Battleship of Equestria Chapter Seventeen: The Thunder of Guns and the Clash of Titans
June 18th, 1942 7:00 AM
(Jacob's POV)
The calm water of the sea is shattered by six massive columns just ahead of our bow. The mammoth geysers of water rise into the sky before falling back down, splashing the golden chrysanthemum on the bow of the USS Fuso as she continues to move at battle speed towards our opponent: My younger brother Henry and the former American battleship USS Arizona. At least the monstrous bastard didn't insult the flag of America, for only the flag of his 'master', Cluny the Slaver, is shown, the flags carrying his message/challenge/taunt having been lowered by the appearance of the Zulu flag. I had (albeit with the greatest reluctance) moved to the armored conning tower behind Turret No. 2 by the insistent pleas of my entire crew. I turn to the speaking tube to give new directions.
"Helm, make for that geyser! Try to do your best to keep the bow pointed to those areas! It will make it much harder for the fuckers to bracket us! Fuji, give them a reply with our forward guns!" I bark into the communication device. I return my gaze to the center armored slit, watching as the two massive turrets each housing two 14-inch guns are elevated and trained slightly towards starboard at the Pennsylvania-class battleship. With a bang, the mighty guns fire, the ship lurching backwards ever so slightly.
Three colored geysers erupt behind the ship, indicating that the guns overshot it. But then I realize that there were only three columns of water, not four. The fourth shell had delivered the first blow in the duel between the only two super-Dreadnoughts in Equestria. It wasn't a damaging shot, for it had hit the side of the aft fighting top, blowing a hole in it but otherwise leaving it functional still. But it is good for our morale. I swear to God that I can hear the faint sounds of cheering all around me.
Henry's flagship fires again and misses, this time overshooting us as well. Slowly, the two steel behemoths turn to the side, intent on being the first to deliver their entire broadside. I hold my breath as the Fuso almost finishes her turn. I grin slightly at seeing that we are the first to have our twelve guns all aimed at the side of the warship that had once carried the hull designation of BB-39. "Fuji, fire when ready! Make every shot count!" I order my veteran gunnery officer in his post at the forward fire control center for the main guns. BOOM! With a shudder, all twelve fourteen-inch guns unleash their volley of high-velocity armor-piercing rounds at Henry's battleship. I watch eagerly as for the 1,485 pound shells to complete their lethal flight. Several flashes of light are finally seen, along with at least a half dozen geysers that straddle Arizona on either side. At least several shells had hit her hull. The damage is mostly superficial. I do see a single hole in her funnel near the top, occasionally emitting a cherry-red glow that is created from the impact of metal traveling at high speeds.
"That's it! Reload on the double and adjust your aim! Good work Fuji!" I say with immense pride in my voice. Fuji's reply is drowned out however, as Henry's flagship fires her own four triple-gun turrets in return fire. My eyes widen as my brain processes the twelve flashes of light aimed at my beloved warship. "BRACE FOR IMPACT!" With a sickening groan, the hull of the former Japanese battleship rocking back and forth briefly as at least one fourteen-inch shell connects with the upper part of the main mast. "Damage report!" I demand, trying to keep calm. I can't go off the handle into a berserk behavior. Not with the stakes this high and so many lives that I hold so dearly to me at stake.
In a cruel twist of irony, the freshly replaced five-inch dual-purpose gun is destroyed once again, this time with three-quarters of the crew badly injured. "All crews who are operating the exposed gun mounts, get the hell inside!" I say, cursing myself silently for not taking this action sooner. The battle just started and already I have made a mistake that cost several ponies their lives, along with a single Japanese sailor. With a clang, the salvo bell behind me turns on. With a vengeful bark, we return fire, hitting her bridge with two shells. Of course, I have no doubt that Henry is in his own ship's armored conning tower.
Still, the sight of fire and smoke starting to appear gives me some relief. As long as a single gun still works, I will not strike my colors nor give in. In the meantime our ships continue to close the range so that our secondary battery can join in the duel. "Fuji, have half the even numbered six-inchers fire armor piercing and the odd-numbered high explosive! Let the gun crews know that they can engage at will." I take a risk and briefly wonder how Froster aboard the RES Starswirl and the rest of the Equestrian fleet is doing against the sole pre-Dreadnought and the rest of Cluny's fleet. 'God speed, my friends,' I inwardly reflect.
Suddenly the ship rocks to the port side violently, nearly throwing me off balance. Alarms blare in the chaos, and I hear voices talking about something bad. Then Fuji's accented-voice confirms my fears. "Sir, we lost Turret No. 6, and the powder room is ablaze!" He says. To his credit, his voice retains the calm tone of an officer. "Is the magazine flooded?" I reply, my chief fear being that the stored charges used to launch the 14-inch shells below will go off and destroy the stern section. "Yes sir, one of the surviving gun layers had the switch thrown before leaving. We lost half the powder room operators and three-quarters of the gun crew. The rest are badly burned and are being treated now. I dispatched the crew of the other three five-inch guns to fight the fire as well. We are not out of this fight just yet sir!" I allow myself a grim smile at the determination of one of my closest officers, second only to Froster.
"Well, then let us give her a thank-you gift for the barbecue!" I say dryly, focusing solely on my ship and the enemy's. Once more the thirty-second reload cycle has been completed. Once more my family exceeds all expectations when fire the big naval guns, launching their shells with true professionalism and accuracy. The center of the Arizona erupts into flames. Now clouds of smoke begin to darken the sky around our ships as their respective crews deal both death and damage control, a scene undoubtedly shared by many other ships in the fleet.
"All turrets, same elevation, fire again!"
Elsewhere at sea…
"Fuck," The American unicorn and Jacob's former executive officer known as Lieutenant James Froster mutters from the bridge of the RES Starswirl. Another of the ironclads whose design is similar to that of the CSS Virginia goes up in a column of thick smoke and flame, courtesy of the eleven-inch guns of the SMS Pommern. 'She's tearing us apart!' Froster thinks to himself. The battle so far has been brutal, despite having only been about twenty-five minutes long so far. Equestrian losses are three frigates and four ironclads. The six-inch high explosive shells launched by Starswirl and the five-inch guns aboard the Russian destroyer named Smyshlyonyi have destroyed about a hundred enemy ships-of-the-line total, and disabling a further fifty. 'We've gotta stop her now!' The American turns to the unicorn serving as the helmsman, or in this case, helm-mare. "Bring our port guns to bear! Evasive maneuvers at all times!" He says in a crisp, no-nonsense tone. Startled by what her newly-given orders could result in, the mare nevertheless turns the wooden wheel and adjusts the protected cruiser's course, preparing to engage Goliath.
Froster then turns to his communications officer, a crimson pegasus stallion. "Fire Heart, signal to Warrant Officer Rushenkov aboard the Smyshlyonyi! Tell him to ready half of his six torpedo tubes to fire at the battleship on my orders only! We're only going to get a single shot at this. We gotta save the rest to help Jacob out if it looks like he needs it! RES Dragon will take command of the rest of the fleet, but have the gunboats engage the warships! And send it on the double!"
Back aboard the Fuso…
(Jacob's POV)
I grit my teeth as that same damn noise enters my ears once more. The sound is the sound of an American-made 14-inch armor piercing shell tearing a hull in my beloved battleship. For the past thirty minutes the two flagships have been doing their utter best to rip the other to shreds. Smoke fills the air in an ever-increasing amount as the two giants stagger and shutter with each hit. So far Fuso has lost the aft starboard dual-purpose gun, Turret No. 6, and the first 6-inch gun on the starboard side. Her stern is still ablaze, though thankfully it is relatively contained to the point of not being a source of immediate danger. Several boats and two 25mm twin gun mounts have been blown to pieces. The aft superstructure is riddled with smoldering holes made by the impact of both fourteen- and five-inch cannons. In addition to the casualties from the 127mm anti-aircraft cannon and the destruction of the rear turret, I have suffered eighteen more men and ponies dead and twenty-two injured in various degrees. Rarity and Doctor Hooves are undoubtedly busy in the medical room treating the injured.
The front-most turret suddenly fires, the order to fire at will having been given ten minutes ago. The blast of two of my ten remaining 14-inch guns reminds me that the fight has not been one-sided. Far from it, in fact. Arizona's rear superimposed turret has been hit several times. While there is no fire spilling out like it was from Turret No. 6, there have been no more flashes of light that indicate incoming shells from its three heavy guns.
"What is the current status of our hull?" I ask once again, needing every last scrap of information in regards to the fighting-capability of the mighty vessel and how much damage it can still take. Already several shells have passed through the upper decks, though thankfully not hitting any of the vital systems like the engine room. We have lost some speed due to a hit that caused briefly caused some flooding near the stern, ironically helping to douse a fair amount of the fire below decks.
I risk a quick glance to the left. If this duel is hell, then I have no idea what to say that could accurately describe the scene of both battle fleets engaged in a battle of absolute destruction. From the appearance of the designs of the ships that are on fire or sinking, the vast majority of wrecks are the well-armed but inadequately protected Carolean ships-of-the-line. The wooden hulls can still take a pounding from the solid shots of iron that our high-velocity cannons based on those from the USS Constitution, but not from the high explosive rounds developed for the muzzle-loading cannons of the Equestrian vessels. In the center is the eighth frigate to be built solely for this scenario and quite possibly the carrier of the best pony captain and crew, the RES Dragon.
The plucky warship that relies solely on her sails to provide mobility is currently engaged with not one but two Carolean ships at once. I watch in stunned silence as the two sets of fifteen 24-pounder long gun muzzle-loading cannons lob shot after shot into the two decks, their 32-pounder carronades destroying any hope of return-fire with their high explosive and anti-personal shells. Soon the warship on the port side breaks off with most of its decks ripped open, flames climbing up the masts and now-unfurled canvas sails. It only manages to make enough distance that prevents any flaming debris to possibly hit Dragon when the powder room of the doomed ship-of-the-line is consumed by the hellish inferno.
I return my attention to my own battle, and so miss the fate of the enemy warship on off the starboard side of Dragon. Another bracket of 14-inch shells from the Arizona sends Fuso rocking violently. I feel vibrations in the metal I am standing on. That must mean that at least one shell landed very close by. Before I can ask my gunnery officer of the locations of the hits, the Japanese defector beats me to the punch. "Sir, we took only a single hit. That hit was at the forward superstructure." He then pauses. I start to become impatient. I appreciate how my officers are trying to be delicate when telling me the bad news, but now is not the time for such niceties.
"Just tell me damn it!" I say angrily, my ire temporarily getting the better of me. I hear Fuji take a deep breath before taking the plunge. "We lost contact with the bridge. I sent a sailor down to check the damage. The entire bridge crew has been killed. Thankfully, we had already switched steering to the armored conning tower," Fuji says with a shaky voice. I snarl silently. Damn Henry to the deepest corners of Hell! I breath in once before replying, having regain control over my emotions.
"We can only avenge Mann and the others, so we must focus on the living Fuji. So let's send those bastards down to Davy Jones's Locker!" Fuji acknowledges the sentiment and immediately begins to bark orders to the others in his combat station. Another salvo of ten fourteen inch guns fire. I let out a victorious whoop that is echoed in the steel confines of one of the most protected areas of the entire battleship, and will undoubtedly be heard in the five turrets that are still operational.
Eight of the ten armor piercing shells have hit the side of Henry's battleship. Small explosions appear along the length of the base of the forward superstructure. We had hit the Arizona's starboard 5-inch casemate-mounted cannons and a number of the shells stored very close by to speed up their reloading process. It doesn't help the enemy's plight that the armor in that area was rather thin. Then the enemy delivers yet another critical blow.
A loud crash makes me look towards the front. I see smoke rise from the front of Turret No. 2. I hold my breath, waiting for a column of fire to erupt. A few seconds go by. I cautiously exhale, feeling slightly light-headed from the lack of fresh air. It appears that a single shell had hit the armored front of the turret. The next time the salvo bell rings, however, only eight guns fire.
The reason why comes very quickly on its own accord. The Japanese turret gunnery officer had reported that the shell that had struck the Fuso had jammed the turret traverse, wedging the turret in place as well as knocking out the recoil system for the gun on the right side of the turret. I order the turret abandoned and the now-unoccupied sailors to move as much ammunition from the disabled turret's powder room to the other turrets.
I quickly order for Turret No. 5 to fire a return shot as I have the new American helmsman standing behind me to bring her to port so we can use our as-of-yet undamaged port side. I am thankful that I had given instructions for the turret crew to find goggles and something to cover their mouths with, for I have been getting reports of large amounts of smoke in the turrets from the guns being fired so often at top speed. While conditions are still murky, the turret crews are barely affected. In fact, I hear that one of the new loaders in the turret, the Element of Honesty Applejack, has actually increased the rate of fire for one of the guns, using her apple bucking skills to slam charge bag after charge bag into the breech of her gun she had been assigned to upon volunteering.
I watch the two shells streak out of the massive rifled tubes towards the front of the Arizona. I give a grim grin to myself when I see that both had connected with the bow. While it is not enough to sink the super-Dreadnought battleship, the massive gash on the starboard side of the bow right above the waterline has an immediate effect. The now-damaged warship begins to slow down, either because of water seeping in through the damaged section of hull, Henry giving the order to reduce speed, or quite possibly both options.
Either way, I make a mental note to myself to keep the large wound in the steel hull. While I know for a fact (thanks to being a member of the United States Navy even if I am no longer back home) that Arizona has the recently-adopted 'All or Nothing' armor concept. This means that the center of the ship has the armor, and that the outer sections like the bow and stern serve more as an 'armored raft' of sorts. It also means that she has an advantage in armor over my battleship, or at least she did before we closed the gap.
We finally complete the turn-about and my four fully-operational turrets have completed the rotation. All eight guns have been reloaded. I move to the port armored slits to gaze at the flagship of the monster that was once my brother. With a sound of weariness that will soon be felt by all my men and ponies aboard the Fuso, the salvo bell goes off as the fourteen-inch guns fire at the other super-Dreadnought just as she fires nine of her own fourteen-inch shells. I fear that this duel will end up with no winner, but that is surely better then the victor being Henry. And if I should fall, others like Froster or the Equestrian mariner Captain Salty Wave are more than capable of taking over. Then I once again purge my mind of all possibly distracting thoughts as both battleships shudder under the impacts of 14-inch armor piercing rounds.
Meanwhile…
RES Starswirl
"Port side cannons fire high explosive! Aim for the bridge and the secondary and tertiary cannons! Starboard cannons, fire at any Carolean ships-of-the-line that try to assist the battleship!" Froster bellows from the chair that the captain (in this case himself) uses when on the bridge for long periods of time. He feels the ship lurch like a car swerving to avoid a deer. Columns of water erupt in the air as eleven-inch high explosive rounds from the Pommern land around the Japanese-designed cruiser. Froster remains unfazed, instead verbally inspiring his crew.
Then the smaller caliber guns aboard the German pre-Dreadnought begin to fire once the ship enters range. Several glancing shots are delivered to the stern by several 88mm cannons mounted on the side of the bow. Several salvos of 6-inch high explosive rounds silence the offending guns, along with a few lucky five-inch rounds hitting other exposed 88mm gun mounts. Several are destroyed.
The exchange of gunfire is not one-sided, unfortunately. The stern six-inch cannon had attracted a fair number of 6.7-inch gunfire from the Pommern. The entire area of the deck surrounding the exposed gun is littered with body parts, gore, and blood. This is the price of having to operate such an exposed mount.
"Sir, Smyshlyonyi has signaled that she is in position and awaits your orders to launch her torpedoes!" Froster's pegasus communications officer reports from his station. "Tell her to let them have it!" the American sailor shouts excitedly. The effort to clear enemy ships from blocking the path of the three 21-inch torpedoes and causing the precious weapons to sink a lesser target. With the Fuso heavily engaged against the Arizona, the only weapons capable of sinking the heavily-armored pre-Dreadnought battleship.
"Smyshlyonyi reports that she has three fish in the water that are running hot! Time to impact is twelve seconds," Fire Heart says, the officer looking up from his station. The American unicorn simply nods and starts a mental clock. Twelve, eleven, ten, nine…
The seconds seem to turn into minutes as the two twin-gun turrets finally adjust their aim towards Froster's first-ever command. With four bright bursts of light, the 11-inch German cannons belch four high explosives rounds at the nearly-undamaged cruiser. "BRACE FOR IMPACT!" Froster bellows, activating his magic to keep him in place. The helms-mare wraps her hooves around the spokes of the wooden wheel, locking both her and the helm in place.
Three of the four shells fired by the old German battleship miss the much smaller warship. The fourth shell connects directly steel superstructure, a little bit above the base of the fourth funnel. The Starswirl is thrown violently to one side from the large-caliber impact, but aside from bruises, cuts and scrapes, and a few broken bones here and there, the lasting damage aside from a superficial viewpoint is very minimum.
Three, two, one!
Just as the word forms in Forster's mind, three massive columns of water appear directly over the starboard side of the SMS Pommern. All three of the Russian torpedoes had detonated against the metallic hull of the aged warship. It appears that the Carolean crew did nothing to protect the pre-Dreadnought against torpedoes, just like her original German owners. Of course, when she had gone down during the famous Battle of Jutland in the year of 1916, she had been hit by one, possibly two torpedoes. And these are newer torpedoes.
Needless to say, the results are a sight of awe, but yet also creating a somber mood for the crew of sailors at seeing a once-magnificent vessel be destroyed once more.
A flash of blinding light appears as a loud boom is heard over everything else as at least one of the shell magazines of the battleship, possibly more, is detonated. This starts a chain reaction of several more detonations down the length of the right hull. Then the hull of the once-deadly warship that had served the Kaiser's High Sea Fleet for nearly a decade is lifted from the embrace of the ocean briefly. When the hull reunites with the water, the ship emits a heart-wrenching moan as the strain form both the explosions and the lift and drop into the ocean proves too much for her. The hull splits in two just in front of the forward funnel. The bow and stern project out of the water as the SMS Pommern is once more reunited with the ocean floor as a grave for her entire crew, though this time it is one of Caroleans and not Germans.
On the bridge and throughout his ship, Froster hears the sounds of victory being made by the Starswirl's crew. Alone among the celebrations, the unicorn officer clears his throat before speaking through the ship's internal communication system. "We have just sunk one of their two battleships, but it is still early in the fight. All guns, fire at will! Let's send these bastards to join that battleship!" With more throaty cheers, the remaining guns fire at will, lobbing 6-inch high explosive rounds at any and all targets.
Back aboard the Fuso…
(Jacob's POV)
I look to the starboard side as I hear a loud explosion. I see a pillar of smoke ascend from the area where the Pommern had been. I grin to myself. 'I knew I could count on you Froster. Drinks are on me tonight. If we make it through this, that it.' The pleasant thought is shattered by my gunnery officer's voice addressing me.
"Sir, the enemy's rear turret is moving its guns away from us! She must be changing targets! Oh, fuck! Captain, Henry is aiming for Froster and the Starswirl!" Fuji calls out suddenly. I tear my eyes from the Arizona to her stern. To my horror, the three 14-inch guns are moving away from the Fuso and towards the Equestrian flagship commanded by Froster. "Warn Froster that Henry's lining up on him!" I shout, panic entering my voice for the first time this morning. "Fire everything at that turret now!" I continue ordering. Precious milliseconds go by as the eight 14-inch main guns still operational and the entire seven port secondary six-inch guns adjust their firing trajectory towards the stern of the Pennsylvania-class super-Dreadnought battleship.
My panic continues to rise. "Goddamn it! I said fire!" I scream aloud in a futile effort to change what I am fairly confidant will happen next. And I am powerless to stop it. My heart nearly shatters as three rear-most three fourteen-inch cannons boom. I watch with anger as three thin streams of white smoke arch into the darkened sky towards the small protected cruiser. 'Fucking shit,' I repeatedly curse in my head.
The three shells strike the Starswirl directly between her second and third funnel, surely penetrating her. Maybe the damage will not be quite as bad as if they used high explosive rounds and the ship can be abandoned. That idealistic thought is destroyed by what happens next, my brain processing the horror in slow-motion. A scene that would forever haunt my sleep for as long as I live, if not for Luna's power over dreams.
At first the protected cruiser continues to move forward, the only sing of damage being a noticeable decrease in the amount of hull visible as she takes on water, meaning that at least one shell went through her bottom, allowing sea water to come gushing in. Then large trails of sparks fly into the air above. Geysers of blazing fires quickly follow, climbing higher and higher. Then all the portholes in the ship, along with the windows of the bridge, are light up as a massive explosion rocks the ship. Waves of fire bellow out of the now-shattered bridge where Froster had undoubtedly stayed at. Smoke pours out of portholes. The ship rolls over almost pathetically to the side, her hull quickly breaking in two not unlike that of her adversary sunk just minutes earlier.
Then the red paint of the metallic bottom of her hull appears as both ends completely capsize and sink out of sight. I strain my eyes, grabbing a pair of binoculars a stunned Marine guard offers me. I see a large amount of debris bobbing at the surface. But I see no bodies, alive or dead. My closest confidant, second only to my beloved Luna, is gone. My heart hardens in anger as my teeth clench. I return the binoculars to my fellow American as I trot over to the speaking tubes, clearing my voice before breaking the horrific silence.
"Fuji, pond those fuckers into dust!" I command, anger taking over. I turn to my helmsman, hatred in my gaze, the only emotion I can currently feel being the absolute loathing towards Henry. "Helmsman, after two more salvos are launched, turn the bow of the ship towards the Arizona and prepare to ram her once her side is facing the beach! Tell the engineers to throw our furniture into the boilers if they need to do so to build up speed, but just get it done!" I snarl at the shocked helmsman. He nods mutely before relaying my instructions to the engine room. I watch with pride as the turret responsible for the death of my dear friend is blown into scrap metal in the return volley, steel flying everywhere from the explosion created.
As the ship continues to build up speed, I wait for the right moment to give the order to go to flank speed and ram Henry's battleship with my own. The second salvo fires and hits the aft superstructure directly at the base of the main mast. With a crash, the tall object topples to the side, slowing the wounded beast even further. Then my ship straightens into a straight line as both ships are finally in position for my desperate and hate-fueled gambit.
Now only Turret No. 1 can fire, as Turret No. 2 is still jammed to starboard. As the gap closes rapidly, I order for Fuji to fire one last volley into the damaged section of the hull. With perfect accuracy, two more fourteen-inch shells slam into the exposed innards of the bow, widening the hole and also deepening it. Then There is no more time to reload and fire. I turn to the Marine standing next to me. "Sound the collision alarm! Brace for impact!" I order, feeling a tinge of excitement at performing this ancient naval combat tactic long-unused except by occasion against small vessels or submarines.
I use every ounce of my alicorn magic I can spare that wouldn't drain me in any hand-to-hand combat to push my ship forward even faster. Meanwhile the collision alarm blares ominously as the two metal titans near the other closer and closer. All over the ship, the warning to brace is given. Men and ponies crouch behind solid objects and move towards the stern, away from the bow to escape possibly being crushed or worse, drowned.
With a jarring thud and a horrific screech of large amounts of steel smashing and scraping against one another, the bow of my beloved Fuso slams directly into the large shell hole in the bow, just in front of Arizona's two forward turrets. Having already suffered heavy damage from my cannons, the gaping hole that had been slowing down the former American battleship widens as my own battleship's momentum carries her forward. Deeper and deeper does the bow mounting a golden chrysanthemum go through.
The addition of my magic allows Fuso to shear through the remnants connecting the bow to the rest of the ship as she steams towards the beach, her own bow mangled and badly damaged. The Arizona is pushed ashore not far from where the USS Fuso finally comes to a stop at. I shake my head to fully regain my thoughts, my actions copied by others. The faint sounds of battle tell me that we are near the location of the land battle. In fact, I can definitely hear the voice of my beloved princess of the night as she shouts orders to her soldiers.
Then I see him. Henry stands halfway between the beached battleships, his mameluk sword given to him when he became an officer in the Marine Corps drawn and at the ready. He is waiting for me. It is time to finally end this. I turn to the Marine. "Have the others keep the ship in our control. If it comes to it, get as many vessels as you can to tow her back to shallow waters. Fuji is in command as he is the ranking officer. Good luck," I say as I exit the armored conning tower. I leave my M1911 .45 Colt behind, taking only my own Naval Academy sword. Exiting the beached Japanese warship, I gallop across the sand and stop only two yards away from Henry.
I stare at him as he begins to emit an insane laugh. "Finally, after all this time, we face one another in combat. Oh how I have waited for this moment, brother!" The cruel alicorn taunts me, his eyes flashing crimson like his magic that he uses to levitate his sword, instead of the dark magic he used in the Crystal Empire. I snarl at him, my voice dripping with venom. "You lost the right to call me brother long ago! One shall stand, and one shall fall!" I reply, readying my own sword. Henry nods at this as he replies. "And I think it will be me…WHO KILLS YOU!"
With a growl, he spreads his wings and flies towards me. I copy his actions and leap into the air as well. Our swords clash against one another as the final fight between Henry and I begins in earnest. Only one can stand, and just as I promised Luna, I will do my damn best to not die, nor will I let Henry live.