The girls were still screaming when the world changed.
One moment the deck was tilting hard under their feet, black water pouring across the planks, the broken ship going down by the bow. The next moment solid metal existed beneath them instead of splintering wood. Lights flickered on in a clean white ceiling. The air was dry and cool. The violent motion of the sea simply stopped.
Aya’s scream cut off mid-breath. Lira’s hands were still locked around Renji’s arm hard enough to bruise. Both of them stared around the sudden room in pure shock—smooth bulkheads, soft recessed lighting, a wide observation window along one wall, and the heavy, steady hum of something massive and alive around them.
Renji walked to the window.
Outside was black ocean. Not the surface. Deep water. Shafts of faint light from above filtered down through the gloom, and the silhouette of the sinking merchant vessel was already disappearing above them like a broken toy.
Aya found her voice first.
“What… did you do?”
Renji kept looking out at the dark water.
“Created a submarine.”
Lira’s wings twitched hard under her cloak.
“A… what?”
“Big metal thing that travels underwater. Quiet. Self-contained. Better than anything the humans on the other side of the sea ever built.” He glanced back at them, still calm despite the gray cast starting to settle under his eyes. “AI controller included.”
He turned his head slightly and spoke to the empty air.
“Fairies.”
A smooth, neutral feminine voice answered from the walls themselves.
“Yes, master.”
Aya and Lira both flinched.
Renji continued like this was normal.
“Plot a course to the Elven kingdom. Surface approach. Stop at the shore when we arrive.”
“Understood, master. Calculating optimal route. Estimated travel time: fourteen hours at current safe speed.”
Renji nodded once.
Then the mana drain hit him like a hammer.
His knees buckled. The room tilted sideways. He felt Aya’s hands catch him before the floor could, thick arms wrapping under his shoulders as the last of the creation cost tore through his reserves. Everything went gray, then black.
He woke to the feeling of soft, warm weight across his body.
Thick thighs. Aya’s. She was sitting against the bulkhead with his head in her lap, fingers absently stroking through his hair. Lira sat on his other side, knees drawn up, bare wings folded tightly against her back. Both of them were naked. Their clothes were folded neatly on a low metal bench nearby, still damp from the sea.
Renji opened his eyes fully and looked at them for a long moment.
Aya’s heavy tits, the soft roll of her stomach, the way her thick thighs cradled his head. Lira’s slim body, pale and unmarked, transparent wings catching the soft cabin light. Both close enough to touch. Both already his in different ways.
{Tempting. Extremely tempting. Body still feels like someone replaced my bones with wet paper, though. Rain check.}
He sat up slowly. Aya’s hand stayed on his shoulder until she was sure he wouldn’t fall over again.
“You collapsed,” she said. “Scared the shit out of both of us.”
“Mana cost. Creating an entire submarine from nothing is apparently expensive.” He looked around the cabin properly for the first time. Clean. Functional. Larger than it had any right to be. “Fairies. Status.”
The AI’s voice returned, still perfectly even.
“Hull integrity optimal. Depth: two hundred and forty meters. Distance to nearest Elven shoreline: one hundred and ninety-three kilometers. Current oxygen reserves: eleven percent and falling. Atmospheric scrubbers were not included in original construction parameters.”
Aya’s head snapped toward the ceiling.
“We’re running out of air?”
Renji was already on his feet. He walked to the center of the cabin, closed his eyes for a second, and reached for Reverse Void again. The new skill answered more easily this time—still costly, but no longer catastrophic. Mana gathered, shaped, and settled.
A low, wide unit formed against one bulkhead: a broad intake grille on the outer side, a set of quiet fans, and a soft blue conversion field that pulled dissolved mana from the seawater and turned it into breathable air. Fresh oxygen began cycling into the cabin within seconds.
“Oxygen production online,” Fairies reported. “Atmospheric levels stabilizing.”
Lira stared at the new device, then at Renji, then at the device again. Aya simply shook her head once, the same resigned almost-smile she wore whenever he did something ridiculous without warning.
Renji dropped into the chair in front of the narrow radar console that had come with the rest of the submarine. A clean green display showed the ocean floor, scattered debris from the sunken ship, and the long empty stretch of water between them and the distant continental shelf.
“Fairies. Display projected route.”
A glowing line appeared across the screen, arcing west-northwest toward the Elven coast.
“We’re still underwater,” he said, mostly to himself. “Far from land, but not lost.” He glanced back at the two naked girls sitting close together on the bed. “Get some rest while you can. Once we surface and hit the shore, things get interesting again.”
Aya pulled a thin blanket over herself and Lira without comment. The fairy curled slightly toward her, still looking overwhelmed, but no longer terrified.
Renji turned back to the radar and watched the slow progress of their position along the projected line.
The submarine hummed around them—real, solid, and entirely his. Reverse Void sat in the back of his mind like a loaded weapon that could build almost anything he could clearly picture. The possibilities were so large they almost felt unreal.
He leaned back in the chair, eyes on the green display, and let the quiet of the deep ocean settle in.
Elven land was still ahead.
Everything else could wait until they reached the shore.
Or most things could wait because...
He had a particular disease of both body and mind...
He,was a horn dog