The smoke thinned. The last of the gunfire had gone silent. Greta stood tall amid the ruins of the harbor, her chest rising and falling with measured breaths. The glowing limbs behind her swayed like kelp in a hidden current, steady and calm.
Inside her head, the voices of the Tintenwächter were no longer a dozen separate threads. They had blended—harmonious, balanced, carrying her along like a tide instead of drowning her beneath it.
You are holding, Greta, said Olrick's voice, but it was layered with the warmth of Tilo's laughter and the sharp crackle of the electric twins. You are one of us now, but you are still yourself.
She let out a shaky laugh, half in relief, half in disbelief. Her hands trembled, but not from fear—she could feel the power humming through her veins like the rhythm of the ocean. For once, she was not at the mercy of her Guardians. They were not passengers in her life, nor was she a vessel for theirs.
They were together.
The surviving dockworkers crawled from hiding, staring at her in awe. Some muttered prayers. One man whispered, "Meereshexe…" (sea witch).
Greta lowered her head, the glowing tentacles folding inward until they vanished in a shimmer of light. She willed the fusion to ebb, and to her relief, the voices softened, separating again into familiar individuals. The Tintenwächter reappeared in the water with a splash, circling her protectively.
She was herself again—Greta Galdner, the shy researcher in glasses and a too-big lab coat.
But everyone who had seen her knew better now.
The fire brigade's sirens wailed in the distance. Already questions would come—police, city officials, reporters. But Greta had no answers she was ready to give.
Instead, she crouched at the pier's edge, whispering into the water. "Thank you. All of you."
The Guardians responded not with words, but a wave of warmth that pulsed through her chest like a heartbeat.
For the first time since she had bonded with them, Greta felt like she wasn't just carrying a burden. She was carrying an army, a family—one that trusted her to lead.
She stood, brushing ash from her coat, and squared her shoulders.
The Schwarzschwarm had made their move. They wanted her Guardians for themselves. They wanted the secrets her father died chasing.
Well, they'd just learned something important.
She wasn't hiding anymore.