Firefly began to contemplate her next move. Systematically hunting down every monster in the vast ocean was impractical, like searching for a needle in a haystack.
Perhaps she could focus on the Dimensional Rift itself? If she had Herta study the rift and devise a way to forcibly close it, wouldn't that bring them back to the Prophet's original prophecy?
According to the Prophet's prophecy, Herta's research into the Dimensional Rift had likely accelerated the impending disaster from three years to one. In other words, if Herta attempted to resolve the underwater rift now, she might inadvertently hasten the calamity.
But leaving the rift unattended was equally unacceptable. It would persist indefinitely, a ticking time bomb. Firefly realized she had no real choice—only varying degrees of disaster.
Far away in Great Britain, Herta muttered to herself, "Fine, I give up! Even one year should be enough!"
Firefly postponed her original plan to study weapons, as Herta had once again prioritized the investigation of the Dimensional Rift. For now, she focused on modifying a puppet capable of freely exploring underwater while carrying advanced detection equipment.
This would undoubtedly take some time, and Firefly couldn't afford to wait idly on the sea's surface. Using intelligence gathered from Elysia, she flew northward.
Soon, a massive fleet came into view: a carrier strike group comprised of seven or eight aircraft carriers and over thirty escort ships. Such a lavish formation could never belong to Sakura Prefecture; it was clearly White Eagle's own fleet.
Well, it's perfectly normal for White Eagle's fleet to be operating near Sakura Prefecture, isn't it?
This fleet was also carrying out Elysia's search order, but their efficiency far surpassed Sakura Prefecture's. Thousands of small robots had been deployed underwater to scour the entire area, though their poor quality limited their maximum diving depth to just three hundred meters.
Though this fleet was far more lavishly equipped than the one stationed in Sakura Prefecture, its current efforts were doomed to futility. Just moments ago, Elysia had issued a new order: suspend the search mission and allow her friend, "SAM," to temporarily land and rest here.
The captain was stunned when he first received this command. After all, they were in the middle of the ocean. What could "Lady Elysia's friend temporarily landing" possibly mean?
The order felt as absurd as telling a plane in mid-flight to pause mid-air while someone boarded.
Then, less than a minute after the command arrived, SAM descended from the sky and landed directly on the deck of an aircraft carrier.
Immediately, alert soldiers armed with rifles swarmed onto the deck, leveling their weapons at the silver-clad "unidentified intruder."
In truth, the fleet had been on high alert ever since SAM's "unidentified flying object" first appeared on radar. But her speed was so extraordinary that the escort ships didn't even have time to issue warnings or swivel their turrets before SAM had pierced through their defenses and landed successfully.
The soldiers' heightened vigilance was entirely understandable. Soon, the captain arrived, dispersing the surrounding troops. "This is Lady Elysia's friend," he announced. "Show some respect! Disperse immediately! Get back to your duties!"
The captain then approached SAM, bowing respectfully. "How long will you be staying, sir? Would you like me to arrange accommodations for you?"
Firefly pondered for a moment—or rather, Herta calculated the time needed to modify the Puppet. Then SAM's cold, mechanical voice replied, "I'll be here for one to two days."
The captain nodded. "Understood. Please follow me."
He glanced up at SAM's towering height of over two meters and added, "I'll do my best to find you a larger cabin."
However, even the relatively spacious quarters felt cramped once SAM entered. After all, this was a warship, not a luxury yacht. Most of the ship's space was dedicated to weapons and equipment, leaving little room for crew quarters.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Firefly couldn't help but ponder her situation. What should I do now? she wondered. I can't just sit here forever.
Should I deactivate the transformation?
After a moment's contemplation, she made up her mind. Deactivate!
Instantly, the imposing mecha vanished, replaced by a cute young girl. The once-cramped room suddenly felt spacious again. Firefly slipped off her shoes, revealing her adorable feet clad in white stockings, and climbed onto the bed. Leaning against the headboard, she pulled out her phone and let out a contented sigh.
This is much better! she thought. Piloting SAM was exhilarating, but staying in that form indefinitely? No way.
Firefly settled in for a leisurely wait. Playing on her phone aboard an aircraft carrier was a rare treat—aside from the slightly spotty Wi-Fi, it was surprisingly pleasant.
As Lady Elysia's honored guest, she was left undisturbed. Only at lunchtime did the captain personally knock on her door to ask if she needed a meal.
But Firefly was already eating. Robin had personally bought the groceries, cooked lunch, and sent her a portion through their Chat Group.
Eating takeout too often isn't good for you, so Robin had gradually learned to cook in her spare time. Her culinary skills turned out to be surprisingly impressive. Most importantly, she could prepare meals for everyone to enjoy—except for Elysia and Herta, who were too far away due to time differences. Robin herself, along with Firefly, Sparkle, and Lingsha, all ate Robin's cooking.
Wearing an apron and humming a gentle melody, Robin's small wings behind her ears fluttered softly with the rhythm. She looked the picture of domestic tranquility as she prepared a family-sized meal for four in the kitchen. There was something inexplicably "wifely" about her, though in truth, all the food was just for herself.
On the aircraft carrier, Firefly was eating her meal and too lazy to transform. She mumbled indistinctly, "Not bad!"
The captain outside the door paused briefly but didn't press the matter. "Understood. Please rest well."
Everyone on this ship, and indeed the entire fleet, were devout believers in the Church of Elysia—utterly trustworthy individuals. The captain naturally knew better than to ask questions that shouldn't be asked.