Chapter 12 - Gifts of the Ocean

The fisherman’s boat creaked as it rocked gently in the shallows. The sun, dipping low on the horizon, painted the sea in bands of orange and gold. It bathed the figure of Nuke in shimmering light, casting long shadows of his bent and battered frame. The fisherman, now calmer, stood by the mast, his nervous hands gripping a net as he eyed his unusual passenger.

Though Nuke's hulking metallic body gleamed with a faint, menacing glow, his voice carried none of the malice the fisherman had feared. His words, though stilted by his mechanical tone, were warm and strangely soothing.

“I owe you my life,” Nuke said, his single crimson eye glowing faintly as he watched the fisherman carefully coil his nets. “Few would have done what you did. Fewer still would have stayed.”

The fisherman waved a hand dismissively, though a smile tugged at his lips. “Any enemy of those cursed beasts is a friend of mine. Azahl’s creations have plagued this coast for years—stealing livestock, tearing apart what little peace we have. If you fight them, well, that’s enough for me.”

Nuke tilted his head, the joints in his neck clicking faintly as he considered this simple act of trust. The fisherman’s humanity was a rare thing—something Nuke had almost forgotten amidst the chaos of survival.

“You saved me from the ocean’s claim,” Nuke said after a moment, standing to his full height as he prepared to step off the boat. “And for that, I will return the favor.”

The fisherman turned, confused, and watched as Nuke extended his massive, metallic hand. Resting in his palm was an open shellfish, its rough edges still wet with seawater. But at its center lay a massive, radiant pearl, glowing faintly with an inner light.

“This,” Nuke said, holding it out carefully, “was found as the ocean tried to claim me. It was a gift to me, and now it is a gift to you. May the old gods forever watch over you.”

The fisherman’s mouth fell open as he stared at the pearl, his rough, calloused hands trembling as he took it. The faint light of the pearl seemed to warm his face, and his eyes filled with an emotion Nuke recognized as gratitude—a thing more precious than any treasure.

“Thank you,” the fisherman whispered, his voice cracking. A smile broke across his weathered face, wide and full of wonder. He clutched the pearl to his chest as if it were his heart itself. “Thank you.”

Nuke nodded once and stepped off the boat onto the wet sand, his heavy footsteps leaving deep impressions behind him. As the fisherman watched, Nuke turned and raised his metallic hand in farewell, the gesture somehow more human than machine.

---

Far away, in the tavern of Calimore nestled above the great cliffs, Tengukensei sat on the edge of a straw bed, his silk robe brushing the floor as he leaned forward. His youthful tired face was softened by an expression of tenderness as he dipped a cloth into a bowl of cool water.

Before him, Sachiko, bruised and battered, lay still on the bed. Her horns, faintly visible even in her resting state, caught the light of the afternoon sun that streamed through an open window. Tengukensei worked silently, wringing out the cloth and carefully pressing it to her forehead, his movements those of a father watching over a fragile child.

As the warm light filtered through the wooden slats of the window, he began to sing—a low, melodic chant that carried the weight of centuries. It was an old fable, a tale of a small girl who had the strength to change the world. His voice, though weathered, was gentle, each word rising and falling like the wind.

When her eyes fluttered open, Sachiko stared up at him, her gaze filled with recognition and relief. Her lips moved faintly, and the word came as a whisper.

“Sensei…”

Tengukensei smiled, brushing damp hair away from her face. “Rest, little one. There is time yet.”

---

High above the rugged cliffs, Woolah stood perched on a jutting rock formation, the wind whipping through his scales and ruffling the pouch at his side. He stood like a sentinel, his sharp kobold eyes scanning the beaches below. Waves crashed against the rocks, sending plumes of sea spray into the air, and seagulls cried out as they circled high above.

The coastline stretched endlessly, a jagged line of sand and stone that melted into the distance. Woolah cupped his clawed hands around his mouth and called out, his voice carried by the wind.

“Nuke! Nuuuuuuke!”

There was no answer, only the crash of waves and the screech of gulls. Woolah’s heart sank, but then—just as the wind shifted—he saw it. A figure, distant but unmistakable, walking slowly along the beach.

It was Nuke.

The metallic figure raised an arm, waving it high above his head. Woolah’s heart leapt, and he yelled again, his voice filled with relief.

But his joy was short-lived.

Behind the distant figure of Nuke, the ocean grew dark and restless. Black clouds rolled in from the horizon, spreading like ink across the sky. Thunder cracked, loud and ominous, and jagged streaks of lightning lit up the heavens. The wind howled, whipping the sea into a frenzy, and Woolah felt the first cold drops of rain on his snout.

Far below, Nuke stood motionless, his crimson eye glowing faintly against the encroaching storm. He turned his gaze upward toward the cliffs, where Woolah still stood calling his name, and raised his arm once more.

But this time, it was not a wave. It was a warning.

The storm was not just weather—it was an omen, a harbinger of what was to come. And deep in his chest, Woolah knew it.
The first cracks of lightning struck the shore, splitting the sky and bathing Nuke’s metallic figure in harsh, white light.
“The storm was here, and with it, the world would change forever.”

The storm rolled in with an unnatural speed, swallowing the horizon in thick, black clouds. The once golden light of the setting sun faded into an ashen gloom, the sky roiling as if in anger. Thunder rumbled low and menacing, shaking the jagged cliffs and sandy beaches below. Woolah stood high above it all, his small figure outlined against the incoming tempest.

“Nuke!” he cried again, his voice barely audible over the crash of waves and the rising wind. “Nuuuuuuke!”

Far below, the lone figure trudged across the beach, each step deliberate and heavy. The hulking metallic frame of Nuke gleamed faintly in the dim light, his crimson eye scanning the cliffs until it found Woolah's diminutive form perched on the rocky outcrop. A metallic arm lifted, and a single wave followed.

Woolah’s heart leapt. Relief coursed through him as he scrambled down the cliffside, sharp claws gripping the rocks as he descended. The wind tore at him, but he pushed on, the sight of his old friend spurring him forward.

Nuke, for his part, trudged through the shifting sands, his heavy footfalls leaving deep impressions behind him. Each step seemed to defy the storm, his massive frame unmoved by the howling winds. As Woolah drew closer, Nuke stopped, waiting as the kobold stumbled onto the beach, breathless and wild-eyed.

When they finally stood face to face, the contrast between them was stark—one a small, wiry kobold with scales dulled by sea spray, the other a towering figure of gleaming metal and shadow. Yet, the bond between them was clear.

“Nuke!” Woolah cried, throwing his arms wide. “You’re alive!”

Nuke’s crimson eye flickered with warmth as he knelt, extending his metallic arms. Woolah ran forward and embraced him, his small form dwarfed by the machine's bulk. For a moment, the storm seemed distant, the thunder a mere echo as the two friends reunited.

“I thought you were gone,” Woolah said, his voice cracking. “I thought—”

“I am not so easily taken,” Nuke replied, his voice low and steady. “Not by the sea. Not by Azahl.”
Woolah reached behind his back, where his blood sword was sheathed and pulled out the gnarled fey club Nuke swung like an extension of himself, “you left this behind, I have a feeling you may need it.” The wind howled louder, carrying with it the faint scent of salt and something darker—something rotten. Woolah pulled back, his sharp eyes narrowing as he glanced over Nuke’s shoulder toward the cliffs.

Then came the sound.

A low, guttural growl, rising in pitch, followed by another. And another.

The snarls and howls carried over the clap of thunder, faint but growing closer. Woolah’s ears flattened, and his heart sank as he turned his gaze upward.

Far off, on the furthest cliff top barely visible against the black sky, movement caught his eye. Lightning exploded across the heavens, illuminating the jagged rocks in a sudden, violent flash.

There they were.

Azahl’s beasts.

Twisted, unnatural creatures, their forms barely recognizable as living things, crested the rocky cliffs. Their spines jutted out at sharp angles, their limbs too long, their faces a grotesque mockery of animals and men. Their glowing eyes burned in the darkness, and their howls rose like a war cry against the storm.

Woolah froze, his claws trembling at his sides. “Nuke…”

“I see them,” Nuke said, rising to his full height, his crimson eye locking onto the distant horrors.

Lightning flashed again, closer this time, revealing the full scope of the monstrosities as they spilled over the cliffs like a dark tide. Their claws scraped against the rocks, their mouths dripping with hunger as they began to descend.

“We need to move,” Nuke said, his voice calm but firm.

Woolah nodded, his instincts screaming at him to run. Yet, for a moment, he hesitated, staring at the beasts with wide eyes.

Nuke placed a heavy hand on his shoulder, snapping him back to reality. “Run, Woolah. Now.”

Without another word, the two turned and bolted, their feet pounding against the wet sand as the storm raged around them. The howls grew louder, closer, the sound of claws scraping against stone and thunder cracking overhead merging into a deafening cacophony.

The rain began to fall in earnest, cold and relentless, soaking them as they ran. Behind them, the beasts descended from the cliffs, their twisted forms illuminated by flashes of lightning.

Woolah risked a glance back, his breath hitching as he saw the swarm closing in. “Nuke, they’re gaining!”

“Keep running!” Nuke barked, his voice cutting through the storm. “We’ll find higher ground!”

Ahead, the cliffs loomed once more, their jagged edges offering a slim hope of escape. The storm showed no mercy, its winds screaming and its rain blinding, but Woolah and Nuke pushed forward, their shared determination stronger than the fear nipping at their heels.
They ran until the cliffs rose up vertical and sharp, Woolah may have been able to make such a climb but for Nuke with no rope his weight was too much. Nuke turned and prepared to fight.

Entered by: 0xe9a1…78d3