Gunmage

The captain's voice didn't just sound familiar—it was familiar. Lugh recognized him as one of the men he'd overheard in the storage hold. What kind of captain goes lugging boxes in a storage room?

The thought was strange, but it explained something—this was not an idle commander who led from behind. Odd behavior, yes, but one that would surely earn him the respect of his men.

"Tell me, child," Captain Veyland said, his voice level, almost conversational, "why do you choose to side with these heretics?"

Until then, he had not doubted Lugh's identity as a Heieg spy. The boy had the flaxen hair of Ophris, but his crimson eyes belonged to the highborn of his motherland. As for his age? The things Heieg had done—deploying child spies would be considered tame.

"Unless…" Veyland trailed off, his sharp mind piecing together something crucial. The storage hold. His expression darkened. "You weren't a spy after all."

He let out a quiet chuckle, though there was no real amusement in it. "How devious."

Lugh remained silent, realizing his cover was thoroughly blown.

Veyland exhaled, his patience thinning. "You've seen too much." He pulled out his sidearm, leveling it with a steady grip. "I would have preferred not to kill you."

Lugh held his ground, his voice as cold as ice. "Are you sure?" His tone lacked defiance, only analysis. "What will you tell the others once I'm dead?"

Veyland didn't hesitate. "I have my ways."

A tense silence stretched between them. Lugh harbored no illusions of victory, but if he was going to die, it wouldn't be without a fight. His fingers inched toward the hidden sidearm he had tucked away.

Then—

BANG!

The entire ship lurched, throwing Veyland off balance. Lugh's seat overturned completely, and he hit the floor hard.

What was that? they both thought in unison, scrambling to their feet.

Veyland barely spared Lugh a glance before striding out of the cabin. Lugh followed close behind.

The deck was eerily quiet, save for the tension thick in the air. Soldiers had already armed themselves, bayonet rifles at the ready, their gazes sweeping the mist rolling in from the sea with dreary anticipation.

Then, strange noises–deep echoes, chittering and inhuman wails–reverberated through the air.

Mere moments later, without warning, the ocean erupted. Tentacles, fins, and monstrous limbs broke the surface. An enormous, eel-like creature lunged from the depths, its maw lined with rows of rasping teeth, large enough to swallow a warship whole.

The fleet responded instantly. Cannons thundered, machine guns roared.

Deep-sea creatures violently collided with the battleships. Soldiers countered swiftly with explosives and depth charges.

The hydraulic shocks shredded smaller creatures, but the larger ones pressed on, slamming against the hulls.

Captains barked orders, and their crews obeyed with iron discipline.

Lugh's gaze remained cold. The soldiers had the upper hand—for now. But how long will that last?

As if in response to his thoughts, a massive tentacle coiled around the ship, dragging it to a halt.

Then, they came.

Grotesque humanoids with distended jaws crawled up the ship like ants. The machine guns did well in cutting them down but it was never enough. They were too many.

Once they reached the deck mind-warping shrieks tore through the air.

Sirens.

Lugh staggered, his ears ringing painfully, his vision distorting. Some of the weaker-willed soldiers collapsed, clawing at their faces in madness before being torn apart.

Lugh took two steps back in horror, steadying himself. As if sensing something, one of the monsters snapped its head up.

Its eyes locked onto his.

Lugh lunged for a rifle lying beside a fallen soldier. The siren charged with extreme fervour, ignoring everyone else.

The young stowaway barely had time to get into position when it leaped. He twisted—too slow—it overshot him by inches. In one motion, he swung the rifle like a bat, with every single bit of force his lithe body could muster.

A snap. Not from the siren, but from Lugh's left wrist.

The pain was blinding, but he moved on instinct. The siren hit the floor, stunned. Lugh raised the bayonet and drove it down into its throat.

The siren writhed, trying to scream—but its windpipe was severed. Lugh raised the bayonet again and thrust it towards the head like a shovel.

The blade didn't do much damage this time, his strength was insufficient.

No matter.

A second later his finger pulled the trigger. The gun roared, and the siren's skull burst.

Lugh exhaled sharply, shifting his stance. The deck was slick with blood. Soldiers fought in brutal close combat. Some held their ground. Others didn't.

And the tentacles constricting the ship? They had multiplied. Large pulsing masses lay crisscrossed on the deck, constricting, trying to pull the vessel into the deep.

Lugh felt a sharp gaze and quickly spun around.

A scaled beast the size of a wagon crouched low, its six legs—four on one side, two stocky ones on the other—poised to lunge. Its forked tongue flicked out, tasting the air.

Locked on him.

Lugh took a deep breath and steadied the rifle. Calm. Stay calm.

He fired.

BANG!

And missed. The recoil jolted through his injured wrist, white-hot pain shooting up his arm. The lizard charged.

Lugh quickly chambered another round.

BANG!

The monster might have seemed to have impenetrable scales, but... guns were pretty powerful.

The bullet struck true and the wounded beast shrieked in rage.

BANG! BANG!

Shot after shot, the lizard crumpled. Other sirens lay lifeless beside it.

But it wasn't enough. The ship was sinking. The soldiers were almost overrun.

Then—

A horn blared.

Veyland, who Lugh had been keeping track of, immediately gave the order:

"Everyone, retreat!"

A strange, rhythmic clanking joined the chaos—gears turning, fast, faster.

Lugh felt a sense of foreboding.

He turned. Soldiers were already disengaging, disappearing below deck. He moved to follow but was a step too late.

Once the person in front of him vanished through the doorway, the service door slammed shut.

Lugh's eyes widened.

"Dammit—open up!" He slammed his fist against the door. He would have shot through the lock, but he was out of bullets.

The monsters turned.

No more soldiers to hunt.

Only him.

They surged forward like a tide

Lugh pounded the door. "Open up!!"

The grinding gears had grown into a deafening clamor.

The monsters were almost upon him.

Lugh clenched his jaw, taking a slow breath.

Then—he was pulled inside, the door slamming shut behind him.

A second later, the ship was engulfed in flames.