The wind snapped against the masts hanging over their heads. Sailors sprinted up and down the deck with movements far more efficient than most. All so they could save the slightest bit of time their occupation demanded of them. Cannons thundered one after another, rolling back several paces on the groaning wooden boards before being pushed back into position.

On the quarterdeck stood the watchmen, witnessing the battle unfold in a chaotic match of blood and glory. The ship resisted the waves slamming onto its side while maintaining its course. With each second, they drew closer and closer to the coast of Alexandria. And the Empire was well aware of their presence.

Tucker steadied his breath. There was a time when life seemed so simple. When a good man could be kind and continue to move on with his life, yet the world wouldn't allow it. In his heart, there was a hatred, a darkness that wished for nothing more than the Empire to fall. He tightened the straps of the black iron gauntlets and fixed his gaze on the coastal city.

Each wave grew fiercer, hammering relentlessly against the fleet as scorching spheres of flame raining down upon them. He glanced over at the Captain, whose voice refused to yield to the songs of battle. Drums struck rhythmic beats, delivering signals Tucker couldn't understand.

"We'll be crossing the threshold soon," Alex quietly said.

"Once we begin the dive—there's no turning back." Tucker locked eyes with Ray and Alex, feeling the saltwater splash against his armor. "If you guys want to back out, this is your last chance."

"Stop trying to get rid of us. If I wanted to run, I wouldn't be on the ship," Ray said with a grin.

"Well said, lad." Alex patted Ray's shoulder before shifting his attention to the ongoing battle. "Only a few more minutes before we reach the drop-off point."

Tucker followed his gaze. "We'll stay close and traverse the ocean floor. Keep the plan simple. Once we get past the port gate, that's where things will get dicey."

"Is there anything in the water we should know of?" Ray asked.

"Not that we know of," Tucker replied. "Most of the wildlife has left the area because of the constant bombardments. I'd be damned if there's still something down there."

"Let's not jinx it. Nothing is more terrifying than something in the darkness staring back." Alex smirked before walking towards the starboard side.

"What the…" Ray stared at Alex with a dumbfounded expression. "He's joking, right? There's nothing in the dark that's going to stare back at us, right?"

"Don't worry so much, Ray." Tucker followed behind Alex as the ship swayed with the waves. His fingers brushed against the cold iron of his helm, feeling the faint hum of the enhancements within. "It's a long way down; our helms will only allow for an hour of air at most."

"An hour will be plenty of time," Alex said in a stern voice. "I trust you know what to do, Ray?"

Ray gave a firm nod. "Yeah, once we reach the gates, you can leave it to me."

The three of them stood at the stern of the ship as it violently jolted from the spells that collided into the translucent barriers protecting the masts. Each shot sent tremors throughout the deck, rocking their bodies as they each grabbed onto the wooden railing for support. Tucker stood at the center, watching as the ships around them shielded their vessel with their hulls.

"Hold steady!" the shipmaster shouted as his voice was drowned out by another deafening blast. The floor lurched, slamming one of the soldiers against the bulkhead. Yet none of them wavered, fulfilling their duties one after another.

Tucker felt an odd sense of calmness amid the chaos. Around him, his comrades were the same. Alex was silently staring at the dark water crashing against the wooden boards. While Ray burned the sight of the battlefield into his heart. The ship screamed beneath the strain of another impact, with wood splintering and flames blooming across the deck. In the air was the smell of salt, gunpowder, and fear. But to the watchmen, this was just another day, another mission.

He looked at his team. "Remember, the current will drag us straight beneath the fleet. Trust your gear, trust your runes." Tucker pulled on his helm, the locks sealing tight with a hiss of air.

Another explosion rocked the ship as Alex and Ray followed Tucker's lead. Water rained down upon them as someone cursed beneath the flickering lanterns. The screaming voices rang heavily in their ears until a long, mournful call of a horn overpowered the torment.

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Alex looked at the captain before turning to Tucker. "That's the signal!" he shouted over the noise. "It's time!"

The world dimmed around Tucker, his breathing echoing softly inside the owl-shaped mask. He looked at his team; their eyes were set ablaze with determination through the visor slits.

"On my mark!" he bellowed as the ship's frame cracked around them.

The sailors lowered the drawbridge on the starboard side, allowing the watchmen to get closer to the ocean's surface. Each wave rose higher and higher, aiming to pull the ship under. The hiss of rising water and hellfire that rained above their heads painted a future of destruction. One that could only be overturned by their actions.

Tucker leapt first, diving into the dark abyss below. Then came Ray and finally Alex. All of them vanished beneath the surface in an instant, with the sound of water running past their ears as they sank further into the darkness. The faint shimmer of their runes was like stars in the night sky, and soon only silence engulfed them.

Each grueling second felt like their lungs were being held in place. The icy spring water slammed into Tucker, stealing his breath and numbing his limbs. For a moment, it was as if death had taken hold of him until the muffled thunder of battle fading into the distance brought him back to reality. His eyes scanned the area. The cold light from his armor's runes rippled outwards as his feet touched the bottom of the ocean floor. Alex and Ray nodded, signalling that they were ready.

They entered formation with Tucker taking the lead, Ray in the middle, and Alex covering the flank. Their ghostly figures were surrounded by silver bubbles. The moonlight and flames broke into thousands of rays, barely reaching them as they swam through the shadows.

The watchmen slowly made their way towards the coastal city, kicking up small clouds of sand as they moved with haste. Their cover from the Everheart fleet would only last about twenty more minutes before they retreated to safety. Any more would jeopardize the navy's fighting capabilities as the damage would reach a point of no return. They moved with haste, covering as much ground as possible.

Once the battle between the fleets stopped, the odds of mages detecting them would increase because of their mana sensitivity. The lingering mana from their runes would become a beacon, guiding their foes directly to them. Tucker kept his eyes forward, trusting that Ray and Alex were close behind. One small mistake could throw them off course.

He could sense that Gale was circling the coastline, trying to guide him to the iron port gates with the least amount of foes. Yet with each step, the task became more and more difficult. The sheer physical demand from the armor was beyond anything he had ever imagined. It felt as if chains were shackled to his limbs, fighting back with each movement.

His arms and legs burned in agony, and the once soft breathing grew heavier by the second. They had crossed over several hundred meters underwater, and soon, they would be at the gates. Yet in the darkness of the ocean, a chill crept down his spine. Tucker kept his gaze focused on the iron bars before them, stepping closer onto the pale sand. Each step sank slightly before pushing them upward.

His heartbeat echoed in the silent world. Every movement sent swirls of sand into the abyss with the current shifting as if something was watching from afar. The men were moving in a staggered line towards the gate. Ray grabbed onto a half-buried boulder and pulled himself higher, while Alex planted his boots firmly on the grains of sand and pushed through the currents with practiced ease.

As they drew closer to the coastal city's walls, the quieter everything became.

Tucker stopped and raised one arm, pointing to the sky with his palm facing forward. In an instant, Ray and Alex stopped moving as their steps softened. The next moment, Tucker pointed two fingers at his eyes and then to the gate.

After his time in the bastion, Tucker had learned two things. One was that his senses with Gale were strictly linked together. By closing his eyes and falling into a near trancelike state, he could see the world through Gale's eyes. At first, it was nauseating, but with practice, it became a practical tool in their arsenal.

Tucker closed his eyes as the world around him faded. He could feel and hear the wind blowing in his ears. The smell of smoke and ash lingered in the air. From above, Gale was scouting the outer walls. Calmly observing the enemy soldiers sprint down the stone paths. There was no one guarding the sea gate in front of them. The Everheart army and navy had drawn the Empire's forces away from their location, and now was the time for them to move.

He opened his eyes and glanced back at Ray before tightening his fist. Then, with one clean motion, Tucker drove it into the iron bars, testing them all at once. Ray answered with a firm nod, stepping forward as swirls of sand gathered at his feet. He dropped to one knee beside the iron barrier, his trembling fingers reached for the obsidian dagger attached to his belt. A thin veil of aura shimmered along the blade's edge. Ray began his work, swiftly cutting through the bars with precise strikes. He carved through them one by one, as if it were soft clay.

The men watched the iron rods clatter against the grains of pale sand. Under normal circumstances, cutting solid metal would require a strong influx of aura. But thanks to Ray's gift, that wasn't the case. Out of all the properties he'd manifested, this one made his blades impossibly sharp for the amount of aura needed.

Far sharper than any watchman had a right to wield.

As the last iron bar fell, Ray gave one final nod before stepping aside. The three watchmen focused on the opening made in the iron bars. Their eyes focused on what awaited them within the Empire's city. In a situation where fear should have held onto Tucker's heart, a sense of confidence took hold. He glanced at his teammates, who stood by his side. All of them shared the same sentiment, and whatever awaited them in Alexandria, they would face it together.

With a single unified step, the watchmen crossed the threshold and entered the port of Alexandria.

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