"So, you're the Oregon who's the mystery ship we heard about, and the one who played the guitar at the music festival. The name sounds...familiar to me, somehow."
"Well, in my world we knew each other pretty well back in the late 1890s and early 1900s. Perhaps some of those memories carried over."
Mikasa sipped her tea. "Interesting. Before we heard about you I thought I would never see any ship from my time period ever again."
Oregon chuckled, but there was little humor behind it. "This body doesn't show it, but I beat even you by a few years. Launched in 1893, while I believe you were '96."
"That would make you older than even me....And Saratoga keeps saying she's the old lady. You certainly have her beat, heh heh." Mikasa was more amused than anything at hearing Oregon's age.
"So, what's it like being in both a similar and dissimilar world?" she continued.
"Aside from feeling---no, scratch that--- knowing that I'm almost completely useless? My best answer would be neutralish."
Mikasa couldn't help but shudder internally at the brief but chilling expression that crossed Oregon's face, but fought it down. "Neutral, hm? How so?"
"I'll get the one advantage over with first: I've been given a second chance. Only God knows how many 'second chances' I've been given over the decades. I'm still not sure whether I deserve this or not, nor whether I can use it to the best of my abilities."
Oregon's expression became sad. "Now we get to the downsides as I see them. And boy do I see many.
"First off, in my old world I was finished. Beached. Washed up. Whatever these kids say nowadays. I was convinced that my life, long as it was, was for almost nothing. I'm helpless as I'm physically shattered to pieces, thanks to a tsunami. Then I wake up in this world and one of the first things I'm asked when I meet friendly people is to help them fight their wars. To say the least, I wasn't and still am not quite happy about that."
"Too hasty for help, huh? I know what that's like."
"There's more."
"No..."
"I've been here for quite a few months now but I feel like I'm only a burden to everyone. I'm never really interested in what the others do, I can comfortably talk with only a few shipgirls here, and my negativity affects everyone around me. Surely you've felt it already."
"I'd be lying if I said I didn't."
"I may not look old to the outside world, but deep down I'm starting to feel it. Even with a retrofit (if you could call it that) I received recently, I cannot escape the early pangs of age. Buried, barely noticeable pains. My guns not being as accurate at they used to be. The few times I've been hurt on this base felt more severe than they were."
Oregon's voice quivered. "I am old, Mikasa. And there's nothing I can do about it."
He was silent for some moments, holding his head in his hands. "Not to mention the nightmares."
"'Nightmares?'"
"They're like theoreticals. What-ifs. They tend to focus on my painful journey around South America and everything that could have possibly gone wrong. The voice of these possibilities has become problematic enough that I wonder if I'm becoming schizophrenic."
As if to confirm his suspicion a harsh, staticky voice not unlike his own filled Oregon's mind, and his vision momentarily became blurred and glitchy.
"U̸̢͚̱͕͌̑s̵̙̥̏ę̷̍̈́̒͑l̵̈́e̷̖̳̹̾̑s̷̙̻̲͈̹̲͆̎͘s̸̬̜͗͗.̷̞͎̔͂̌̿̌͘.̵̱͎̪̈͋̾.̶̺̣̩̝͒̋̈́͛͠"
Oregon couldn't see it, but Mikasa saw his face glitch and quiver, and his expression was temporarily replaced by a pale face with black, soulless eyes shedding bloody tears and a stitched-shut mouth.
And then his face returned to normal as if nothing had happened at all.
"...Well, that answers that."
"Dear God..." Mikasa's own growing fears were now added to those which she had been told about earlier. Or as Wales had put it, "warned".
"You saw that then, huh?"
"Y-yeah, I d-did."
"Guess I really must be losing my mind. Spending almost 20 years unable to focus on anything but your life failures can do that to a person, I guess."
"How on earth have you remained sane? Anyone else would have gone mad after only a short while of this."
"I don't know, Mikasa. I guess I'm not just anyone. That or my near-void of emotional capability has lessened the effects."
Oregon went silent once again, then continued. "You were lucky you were humanized while you were still actively cared for. I was dead when I was revived. Then again most of the others here were already long scrapped or sunk, and they seem perfectly fine to me. Maybe because I met an unconventional end I ended up this way."
An enormous explosion rocked the base, followed by more. Air raid sirens began desperately wailing.
"Speaking of getting old..." Oregon groaned as he stood up. "Guess the Sirens finally decided to attack."
Outside the cafe they had been at, Siren aircraft raced across the sky, closely followed by carrier interceptors of various nations, all leaving bright white contrails in the cold air.
Beyond the port harbor, a naval battle was already in progress. A serious one.
"Mikasa, go find your friends. I'm going to help fight."
Summoning his rigging, Oregon jumped onto the ocean and began to stiffly skate toward the battle.
As he approached, the battle seemed to get only fiercer. Oregon began to doubt if this was a good idea after all.
That changed when he saw an all-too-familiar black and yellow cowboy hat fly past him. It was burning.
"No...they didn't..." A deep fire ignited in Oregon's mind. The water splashing onto his riggings began to sizzle and boil. Black, ember-infused smoke poured from his dual funnels.
His face began to shudder and glitch, this time an expression of a crazy smile with glaring black void eyes appearing. The voice of his schizophrenia spoke again.
Y̶̘͛̓̈́̕͝e̴̜͗s̴͍̼̩̲̯̃͊!̶̢̯̃̂̅ ̵͈̌Ȇ̷͎̰̙̫̤̇̀̃͠ṁ̵̨͑̑b̵̮͚̟̼̈́̋̐̍r̸̲̂͆̀ͅạ̶̀̉̈́̉͘ç̵̼̩̥̜̈́̀ê̷̢̠̹̞͖ ̶̻́̀͝ẙ̵̡͈͈͉͠o̶͉̘͖̞͚͌̌͝ų̶͚̝̆̒r̷͖̲͠ ̵̗̼̩̥͗̾̎͝ầ̶̡̛n̸̜̫̣̉̄͋g̸̩̼͑͋̆̍̐ê̸̯̰̝̻̓͛̓ř̷̛͖̯̝̳͎́́͗!̸̥̞̈͆̔̀ ̶͔̿̇̈́͝͝S̸̹̘̠̈h̶̜̆ô̷͉͓͉̼ͅw̵͖͇̟̟͌͊͝ ̸̣͂̕t̶̗̩̮̯͗h̵͇̭̲͊̂͠e̴̙̜̐͆̂̍m̸̛̤̫͈̮̃̿͗ ̸̡̨̟͍͕̃͂̈́̚̕ẇ̵̡͇͐̑̂ͅͅĥ̴̡͈̼̞a̴̝͚͎̗̓̄̔̽͝t̸̛̪̓̿̎̂ ̸͎͎̲̟̳̄y̶̹͋̚o̶̞͐ǔ̸̼͛͛'̵̡̝̹̼̒̀͊̄̚r̶͙̞̮̥̐͂̃͛͛e̶͎̋̈́ͅ ̷̮̤̬͎̏̀̚͜t̸̘͓͉͓̳̆̾̀͊r̷̩̬̯̺̥̋u̷̫̹͇̖̖̾̏̍́l̷̝͍̣̑͆̔̿͝y̴̪͌ ̴̛̝͎͒͆͝c̸̛̖͔̽̆͝á̸̤̋́͒p̸̠̤̺͔̱͐͂͠a̷̱̮̖͋̔b̵̤̱̟̖͙̅̒͛l̸̼̣̾͆̓̑̆e̸͍̮̩̗̺͋̔ ̵̼̔͑̔͘o̵̡͕̗̤̽̆̔̆ḟ̷͚̽͝ ̷̯̼͓̟̊̅̌͊̕͜w̴͍͂̑̅͛h̵͕͔̾̆̈e̴͎͖̋n̴̛͔̎̂ ̸̝́ͅa̵̦̦̟͆n̵̰̱̙̤̩̊g̸͙͌̎r̴̟̣͍͖͊͊y̶̖̮̻̎̃!̸̛̥̦͈̣̝̄͑͝ ̸̙͙̼̮̎͛͊̓͜
"You." His fiery, glitchy gaze settled on an elite Siren. She held an unconscious and badly injured Hornet in one of her arms.
Meanwhile...
Purifier gloated over her "victory".
"Ahahaha! Not only have we recovered the Black Mental Cube, but I have personally dispatched a sister of the fabled Grey Ghost!"
The Azur Lane ships, all exhausted and heavily damaged, could only look on in shock and fear at the sight before them.
"Hmm, yes...she shall be a worthy test subject." Purifier turned to leave. "Farewell, Azur Lane! Until our next and final meeting!"
Four simultaneous deep booms rattled everyone. Four large shells, superheated to a glowing red, roared across the water and struck Purifier in her back.
"Owwww!" Purifier wailed, dropping Hornet's body. "Which one of you dares to-"
She caught sight of the culprit. "Who are you, that would stand against me?! Do you have the slightest idea who you're dealing with?!"
The figure lifted their head, and two glowing eyes, one orange, one blue and yellow, stared back at her. An anger- and hate-filled voice spoke in reply.
"P̴̮͒r̵͙̃ẹ̴͝ć̶͔ĭ̶̖s̵̳̍e̶̩͌ḽ̷̀y̵̤͒.̴̜͗ ̴̩̚A̵̝͘ ̶̺̒t̶̻͑ỏ̵̢t̵̘͝a̶͙͛ḻ̵͝ ̷̜̈́į̷̅d̶͖̒i̷̟̒ö̵̲́t̴̼͝.̶͔̚ ̸̍ͅT̵̩́h̷̛̻e̵̗͝ ̶̠̓b̸̜͝i̵̩͑g̸̝̎ǵ̸̪ȩ̷̽r̶̤̈ ̵̗̓q̸͉́u̴̻̓e̸̱͝s̵͍̚t̸̗̔i̷͖͝ŏ̴̰n̷͔̐ ̷͕̾i̴̜͌s̸͕͌ ̷͊͜d̷̻̀ơ̸͙ ̸̡͂ÿ̵̞o̶͓̊u̸͒ͅ ̶̺̄k̶̰̒n̶̛̩o̵͚̐w̵̲͂ ̴͈̏ẇ̶͕h̸͓̕o̸͖͛ ̴̦͊y̷̛͓ȏ̴̗u̷̠̅'̵͑͜ř̷̡ë̸͎ ̶͕͒d̴̳͝e̴̛̮ǎ̶̦l̸͔̈́ĩ̵̩ǹ̸̥g̴̬̈́ ̵̯̿w̶̥̔ì̸̱ṭ̸͠h̸̖̿?̵̧̅"
Everyone's vision blacked out, but only for an instant. Purifier saw that the figure had vanished.
"Where'd they go?!"
"Right behind you."
A gunshot blasted. Purifier's head exploded and her body fell to the ground, revealing the smoking mouth of a now-bloodied shotgun barrel, and the person who wielded it.
Oregon racked his Trench Gun, ejecting the still-smoking shell, which disappeared in a tiny sparkle of cubes.
All the other ships stared at Oregon, with looks varying from wonder to winces to downright fear.
"What? It was obvious! She's a Siren spy!"
With that, the fire in his eyes and his body seemed to die, as he suddenly keeled forward before managing to regain his balance. He was sweating heavily and was severely exhausted.
"So...thirsty..." His insides felt hot and dry, a sign he must have nearly exhausted his water supply. "Water..."
At this point Hornet woke up from her unconsciousness. Oregon noticed her moving and stumbled over to help.
She was barely able to see but still managed to recognize the person helping her sit up. "O-Oregon?"
Oregon chuckled, but this time there was a slight hint of genuine warmth to it. "Heh. Saved your life again. Now that's two you owe me."
Despite his own bodily weakness he succeeded in picking her up and resting her on his two main turrets, both still quite warm. He had to summon his rifle and use both it and his shotgun as canes to simultaneously support her weight and give himself something to lean on.
"C'mon. Let's get you home before I pass out."
The other shipgirls were helping each other up and a few approached Oregon cautiously.
Noticing their hesitancy, he addressed them, hoping to quell any fears they might have.
"Don't worry, she'll be fine, she just needs some good medical attention and rest. Also...I'm sorry you had to see me like that. I was not myself."
Taking Hornet into his arms, he summoned his full ship and told everyone to get on, as he'd let them all ride back to shore. Naturally they all accepted as none were in any real condition to bear the distance.
Back on shore those who stayed behind were anxiously awaiting the return of the fighters. Mikasa had warned Wales that Oregon had gone out to fight not long after he left her.
They all saw the pre-dreadnought slowly steam into the harbor and it didn't seem damaged at all.
As it docked next to a pier everyone saw the extent to which their friends had been injured. Oregon himself carried Hornet down the gangplank, where he was met by a very concerned Enterprise and Yorktown.
They hadn't been able to go join the battle as they, most of their fellow carriers, and other ships equipped for anti-air were occupied with preventing Siren aircraft from wreaking havoc on the base. They were overall successful, as the base was only minorly damaged.
"Hornet!" They cried when they saw the state of their little sister.
"Don't worry, she's alright," Oregon said, his voice raspy and hoarse.
"Thank you for saving our little sister...again." The pair said sheepishly. Meanwhile Hornet looked both embarrassed and slightly ashamed.
"Eh, don't worry about it. I mean it. Saving lives is why I'm here, I guess."
Enty offered to relieve Oregon of carrying Hornet, to which he agreed.
"I'll swing by to see how she is later, alright?"
"Yeah, and thanks again."
Oregon coughed, covering his mouth with one hand. "Please, there's no need to keep thanking me. Not like I deserve it anyway..."
The group of shipgirls departed the pier, leaving Oregon alone.
As he stepped back onto his ship's foredeck he was suddenly seized by a sharp, dry pain all through his body and he collapsed.