Awaiting Your Return (Azur Lane)

Engagement

HMS Prince Of Wales P.O.V

The stench of metal hung thick in the air, while plumes of dark smoke covered up what little cracks there were in the heavy clouds above. Cannon fire banged at my head like a drum as the spray of saltwater dampened my uniform after each projectile that slammed into the ocean's surface around me.

Fires raged on as the fuel seeping into the ocean from the damaged and destroyed Sirens would catch fire with a single spark.

Considering my role as a battleship didn't require as much energy expulsion as most smaller ships, I was still finding myself easily exhausted, more than I had ever felt before during battle.

As I moved along the battlefield, firing salvos into the pitch-black hulls each Siren ship toted, I came to realize how much I preferred the desk job despite the boredom it created. 

A considerable amount of time had passed since I was last deployed on a combat mission; perhaps that was the answer to my issues. Even still, I found myself unable to conjure the spirit I once held in the past.

Where there was once pride in the missions I carried out, now felt empty. Perhaps not meaningless, but there was no sense of drive to be found. Maybe I had just become so burned out as of late, leaving me unable to do most of what could have been easily accomplished were I in tip-top shape.

While my thoughts ran wild, I watched as our planes went head-to-head with theirs in the sky above, twisting and diving in sync, trying to keep on each other's tails. Together, it looked like a dance as they followed their partner's rhythm, never letting go of each other until one was to slip up and draw a conclusion. The dance itself would play out elegantly as each plane chased its partner until one came out on top.

Or perhaps it was just the beauty of the Spitfires that captivated me. As the more I watched the impression of a dance, I came to see glimpses of a terrifying game of cat and mouse shine through the fighter's elegance.

Suddenly, a beam of high energy blasted past the tip of my nose, coming within a few inches and making me flinch. The culprit, I had quickly found out, was the ship I had just struck, now sunk further into the water at an angle with its main gun trained on me. Not wishing to go down without a fight, its barrels began to light up while its hull only slipped further beneath the waves. 

Not wishing for it to get a second chance, I swung my turret up and let two of my four barrels sing. Just as the light from its guns reached a blinding shine, one of the rounds struck the turret right between its barrels, and it, along with the power its gun was building, exploded in a grand fireball as the second round struck its hull just below the rising waterline to end its threat once and for all.

There had yet to be any sight of an executor class, but I knew it wouldn't be for very long; those things always tended to show up out of the blue whenever the chaos reached a point of their choosing. 

It was annoying—never knowing when your enemy would show their face. They could show up now, or they could wait until we cleared most of their ships. It's not like we could leave without taking care of them, though; after all, they were a primary factor in the shipping lanes closure.

"Wales!" A voice called out to me from behind. Turning around, I watched as Gloucester came to a halt only a few feet away with two destroyers in tow. "Those planes are becoming more of an issue than an irritation now. We must deal with them," she said, just as a corsair came crashing into the sea a ways behind her.