Chapter Text
“Deeper,” Law instructed, one hand white-knuckling the gleaming rim of the helmsman’s chair. The metal frame was thin and sharp and looked like it might break through the skin if he gripped any harder. Penguin had been on his case for years to add some padding to them. They were damned uncomfortable.
The hull of the Polar Tang creaked ominously, and Law’s hand flexed minutely. Penguin thought he spied a hint of red between the palm and silver now but elected to keep his mouth shut. They had bigger problems.
“Captain…” Hakugan said uneasily. The white mask muffled his voice slightly but did nothing to hide the anxiety and strain of the last few hours. The small helmsman had been at the wheel for a full shift and then some at this point, and drops of sweat beaded on the back of his neck despite the chill. Penguin couldn’t see his hands under the gloves, but he wagered they were as bloodless as Law’s.
“Deeper!” Law urged.
Hakugan made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a laugh and flipped two switches on the console board to his right, then pressed resolutely down on the spoked wheel of the helm. The Tang’s orientation shifted and Penguin’s ears popped painfully. A small orange light by the wheel began to flash.
Footsteps and yelling rang out down the hall and passed their door. Bangs and more shouting could be heard from the deck below theirs. Hakugan glanced over his shoulder at Law, but Law’s eyes were closed as he concentrated.
“Just a little more…”
There was a faint tapping on the main view port. From the outside. They all looked up. A single, undulating thread slithered across the tempered glass. It glowed faintly in the streaming dark waters. Silently, cautiously, Penguin climbed up onto the console board, careful not to step on any buttons. He navigated around the rows of levers and dials on tiptoes. With every muscle tensed, he pressed his palm to the glass where the thread was sliding across the dome of the window. The tip of the thread moved with purpose, seeking purchase, hunting for a way inside. Penguin closed his eyes and released a small amount of haki. It was just enough to transform the skin of his palm into glistening black. He fancied he could see the smoky energy as it drifted in mist-like motes from his flesh and flowed into and through the glass. The thread retreated. He sighed in relief.
The tense lines of Law’s shoulders relaxed slightly. He turned back to Hakugan. “All ri–”
The klaxon blare of the pressure alarm sounded suddenly and the Polar Tang shuddered with such violence that Penguin was thrown from his precarious position and into the ceiling. His head cracked against the upper level’s bulkhead door, and light danced across his vision–an effervescent spray of white and red behind his eyelids. Then he knew no more.