A few days have passed since construction began, and now the Lead Ship North Carolina is finally ready, alongside her sister ships—Massachusetts, Kansas, Tennessee, and Washington.

I’m still messing around with these CPU chips I’ve had for days now, trying to figure them out. But when I get the notification that North Carolina is complete, I shove the chip into my jacket pocket and head straight to the construction facility. It’s time to get her launched.

Arriving at the drydock, I spot the champagne bottle waiting at the bottom of the platform. Grabbing it, I make my way up the steps to the ship's bow. I pause for a moment, running my hand along the cool metal of the hull. My first battleship. Even if she’s based on a design that isn’t fully mine, she still feels like my creation, like all the others.

After a brief second, I pull my hand away, gripping the champagne bottle tightly. I type "North Carolina" into the panel’s name box, then swing the bottle, smashing it against the bow with a sharp crack, champagne splash everywhere.

Just as I step back to admire the moment, a screen pops up in front of me, startling me out of my thoughts.

[Would you like to transform *North Carolina* to be a warrior ship?]

I blink at the message, feeling a mix of confusion and curiosity. A warrior ship? What does that even mean? My finger hovers over the screen for a second before I give in to curiosity and tap "yes." Immediately, I feel a shift in the air, and before I can even process it, the CPU chip in my pocket slips out and starts floating toward the hull.

“What the hell?” I mutter, taking a step back.

The chip sticks itself onto the steel surface of *North Carolina* with a quiet thud, and then—like something out of a fantasy story—the ship starts disintegrating. The metal warship turns to dust, breaking apart in chunks, each one getting sucked into the chip like it's a black hole.

I just stand there, frozen, watching in shock as the entire ship—the one I just launched minutes ago—gets devoured. Steel, bolts, and paint, all collapsing into a cloud of particles and vanishing into the chip.

Bit by bit, the ship is consumed until the last piece—the stern—crumbles into dust and disappears. I’m left standing there, an empty drydocks before me, no battleship in sight. Just the faint hum of the chip, now floating silently where the ship had been.

I have no words.

The chip starts releasing the dust and particles it had swallowed, and I watch in stunned silence as they begin to swirl together. They move like they're being guided by some invisible force, molding into the shape of a humanoid figure. As the form takes shape, I can see hair, fingers, and the subtle details of a face emerging. It's surreal—almost like the ship itself is being reborn.

Eventually, the transformation is complete. Where my battleship once stood, there's now a woman, her body collapsing gently to the ground, unconscious.

Panic surges through me, and without thinking, I bolt down the platform, racing toward her. The second I reach her, I kneel beside her, taking in her appearance. Fair skin, almost blonde hair that catches the light—she looks American, no doubt. She’s tall too, with a figure that seems almost… slim. My mind's still spinning, but there's no denying it—she's real.

I lean down, placing my hand over her nose to check. She’s breathing. A wave of relief crashes over me, and without thinking, I put off my jacket and drape it over her bare skin. She’s completely nude, and as I look at her lying there, the full weight of the situation hits me like a ton of bricks. She came from my ship, right? My battleship. How is that even remotely possible?

I stare at her face, smooth and peaceful, and my mind races to make sense of it all. It’s been so long since I’ve seen another person. I feel like I should be overjoyed, panicked, or something—but instead, all I feel is awe. Because, deep down, I know this isn't just some stranger. She is North Carolina. My ship. It sounds ridiculous, and yet, standing here, looking at her, it feels like something I’ve always known.

My ships… i already consider them more than just cold metal and rivets, more than tools for war. I’ve felt it before, every time I sat in the design room or ran my hand over the hulls. They have personalities, souls even—something more than just machinery. There’s always been this connection, an understanding that they weren’t just objects. They were *beings*. And now, seeing her here—alive—it’s like the universe is confirming what I’ve always suspected.

I swallow hard, my breath shaky. Is this what they’ve always been? Flesh and bone, hidden beneath the steel and armor? I feel this odd sense of responsibility washing over me, heavier than before.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady the swirl of emotions threatening to take over. She looks so peaceful, vulnerable even, and that stirs something inside me—a protectiveness I hadn’t expected. She’s something… more. A part of me, in a way, or maybe I’m a part of her. I’m not sure anymore.

Crouching down closer, I brush a strand of hair from her face, my voice soft. "Hey, are you alright?" I ask, unsure if she can hear me.

There’s no response, and I chuckle under my breath, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips despite everything. "If I’m guessing right… you’re North Carolina, huh?" I whisper. Saying her name out loud feels strange, she is named after a state afterall, but it feels natural.

*

I’m never carrying another body again…

Dragging North Carolina all the way from the port to my mansion wasn’t exactly the best idea, but with her still unconscious, I didn’t have much of a choice. It was a long, exhausting haul, and by the time I got her inside and into one of the guest rooms, my arms felt like they were about to fall off. At least she’s clothed now, so that’s something. The ship launching ceremony can wait; I need to wrap my head around what just happened.

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I think I’ve figured out a bit of what those warrior chips do. The ones I got from that tutorial island… they’re creating *ship girls*. It’s the only explanation that makes any sense—though I’m hardly an expert on this whole ship girl thing. From what I’ve read, they’re supposed to be a manifestation of a ship’s essence inside a human form. At least, that’s how the media I’ve consumed over the years portrays them.

But North Carolina? She’s different. She just came out of the drydock. There’s no way she has any battle experience—none of the memories or war-hardened personalities I’d expect from ship girls in all the stories I know. It’s like she’s a blank slate. I don’t know what to expect when she wakes up, but I’m certain it won’t be anything like what I’ve read about.

Still, I can’t help but feel a strange sense of relief. It’s been… who knows how long since I’ve interacted with another person. Days, months—time’s become this weird blur. Sure, I’ve been working with ships, designing them, commanding them, but that’s not the same as talking to someone. And now here she is, North Carolina, in human form. Familiar, in a strange way.

I sit down by the edge of the bed, watching her as she lies there, her chest rising and falling gently. A ship. My ship, now a person. I can’t even wrap my head around it. But I can’t wait for her to wake up. Maybe we’ll be able to talk about… something. Anything. It’s been too long since I’ve had a real conversation, and for once, I’m looking forward to it.

Who knows what she’ll be like?

*

Yeah, I’ve gone and turned my entire North Carolina-class fleet into ship girls—warrior ships, as this world calls them. All of them are still asleep, though, tucked away in rooms across my mansion like they’re in some kind of hibernation. Days pass, and I keep bringing them meals—breakfast, lunch, dinner—just waiting for any sign of life. I don’t know why I’m doing it, but it feels like the right thing to do. I’ve got a responsibility to them now.

Then, after what feels like an eternity, it happens. That one faithful day when I’m carrying lunch to my still-sleeping ships, I open the door to North Carolina’s room—and there she is. Awake. Sitting at the table, already eating breakfast.

I freeze in the doorway, tray in hand, staring at her like my brain can’t quite process what I’m seeing. She looks up and meets my gaze, her blue eyes locking onto mine, and for a second, everything else fades away. Relief floods through me, more intense than I expected. One of them is finally awake. After all these days of waiting, she’s *here*.

“Admiral?” North Carolina’s voice breaks the silence, calm but with that undeniable military crispness. It’s the first word she’s ever said to me.

I nod, forcing myself to snap out of it, though my heart’s pounding. “Yes, that’s me. Although…” I pause, managing a smile. “You can call me Beatrice. I think that’s better.”

She nods, acknowledging me with a simple, “Got it.”

I step further into the room, setting the tray of food on the table. “So, you’re North Carolina?” I ask, not quite sure why I’m asking when I already know the answer.

“Yes,” she replies, her tone firm. “I am North Carolina, lead ship of the North Carolina class.”

There’s something so official, so *solid* about the way she says it that I have to remind myself she’s not just a ship anymore. She’s *here*. A person—sort of.

“Alright, got it.” I sit down across from her, feeling a mix of anxiety and excitement buzz through me. “Well, come on. Let’s eat. It’s been days since you woke up, and I’m sure you need it.”

North Carolina nods, and we begin to eat in silence, the clinking of utensils the only sound in the room. It feels surreal—like some odd dream I’ve wandered into—but also oddly right. We’re sitting at the table, just… eating. It’s so mundane, yet I can’t shake the feeling that this moment is the start of something much bigger.

She’s awake now, and I wonder what the rest of the ships will be like when they finally open their eyes.

*

As we finish our lunch, it’s pretty clear that North Carolina isn’t much of a talker. She’s quiet, maybe too quiet, though I can’t tell if it’s just her nature or something else. As I stand and begin gathering the plates, she suddenly stands too, stiff and straight like a soldier at attention.

"Admiral, what's the mission?" she asks, her voice sharp, professional, and completely out of the blue.

I blink, taken aback. She hadn’t said a word all meal, and now she’s standing there like she’s waiting for orders in the middle of some battlefield. Mission? Really? I mean, she did just wake up, and maybe the whole military mindset is baked into her or something, but I definitely wasn’t expecting this.

"Uh, mission?" I mutter, still trying to process it. "Well… can you wash the plates? It's just an errand."

Without hesitation, she nods, takes the tray from my hands, and says, "It shall be done."

I watch her head out of the room, and I can’t help but scratch my head, half-smiling at the situation. Military ship girl, doing the dishes. It’s not exactly what I imagined when I first started turning my fleet into, well… people. Her sisters are still sleeping, though I have a feeling they’ll wake up soon enough.

Curiosity gets the better of me, and I follow her to the kitchen, peeking in to see how she handles such a mundane task. To my surprise, North Carolina is doing just fine. She places the dishes down and starts scrubbing them like she’s done it a thousand times. No fumbling or awkwardness—just calm, methodical cleaning.

I guess I expected her to be a bit clueless, given that whole ‘freshly manifested from a battleship’ thing, but nope. She’s handling the dishes like she’s been doing this her whole life. Impressed, I back away, deciding not to stalk her any further. She seems to have things under control, and I figure I should leave her alone for now.

*

Back in my room, I sit down and eye the sentinel core I’ve been puzzling over. It’s different from the warrior cores I’ve been using—those turned my ships into the girls who are now sleeping in my mansion. But the sentinel core? It hasn’t found a use yet, not on the Color Class destroyers or any other ship in my fleet. I feel like there’s something missing, something I haven’t quite figured out yet.

Suddenly, a knock at the door startles me. For a second, I forget I’m not alone in this mansion anymore. I’ve got housemates now.

"Come in," I call, and North Carolina steps inside.

"I have successfully cleaned the dishes, Beatrice," she says, standing tall with that same formal tone.

I can’t help but chuckle. The whole military thing is going to take some getting used to. "Right, thanks. But hey, do you know what this is?" I ask, holding up the sentinel core.

North Carolina looks at it, and after a moment, she says, "That's a Sentinel Core."

"Oh, that's nice, but do you know what it does?" I ask, curious if she can shed some light on the mystery.

"Unfortunately, I do not," she replies, her tone even but slightly apologetic.

I nod. "Right. Well, that's alright. How about you just guard your sisters for now?"

She nods once more and exits the room, leaving me alone with the sentinel core.

"It knows what this thing is but doesn’t know its purpose… interesting," I mutter to myself.