The walk back to Tidebound Front’s fortifications felt like stepping out of one world and into another.

  The streets they had bled through hours before were hushed now, ash lying soft over cracked stone, dust sifting into the grooves left by boots and hooves. Bodies, some whole, some not, remained where they had fallen, already losing definition under the settling gray. No Drowned lurked in the alleys. No restless dead waited behind doorframes. The only sound was the hollow slap of their boots against cobbles still dark from the rain that must have fallen overnight.

  They made one stop, and it wasn’t for rest.

  The Ebonwake Conclave received Elara’s body with the precision of surgeons and the solemnity of priests, their black robes snapping in the courtyard wind. They made no wailing or speeches, only moved with deliberate care as they transferred her to a shrouded stretcher. Someone murmured in an unfamiliar tongue while a thin trail of incense curled into the air. Kade couldn’t decide which unsettled her more: the utter lack of emotion or the fact it didn’t seem cruel. Just… efficient. Like they had done this too many times to count.

  From there, it was all stone and silence until the harbor walls came into view.

  The wind shifted, carrying salt and the sharp scent of the ocean. Somewhere ahead, gulls bickered over a catch, their cries cutting through the steady percussion of hammers on wood. Kade let the noise work its way in, replacing the metallic stink of blood and the cold fog of the cemetery.

  The Talon sat in dry dock beyond the barricades, her hull stripped down in patches where carpenters worked, rigging sagging loose as if the ship herself was asleep. Crew still lived aboard, hammocks strung between beams while sawdust rained from the work platforms above. Normally, repairs this extensive would have meant that the Talon wasn’t leaving the dry dock anytime soon. However, in the last twenty-four hours, the engineers of the Tidebound Front had already made tremendous progress. It was clear that having a team of the engineer class work on the ship greatly sped up the repairs.

  "Not often we get back without something trying to kill us," Lawson said beside her, his voice almost casual despite the lingering swelling along his nose and the slight limp in his stride, the healed injuries from the cemetery still leaving him sore.

  Kade gave him a sidelong look. "Don’t jinx it. We still have to sit in the same room with Captain Voss and Bishop to debrief them."

  "That’s different," Lawson said. "That’s politics. You can’t stab politics."

  She let a thin smile ghost across her face. "You’re just not trying hard enough."

  The gate loomed ahead, guard towers bristling with crossbows and the Tidebound Front’s banner snapping overhead. Somewhere in there, a meeting waited, and with it the next problem. The kind you couldn’t solve with a cutlass, at least not in public.

  The base was a hive of motion. Under the vaulted walkways, the sharp clank of tools echoed, mixing with the calls of work supervisors and rumbling carts. The air smelled of salt, tar, and hot metal. Tidebound Front guards patrolled between crews with the watchfulness of soldiers expecting trouble, their followed Kade and the rest of her team as they passed. She noted the lack of discipline in their spacing, the way several corridors went unobserved. Her Marines would have made quick work of the Tidebound Front's guards if it came to it.

  While the Tidebound Front’s walls were solid enough to hold against a siege, Kade knew wood and steel alone would not save them. Without better soldiers, any determined attack would bleed the Tidebound Front white, and even victory would come at a cost too steep to pay without an unhealthy share of luck.

  Repair crews swarmed over the Talon’s exposed hull as they approached, while dockworkers hauled crates and barrels from the pier to the warehouses. Teams from other ships in the harbor came and went, unloading salvage from distant runs. Kade and Lawson stepped through it all, moving toward the ramp where Captain Voss and Bishop waited. Bishop stood with his hands clasped loosely behind his back, eyes moving over the docks as if cataloguing every movement. Voss focused his attention on them alone, his stance squared and unreadable.

  As soon as their boots hit the deck, Briggs and the combat-capable Marines broke off toward their own debrief. Stone gathered the few still nursing wounds and steered them toward the infirmary. That left Kade and Lawson climbing the ramp to meet their Captain and Bishop.

  "Report," Voss said, eyes scanning the pair for anything worse than fatigue.

  Kade gave the rundown. The primary objective had been to assess the nature of the world event, and what they found left little doubt: the undead were not only increasing in number but growing stronger, and now they were engaging other monsters as well. Cemeteries might be focal points for such events, as the team had encountered one that Mireya described as feeling very much like a scripted dungeon boss encounter.

  Kade added, almost as an afterthought, that it might be in the Talon’s interest to explore a few dungeons in the future, since Mireya claimed they offered better loot and supplies. She also noted the recovery of an artifact from the event boss, taken by Mireya, who did not reveal what she believed it did. Still, Kade had a strong impression it was important to the larger world event. Finally, she did not skip Mireya herself. The Ebonwake Conclave’s people were supposed to be quiet academics, content to catalogue the Simulation’s oddities without taking sides. Yet Mireya’s display of raw power when Elara fell was burned into Kade's mind.

  "They’re sitting on more information about what is going on than they admit," she finished. "A lot more."

  That opened the door to the real discussion, where the Talon’s allegiance should fall. Establishing a Safe Zone meant stability, but it also meant planting their flag in someone else’s war. The Restoration Council had its vision, the Tidebound Front had theirs, and neither would let the other go unchallenged.

  Contested Zone Claimed! A faction currently contesting control of a local Safe Zone has secured one of the five needed objectives. You were within the contested area at the time of the claim but did not participate in the engagement. No loot or experience awarded.

  Contested region 2 of 5 secured for the Restoration Council

  Voss glanced toward the harbor. "Seems the Restoration Council has been busy on their own." His voice carried no heat, only the acknowledgment that the world beyond the Talon’s decks kept moving whether they were there or not.

  Kade folded her arms, letting the moment settle. Every victory on the board meant another piece taken in a game where no one had explained the rules. And now, two factions held contested ground, each claiming to be the safer bet. Both the Tidebound Front and the Restoration Council had their own slanted views, and neither truly aligned with the Talon’s objectives. Kade thought the Ebonwake Conclave might excel at research, but she didn't trust them to administer a safe zone.

  She studied the faces around her for a heartbeat, taking in the set of Lawson’s jaw, the slight narrowing of Bishop’s eyes, and the way Voss seemed to be measuring the air between them. They were all thinking the same thing, that whatever choice they made would shape the Talon’s future.

  Lawson’s tone was confident when he spoke. "If we decided to back one of them, my Marines could tip the balance fast. But we’d have to be sure they’re worth it."

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  "We do have a duty to the civilians, but the ship’s needs come first. Without the Talon in fighting shape, we won’t be helping anyone for long." Bishop said.

  Voss exhaled slowly, then said, "Best we can do for the moment is try to mediate the three as a neutral party."

  "We're not in a position to throw our hat into the ring, nor do we really want to," Kade said. "That being said, I'm not sure we should leave until this issue is resolved either."

  "No, I agree. While it would be in our personal best interest to get the ship repaired and then go looking for more information on Project Catalyst, I can't in good conscience abandon these people," Voss replied.

  Kade let the words settle and considered the board they were standing on. The current stalemate served no one in the Tidebound Front or the Restoration Council, except to keep either side from losing too much ground to the other. The only faction she could see profiting from the deadlock was the Ebonwake Conclave, whose scholars seemed content to work without oversight or accountability. Meanwhile, it was the civilians who paid the price, scraping together a living each day while their so-called leaders fought over power instead of protecting the people they claimed to serve.

  Bishop cleared his throat, drawing their attention. "Speaking of the ship, work crews are moving faster than I anticipated."

  Lawson’s brow lifted slightly. "Faster how?"

  "The hull patches are sealed, rigging’s being replaced, and all visible battle damage is on schedule to be repaired by end of day tomorrow," Bishop said.

  "That’s more than I expected in a day. What else?" Kade asked.

  "We’ve made some modifications," Bishop continued. "Reinforced boarding nets and grappling gear for close-quarters engagements, extra alchemical gunpowder storage for faster reloads, and a small crow’s nest repeater ballista for anti-personnel use at close range."

  Kade’s lips curved faintly. "Sounds like we’re planning for trouble."

  "Planning to be ready for it," Bishop replied evenly. "At this rate, we could launch a day early if needed."

  "That’s good," Voss said, a rare note of approval in his voice. "Options are worth more than gold right now."

  Bishop allowed himself a thin smile. "I was also able to make Chief Gunner’s Mate Maleko extremely happy. Burrell Haskett offered up eight broadside cannons, along with chain shot and grape shot in addition to the standard round shot. They’re scheduled for delivery and installation tomorrow."

  The image formed in Kade’s mind without effort: the weight of cold iron lined along the Talon’s gunwales, the deafening crack and gut-deep shudder of all eight firing in close succession, smoke curling through the rigging while the ship reeled from the recoil. That kind of firepower could change the outcome of a fight before it even began.

  Kade arched a brow. "Generous of him. Probably trying to smooth things over after using our crew to deliver Warehouse Seventeen into his hands."

  Kade let the update settle in. A stronger ship meant more options, and in the days ahead, options would be as valuable as any weapon.

  Kade’s attention shifted when movement caught her eye down the docks. Burrell Haskett, flanked by several guards, was heading their way with a determined stride, his coat flaring slightly with each step. Even at this distance, she could see the set of his jaw. He wasn’t here for pleasantries. She felt her shoulders tense and adjusted her footing. Lawson noticed too, his gaze narrowing, and both of them shifted their hands toward their weapons without drawing. He still carried the sabre taken from the cemetery’s event boss, Colonel Silas Drake, Bone Marshal of the Eastern March.

  Bishop’s eyes followed hers, while Voss’s expression flattened into something unreadable. The four of them stood in a quiet line as Burrell closed the distance, his guards’ boots thudding against the planks.

  He stopped at the base of the ramp and lifted his chin. "Permission to come aboard?"

  Voss gave a curt nod. "Granted."

  Burrell left his guards on the dock and climbed the ramp alone. The boards gave a low, steady creak under his boots, the sound slipping into the quiet between bursts of dockside shouts. A change in the wind pulled at Kade’s coat, sending a thread of cool air past her as she tracked his approach. up the ramp. Leaving his guards below eased some of the immediate tension, but it was plain enough he had come with a grievance for the crew of the Horizon Talon.

  His gaze swept over them, weighing each face before he spoke. "Tell me straight, did your crew have anything to do with the Restoration Council taking control of one of the contested zones?"

  Kade found it telling that he didn’t think the Restoration Council had anyone capable of doing it themselves. Weren’t they supposed to be former police and National Guard? Maybe that had been a lie, or an exaggeration.

  "I can promise you, we had nothing to do with it," Voss said firmly.

  Burrell’s jaw tightened. "Then I’m asking you to help me take the remaining contested areas so we can establish a Safe Zone."

  Voss held up a calming hand. "We’re staying neutral unless there’s a clear reason not to. I’m willing to act as a mediator between the three parties, help them find some common ground on how to move forward. A Safe Zone will only last here if all sides commit to it together."

  "The Restoration Council won't agree to that, and the Ebonwake folks don't want anyone to have oversight over them. This whole situation is going to come to a head really quick."

  Burrell’s breath came sharper, and his voice picked up speed. "Undead have been testing the fortifications more often now, and they’re getting bolder. Salvage ships keep coming back with tales of things no one’s seen before." He paused, eyes flicking toward the bay. "Like that."

  Following his finger and using her eyepatch to zoom in, Kade caught sight of the pale mass gliding under the surface, a great white shark moving slow through the water. It wouldn't be unusual to see a great white in the Northwest Atlantic in the late summer as they hunt the local seal population. This one was unusual, though, as its flesh was torn from its body in several places, exposing the bone beneath. The dorsal fin gliding above the water was missing several large chunks from it.

  [Analyze] Undead Great White | Level: 10 | Status: Hostile | Class: Beast

  "That," Burrell said, voice flat, "is just one more reminder that the world’s gone mad."

  The monstrosity slipped under the water with a sluggish roll, its wake sending a spiral of oily ripples across the bay. The surface frothed in brief, irregular bursts, as if something far larger shifted in the depths beneath. Kade’s gut tightened at the sight, a creeping revulsion threading through the old familiarity of seeing predators at sea. She had watched living great whites before, sleek and graceful in their movements, apex hunters with a kind of majestic presence. This was wrong. The undead thing moved with a disjointed, puppet-like rhythm, as though its body remembered how to swim but had forgotten why. She made a mental note not to issue any swim calls once the Talon was out of dry dock.

  The conversation among the five of them was cut short as a shout from above cut through the low hum of dockside work. "Ship in distress!" The call came from the Talon’s crow’s nest, echoed an instant later by a similar cry from the Tidebound Front’s harbor lookout.

  Kade’s head snapped toward the harbor mouth. A battered brigantine limped into view, its sails hanging in shredded ribbons, hull marred with deep gouges and blackened holes that could only have come from cannon fire. The ship listed slightly, fighting the tide as it crawled toward safety. Work on the docks ground to a halt, dockhands and guards alike staring at the incoming wreck. Kade caught sight of faction leaders moving closer, Burrell’s voice already rising above the growing murmur.

  She brought her eyepatch into focus. On the brigantine’s deck, the crew staggered between lines and railings, bloodied and ragged. Near the wheel, a man slumped over, one hand weakly braced against the spokes. Even from here, she could tell he was conscious, though barely, his face drawn tight with pain and his movements sluggish.

  Burrell was already shouting down to the dockworkers, ordering lines readied, and medical teams dispatched. The brigantine’s helm wavered, but it kept bearing toward the pier.

  "They've got injured on deck," Kade said. "There is no way they have full control of that ship."

  "Looks like they sailed through a war." Bishop added.

  Kade frowned. Without enough sail or steerageway, it wouldn’t be able to stop under its own power. The captain might bring it close, but from there, it would be up to the dock crews to catch her. In the age of sail, that meant heavy heaving lines thrown to waiting hands, followed by stout mooring cables and the brute pull of a dozen bodies hauling the ship’s momentum to a halt before it splintered against the pilings. But with so few crew left standing on her deck, Kade knew they’d never manage the lines in time. Unless the dockside teams pulled off a miracle, the brigantine was going to slam straight into the pier.

  "Stone to the deck," Voss called over his shoulder. "And bring the other clerics."

  Burrell’s sharp voice cut in before anyone could move. "Belay that on the lines!" he shouted toward the dock crews. "Clear the pier! Let her hit and we’ll move in once the damn thing stops."

  Without waiting for agreement, he started down the ramp, glancing back to motion them along. Voss, Bishop, Lawson, and Kade fell in behind him, Stone and the other two clerics joining their small group as they moved to intercept the brigantine once it was safe to board.

  We’re currently five weeks ahead on Patreon for Tides of Ruin. That means there are ten full chapters already live and waiting, filled with action, intrigue, undead monstrosities, faction politics, and morally gray choices.

  If you’d like to support the work and explore even further, come visit the Patreon. Your support helps keep the story alive and me going.

  ROCarson