There was an old saying amongst pirates: “A ship is only as strong as its weakest crewmate.” A derivation of another idiom about chains or whatever.

Dennier found herself thinking about that as the [Warpbox] blew a giant, lobby-of-the-Serenity-sized hole in her plans.

She sat there atop Zephyr, who roared at the frightened hostages gripping at the railings of the balcony. Thinking as the Serenity plummeted thousands of feet through the Western Expanse, down to the ocean below.

It had been an admittedly stunning sight. The moment that [Warpbox] hit the airshield, it popped like a ripe grape. She managed to see the faintest hint of a card spinning before Chaos energy burst forth in a seemingly endless spew that coalesced around the card, becoming a powerful vortex that sucked in everything around it. The sight of the Serenity’s bottom layer just shucking off… she’d never forget it.

Everything was ruined. Her plans. Her dream. Her crew, useless lot that they were. What was Duro thinking bringing the [Warpbox] out in the open like that? What was she thinking, trusting them to handle such a volatile weapon?

In the end, all fault came back to her. She was the captain. She messed up. She over-reached, made poor decisions, and was now paying the price.

She was the weakest crewmate.

Zephyr’s wings rose up around her, shielding her from the weak Attacks of the hostages. Former hostages, her mind corrected her. The wyrm rose up higher, getting them out of range, and made a keening noise.

She smiled and patted her on the neck. She felt… unmoored. Detached from her body.

Down below, the remaining passengers and crew hurried aboard the Scapegoat. A few stayed behind on the balcony, keeping an eye on her. One of them was that Eila girl.

It would be so easy for her to command Zephyr to use [Wind Breath] and destroy the ship. The [Engine Crystal] was at the aft; one good strike and the whole thing would blow.

She found herself holding back, though. A part of it was because she respected them. She’d been expecting the passengers aboard a ship like the Serenity to be foppish and spoiled. The type that would wipe their hands clean with their embroidered handkerchief after touching a public door. Instead, she’d found fighters. Warriors. She liked that, though it was rather annoying.

The greater part of her just didn’t care anymore. She had failed remarkably, and her client—whoever he was—had demonstrated to her his capacity to reach her across space and time. She was dead regardless. What did it matter to her if the former hostages survived or not?

Movement below caught her attention. It was that girl, Eila. She was running towards the doors to the fifth floor. Through the screaming wind rushing into the punctured airshield, Dennier heard her scream.

“Tristan!”

At that, a little spark returned in Dennier’s chest.

Her fate was sealed, yes.

But she wasn’t going down without that fucking rat.

—🃁—

Tristan ran through the fifth floor with all his might. Through the open balcony doors at the end, he saw people—the remaining passengers and crew—boarding the pirate ship. In front was Eila, running towards him and shouting his name. His heart soared when he saw her alive.

A shadow descended down. Eila was cut off mid-stride as a clawed foot hooked around her body.

The [Sky Wyrm]. Dennier.

Tristan used his last cast of [Jetstream] and tore through the remainder of the floor. He burst out through the doors and spun around. Above him was Dennier atop the wyrm, Eila struggling in the monster’s clutch.

Dennier met his eyes briefly before the wyrm flew up to the very top of the airship.

“Lad!” shouted a familiar voice. Tristan turned and saw Rivingtol running towards him, the other hostages having ran inside the pirate airship already.

The man came to a halt and looked up, cursing loudly.

“Do you have any buffs you can cast on me?” Tristan asked, pulling his last cast of Funguy from his deck.

“No, I’m all out,” Rivingtol said. Tristan nodded curtly and summoned Funguy. The lancer appeared beside him.

“Tristan,” Rivingtol said. “Is… Sir Barrihald…?”

“I’m sorry,” Tristan said, commanding Funguy to lower his lance. “He died helping me break the lockdown. I have his cards. I’ll give them to you once I kill the captain.”

Rivingtol bent his head. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“Get ready to detach the pirate ship,” Tristan said. He hopped atop the lance and bent down, gripping the thinner tip with his hand. “I’m going to send Eila down with my Summon. Find some people with appropriate cards to catch her safely.”

Rivingtol frowned. “Lad, what are you doing?”

Tristan commanded Funguy to use [Empowered Lance]. The weapon glowed with Earth energy as the lancer hefted the lance up with both hands with Tristan atop.

Launch.

Funguy roared and threw the lance with all his might. The lance rocketed forward in a curve parallel to the hull, the wind screaming around Tristan’s ears as he shot all the way up.

At the lance reached its apex, Tristan was unexpectedly taken aback with the view. He hadn’t had the chance to take a good look at his surroundings, even when he was running from Dennier on the balcony.

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Now, in this dragging moment, his eyes drank it all in. The sun was prominent in the clear sky, its rays turning the clouds into gold. In the distance, he saw floating islands peppering the horizon. The falling Serenity gave him the distinct feeling of being in an elevator, the world rapidly in motion around him.

Then, he saw Dennier and the wyrm atop the hull, Eila planted face-down by the beast’s foot.

Tristan kicked off the lance and thumped atop the ship. Due to reaching the maximum distance between him and Funguy, the Summon rubber-banded by his side, and the two ran forward before coming to a halt in front of Dennier.

“Let her go,” Tristan snarled, his heart thumping painfully hard. “Your business is with me. You don’t have to—”

With an almost casual motion, the wyrm lifted its foot off Eila. She scrambled to her feet, spinning around to look at the impassive Dennier, before running to Tristan.

“Tristan,” Eila breathed, her hair all strewn about by her flight up. She gripped him painfully on the arm. “Let’s take this bitch out together.”

Tristan smiled at her before returning his gaze to Dennier, who was staring at him. “Sorry, Eila. This one’s mine. Maybe the next pirate captain, huh?”

She frowned at him. “I’m not leaving you up here alone.”

“Too bad.” Tristan nodded to Funguy, and the Summon scooped up Eila, who yelled her protest, before jumping off the side of the ship.

He kept an eye on them through his connection with Funguy. He saw Eila’s furious face, then their landing cushioned by a group of waiting passengers who’d applied some sort of feather-falling cards.

Satisfied that she was safe, Tristan dismissed Funguy and returned his full attention to Dennier.

“Why’d you let her go?” he called out, walking towards her.

She shrugged. “I have a soft spot for fiery young women. I was one. ‘Course, had my plan gone accordingly, she’d be six feet deep in Zephyr’s gullet. But now?” She gestured around at the sky rapidly passing by as the Serenity continued its plunge. “What’s the point?”

Tristan nodded. “This ends now. One way or another.”

“So it does.”

Tristan took a deep breath and eyed his casts and Dennier’s.

He had only one more use of [Shadow Step] and [Backstep] left for his Support cards. No shields, no heals, no stuns, no buffs.

His Attacks were low too, notably with [Midnight Javelin] and [Nightmare Cleave] both gone. Dennier was worse off than him; she only had one cast of [Command: Burst] left for her Attacks, and one cast of a heal left.

Her head was exposed. His whole body was.

She was exhausted. He was injured.

It would come down to whoever landed their Attacks first.

In his mind’s eye, he saw the path. The sequence of events needed to achieve victory. It would be quick, only a handful of seconds.

The timing had to be perfect, he knew.

No, not perfect.

It needs to be Transcendent.

The wyrm—Zephyr, she’d called it—suddenly reared up and buffeted its wings, making him scramble backwards. He braced himself against the wind but was thrown off his feet. Tumbling, he nearly fell off entirely if he hadn’t managed to get a hold of the massive fin rising from the back of the ship with both hands.

He pulled himself to his feet as Zephyr charged its [Wind Breath]. He ran towards the monster, not away from it, prompting a look of surprise from Dennier.

Tristan pulled [Shadow Step] and in his right and [Backstep] in the other.

Zephyr unleashed its breath as Tristan curve-cast [Shadow Step] high in the air. He dropped to the ground and cast [Backstep], phasing through the hull out of the way of the breath. He fell through the interior hull of the Serenity, pulling a [Dark Kunai] in his hand before [Shadow Step] pulled him back through.

He popped out in the air beside Dennier. She turned to him, her last cast of [Command: Burst] in her hand.

He cast the second charge of [Shadow Step] behind her.

She somehow predicted him and spun, casting [Command: Burst] right as he appeared, catching him in the gut.

His [Dark Kunai]

, however, drilled right into her exposed head.

Before gravity asserted itself, before the pain in his wound, Tristan met Dennier’s eyes.

And saw admiration there.

He dropped painfully to the hull with a groan. Dennier slumped off Zephyr’s body a moment after.

You have defeated [Expert | High] cardbearer Dennier Safras.

You have acquired 160x. [Expert Perkshards].

The Summon, strangely, didn’t dissipate right away. Fear spiked his heart as the monster turned to him.

Then, it looked down at its fallen master. Nudged her unmoving body with its head.

Zephyr reared back and roared loud into the air. A sorrowful, haunting noise that sent goosebumps down Tristan’s body.

Even as the monster faded, its roar remained.

Dennier’s [Binder] appeared beside her body. Tristan painfully got to his feet, his hand pressed tight against his gushing wound. Limped over to the pirate’s body and absorbed her cards. He took off of her jacket too, converting it into an [Equipment Card] and adding that to his [Binder].

He stood there a moment, swaying on his feet. His blood dripped down onto Dennier’s smiling face, her eyes staring upwards.

“It was fun,” Tristan murmured.

He limped over to the edge of the ship. He couldn’t think properly. He tried to activate {Darklink}.

You have no more available casts of this [Perk].

He blinked away the message and came to the edge. Down below, he saw the Scapegoat.

Oh, good, Tristan thought, before blacking out and falling.

—🃁—

Eila watched in horror as Tristan fell. The Scapegoat was getting ready to detach, the ocean rushing up dangerously close beneath them.

“Someone, please!” Eila shouted, helplessness overwhelming her. “Tristan, he’s—”

“Move,” a familiar voice snapped. She turned and saw Junner beside her, one arm against the open door, the other holding a card out in his hand.

“I need Support!” Junner yelled. “Strengthening, accuracy, and speed!”

Within the span of a few seconds, Junner’s deck glowed as bright as the sun, lit up with a myriad of colors. He narrowed his eyes, tracked Tristan’s falling body with his card. Eila watched him, heart in the throat. Behind Junner were the gathered group of the former hostages, minus a few in the flight room helping the young man, Kellin. There was also a young pirate boy here, Albas, who sat huddled against the far wall with a frightened, dazed look in his eyes.

Then, Junner cast. Empowered by all the buffs, the card blasted forward.

Eila watched it go with bated breath.

It tagged Tristan on the chest.

Junner spun about and cast another card at the floor of this small boarding room. A mark formed of Chaos energy glowed.

And out popped Tristan.

“Hell of a shot,” Junner muttered to himself.

Eila ran to Tristan, who was unconscious and bleeding profusely from a wound in his stomach. Before she could ask for heals—she was all out of her casts—cards flew down towards Tristan from the gathered. Multi-colored light blazed from him, suffusing his body so bright Eila had to briefly close her eyes.

When she opened them, she saw him looking up at her with a slight smile on his face.

“Next time,” he murmured, “let’s buy the flight insurance.”

Eila slapped him on the arm before burying her head in his chest and sobbing.