The unit gathered at the 9th Colony as the sun began to hit the salt on the shore. The village was a ghost of its former self; the few surviving locals moved with the hollow obedience of those who had seen their world burn and decided that living as a Draemiran subject was better than the alternative.
Kuma laid out his blueprints in the sand, his eyes bloodshot from a night of calculations. "The shape has to be spherical," he explained, sketching a globe. "Angled surfaces will buckle. We need to distribute the pressure equally. I’ve settled on a dual-layered hull: an outer skin of reinforced rubber for flexibility and waterproofing, with an inner skeleton of high-tensile steel to keep us from being flattened by the pressure."
"And the air?" Skida asked, crossing her arms.
"A snorkel system," Kuma replied. "A long, flexible pipe extending to the surface. We’ll camouflage the intake with sea-tangle and weed."
The Wanderer looked at the sketch, then at the churning waves. "The real issue is navigation. We’ll be blind. Once we’re down there, we won’t know if we’re heading for the mountains or a reef."
"Can we add glass ports for vision?" Skida suggested.
Kuma shook his head. "Standard glass will shatter the moment we drop past twenty meters. It’s a structural weak point we can’t afford."
To prove the concept, they spent the next few hours manifesting the vessel. It was a collaborative conjuring. Kuma acted as the architect, holding the blueprint in his mind, while the Wanderer and Skida’s elite guards poured mana into the "back door," pulling iron from the earth and sap from the nearby trees to weave the steel and rubber together.
The result was a matte-black sphere that bobbed heavily in the shallows. Kuma and the Wanderer climbed through the top hatch for a test run.
Inside, the air was cramped and smelled of raw mana. As they submerged, the sound of the world stopped, replaced by the creak of the hull.
"It’s steady," Kuma whispered, his brow glistening with sweat as he pushed his mana into the walls to reinforce the steel. "But the pressure is fighting me every inch. It takes a lot of focus to keep this from collapsing."
The Wanderer sat at the manual controls for the fins, his eyes closed, sensing the dark water pressing against the fins. "The rest of the unit will help sustain the mana during the actual trip. That should lighten the load."
Silence fell between them, broken only by the hum of the vessel. Kuma looked over at his friend. "Don’t you feel anything? Returning to Lythra as an invader?"
The Wanderer’s hands tightened, as he was pouring mana to navigate. "I have mixed feelings. Lythra rejected me. Every faction there tried to use me or kill me. But... it’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a home."
"Where were you before Lythra?" Kuma asked, his voice soft.
Before the Wanderer could answer, a violent hit rocked the sphere. The vessel groaned, tilting sharply to the left.
"Something hit us!" Kuma barked, closing his eyes to sense the damage. "A submerged rock. It tore through the outer rubber at the base. We're losing integrity, we need to surface now."
The Wanderer pushed his hands down letting the mana push them up, the vessel breached the surface.
They dragged the damaged craft back to the shore, where Skida was waiting.
"Report," she demanded.
"It worked," Kuma said, wiping salt from his face. "But we’re blind. We hit a reef we couldn't see. If we use a large-scale detection spell, any Lythran monk with half a brain will pick up our signature instantly. A small radius won't give us enough time to react."
Kuma paced the sand, staring at the snorkel pipe. "I could extend the pipe and use a series of mirrors to see above the waves. But no seaweed grows that tall or moves that straight. We’d be spotted from the shore in minutes."
The Wanderer looked out at the horizon, where grey shapes dived through the surf. "How about we use dolphins?"
"Living ones?" Kuma asked, skeptical.
"No," the Wanderer replied. "We hunt a couple. We hollow out the carcasses and use them as decoys for the intake pipes. To any scout on the walls, it’ll just look like dolphins playing around."
Kuma looked disgusted by the idea. “ We kill animals to make a vessel?”
Skida replied. “ First you cry for humans…now animals.” She waved her hand dismissively. “ Get to it.”
They hunted the dolphins as planned, hollowing out the carcasses to serve as decoy for their vessel.
Submerged once more, Kuma said. "It’s holding," he muttered, his voice echoing in the cramped, metallic space. "The vision through the pipe is clear, and the airflow is steady even with the extra length. The seals are tight."
"Let’s push further out," the Wanderer said, his hands steady on the mana-flow. "We move for an hour to test the integrity under pressure, to be certain before we commit to the crossing."
Kuma nodded, but his focus drifted from the mirrors. He quieted for a long moment before speaking. "You think Skida hasn't noticed? That we’re stronger than we’re letting on?"
"If I had to guess, she doesn't care enough to look," the Wanderer replied. "She juggles too many roles. Ambition makes her distant enough to miss the details."
"I despise her," Kuma said, the words heavy. "Everything she is, everything she represents."
"Despising her won't change the reality of where we are. I focus on the task. Thinking too much about the rest is a distraction we can't afford."
Kuma turned his head, eyes narrowing. "But that makes you just like her."
The Wanderer’s posture stiffened, a flash of anger behind his eyes. "You think I’m like Skida?"
"You're both ruthless," Kuma said. "You both look at the larger picture and ignore who you have to step over to reach it."
The Wanderer looked away, staring into the dark swirl of mana powering the craft. "I’m being efficient. Emotions are a luxury for people who aren't fighting to stay alive. You can’t feel sorry for anyone if you’re dead. I thought you understood that by now."
"Exactly what Skida would say," Kuma whispered.
The Wanderer remained silent for a breath, his grip tightening. "Maybe we should split up after this mission."
Kuma looked at him with genuine hurt, then looked the other way, focusing on the vessel. "I think so too."
"Let’s get back to the shore."
The Wanderer navigated the vessel back through the surf in total silence. No more words were exchanged. Only the silence of the depth.
The vessel scraped against the sand as they reached the shore.
Kuma climbed out, checking the seals one last time. "Everything is holding for now, but we need more tests before we attempt the crossing to Lythra."
Skida stood waiting. "The army arrives in a week," she said, her voice cutting through the sound of the surf. "That should be enough time."
"I’m going to wash off the salt," the Wanderer said, turning away. He didn't look back, but he heard Skida while moving into the colony, mocking Kuma.
"What happened out there?" she asked. "A little trouble in paradise?"
"Just a difference of opinion," Kuma replied, his voice flat. "I’m going to wash up as well."
The days that followed were defined by the heavy silence. They fell into a routine: drills, vessel repairs, and final adjustments. They spoke only when the task demanded it, their previous camaraderie replaced by a professional distance.
On the morning of the invasion, the horizon was choked with the steel and banners of the Draemiran army. The Wanderer stood by the shore, listening to Skida’s voice carry over the dunes. She spoke of courage and glory, a rousing speech designed to boost morale before she sent them to their inevitable deaths.
He and Kuma ignored the spectacle, focusing on the final checks. They replaced the decaying dolphin carcasses with fresh decoys.
Skida’s speech reached its crescendo, ended by the thunderous chants of "For the Empire!" echoing from the troops. A few minutes later, she approached the shore, the dust of the camp still clinging to her cape.
"Is it ready?" she asked.
Kuma replied. "Everything is set, General."
She gestured to her personal guard to follow. They stepped into the cramped interior of the vessel.
Kuma gave a hand to help the Wanderer enter the hatch, he avoided the hand and the gaze, jumping in on his own without looking back, Kuma followed in sealing the hatch
The hatch closed shut, and they departed for Lythra, slipping beneath the waves for the surprise attack.