Chapter Text
Hebert Household, Brockton Bay
Historians might one day say that even with the Simurgh's defeat, at least at that moment in time, nothing truly changed. Earth-Beta still faced insurmountable challenges. But for the people celebrating in the streets, everything felt different. A weight had lifted from their very souls, and hope—long buried—stirred again.
On the East Coast of the United States, far from the battlefield, Annette Hebert slept fitfully. When the Endbringer siren sounded, she knew, without question, that her daughter would be involved, even if the attack was happening on the other side of the planet.
The news came in slowly, confusing at first. The battle—if that's what it could be called—was over almost as soon as it began. Then Taylor contacted her. Yes, she'd been involved. No, she wasn't hurt, and she would return home soon.
Afterward, as the world celebrated, Annette held her child close, uncertain what the future would throw at her next.
Unfortunately, morning arrived, her head throbbing, she swore she could hear her daughter talking to someone in the condo. She reached for her robe, muttering that maybe Newfoundland could help with the headache, but stopped short in the kitchen.
Taylor sat at the table, surrounded by bagels slathered in cream cheese and strawberry jelly. Across from her, emptying a box of cereal into a bowl, was a young girl with silvery-white hair cascading down her back.
“Wie komme ich dazu, das nicht aufhören zu können zu essen?” the girl mumbled.
"I know, isn't it great?" Taylor chirped.
"Nein. It's disgusting." The silver-haired girl took another mouthful of Hero Puffs.
"Hi, Mom!" Taylor waved cheerfully.
"Guten Morgen, Mamma Hebert."
Annette blinked. "Yuu… how?" She raised a hand. "Wait, coffee first."
A steaming carafe and a mug labeled USS Taylor appeared on the table.
"Thank you." Annette sat down, took a sip, and grimaced. "Explain."
The girls exchanged a glance.
"We have no clue," Taylor said. "I woke up this morning with Yuu in a cuddle pile."
"It was nice," the German U-boat nodded, smiling faintly. "Like being with my sisters."
"So… are you like Spinner now?"
Taylor shook her head. "No, I don't think so."
"Ja," Yuu said, finishing her cereal before reaching for a bagel. "Your daughter is our Flag, our anchor. She is part of us; we are part of her. But I will soon return to the endless sea."
Annette blinked, still trying to process. "What about the others?"
"We're going to see how long Yuu can stay out," Taylor said thoughtfully. "I'm going to try pulling out the rest. Not sure how long they'll last, but it'd be nice if we could all go to the shrine together on New Year's Day."
Protectorate ENE Headquarters, Brockton Bay
The Endbringer Truce had been extended another twenty-four hours, as celebrations were still going strong. The morning switchover meeting was also pushed forward an hour, which most of the Protectorate thought was for the best, as they looked a little worse for wear as they shuffled in.
"Gully's Maple Mead?" Director Piggot questioned with a smirk.
Everyone nodded.
"Good morning, Director," Dragon's voice suddenly came through a monitor Armsmaster had set up. "How are you feeling? I heard you were in a car accident."
Piggot sighed. "Yes, good morning, Dragon. I'm fine. Last night on my way home, someone ran the light on Island Avenue near McPherson's. I was hit on the driver's side."
"I hate that intersection," Velocity muttered.
Battery looked up, concerned. "I guess it wasn't serious?"
"It could've been, but Newfoundland was nearby."
That raised a few eyebrows. Piggot had always refused healing from Parahumans like Panacea. But looking closely, her usual grey pallor was gone, and she looked healthier—maybe even slimmer.
"When I told her I don't consent to Parahuman healing," Piggot explained, exasperated, "she replied, 'Good thing I'm not a Parahuman,' and brought me on board."
"On board?" Miss Militia leaned forward.
Piggot nodded. "Yes. I can confirm the rumors. The Fleet girls have some sort of pocket space. I was on a hospital ship, crewed entirely by female doctors and nurses from World War Two."
"Fascinating," Armsmaster murmured.
"She also confirmed shipgirls were involved in the encounter with the Simurgh. After being released from the hospital this morning, I spoke with the Chief Director. The President already knew—apparently the Navy had spoken to, I believe, Archerfish. Newfoundland's confirmation was appreciated, though she didn't share too many details."
"I read your report last night, Director," Dragon said. "The Prime Minister and Guild members have also been notified."
“Good.”
"Do we know which shipgirls were there?" Velocity asked.
"I heard someone reported it might've been the Iowas," Battery offered.
Photos suddenly appeared on the overhead monitor, surprising no one. They revealed the four battleships: BB-61 USS Iowa , BB-62 USS New Jersey , BB-63 USS Missouri , and BB-64 USS Wisconsin .
"Those are some big guns," Assault whistled.
Armsmaster read aloud: "Sixteen-inch guns, twenty dual-purpose five-inch guns, eighty 40 mm Bofors in quad mounts, and forty-nine 20 mm Oerlikons."
"And the Simurgh tried flying through that?" Assault grinned. "What are the orders if we meet these shipgirls?"
"Thank them for their service," Velocity said earnestly.
Everyone paused, then nodded.
"Director, Dragon brought up some information this morning. We thought you would be interested in hearing it before we write a report," Armsmaster suddenly said.
Piggot, now intrigued, looked at her monitor. "Look at my calendar and schedule something for today. Now, let's discuss this holiday's patrol schedule."
Two Miles Offshore, Moonstone Beach, Rhode Island
Taylor looked up, sighing as the other shipgirls ran through anti-submarine drills. Someone had been following them since they left the Bay, keeping a respectful distance but still watching.
"With our new friend observing," Spinner said, stretching, "you won't be able to bring anyone else out."
Taylor shrugged. "Can't be helped."
So far, she'd managed to summon briefly all the ships directly connected to her—even Wisconsin . Archerfish and Yūudachi had come together and stayed out for a few hours. Yuu had remained most of the morning before returning. All of them were willing to try again.
"Pretty sure she wants to speak to Huron ," Eagle said, nodding toward the girl beside her.
"I'll give her a call," said the Canadian Tribal-class destroyer, moving off, touching her ear.
"How are you feeling?" Taylor asked Eagle.
"Great. Whatever Vulcan did improved my steering a bit," the patrol craft grinned.
"Good. Not much we can do without a proper dry dock. Still, thankfully, the Navy found those modernization plans—even if Vulcan had to tweak them for your class," Taylor said, circling her with a practiced eye. "Still, didn't need to do much."
"Well, even if they called us pickle-boats, we were ahead of our time," Eagle smiled proudly.
"Ahh, good afternoon," the armored suit finally came into range. "My name is Dragon. I thought I would introduce myself, as I don't believe the Fleet has spoken to any members of the Guild."
Taylor sailed forward. She hadn't been able to change into another shipgirl, so her anonymity might soon come to an end, which, surprisingly, hadn't happened already.
"Good afternoon, Dragon. A pleasure. I am USS Taylor. Let me introduce you to the rest of my division. Beside me is USCGC Spinner."
"So cool," whispered the Coast Guard patrol craft, waving excitedly before reaching for her phone to take a photo
"USS Eagle, ma'am."
"Greetings, Dragon. I am called HMCS Huron." The Tribal-class destroyer nodded respectfully.
"There are members of the Canadian Maritime Command who would love to speak to you," the parahuman said warmly.
Huron looked toward her Flagship, who nodded.
"I am sure something can be arranged. In addition, the Royal Navy sent word this morning about sending one of their officers to speak to Newfoundland after the New Year. So perhaps someplace convenient for everyone," she offered.
As Taylor, Huron, and Dragon stood off to talk, Spinner took a few photos before leaning over and whispering to Eagle, "Well, what do you think?"
The Navy patrol craft nodded. "She almost feels like one of us."
Spinner grinned. "Interesting, huh?"
Protectorate HQ, Houston
Eidolon rubbed his eyes. It had been a long day—a long week, even. Worse, the headache wouldn't go away, something that had started after the Endbringer attack. Thankfully, with the truce still holding, he turned off the lights in his office for most of the day and relaxed for once.
Still, no rest for the wicked.
Grumbling, he leaned up from his chair. "Going to be late."
He opened his office door and called out to his PA, who was reviewing budget numbers. "Audrey, I'm heading out. Why don't you do the same?"
"Sir?" the older woman replied. Telling her to leave early was unusual—but not unwelcome.
"We can put that off until the first of the year. Go be with your daughter, she's here with her family for the holidays, right? Tomorrow will be a short day anyway, so take that off too. I'll see you Monday." David smiled. "Anyway, I've got a meeting, then I think I'm going home to get some sleep."
"All right, sir. Thank you and have a Happy New Year."
"God, I still stink. It's like it's gotten into my pores," he muttered, sniffing his arm after opening his car door.
He kept smelling wet dog, and it wouldn't go away no matter how much he scrubbed. Still, it was getting better than when he'd found himself lying on the beach after the Endbringer attack. He had no clue how he got there.
The extra time it took to get home didn't bother him either. Usually, it would have, but Houstonians knew how to party, and it didn't look like they were stopping anytime soon.
"Door," he called out—and walked straight into the middle of an argument between Doctor Mother and Rebecca.
"Can you two lower your voices? My head's killing me," he announced, slipping into a chair.
"Still hungover?" Legend grinned.
"No, just this weird headache that won't go away. I think I need like eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. Anyway, I know better than guzzling Gully's homemade mead. That stuff will strip paint." David sighed, closing his eyes. "So why are we here again?"
"We have to do something about the shipgirls," Doctor Mother announced.
"Why? They're on the ocean and pretty much keep to themselves. If they want to sail on Lake Houston, they're welcome. I'll even teach them how to fish."
"Because their influence is spreading."
"So, what?"
"You know how to fish?" Legend asked, amused.
"Sure. Been a while. I still have Granddad's fishing rods somewhere in the basement," David mused.
"Because they're interfering with the plan."
"They swatted the Simurgh out of the sky. Even the Japanese couldn't deal with four Iowas on a good day. And from what I read this morning, some of their sub-girls had something to do with Leviathan's disappearance. That's a win in my book."
Alexandria had a half-smile on her face. No one expected David to defend the Fleet.
"Seriously, Contessa doesn't think there's a problem," he continued.
The fedora-wearing parahuman just raised the glass she was drinking from.
"Are you okay, David?" Kurt—also known as the Number Man—asked, stopping his work to glance up from his computer.
"Haven't felt this good in years. Except for this blasted headache." He turned toward Doctor Mother. "Listen, when's the last time you left this building? You need to get out, walk around, get drunk, get laid, whatever. Being stuck in here all the time isn't good for your mental health."
With that, he stood up. "Door."
"Where are you going?" Rebecca asked.
"To get some sleep. I have a date tomorrow for New Year's Eve."
Legend looked surprised. "You have a date?"
David looked embarrassed, rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah, I finally asked Meredith out. Anyway, later."
The five stared momentarily at the spot where Eidolon vanished before Legend stood up. "Good idea. I'm going home."
"Sounds like a plan," Rebecca nodded.
"Sure, why not?" Kurt closed his laptop and followed the others.
"You really should take Eidolon's advice," Contessa said before disappearing.
Doctor Mother just sat there, stunned, alone in an empty room. "What the hell just happened?"
Amano Kawa Shrine, Brockton Bay
It was Hatsumode, the first shrine visit of the year. For those in attendance who had never expected to visit a shrine, no one could have imagined how much things would change in such a short time.
The Bay was cleared. Shipping had started again, fishing was good, and jobs were returning. Even the rail line, which had been rusting, was now being repaired, and the first trains had arrived for the first time in almost a decade.
Even better, the city was becoming safe. Crime had gone down. You could now walk in areas that were once dangerous with little fear. The gangs, which had been a fixture for decades, had vanished seemingly overnight.
The parahuman villains weren't returning either, thanks to the Navy and Coast Guard's significant presence now that the harbor was open. And Lung—who many believed would be just another two-bit gangster—had apparently settled down, becoming a respectable businessman.
Well, mostly.
Of course, everyone knew why—the Kami, the shipgirls, who were now wandering around the shrine. Although not every member of the Fleet was in attendance, all were dressed in formal naval uniforms, except for Yūudachi, who wore a beautiful black and red kimono.
Taylor moved gracefully, somewhat disappointed she couldn't attend with her mother, who was walking around with Yuu, along with Lacy, Kurt, and Rachael. Meeting Dragon out on the ocean had been unexpected. Still, the decision not to appear as herself, at least for now, was probably for the best.
Looking around, she saw that everyone was having fun. Archerfish and Spinner were trying their hand at goldfish scooping, while Shadowstalker and Vista, dressed nicely but in civies, watched with amusement.
Not far from them, Newfoundland, Eagle, and the Dallons wandered around the food stalls, picking out unfamiliar treats to try.
Three shipgirls were her limit, though. Maybe the others could visit later—after all, Hatsumode lasted three days.
Suddenly, she felt someone tugging on the sleeve of her kimono. Looking down, she saw an adorable little girl wearing her own pretty outfit.
Jenny appeared at her side, kneeling to the young girl's level. "Well, aren't you a cutie?"
A harried young mother immediately followed, bowing deeply. "Mōshiwake arimasen, Yūudachi-sama."
"Daijoubu desu," Yūudachi smiled.
"Perhaps she wants a picture," Jenny offered, receiving a cute nod from the little girl.
She then approached the slightly embarrassed but amused father. "Sir, why don't you join them? I'll take the photo."
Afterward, the two girls stood off to the side, watching the crowd, which now kept a respectful distance.
Jenny then looked toward the shrine's entrance, smiled, and bowed to her friend. "Thank you."
"For what?"
Taylor then watched as her friend's parents, brother, and girlfriend arrived. But her grandmother stood out the most, with a bright smile on her face.
"For everything." Jenny gave her a quick hug before walking over to join her family.
Taylor watched, then started toward the harbor, passing by people who stopped and bowed in her wake.
She, too, was thankful because her father's dream had finally come true. The city was coming to life again. Standing at the water's edge, she watched a large cargo ship clear the breakers and head into port. It had been scheduled to unload in New York, but now—with Brockton Bay harbor open—its contents would be loaded into trains either tonight or tomorrow morning.
And best of all, the day after tomorrow, the ferry service would begin once more.
With that, she turned away, returning to the shrine and her friends.
– Finis –
Afterward.
The waters around Kyūshū, ever since its sinking, had come to be known as Kanashimi no Umi—the Sea of Sorrow . No boats dared travel upon it. No fishing lines were cast. The sea was thought to be cursed, its dead sleeping fitfully beneath the waves.
It had been a stormy night, the waters rough, but just before sunrise, a young woman stood upon the waves as if a door had been opened. With short brown hair, held back by a golden headband shaped like stylized radar masts, she moved on the angry waves with unnatural grace. Gone was her rigging, replaced by white silk and a golden chihaya, a ceremonial shrine maiden overcoat, a symbol of purity and reverence fluttering at her shoulders.
In her hands were no weapons of war but a pair of suzu bells, their chimes ringing clear, burning away the darkness.
With each step, she moved in harmony with the waves.
It was the Mikokagura, a sacred dance for the fallen souls sleeping beneath the sea. And as she turned, the bells rang out again, and the sea responded. Its fury abated as the clouds began to clear.
As the rising sun broke the horizon, the heavy mists vanished along with the shipgirl, but deep beneath the surface, the ocean floor that was once the island of Kyūshū began to stir.
To be Continued in 'Anchors Away!'