I Died and was Reincarnated as a Warship in a different world

The cool morning wind carried me along as I went through my daily routine on campus. There was the sound of footsteps on the paved road in the air, accompanied by voices afar-activity instructors calling out respectively-but the feeling I had was somewhat unsettling, like an eerie shadow over me. Today was meant to be a day of drills and tactics, but those words from yesterday drummed in my mind—a threat. Of what nature? The question scratched at the edges of my mind and would not be set aside.

I pushed it down, reminding myself of the tasks ahead. I couldn't afford distractions; not now, when finally I was making my progress in this training. Stepping out into the sun-drenched courtyard, the sight of my classmates getting ready for the day took me from my thoughts for a moment. They laughed and bantered; their camaraderie weighed heavy against my heart. I wanted to join them-to be swept away by their energy-but the nagging sense of foreboding lingered on, a storm cloud on the horizon.

"Fusō! Are you spacing out again?!" Isokaze's voice cut through my reverie, yanking me back to the present. I turned to her, forcing a smile onto my face as I laughed it away. "Just thinking about today's drills," I replied, though inside, the truth felt much more muddied. With that, we continued on our way to class, though the whisper of a chill ran down my spine-a promise of something dark and powerful just out of reach.

The morning passed in a blur of lectures and exercises, but that threat somehow chewed away at me. It was as if a shadow had started to follow me, weighing heavier with every passing hour. I attempted to pay attention to the tactics we were going over, but my mind was slipping to the foreboding presence I felt. Yet, it was hard to get rid of this feeling that something was cooking beneath the surface, that something would come along to disrupt our world in ways we couldn't yet understand.

Government Building: Capital, Meeting Room

The cold fluorescent lights that hung above the government meeting room cast an eerie silence, a stark contrast to the chaos of the academy. Commander Rachel stood at the front, her face grave as she addressed the officials present. The president, stern and clad in his crisp uniform, leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "Exude, ma'am, do you have any updates on the so-called Black Armada?"

With a nod, slow and sure, in the weighted air of words: "The Black Armada… at this moment, our intelligence agencies have verified their capabilities beyond our current comprehension." The quiet swooped into the room as she furthered, her voice firm yet low. "They have come to devise a movement that leaves them behind the cloaks of detection, using electromagnetic propulsion. This, almost, makes them invisible to all our radar systems.

Whispers ran around the room like a cold breeze. The officials cast glances at one another, their concern etched on their faces. "But that's not all," Rachel went on, undaunted. "Their vessels are draped in some sort of black camouflage that makes them practically invisible to the naked eye. Reports say they are armoured with 19 to 30 inches of solid reinforcing plate, giving them very strong protection.

The furrows on the president's brow deepened as he digested this information. "And what about their design? Do we know where they originated?

Rachel leaned forward slightly. "Many reports indicate their superstructure closely resembles that of the American warships, particularly the USS Iowa. But the true origins of the Black Armada remain shrouded in mystery. We have no confirmed sightings of their fleet, and those who have encountered them speak of a fleet that can seemingly vanish into thin air.

And there were more questions in the air, palpable as they had not been uttered. Where were they from? Who was in charge of such a mythical fleet? When silence finally fell in the room, tension suddenly developed, like a thick fog. The information gap was a chasm torn open into perilous ignorance, exposing us to an enemy which was hardly comprehensible. Time was running out, the Black Armada was at sea, and the balance of naval power was about to shift.

I could almost feel the weight of their presence leaning against us, a change in the works up ahead. It sent shivers down my spine, a warning bell of a storm that was to come, one that would shake the very foundations on which our world was built. What it was, I don't know. All I knew was that we needed to keep our eyes peeled. Something was going to change, and it would be dark and powerful. It would demand more of us than that to which we were prepared to give.