The sun climbed within view as EMS Valakula headed towards land at full sail. Dea gazed out at the ocean, shimmering orange to match the colors of the sky. She had retracted the viewport of the Flamingo, and the gusty wind now smacked her face. In the horizon, the clouds still persisted—puffs of grey that dimmed the sunrise.

The safe dock was apparently thirty kilometers south of the mangrove forest she ventured to a month ago. The urgency that hung over her stirred a sense of déjà vu, but she knew that what lay ahead would prove to be unlike anything she had ever endured. This unprecedented turn of events was akin to being tossed in a tempest, in which violent currents threatened to smother her.

"Hey," a deep female voice said to her left.

Dea started.

The captain leaned on the deck rail, eyes narrowed against the wind. "You okay there?"

She merely nodded.

"We'll make sure you get to Mora. It's scary, but—"

"It's not about me. There's so much that could go wrong and..." Dea shook her head. "When will we arrive?"

"Not long now."

"This safe house we're going to. What exactly is it?"

"It actually functions as a small-scale factory, which works as a good cover." Nadie's idle thumb flicked away at the binoculars that hung from her neck. "We employ some local residents and even have certification as a well-run community business."

"Oh, what do you make?"

"I think you need to know a bit about us Serendivians to understand its significance."

Curiosity bubbled up, nudging aside the anxiety. She fixed the captain with her full attention.

"We're heading to a town where people lead simple lives, and their main source of food and livelihood is catching fish," Nadie said. "This is true for most coastal towns and villages in Serendiva. Before the trawlers came, they only used these tiny canoes, and people lost their lives out there when the seas turned rough. Many of these communities still do that.

"From an eco perspective, this small-scale practice doesn't damage the oceans. But the population exploded, and one third of fish now go into feeding massive animal farming operations. Big business capitalized on demand, and the trawlers and processing plants cropped up. These small communities could not compete, and their livelihoods were disrupted—they had to venture further out to find fish and risk their lives. The ocean was always seen as an unlimited resource for exploitation, but now most of the fisheries are depleted—meaning, the loss of biodiversity is so great, we'd start seeing empty seas in mere decades."

The activity on deck receded into the distance as Dea sat unmoving. Ravi passed by just then, making her jump again.

"Ah, Ravi," the captain said, gesturing to him, "just the man we need."

He stopped and turned. His bearded face mirrored the seriousness that everyone aboard displayed. He appeared calm, but the way he shifted his weight wasn't lost on Dea.

"Ravi here comes from a fishing village. He grew up going out to sea in a canoe." Nadie's expression turned grave. "He lost his dad in a monsoon storm."

"That was a long time ago," he said quietly.

It was the first time Dea heard him speak. His speech was slightly different from Nadie's, which suggested a dialect.

"Dea wants to know what's being manufactured at Hunupetty," Nadie said.

"Oh, I see." He hefted the rope he was carrying to his other shoulder. "They make what's called tempeh karawala."

"And what's that?" Dea asked.

A thoughtful look descended on him. "Remember the tofu you had for dinner? It's made from a common seed called soybean. You can ferment the beans into a versatile food that we call tempeh. It's a staple food in the region that goes back a thousand years, but it's new to Serendiva."

"So what makes it special?"

"Karawala normally means dried fish. Serendivians are used to eating it—flakes go into all kinds of dishes. But we found out that tempeh is great at replicating it. When we first introduced it in small packets, it was received very well in the community. And that opened up many possibilities..."

"Oh..."

"You see now?" Nadie said, nodding at Ravi who returned to his task. "It might surprise you, but us Serendivians, especially those inland, have a complicated view of fishing in general. The act itself is unacceptable—in Sinhalese we call that pow or bad karma. You can imagine why this product at Hunupetty is working wonders. New source of income, less risk to people's lives and safeguarding the oceans—all the while not compromising on taste and tradition."

Dea said nothing as she mulled it over. The insight into human civilization painted a picture that was astoundingly complex and multifaceted. It also triggered the memory of Anuk's plastic-collection bot and what he had achieved. Her wayward thoughts strayed to Calliathron, and the wispy forms of new possibilities birthed in her brain.

"Captain!" a voice yelled.

Nadie whirled around.

"We just received news that Callian forces are advancing through the city! They've already occupied key positions near the city center. They're due to clash with the army at Seren City Square. The war subs are just off the coast, within sight of the prime minister's secretariat."

Dea stiffened, and heads snapped to attention. The air almost sizzled.

"Ready yourselves, folks," Nadie barked as she jogged towards the bridge. "We'll be arriving soon."

A current of nervous anticipation swept through the ship. It spiked with every nautical mile they gained. Dea squinted into the distance and finally spied land.

Shivers swam down her spine.

As they drew closer, a multitude of small structures came within view—some set widely apart. In the distance, she spotted what resembled a shipyard. The stretch of beach was strewn with flimsy boats, while further in, wilderness sprouted in thick clumps, seemingly locked in a perpetual war with human habitation.

The ship headed towards a dock, beyond which was a large plot of land. Renovated warehouses loomed out of the vegetation. It was indeed a hideout tucked away in the outskirts of Seren City.

As soon as they reached their destination, the crew set about doing their jobs in a burst of activity. The choreography brought to mind a school of barracuda.

"You ready, Dea?" Muda grunted, donning her battle helmet.

She nodded, muscles tensing on the joystick that controlled the weapons system.

They sped down the gangway into two waiting trucks. Those staying behind waved at them, shouting encouragement.

Dea sat in the second transport with Muda, Tamara and three others. The doors shut, cutting off the view outside.

When they reached the highway, the ogi's sonar indicated heavy traffic on the opposite lanes as humans fled the city. Her heart rate cranked up in tandem with a rush of adrenaline. The nearer they got to the city, the more chaotic it became.

The truck exited the highway and entered a suburb.

"Why are we going here?" Dea asked.

"Probably 'cause of roadblocks," Tamara replied in a low voice. "We want to avoid unnecessary delays and confrontations."

She nodded, forehead furrowed.

The ogi was now upgraded with a tracker to enable access to human GPS. She scanned the map and followed the truck's progress as it steered to a disused, roundabout route that led to the capital. A charged silence stretched while the vehicle droned on. Pent-up energy strained for release.

Almost half an hour later, they were well within the city, enticingly close to North Salmalwatte. The other truck split off, heading towards the Square by the coast. A distant boom invaded her ears, followed by another.

When they detected an army barricade ahead, the truck jolted to a halt. Nadie pinged them—a hurried command to disembark.

"Go, go, go," Muda shouted, emitting a volley of clicks—more out of habit than necessity.

The team burst out into the open. One of the mermen unleashed three scud bots.

Dea squinted against the morning glare while waiting for the viewport to slide into place. Then her heart leaped to her throat.

Smoke billowed up, shielding the sun and obscuring the cityscape. High-rises loomed above the dust, along with overpasses and other infrastructure. Her eyes zeroed in on the damage.

It was as if a fire-breathing monster had gone on a rampage, torching walls and chomping off concrete. Cracks, splinters, broken beams and piles of debris met her stare. A car stood totaled under a collapsed street lamp, and a runaway fire consumed an upper level of a building. This was obviously the aftermath of a missile strike.

The truck revved and snapped Dea out of her trance.

"Ready, folks?" Muda grunted.

"Ready," the team said in unison and sprang to action.

Dea joined the merwoman as she led the way. They dashed down a narrow street to bypass the barricade. Distant explosions sent vibrations slithering up her spine, and she glanced up in time to see fighter planes whooshing by.

Humans had evacuated this part of the city. They passed by hulking blocks devoid of life—not unlike the remains of the deep-sea coral grove. The road was sandwiched between condominiums, and ahead of her, the spire of the city center towered into the heavens. Fires burned, emitting columns of smoke.

Dea glanced down at her ogi and did a double take. "Guys, the scuds have sent in a visual."

The team paused to scan it, and Muda growled, "Why are they laying siege to Dilip Goonewardane's residence? Surely, he can't be in it."

"Probably don't wanna take chances," Tamara panted.

A frown lined Dea's forehead. "The Callian force would attack us...unless I reveal myself."

"No, you can't—not when we have no idea of Massa's agenda."

"Well," she said, jumping back into motion, "we'd have no choice but to fight."

The others hastened after her.

Yet more buildings brooded over beds of rubble. On either side of them was the wreckage of shattered shopfronts. Glass shards carpeted the road, crackling under wheels and boots. She involuntarily dredged up the memory of the city imprinted in her head—an image that brimmed with life. Her stomach lurched.

No resistance met them on their way to North Salmalwatte. It made sense that the battle was now concentrated where the seat of the Prime Minister was and that forces had amassed to defend it against the invader. An update trickled in from Nadie's team.

They hadn't yet located Mora. Uncertainty pressed in as Dea continued on.

The wealthy neighborhood where Dilip lived now resembled a ghost town. Dea's team proceeded with caution, slinking past abandoned vehicles and roadside trees—though moving in daylight offered little cover. A light haze did hover in the air, but nowhere enough to reduce visibility.

As Dilip's walled mansion inched into view, Callian units popped up on the sonar feed. She also spotted two defensive barricades. Dea knew that their own presence would be detected by sonar. She hastily donned a mask that Muda had given her—the Flamingo's viewport was tinted, but not enough to conceal her identity.

Without warning, Muda shouted. "Incoming!"

Animal: Leaf Sheep

https://youtu.be/BFUlWL2n5LQ