Chapter 80: Come With Us.

Donovan kept his hands resting on the edge of the conference table, his gaze steady.

"That’s classified," Donovan replied flatly to Miyuki’s question. "All you need to know is that command has been aware of your movements since your ships cleared the imperial coastline."

Miyuki swallowed, looking down at her lap. Beside her, Ayanokoji remained impassive, his eyes fixed on the admiral.

"Let’s get straight to the point," Donovan continued, pulling out a chair and sitting down. Captain Hayes remained standing at his flank. "Your lead vessel has sustained catastrophic structural damage below the waterline. The keel is split, two lower compartments are flooded, and the second ship isn’t equipped to tow a dead hull for another thousand nautical miles. In military terms, you are stranded in the middle of the ocean."

"We are aware of the damage," Ayanokoji said in his clear, measured English. "What are your intentions regarding us?"

"We are taking you into custody," Donovan said without hesitation. "Both vessels, the surviving crew, and the two of you are being escorted to United States sovereign territory. We will secure your wounded, place your sailors under guard, and tow the salvageable ship."

Ayanokoji tilted his head slightly. "United States sovereign territory. Does that mean the entire American mainland was summoned to this world?"

Captain Hayes shifted slightly, exchanging a brief glance with Donovan. The admiral didn’t hesitate to give an honest answer to that specific question.

"No," Donovan stated plainly. "The mainland was not summoned. North America is not sitting out past the horizon."

That single sentence caused Miyuki’s breath to catch. If the mainland wasn’t here, then what was? How could an entire fleet exist without a homeland?

Ayanokoji’s eyes narrowed just a fraction, the gears in his head turning rapidly.

"If the United States mainland was not summoned," Ayanokoji said, his tone turning analytical, "then maintaining this fleet is logistically impossible. A Ford-class carrier requires an industrial base to operate. You need aviation fuel refineries, precision parts, microchip fabrication, solid-state electronics, and specialized dry docks for maintenance. Even with nuclear reactors providing power to the hull, the aircraft, radar arrays, and munitions have finite operational lifespans. Without the mainland’s supply chains, this strike group should be completely crippled within months."

Donovan stared back at the teenage boy, his expression remaining completely unreadable. He didn’t offer an explanation. He didn’t mention factories, summoning abilities, or how their logistics functioned.

"You’re well-informed for a high school student," Donovan said calmly, brushing past the question entirely. "But how we fuel our birds and maintain our hulls is not your concern, son."

"Then what is our concern?" Ayanokoji asked. "You’re offering us escort, but an escort by a foreign military usually comes with conditions."

"It’s not an offer," Donovan corrected, leaning forward, his voice dropping into cold authority. "It’s an order. You don’t have a choice in this matter. Either you and your people surrender your vessels and come with us to United States territory, or we leave you right here to drift. And if you attempt to point those ships west on your own, you will be treated as hostile combatants and fired upon."

Miyuki flinched at the word. "Hostile? But we haven’t attacked you! We didn’t even know you existed until last night! Why would you treat the Solarian Empire as hostile?"

Donovan looked directly at Miyuki, his eyes hardening.

"Because the empire you serve crossed a line they shouldn’t have," Donovan said flatly.

He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over the table. "Seven months ago, your Holy Solarian Empire dispatched an expeditionary force across this ocean. Their mission wasn’t peaceful trade or exploration. They were en route to invade and annex an independent territory inhabited by the native beastkin tribes along the western coastline."

"A one-sided slaughter disguised as holy conquest," Captain Hayes added with a grim frown. "Our high-altitude reconnaissance drones spotted your empire’s fleet moving into the coastal waters of an independent beastkin territory. By the time our assets established visual over the shoreline, imperial soldiers had already made landfall. They were burning native settlements, cutting down fleeing villagers, and rounding up captives in chains under the banner of their goddess. Command made the call to intervene on humanitarian grounds."

"Our strike aircraft and naval surface units engaged the imperial vanguard to stop the massacre," Donovan continued in a calm, matter-of-fact tone. "We hammered their landing parties, shattered their wooden galleons, and completely terminated the expeditionary force before they could advance inland. Once the threat was eliminated, we made peaceful contact with the survivors on the ground—the Ironclaw tribe. We provided medical aid, assisted in rebuilding their villages, and subsequently established formal diplomatic ties with their leadership."

Of course, there was a lie on Donovan’s statement, he doesn’t have to give two high-schoolers the full report of how the United States responded against Solarians.

"We are currently holding Paladin Valerius and Grand Inquisitor Corvin in our detention facilities," Donovan added, his tone firm and cold. "Both high-ranking officers are alive and accounted for. As I said, the United States is not waging an unprovoked war of conquest against the Holy Solarian Empire. We simply put a permanent stop to an illegal colonial slaughter."

Miyuki lowered her head, her hands gripping her skirt tightly. Hearing that names like Valerius and Corvin had been effortlessly captured by modern forces left her speechlessly overwhelmed. The absolute moral and tactical high ground belonged entirely to the military sitting before them.

"So we have no alternative," Ayanokoji said, leaning back slightly against his chair. "If we refuse your terms, our battered ships sink in the open sea. If we attempt to sail forward, we are classified as hostile combatants and eliminated. And if we try to return east, we risk carrying tactical intelligence you cannot allow to reach the capital."

"Glad to see you can do basic arithmetic, son," Donovan replied bluntly, standing up from the conference table. "Your vessels are being seized under maritime security protocol. Your sailors will be disarmed, your wounded will receive medical care from our corpsmen, and the two of you are coming with us to the western base."

Donovan looked between the two teenagers with unyielding eyes.

"You have five minutes to return to the corvette, inform your men of the situation, and ensure complete compliance. If anyone draws a sword or casts a single spell, my fleet will open fire. You know what it means."