The old deltas, once simple structures of bamboo, ropes, and canvas, held an elemental charm in their design. Barely strong enough to hold their shape against the wind’s force, they were light and nimble. In contrast, the new ones, iron skeletons with large wings and an intricate structure that could not only contain the pilot but also projectiles of different types, lost out manoeuvrability to firepower and robustness. The rangers flying beside her wrestled with the machines, fighting to sustain the push of powerful gusts from the south. Ivy had no doubts in their ability, even seeing their struggle. Years of experience under their belts would see them through this, as it always had.

Her sharp sight caught Riko’s ship sailing southward, a little white dot hiding among the foams of a choppy sea. No enemies pursued, though Ivy knew Vega’s forces would soon know the intentions of his former captain. Few words of farewell had been said. That was Riko. Someone who, knowing that perhaps this was the last time they’d see each other, could only say ‘see you later’.

Her mind paused for a moment to consider what would happen if the great armada Riko was going to find didn’t arrive in time. Or even worse, if it didn’t arrive at all. The Kraken was most certainly prepared. It knew what was brewing at The World’s End. Its pieces were waiting. Hoping for them to make that move.

‘If I fail, forget the city and retreat to the Maze, simple as that,’ Riko had said. “Male is just a punch to the jaw in a long, tedious fight. If the enemy takes it and our next knockout punch doesn’t land, we step back, prepared for a counter, and ready for another blow. They may have withstood that one, but it’ll still hurt.’

There was no room for worry or overthinking. That was one of the former squid’s many lessons. ‘Focus on what’s in front of you, give it your all, and have plans ready for whatever outcome comes. When it does, whatever it is, you will be ready and focused to give it all again.’

Satisfied of seeing Riko’s ship alone, she turned to her rangers, only a brief nod needed to signal for return. Her delta banked with a graceful arc, the iron-clad wings slicing through the air with precision. For a moment, she felt like a bird, free from the world below. Free from lingering worries and weighting responsibilities. And from gilts.

What she had done to Ray gnawed at her conscience, no matter how much he deserved it. Sleep had become an elusive phantom, chased away by the relentless replay of injuries she inflicted. His screams haunted her in the quiet hours, a torment she could not escape. A violent jolt of turbulence snapping through the air yanked her thoughts back to the present, the shudder of her delta forcing her to confront the reality she could not change. ‘What is done can’t be changed,’ Riko had said.

As they return to Blue Navy, the vast horizon gradually revealed the scattering of islands of the Thousand Kings. The Blue Fleet came soon into view, a formidable yet tiny string of dots seen from the heights. The vessels, former Kraken and Indri pirates, sailed through the islands passage towards east. A queue of sails towards war. Few ships of the stingray, Ujan and even Hanan fighters had joined. All forming a swarm ready to unleash their wrath.

Not afraid to be spotted by enemies, the squadron went down in altitude as they reached the coral wall of the Blue Kingdom. After passing the line dividing the ocean in two, the surface of the sea not only changed in its colours but in its shape, untouched by the fury of the waves.

A sudden gleam caught Ivy’s eye. A flash reflecting off the tiny mirror the ranger wielded, cutting through the wind’s roar far more effectively than any whistle could. She turned, squinting her eyes to the ranger’s frantic gestures. His signals,pointing out a trouble with her grenade thrower. The device was strapped securely on her left side, beneath the wing. A simple yet ingenious assembly of thin metal bars, holding bundles of compressed paper and coconut husks packed with powder and iron pellets. The design allowed her to easily access the grenades, and the new leather harness she wore allowed her to strike freely with both hands flint and fuse at will. On her other side, a similar structure held rounded glass bottles, nestled in thick cork bags, filled with fire oil—bottles meant to ignite, just as the grenades were intended to burn.

The ranger continued, his hands speaking of a flaw in the structure. Ivy couldn’t see the issue at first. Persistence led towards a subtle shake in the bars, a small but potentially dangerous flaw. With a frown, she dashed the grenades into the frontal pouch of her harness, just in case. It was a small precaution, yet necessary.

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As they descended for landing, Marie’s fleet came into view. Her was smaller in numbers than the main fleet sailing through the islands. Still, lightly armed but heavily manned, it was ready for a swift and decisive strike. An attack as crucial as Ivy’s strike over the fortress.

Male was a floating city surrounded by shallows, except at two points, the north harbor and the south harbor. Both of them looked out onto atoll bays where the defense ships were massed. The great fortress, a conical structure of hundreds of guns, protected the east of the city, its two harbors and its fleets, as well as guarding the only passage from north to south. But in the eastern shallows, though impenetrable, there was nothing. And Marie’s shallow-draft ships were well designed to pass through there.

The infiltrators, using Ray’s connections, would unleash chaos while Marie approached the city from the west and Ivy assaulted the fortress from the only point where she had no guns aimed.

It seemed possible. On paper.

The wing shook as it approached the flat roof of Marie’s ship. Their unique design, long, with an accommodation bridge that covered the entire deck and left a runway with its flat roof, ideal for landing. They were single-masted boats, which were in the bow. They had horrible mobility and speed, but that did not matter.

She gripped the control bar tighter, her mind focused on the task ahead, every fibre of her being intent on ensuring the plan’s success. The rest of her squadron returned to their respective ships. She, however, followed straight, winds shaking her machine to the core. The task would be a challenge, even with experience. The heavy structure jostled as it met the deck. A few crewmen rushed forward in the last moments, catching the delta with practised hands, though not without cost. Bloodied knuckles and bruised faces came with expressions of a mix of pain and grim satisfaction.

After unbuckling the cumbersome harness, Ivy hurried to find Oleg, who was watching the surrounding ships through his spyglass. She tapped his shoulder, and he gave the expected report with no need to receive the order.

“Your boys have all landed pretty well, all except Pitt. He’s sent his delta into the water. Looks like we’ll get it back, though.

“The east squadron reports the Tampra fleet has indeed turned and is reaching Male. That increases their fleet to two-thirds of our numbers. More than expected. They’ll be more than ready to receive us.”

“In that case, when Marie's troops take the city bastion, we will send Ray’s men to the entrance of the fortress. If the troops have to defend the lower areas, the upper resistance will be less strong. Then we can take the fortress more quickly and use their own cannons in our favour before our main fleet attacks.”

Oleg lowered the spyglass, revealing a scowl. ”The entrance to the fortress is a trap. It is a narrow, slippery, elevated rock passage. We sent them to their deaths.”

Not giving an answer, Ivy quickly scanned the horizon, eyes seeking the closest ship. From the Red Picker, a net of ropes were pulling up Pitt, while hooks and poles were desperately trying to avoid a delta from sinking further. At the platform of the same vessel, another flying machine was ready to take off. The ship’s propulsion, combined with the power of the wind and the aid of a rope, lifted the delta into the air as effortlessly as a kite caught in a strong breeze.

“Where is that one going?” she signed.

Oleg squeezed the spyglass in his hands. “The ships of Ujan sent birds. There are rumours of the Harpy’s ships north of Temasek.”

“Wasn't the Mama'Thumbs dead and her fleet disbanded?”

“That bitch has been dying and coming back to life for, I don’t know how long.” The Ranger took a deep breath. “It’s said by the yellow ribbons the Hanan King killed her for good this time. But her eldest has taken up the mantle afterwards. And rumour is she has not only taken the name, but has taken the lover. And the ribbons all agree this lover is a man, not even the Hanan King trusts. We don’t know if the new Harpy will keep her mother's promises. I advise caution.”

Ivy puffed her lungs as deep and as slowly as the ranger had done. Then she released, taking the moment to gather strength and hope to focus on what was right in front of them and find a plan in case the new mother of thumbs decided to join the game. Whether as a friend or as a foe.

“I don’t want Pitt to join the assault,” she signed. “Send orders to the Red Picker. Tell them to send him to inform Riko about the Harpy.”