Z52 and Elbing's Misadventure into the World of Azur lane

Prologue

An island fortress burnt. Thick, greasy smoke suffocated the air while blazing infernos raged. An enclosed, haven for ships had been demolished to rubble and scrap. Various pools of blood littered the streets, occasionally leading to corpses under the spell of rigor mortis. Few buildings stood yet a singed flag waved defiantly in the courtyard of the command centre. Its inhabitants had been killed when the first salvos hit.

The Seas fared worse. Wreckage floated, leaking fuel onto the disturbed waves. Sleek, jagged, black warships slid into the harbour effortlessly weaving between the remains of those who had tried to fight them. Guns still flashed and thundered but they were few and brought crushing retaliation upon their own locations. Lonely figures danced around the graveyards of their siblings-in-arms. Each clinging to the shadows like a drowning rat.

Zerstrorer Fifty-Two hid under the capsized hull of a Cleveland Light Cruiser. The portside was a multitude of gaping holes, ranging from torpedoes to Super-Heavy calibre gunfire, and its KANSEN was certainly one of many half-submerged bodies.

There had been little time to start the defence. A portal opened in the centre of the port and an entire Siren extermination fleet dropped out. Some Kansen died at that moment, when their ships were detonated, more followed while they desperately tried to summon their riggings.

"Goodbye, Monty."

There was nothing to salvage. Kansen only carried medical supplies on themselves, and none had time to grab anything from the stores before its destruction. With a pat on the sinking ship, Z52 sneaked away, darting across open waters to shade. All it took was a single Siren plane to spot the Destroyer before a bombardment would be called in, and there were plenty of Siren planes in their air with their own payloads.

Finally, after several near heart attacks, Z52 arrived at the collapsed wooden, underneath were two fellow survivors. Elbing was tending a mortally wounded Anson. The stubborn Battle had been hit from waves of Siren Bombers, suffering from severe wounds and a shattered leg when the Shield gave way, blasting the kansen into the Seawall. The armour typical of the medieval era was fragmented and several turrets were missing. Despite their supernatural toughness, it was unlikely that Anson would walk again, assuming they survived of course.

Elbing

"Find anything?" I asked. I already knew the answer yet a small bit of hope in our desperate situation. I trust that this is a test of Faith. It is written that one should not put the Lord to the test. He will find me true to the bitter end.

Z52 merely offered a dejected, weary shake, which I completely understand. We are the finest destroyers the Bundeswehr had produced for Ironblood. Z52 with the best AA capabilities while myself having the largest guns for a destroyer, matching British Cruisers like the Town-class.

Yet even combined, we could do nothing against the onslaught. The ships that had attacked were immeasurably superior to anything we have seen before, including the Kraken at the Denmark Straits. Lord as my witness, even the Siren Pawns had more armour than earlier Siren Mk II Queens! Even the demonic spawn respected point-blank 16-inch gunfire. Every ship also had energy shielding that even extended underwater, rendering torpedoes useless. I pray that the fallen may rest in peace. The Sirens had brought a force that could have won the war long ago, only God knows why they did not use them.

There is not much I can do for Anson. I did my best with my sword and scavenged clothes for the leg, but everything is tainted and unsafe to think about covering the wounds.

"How is Anson doing?" I glanced at Z52 before continuing my cleaning with a handkerchief. My compatriot was laying on the sand, visor off and eyes close. The Rigging was detached and laid dormant near Z52.