The Windblow soared through the sky, cutting through the clouds on its way to an ancient ruin that Carrera and her crew had been tasked with investigating. The ship's elegant, powerful form glided through the wind as Carrera stood at the helm, deep in conversation with her subordinates, who were eagerly discussing strategies for exploring the ruins.
"I want us to be careful once we get to the site," Carrera said, her voice as calm and commanding as ever. "The last thing we need is a repeat of what happened at the last dig. We need to move quickly but cautiously."
Her crew nodded, taking in the importance of the mission, their faces serious and focused. Carrera, however, couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was off today. Maybe it was the unusual quietness of the skies, or the strange patterns she had noticed on the radar. Whatever it was, it kept her on edge.
Just as she was about to ask for a status update from the navigation team, the Windblow suddenly lurched. A deafening sound of metal groaning filled the air, and the ship tilted dangerously. Carrera grabbed onto the nearby rail as the entire ship shuddered violently.
"Hold on!" Carrera shouted, her command echoing through the deck.
The crew scrambled, some of them barely managing to maintain their footing as the ship rocked back and forth. The shaking continued for several long moments, and it felt as if the ship might come crashing down at any second. The engines whined as they fought to regain balance.
"What's happening?!" one of the crew members shouted, panic creeping into their voice.
"Stay calm!" Carrera barked, trying to regain control of the situation. Her focus was razor-sharp as she quickly assessed the damage. "Get to the stabilizers!"
Before she could issue more orders, a loud voice cut through the chaos, carrying over the deck like a booming trumpet.
"Listen up, everyone! Chicken porridge is the best kind of porridge!"
The entire crew froze, momentarily stunned by the strange declaration. Carrera turned, her face contorted in disbelief, just as Seraphine appeared at the center of the deck, hands on her hips, as if delivering a royal proclamation. Her voice was loud, full of pride, and completely oblivious to the confusion swirling around her.
"Chicken porridge!" Seraphine repeated with passion, her golden eyes shining with an intensity that could have melted steel. "Nothing beats the rich, savory taste of chicken porridge! All other kinds of porridge are weak, inferior—like mung bean porridge!"
Carrera blinked, her mind trying to catch up with what was happening. What in the world is she talking about?
Around her, the crew had begun to grumble. Some were snickering, others groaning in confusion, but the noise was building. Slowly but surely, the Windblow deck descended into chaos.
"What?! Chicken porridge over mung bean porridge? You must be joking!" Navine, standing near the back of the crowd, shouted, her voice suddenly filled with fiery determination. "Mung bean porridge has depth, complexity, and the perfect sweetness. You can't just shove a bunch of chicken in your porridge and call it the best!"
"Excuse me?!" Seraphine's voice shot back, now dangerously loud. "You clearly have no taste!"
The crew, unsure of how to react, stood in stunned silence, as if waiting for someone to intervene. Carrera, completely flustered, looked at the scene unfolding before her in disbelief.
"Are you seriously fighting about porridge right now?!" Carrera snapped, running a hand through her hair in frustration. "We're about to explore ancient ruins, and you're arguing over breakfast?!"
But it was too late. The argument had already divided the crew into two sides. Half were nodding along with Seraphine's fervent defense of chicken porridge, while the other half sided with Navine's insistence that the mung bean porridge was superior.
Zara, who had been quietly watching the chaos unfold, finally spoke up, raising her hand with a wry smile. "Well... I have to admit, this is better than the usual mission briefings."
Navine, her face flushed with passion, pointed an accusing finger at Seraphine. "Mung bean porridge is a delicate art form! Chicken porridge is just—just—overhyped!"
"I can't believe I'm even hearing this!" Seraphine retorted, hands on her hips. "You clearly have no taste!"
The shouts and counterarguments continued, each side becoming more animated, while Carrera stood in the middle of the chaos, facepalming. She could feel the ship swaying under her feet as the crew argued over porridge.
"Alright, that's enough!" Carrera shouted, her patience wearing thin. "We have bigger problems right now than your ridiculous food debates! Focus!"
But her words went largely ignored as the crew passionately argued about which porridge was superior.
"Chicken porridge for life!" Seraphine cried out, raising a fist in the air like she was leading a revolution.
"Mung bean porridge forever!" Navine shouted right back, throwing her hands in the air.
Carrera sighed, wishing for the sweet silence of a good old-fashioned mission briefing. The Windblow seemed to rock once more, and this time it wasn't from external forces—it was the sound of feet stomping on the deck in sheer enthusiasm.
This crew, Carrera thought, shaking her head. I've never been more embarrassed in my life.
With her patience thoroughly exhausted, she turned toward the crew with a forced smile. "Fine. But you're all going to clean up after this little debate. And we're doing it while moving toward the ruins. No more distractions, got it?"
The crew, suddenly remembering their mission, reluctantly nodded, though it was clear that the battle of porridge was far from over.
"Chicken porridge!" Seraphine shouted one last time.
"Mung bean porridge!" Navine shouted back, even louder.
And with that, the Windblow sailed onward, but not in peace. Not today.