Kantai Collection: A New Force For Good

Mixed Feelings

His vision found him slowly, even as he could feel the rest of his body once again coming back to the waking world. He winced somewhat as all the feelings and pains that came with it flooded back over him, but they were brief and fleeting, allowing him a small respite as he exhaled slowly. And yet still, his vision took its sweet time returning to him.

Eventually however, it did. And as he opened his eyes, a small breeze blew in from the window somewhere in the room. Turning his head as he laid back against what he presumed was a bed, he found the large window there. And past that, the city further on, to which he furrowed his brow somewhat.

He tried to recall where he was or where he was supposed to be. But his current situation told him nothing of that, nothing useful anyways. The last thing he remembered was being aboard the Brisbane-

The Brisbane.

Logan Roberts closed his eyes momentarily as everything about that night seemed to flood back into his mind all at once. His crew. The monsters. The death, the destruction, the-

He scowled.

The Abyssals.

The Queens.

Pacific.

He opened them again as he went over the events in his head, the living nightmare just as clear now as it had been when he had lived it. He looked out at the city, and further than that, the ocean beyond it. And as if some newly formed subconscious reaction, his scowl deepened at the sight. Knowing they were out there... it had been a realization less of agitation and more of caution before hand. But now? It was simply and easily boiled down to rage.

They could speak.

They could understand language.

They were fucking intelligent.

And yet they still chose the path of genocide.

Pacific.

Celebes.

Indian.

Sulu.

The unnamed-

At the thought of the last unnamed Abyssal that was very much the reason for him being put in his current position, he turned his head as he brought his hand up, placing it at the spot where she had stabbed him. A phantom of pain passed through his form as he did so, as if his body was remembering the moment in perfect and all clear reflection. But as he put his hand all the way against his form, resting there, no actual pain bit at his nerves. Only a slight tingle of the sense of being uncomfortable but not a thing more serious than that.

But it was the shifting of movement past that brought his gaze up to another look at the room proper.

And relief flooded his veins.

There, seated in a chair, entirely opposite the wall with the window was his wife, Cameron. Her shock of blonde was done up in a messy bun, the tips dyed red like she so often liked to do. She was leaned back against the wall, but after sometime, she had naturally started to tilt to one side. In this instance, that happened to be the left side as she slept. He had no idea how long he had been here, and more so than that, how long she had been here. The last he knew, she'd been at their home in Cairns.

She slept there, clearly uncomfortable in her position if her fidgeting in her sleep was anything to go by. He watched as a moment later, she seemed to pass the point of no return as her head seemed to finally slide down the wall.

Until her body seemed to recognize the problem and she corrected automatically, once again returning to a sitting position with her head upright against the wall. And there her body settled once again.