The Betrayed And Forgotten. (Azur lane x USS Montana) [SLOW UPDATES]

Chapter 1: Finding the truth. (Rewrite)

Amidst the embrace of slumber, Montana's dorm room cocooned him in tranquil repose. However, the serenity was shattered by the sudden intrusion of a jarring alarm, rousing him from his dreams and thrusting him into the waking world.

"Ugh, I can't stand that alarm. Need to change it sometime," he grumbled to himself, the irritation evident in his voice as he silenced the blaring noise, coaxing himself upright from his bed.

This is the USS Montana, a distinguished member of the Eagle Union, a prominent figure whose presence resonates throughout the base. Convinced of a camaraderie that might not truly exist, he perceives himself as a welcomed presence among the ship girls, unaware of the misconceptions that loom.

Montana gathered his attire, setting the tone for the day ahead, and entered the bathroom for a refreshing shower. The warm water cascading over him became the backdrop for his contemplation on the tasks the admiral might assign him today. Emerging from the shower, he donned his outfit meticulously – the hat, the glasses, the boots – each piece aligning as an embodiment of his role. Exiting his room, he navigated the halls, his easy wave to passing ship girls met with puzzling non-responses that he brushed off as he continued onward.

As he neared the admiral's office, Montana couldn't help but sense an undercurrent of animosity from certain ship girls, their glares like unspoken riddles. Perplexed by the sudden shift in demeanor, he dismissed the thoughts and entered the admiral's quarters, his anticipation of the day's duties eclipsing the puzzling reactions that he had encountered earlier.

A gentle knock and a faint "Come in" beckoned Montana to enter the admiral's office. Stepping through the doorway, his eyes fell upon the figure of the admiral, engrossed in paperwork but preparing for a departure. Raising his head, the admiral met Montana's gaze with a cordial smile that hid a deeper sentiment.

"Ah, Montana, it's nice to see you again," the admiral greeted, his smile masking an undercurrent that Montana, in his earnestness, failed to grasp. Responding with a genuine expression of deference, Montana merely nodded in acknowledgment. "The pleasure is all mine, sir. Now, what assignment do you have for me today?" Montana inquired, his raised eyebrow betraying a hint of curiosity.

Casually leaning back, the admiral's response was straightforward, "Oh, that's simple, Montana. I need you to organize and tidy up these papers for me. My secretary and I are heading to the Northern Parliament to discuss the possibility of their alliance with Azur Lane." The admiral stood, pulling on his winter coat, his voice imbued with purpose. Montana accepted the assignment with a professional nod, "Understood, sir. Consider it done."

As the admiral made his way towards the exit, he left Montana alone with the task at hand. The door closed, sealing Montana within the office. With an exasperated glance between the door and the desk, Montana grumbled internally. Cleaning was a far cry from his usual patrolling duties, and the incongruity of the task left him bewildered. "Well, an order is an order," he muttered, determination etched on his features as he embarked on the unexpected mission, meticulously sorting and tidying the scattered papers with precision. The admiral's request remained a puzzle but in the end,  Montana's sense of duty proved to be an unwavering compass in navigating the unexpected sea of tasks that life in the base often brought forth.

<Time skip>

Montana's gaze swept over the room, his expression a canvas of satisfaction as he absorbed the orderly space before him. Papers lay in meticulous arrangement upon the admiral's desk, an embodiment of his meticulous efforts. His smile radiated accomplishment until a sudden realization brought it crashing down like a falling star. The gleam in his eyes faded as he looked down and saw the forgotten task – the floor, left untouched and untidy.