July 29th, 1835.
The French squadron reached the mouth of the Pearl River shortly after sunrise.
Morning mist still hung low over the water, but the silhouettes of the ships were already visible long before the sun fully rose above the horizon.
At the front of the formation, the battleship Napoleon I pushed steadily through the calm waters.
Behind her followed the battlecruisers Austerlitz and Trafalgar, their long hulls slicing through the river current with practiced precision.
The rest of the fleet followed in orderly formation.
Cruisers.
Destroyers.
Merchant vessels.
And beneath the surface somewhere ahead, the submarines moved silently through the deeper channels.
From the shoreline, the first to notice them were the fishermen.
Dozens of small wooden fishing boats were scattered along the river as men cast their nets into the water.
One of them looked up when he heard the distant rumble.
He squinted toward the horizon.
"What is that?"
