“... And am I diving down to spearhead the Depth Four Reclamation Mission alone with her?” Marisol asked, groaning as she stretched her arms across the table, laying her face down on the warm wood. “I know lots of Imperators are dead and injured, but… this is an important operation to reclaim Depth Four, right? Why not send all the able-bodied Imperators down with us?”

  Sitting across her table, Aidan slurped on his cold lemonade, Bruno slapped the back of his head to get him to drink a little quieter, and Helena pushed a consolatory bowl of ice cream at Marisol. “We’re spread very thin right now,” Helena said, sighing exasperatedly. “All of the low-rank initiates, including the three of us, are assigned to hold the underwater outposts we’ve built along Depths One to Three. That’s already half of the organisation unable to dive freely. Then, half of the Imperators adepts—those who can dive down to Depths Four to Six—have been killed by Eurypteria, while the other half are all currently scattered across Depths One to Three to serve as outpost leaders. Most of them aren’t free to dive as well.”

  “Then what about the Imperators in Lighthouse One? They’re the strongest Imperators outside of the Lighthouse Imperators, right? Why aren’t they coming down with us?”

  “There were never many of them to begin with. Of all the lighthouses, Lighthouse One has always had the least number of members, so with five of them killed by Kalakos, the First Lighthouse Imperator is the only one left in his entire division.”

  “That old hunchback is literally the one left in his division?”

  “Yep.”

  “What about you guys? Can’t you come with me?”

  Aidan sent her a sly, apologetic grin, and Bruno dipped his head. “We’re ashamed to say it, but you’ve outgrown us really, quickly,” Bruno said. “We’re only S-Rank Giant-Class Imperators. We aren’t allowed to accompany you down to Depth Four to spearhead the mission.”

  “It’s not like the two of you will be completely alone, anyways,” Aidan added. “We’ll be several hundred metres behind you and Maria with a bunch of high-rank initiates, ready to provide supporting or retreating fire. We just won’t be at the very front alongside the two of you.”

  The situation was more dire than Marisol thought. She grabbed her bowl of ice cream and started wolfing it down, savouring the sweetness while she still had time to kick back and relax in Familia. The strategy meeting this morning had completely blindsided her with all the reports of death and injuries. She’d had a vague idea that other patrol teams were also attacked while she was running from Rhizocapala, but… right now, based on what everyone was telling her, it almost seemed like the Whirlpool City was on the verge of breaking down.

  “But… the two of us going ahead of all of you?” she mumbled, slamming her half-finished bowl down with a big, worried frown. “Can’t the other Lighthouse Imperators come with us?”

  “You heard it yourself back in the meeting. The First has to heal, the Third has to train new initiates and quickly replenish Lighthouse Two’s ranks, the Fourth is a non-combat specialist, the Fifth probably has administrative duties to handle up in the city, and the Sixth isn’t even in the city anymore. I think.”

  “And what about the Imperatrix? He’s the strongest of all the Imperators, right?”

  “Andres is fucked-up, just like me,” Victor chimed in, and all four of them jumped in their seats. Marisol hadn’t heard him entering Familia, nor had she noticed him sliding onto the seat next to her, grinning from ear to ear. “Oh, you’re having frozen dulce de luna. Let me have some. You owe me for your room, anyways—”

  “What do you mean by that?” Marisol scowled, pulling her bowl away as she scowled at him. “The Imperatrix—”

  “Is just like me,” he finished, pulling down the bandages over his lips as he slipped a spoonful of ice cream in. She blinked. Whirled. Her beautiful second ball of ice cream was already half-eaten. “He’s a bit better in the sense that he can actually fight semi-consistently, but he can’t use his Art very often anymore—not at his age—and he needs to rest after each prolonged dive underwater. He’ll probably join the missions starting from Depth Five, but Depth Four can and be handled by his subordinates. Rhizocapala is an anti-army Insect God, anyways, so it’s best to handle him with only a small group of elites.”

  Marisol clenched her jaw.

  “So there gonna be an Insect God waiting for me and Maria down in Depth Four.”

  “No shit. But it’ll probably be Rhizocapala alone,” he said pointedly, raising a finger as he shoved a second spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. Marisol whirled again. Her second ball of ice cream wasn’t there anymore. “Official prediction: Rhizocapala is guarding Depth Four, Eurypteria is guarding Depth Five, Kalakos is guarding Depth Six, and then I’ve got no clue what Marculata could be doing past that. Marculata can’t seem to survive outside of Depths Seven to Eight, anyways, so Andres is basically telling you and Maria to take care of Rhizocapala.”

  “But, sir!” Aidan said, raising his hand. “If we to get past Depth Four in order to reclaim the other depths, wouldn’t all Four Leviathans be guarding Depth Four together? Why would they split up like that and make it easier for us to reclaim the whirlpool Depth by Depth?”

  “Because Kalakos is massive, and even through the fog they’ve deployed to interfere with our observation drones, we can track her just by monitoring her aura. We know for a fact that she’s still in Depth Six,” Victor said, raising a second finger. “Also, Rhizocapala and Eurypteria can’t work together. The barnacle’s anti-army, but Eurypteria’s anti-personnel, so they’ll get in each other’s ways. They’ll work reluctantly to hold their separate territories, but I can guarantee you won’t see the two of them together unless they absolutely to protect one another.”

  Bruno furrowed his brows. “But what about the other combinations? It could be Rhizocapala and Kalakos together, or Eurypteria and Kalakos together, right?”

  “It could be, but they won’t be working together. They’ll only show up to save each other’s neck, not fight the other’s battles for them.”

  “How do you know that for sure?”

  “Because I’ve fought Rhizocapala and Eurypteria, killed the Insect God before Kalakos with Andres, and I’m telling you right here, right now: Insect Gods are shit at working with each other. True unity is the one thing you never need to expect from the Swarm,” he said, and the finality in his voice made Marisol shiver. “It’ll be Rhizocapala in Depth Four, Eurypteria in Depth Five, and Kalakos in Depth Six, in that exact order. I guarantee it. Now, I’m not saying Eurypteria save Rhizocapala if he’s in a pinch, but at the very least, she won’t show up halfway through a fight to jump the lass and Maria with him.”

  Marisol wanted to say ‘that’s not very reassuring’, because that implied he thought she and Maria could actually push Rhizocapala to the point of him requiring help from another Insect God—and if Insect Gods were in the same place, there was no reason why they wouldn’t just kill her and Maria while they were already there—but ‘reassurance’ was never something Marisol took for granted, anyways.

  It was always supposed to be dangerous, and Sand-Dancers lived on the very edge of life and death.

  She hadn’t been training harder than ever for nothing.

  “... With all that said, Maria wants to see you.” Victor slapped her on the shoulder, getting up from his seat with a heavy groan as he did. “Dive down to Depth Two, halfway point. Don't take a diving bell. She'll be waiting for you, and you won't miss her.”

  Marisol blinked, thumbing at herself. “Now?”

  “Ten minutes ago.”

  “So instead of sending me a message with your Archive, you come here late, eat my ice cream, and—”

  “Go.”

  She shot up from her seat, shuffled past the meandering Victor, and sped towards the door.

  “I’ll pay for my lunch later!” she called out, glancing back at Helena. The Imperator siblings simply waved at her, wishing her good luck… though she sincerely hoped she wouldn’t need it.

  She supposed to be allies with that bandit-looking girl, right?

  Nobody stopped her as she hopped off Lighthouse Seven, plunged into Depth One with her harness, and began skating down the Seagrass Meadow.

  If she had any complaints whatsoever about being the only one amongst the Imperators working out of her mind—and she never had any in the first place—it all dispelled the moment she started skimming through Depth One. Dotting the meadow were fortified shelters, their angular, algae-coated walls a stark contrast to the organic fluidity of the kelp forest. The underwater outposts were bustling with activity, bubbles rising in constant streams as Guards and Imperators alike darted in and out of airlocks. Their equipment glinted faintly in refracted sunlight: sharp, thick diving suits designed to protect them from long-range projectile attacks, probably in response to Rhizocapala’s cannon-like barnacles.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Speaking of cannons though, there were hundreds of them littered all across Depth One alone: anti-chitin artillery jutting from each and every outpost, enormous harpoon launchers and net cannons mounted on swiveling bases, ready to target anything that swam by overhead. Every hundred metres or so, trenches fortified with coral barriers were littered with explosive barrels and spiked barricades. A part of her wanted to ask the Archive why they didn’t just keep these fortifications in place all year round, but the answer was obvious enough—with such heavy Imperator and Guard presences underwater, the whirlpool’s ecosystem had to be incredibly disrupted.

  The commercial diving companies weren’t allowed to dive anymore. Unique resources couldn’t be harvested anymore. Maybe some of the desserts she liked eating up on the surface would be stripped from the menu for a while, too, until business could resume as usual.

  While she may have been told to descend forth and reclaim the Lower Depths, the rest of the city was focused on preserving the three Depths they still had.

  the Archive agreed, clinging to her shoulder as she skated by a number of curious faces. They whispered and squinted and kept most of their words to themselves, but she knew they knew she was being sent down to Depth Four—and was supposed to be the newcomer, the outsider.

  She’d hold the Archive to that. As she skated past the border between Depth One and Depth Two, she was immediately met with even more shelters, outposts, and cannons being constructed across the Tropical Reefs—but, more important than what everyone else was doing, her eyes caught on a girl swimming in circles far above her head.

  It was a peculiar sight, seeing someone swimming so freely and leisurely while the rest of the Imperators and Guards were preparing for war underneath.

  The girl’s body seemed built for swimming, her limbs elongated and slightly glossy. Tiny, paddle-like fins extended from her forearms and calves, slicing through the water with effortless grace. Along her back, just under the folds of her fraying blue cape and Imperator uniform, two small, chitinous wings twitched faintly. If Marisol had to guess, she was probably more like Hugo than Reina or any of the Crustacean Class users—she had a surface aquatic-type class, but… what was it?

  it said pointedly,

  She dug her glaives into the sand, and right above, the girl twirled over to blink down at her. Marisol tightened her jaw. The girl didn’t look like an adult. Her dark hair was short and uneven, hacked off roughly, with a few strands floating loose around her face. Her features may be sharp and striking—freckled skin, a few faint scars across her cheek, and a slightly crooked nose—but she didn’t look a day past twenty. Marisol could easily see her as a kid led astray by bandits and marauders.

  And neither of them spoke to each other.

  The water swirled in quiet tension as Marisol fixed her eyes on Maria, and vice versa.

  “... What did you want me down here for?” she asked, her voice steady but firm, cutting through the stillness.

  Maria didn’t respond.

  Her silver-black eyes stared into nothing, the glow of the reef lights catching on her bare, spiral chitin patterned arms. She remained unnervingly still where she hovered—then, without warning, she moved. Her body curved sharply, and she began swimming, finned limbs slicing through the water.

  At first, it seemed just like idle swimming—nothing Marisol needed to worry about—but then her movements grew faster. And faster. And faster. Her figure blurred as she spun in tight, rapid circles around Marisol, and the water began to churn. Rage. Froth. Marisol braced herself as the currents coiled and twisted, forming a massive underwater cyclone that sucked at her limbs, dragging her into its relentless rhythm.

  She struggled to stay upright, her glaives grinding against the sand, but it was no use. The cyclone’s flow enveloped her entirely. She was trapped in it, the water spinning faster with every heartbeat, and she saw them through squinted eyes—the cyclone’s currents weren’t just ‘swirling’ around her. She felt like she could physically them: the flowing streams of water taking on distinct shapes and patterns, ribbons of motion that twisted around her like living things, beautiful and terrifying.

  ‘Graceful’.

  ‘Elegant’.

  Marisol’s breath caught. She felt small and insignificant once again, faced with this display of strength. Maria wasn’t just swimming in circles really fast to make an underwater cyclone. She was commanding the natural underwater currents, moving along it, it with a mastery Marisol had never seen before—and by perceiving the natural currents, her speed reached a level Marisol could only compare to Victor’s.

  She hated to admit it, even silently, but she felt a pang of doubt.

  Reina was strong in her own way, but this girl was much, more powerful.

  Her awe-struck thoughts shattered as the cyclone broke apart with a deafening rush. A shadow darted through the chaos, faster than her eyes could follow. Instinct screamed, and Marisol moved on reflex, snapping out her sharpened apiclaws and raising her arms just in time.

  But then Maria’s own apiclaws shot out of her elbows and collided with Marisol’s guard, the force of the strike sending shockwaves through the ground.

  She skidded backward, her glaives carving deep grooves into the sand as she winced. Maria immediately retreated and darted back into the roaring cyclone, resuming swimming circles around her.

  Marisol’s heart thumped.

  Maria didn’t relent. She lunged again, her figure a blur as she slashed from every angle. Each strike came faster than the last, and Marisol barely managed to keep up. The currents around her whipped violently with each strike. She twisted and dodged, over and over, her glaives scraping the sand as she narrowly avoided another claw that sliced through the space where her neck had been.

  Her breathing came fast and shallow. She couldn’t just keep defending. Maria was too fast, too relentless, but staying on the back foot would only delay the inevitable. She to fight back.

  Activating discharge, Marisol burst forward with an explosion of water behind her glaives, skating in circles against the clockwise flow of the cyclone.

  She angled herself, trying to reverse the cyclone’s motion as she skated on the ground, but she struggled against the resistance. The powerful currents fought her. The flow didn’t break. It refused to yield. Frustration built in her chest, and she gritted her teeth, pushing harder, skating faster.

  This to work.

  And Maria, caught in her minorly disruptive anti-flow, was flung slightly off course when she jumped out of the cyclone and tried to pounce at Marisol. The girl’s body twisted, her balance breaking for just a moment. Marisol noticed. Seized the opening. She launched herself upwards, her glaive snapping out in a powerful War Jump kick aimed squarely at the girl’s side.

  But Maria didn’t flinch. Instead, she whipped her head over, a gleeful expression on her face, and grabbed Marisol’s glaive with a chitin-armoured hand.

  “Not bad,” she said plainly. “Ye’ve got some potential.”

  Then, with terrifying ease, she yanked Marisol forward and swung her down.

  The impact hit like a wave. Marisol’s back slammed into the ground, the force kicking up a cloud of sand and debris. Pain exploded through her body, and her vision blurred for a moment. She struggled to catch her breath, the weight of the water pressing against her chest.

  When the dust settled, though, Maria was sitting on top of her, one clawed hand resting on her shoulder like they had all the time in the world. The girl’s razor-sharp grin widened, and her eyes—no longer dull and colourless—glinted with amusement.

  “... Yer interestin’,” Maria said. “‘Ah knew ye would be. We’re fellow speed demons. That’s why ‘ah called dibs on ye months ago, back when they were discussin’ whether to toss ye in jail or not for punchin’ a Guard.” Then she tilted her head, her grin becoming even sharper. “Shame Andres didn’t put ye in my lighthouse, eh? ‘Ah could’ve been yer mentor instead of that old man.”

  Marisol blinked through the pain, her mind racing to process the words.

  Maria got up, dusting off her uniform. “Name’s Maria: the most talented Imperator in the city. I’ve got the Whirligig Beetle Class, which lets me swim in circles really fast, and oh, before ye ask—no, ‘ah ain’t a fuckin’ a kid no more. ‘Ahm thirty-eight. ‘Ahm way older than ye.”

  For her part, Marisol only kept on staring, her breaths ragged, her limbs aching. Maria smirked and stood up straight, offering a small, mocking salute with two fingers.

  “Nice to meet ye, Mari. Hope yer ready for Depth Four next week.”

  The Archive sighed, sitting on the bridge of her nose as it pulled up Maria’s status screen.

  [Identification Complete]

  [Name: Maria Sangroja]

  [Grade: A-Rank Mutant-Class]

  [Class: Whirligig Beetle]

  [Swarmblood Art: Hydro Spiral]

  [Brief Description: The user can twirl bioarcanic essence in circles around their own body. Underwater, this allows them to swirl water and debris around their limbs like drills, or clad a water cyclone around their body like a passive, shredding barrier]

  [Aura: ~12,000 (+230)]

  [Strength: ~9, Speed: ~10 (+3), Toughness: ~8, Dexterity: ~8, Perception: ~9]

  Next chapter on Saturday!

  The link to the Discord server is with over five hundred members, where you can get notifications for chapter updates, check out my writing progress, and read daily facts about this insect-based world!