Apocalypse Redux

Chapter 253: The Deep Blue Sea

Getting to Saint Helena was an absolute nightmare. It was one of the most isolated places on the planet, excluding the likes of R’lyeh or central Antarctica.

Andre managed to teleport him a few thousand kilometers in the right direction, and Li-Mei teleported him further, as close to the island as possible, but neither of them had ever been there.

Crossing the several thousand kilometers of ocean that separated him from his destination was no mean feat for even him. Well, he could do it, but hardly in a short enough time that his target would still be there. And if that ship had been easy to track, it wouldn’t have taken this long to get a sighting.

In the other timeline, a sighting like this would have indicated the presence of one specific vessel. The Flying Dutchman, the famous ghost ship risen from the grave, captained by one Davy Jones. Or rather, his [Heir]. One of the most elusive S-Rankers in existence, and one in possession of far more power than one would expect from a hermit on a sailboat. Not that Isaac would ever call him that to his face, that would probably get him murdered.

Now there were only two things left to do. Reach the boat … and pray he was dealing with the same person once again.

So, finding the target. He was fast, but not fast enough to get there in time. So he had to get ahead of them, somehow.

That was where [The Meaning of the Name] came in. He knew all about Jones from the other timeline, the [Blessing of Innovation] allowed him to draw upon [Skills] that let him understand how currents flowed in the region and how they’d affect an underwater ship with the Dutchman’s specifications.

Even with a decent read on the captain and knowledge of likely directions, he didn’t know the vessel’s target and had to play on the probabilities.

So the plan was as simple as it was complex. Swim as quickly as he could, [Continent Strider] enhancing his travel speed exponentially over time, and make sure to cover the best points to teleport back to if he found out that the initial route had been the wrong one.

He cut through the water like a shark, speed ever-growing, and reached the first possible location, an underwater current that would have carried the ship all the way to Australia. Nothing there.

While underwater, Isaac had canceled his normal [Aura] cloak, instead throwing out a thin wedge that he projected as far away from her as possible and swept around himself like an old-school sonar. Plenty of fish, the odd shipwreck, and even a treasure chest whose location Isaac mentally took note of, but no Flying Dutchman.

In all likelihood, he’d missed his chance. The further the ship got from Saint Helena, the worse his predictions would get, and catching up a bloody ship while swimming was going to be a pain in the ass.

The next ocean current was on the other end of the island, and he reached it after hours of swimming. Once again, nothing.

He’d check out one final spot so he could teleport to it later, then head up to the island, and then head back to his assistants. And then, they’d get sent all over the world, visiting random isolated places so they could teleport him there later.

Next time, he’d be able to get there faster.

Suddenly, Isaac’s [Aura] brushed over something. A large mass of old wood, floating in the middle of the water. His [Aura] was too thin to give him high-resolution feedback, but that was the first possible contact he’d made since entering the water. His [Aura] ceased its endless sweep through the ocean and coalesced on that specific point.

An old ship, cutting through the ocean at speeds that would have been high for an airplane, let alone something traveling through a medium as dense as water.

His [Aura] began to flicker as he made it more noticeable, using the usual method of auric Morse. Hopefully, this would work.

And it did. The ship slowed slightly, allowing him to catch up.

“Permission to come aboard?” Isaac called out once he was close enough, the sound coming out garbled to hell and back due to him being underwater and the distances involved.

The [First Officer of Legends, Conqueror of the Depths] would like to teach you the Skill [Unrestricted Speech]. Would you like to learn this Skill?

Y/N

Obviously, Isaac accepted.

Unrestricted Speech (epic)

Communication is the very core of not only modern civilization, but any kind of community in general. Coordination is what allows any number of species to transcend the limitations of any one member, and part of the thing that has made humanity so dominant.

After all, no matter how clever any single human may be, true innovation can only happen by building upon the work of previous generations.

But even the more mundane uses of speech can make an immeasurable difference, facilitating trade and solving conflicts without violence.

This is a Skill that allows its users to manifest the greatest possible form of communication, irrespective of their surroundings or noise pollution.

As long as the user can survive in a given medium, it will carry their voice as far as air would under standard conditions (Earth, Sea Level, air temperature around twenty degrees centigrade), even in the hard vacuum of space.

In addition, when the user raises their voice in situations with significant amounts of environmental noise, their voice will still be clearly understandable, and the most prominent sound to anyone who cares to listen.

This Skill is always active unless deactivated.

That [Skill] might seem like a party trick to most people, but it was almost impossible to overstate the usefulness of proper communication. Being able to talk even in outer space, at least once he completed one of his undead Aspect stacks and gained the ability to survive out there, would be impossible without this ability.

Sure, most of the time, he could just communicate via the party, but his party [Skill] required him to be within a few meters of someone to add them. Great when he had the time to prepare, useless otherwise. He’d have to see if he could bribe the man to teach that particular trick to his allies. Arthur had something similar, most people in the military or police force also had a weaker version, but most people Isaac relied on didn’t.

“Permission to come aboard?” Isaac asked again, his voice ringing crystal clear through the ocean’s depths. All around him, fish exploded into motion, the sudden introduction of sound to the otherwise silent depths scaring the hell out of them.

“Declare your name,” came back a response, deep and authoritative.

“My name is Isaac Thoma, I’m here to talk to your captain,” Isaac responded, “I hold no ill will, and come bearing gifts.”

“Permission granted.”

Isaac swam over to the ship, struggling with the current until he was above the deck. The current suddenly stopped pulling at him, leaving him hanging in a bubble of serenity. And when he swam lower, the effects of being underwater were almost entirely removed, the weightlessness being replaced by a reassuring attachment to the planks underfoot, and the resistance of the liquid he was submerged in was almost completely removed.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Thoma,” a middle-aged man in an old-timey naval uniform greeted Isaac, “The Captain will see you in the Wardroom in a few minutes. Follow me, please.”

“You’re the one who taught me [Unrestricted Speech], aren’t you?” Isaac asked.

“Yes, Dr. Thoma,” the man nodded.

“If your captain is alright with it, would you be willing to teach it to some associates of mine?” Isaac asked, “With compensation, of course.”

“If the captain agrees,” the man nodded.

The ship’s wardroom was tiny, made of old yet surprisingly solid wood, as one would expect of a 17th-century sailing ship. There were plenty of ships on which a meeting like this would have taken place in the captain’s cabin for a lack of space.

Isaac’s guide, the ship’s first officer according to his [Class], slipped back outside while a young man entered in his stead, taking position next to the door. Clearly, leaving a stranger alone on the ship wasn’t in the cards.

It took a while for the captain to arrive, but Isaac didn’t begrudge him that. Captains tended to be stupidly busy, chances were that this wasn’t a power play.

After maybe half an hour, Davy Jones himself stepped through the door. He looked like a man in the prime of his life, long brown hair artfully woven and fell down the back of his hair, and a beard decorated with pearls and coral reached all the way down to his chest. The man’s skin, meanwhile, was pale, milky, almost see-through, reminiscent of a body that had been underwater for days, but lacking the usual grossness of such a sight. Somehow, it fit him.

“Good afternoon, captain,” Isaac began, “What should I call you?”

“I’m Captain Jones,” the captain of the depths announced, drawing a clear line between himself and his original identity, “And I’m curious what made you seek me out, Dr. Thoma.”

“I figured that getting to know the [Heir] of a mythical being was a good idea,” Isaac said.

“So you knew what the Dutchman was before coming here?” Jones asked.

“It was a scientific wild-ass guess,” Isaac said.

“And that is?”

“The kind of thing that would get you laughed out of the room if presented as a hypothesis, but is more grounded than a regular wild-ass guess,” Isaac shrugged, then pulled a large crate from his storage space, “I had this made in case for a potential expedition to the base of R’lyeh, but I think it could be useful to you. What I have here is a waterproof mana-to-electricity converter, alongside a full set of laptops, tablets, and phones rated for a pressure of up to two kilobars, as well as an antenna capable of transmitting cell signals through even eight kilometers of water.”

“The kind of pressure that would damage those phones doesn’t even exist at the bottom of the Mariana Trench,” Jones observed, “Just where were you expecting to take those?”

“Like I said, the bottom of R’lyeh,” Isaac said, “The engineering department loves building crazy stuff, but they need an excuse to spend the money. So when they get one, they tend to go a little crazy.”

“Ah yes, the engineers,” Jones laughed, turning to the young man by the door, “What was it that Greene wanted to rig up? Demon-blood-based depth charges with directional force projection via magic that we can safely detonate right next to the hull?”

“I believe the intention was to make it safe to blow them even on deck, as an anti-boarder weapon, Captain.”

“Ah yes, that,” Jones nodded, then turned back to Isaac, “This is an extremely generous gift, thank you. But you don’t expect me to believe that this is just a random meeting, do you? Finding this vessel was no mean feat, you were quite thorough in your search.”

So Jones had been aware of him for a long time, Isaac noted. That localized omniscience was probably limited to the water, but when you spent all your time at the bottom of the ocean, those limitations were just fine.

“How aware are you of the current world situation?” Isaac asked in lieu of answering.

“It’s constantly changing, chaotic in general, and there’s a bunch of lunatics trying to end the world,” Jones summarized.

“And you’ve become an extremely powerful person, capable of affecting change on a global scale if you decided to involve yourself in politics,” Isaac added.

“So that’s what you’re looking for?” Jones asked, voice growing cold.

“I wouldn’t blame anyone for wanting to avoid that nest of vipers. I’d be somewhere in the middle of nowhere, fighting whatever monster I wanted to fight, if I could.” Isaac said, “What I’m looking for is general support to keep the planet spinning. Your first officer is capable of teaching a useful communication [Skill], I’d be willing to pay quite a lot if he’d teach a few of my associates.

“Also, while it hasn’t been a serious problem so far, aquatic monsters spreading freely in the ocean could become very dangerous, very quickly. I’d ask you to keep an eye out.”

The reason that issue hadn’t reached apocalyptic levels of danger was simple. Monsters were stupidly aggressive and went right after any nearby humans and when ships went down in the modern world, that tended to raise alarms. When the rescue crew ran into a monster swarm, the cavalry would get called in and that would be the end of it.

“We already do that,” Jones said, “No one benefits from a planet overrun by monsters.”

“Thank you,” Isaac said, “But considering how quickly a situation like that could spiral, I was wondering if it were possible for you to perhaps plot your routes to maximize the area scanned by your sensory [Skill]? It would obviously not be the ideal course for searching for wrecks, but I’d make sure you wouldn’t lose out.”

“What do you know about our searches?” Jones asked.

“Your previous [Classes] were some relation of [Historian],” Isaac announced, “You’re capable of turning the weight of history that rests upon an object into real, actual, power. This vessel we’re traveling on, for example? It was created from the wrecks of countless other ships, built in the shape of the mythical Flying Dutchman to draw upon its legend.

“Cannons from the Spanish Armada, representing the mightiest fleet of its time, armor from a pre-dreadnought from Battle of Jutland, a ship of the line that dominated naval war far for the prior century, who else knows what kind of treasures can be found on the ocean floor? Not to mention there are countless historical artifacts of, well, historical value lying around, just waiting to be found.”

“When did you figure that out?” Jones asked.

“I suspected a while ago when I first heard rumors of a ghost ship traveling the ocean. But seeing the ship confirmed it. Unless I’m severely mistaken, your sails were woven around the few strips of the Armada’s sails that survived all these centuries,” Isaac supposed.

“You have a good eye,” Jones said.

“Good guess,” Isaac shrugged. In reality, he’d known that from the other timeline, and taken a cursory look over the sails to confirm that it was also the case here.

“I see,” Jones said, “We’ll have to work out a proper agreement, but an oceanic patrol of areas without shipping or naval patrols is definitely something we can do.”

“And one last thing,” Isaac said, “Could you please be on the lookout for underwater settlements? As you know, we’ve got a bit of a cult problem topside, and there is a lot of space down here that’s barely observed.”

“Wait, ‘cough’, you’re looking for an underwater base?” Jones asked, doing a spectacular job of suppressing a laugh, “Are these people Bond villains?”

“Hardly,” Isaac said, “Living a few hundred or even a thousand meters underwater takes just a single Aspect. Sure, adapting technology for underwater use is a pain, but the privacy offered should more than make up for it.”

“If we find something, we’ll make sure to call in help or take care of the problem ourselves,” Jones responded.

“Thank you.”

After another hour of hammering out the particulars, Isaac withdrew another object from his storage space.

“This is a cutlass that used to be wielded by one Edward Teach, better known as Blackbeard. I believe it could do great things in the right hands. Yours,” Isaac offered.

“Where on Earth did you get this?” Jones asked.

“I mostly use my teaching abilities to help my allies, but occasionally, I trade them for material support from people who don’t have any particularly bad skeletons in their closet,” Isaac responded, “I figured that sword might come in useful some time.”

For the first time since the conversation had started, Jones was struck dumb, he merely reverently picked up the sword and stared at it.

“Also, we’ve recently figured out how to place healing potions into what basically amounts to jelly beans that are larger on the inside. They’d be perfect for underwater use, don’t you think?” Isaac offered and when Jones nodded, added, “I’ll make sure to add a few jars to the next supply drop. Now, I’m afraid I have to take my leave, captain. Good day to you, sir.”

Jones bade him goodbye as well, told Isaac where they’d pick up supplies next and promised that his first officer would be available for teaching.

Once back at the university, Isaac arranged for the supply drop and then went back to planning the first Tier 8 [Raid Boss] kill. This time, South Korea had beaten Germany to the punch in upgrading their arena more quickly and Isaac had decided that stressing out over who got the first kill was a waste of energy in this case.

He was working with Yoo-jin on the planning, things would go just as smoothly in Korea as they would in Germany and Isaac was no patriot. Working in the nation of his birth had been a matter of convenience, nothing more.