Il Capitano | Canon RP

The storm had arrived without warning, as if the very sea itself had turned against them. Through the torrential downpour, Capitano stood at the helm of his warship, an imposing silhouette against the chaos of wind and waves. His dark uniform, adorned with the regalia of the First Harbinger, glistened with seawater and rain, each droplet tracing the battle-worn edges of the jewelry before being swept away by the howling gale. The mask that concealed his features remained unmoved, unyielding—a symbol of unwavering resolve even as nature itself conspired to break them.

The warship groaned beneath his feet, a beast of Snezhnayan engineering that had weathered countless campaigns. Its reinforced hull, plated with layers of steel and treated wood, creaked and protested against each violent wave that crashed against its broadside. The vessel had been built for war, designed to carry troops through hostile waters and emerge victorious, but tonight it faced an enemy that could not be subdued by military might alone. Rigging snapped like whip-cracks in the wind, and the tip dipped through, threatening to engulf at any moment.

"Adjust heading, ten degrees starboard!" The Captains voice cut through the storm deep and commanding. His gauntleted hand gripped the ship's secondary wheel alongside one of the helmsman, steadying both the vessel and the man's resolve. "We make for Nod-Krai's harbor. The direct route to Snezhnaya will claim us before dawn if we do not come to a stop."

Around him, his soldiers moved despite the treacherous conditions. These were Fatui operatives hardened by countless missions, yet even they struggled against the storm's fury. Water sloshed across the deck as waves breached the railings, and men clung to whatever they could find—ropes, masts, each other—to avoid being swept overboard into the churning black waters below.

The night sky offered no mercy, no glimpse of moon or stars to guide their path. Heavy clouds hung oppressively low, an impenetrable shroud of dark grey that merged seamlessly with the roiling waters. Lightning occasionally split the darkness, brief and violent flashes that illuminated the scene in stark white relief—revealing the full scope of their predicament. In those fleeting moments, the crew could see the waves towering above them, walls of water that rose and fell with terrible inevitability, each one threatening to capsize them.

"Secure the forward rigging! Move!" The Harbinger descended from the helm quickly, his presence immediately bolstering the morale of the soldiers struggling to hold the anchor roller. Despite his rank, he did not hesitate to grasp the soaked metal bar alongside them, his legendary strength making quick work of what had been a desperate struggle. "We did not survive Sumeru's trials to be claimed by this storm. Nod-Krai awaits, and we will reach it.!"

The rain fell in sheets so dense it seemed like standing beneath a waterfall, each drop striking exposed skin like tiny needles of ice. The cold was bitter, seeping through even the most well-made uniforms, turning fingers numb and making every task an exercise in endurance. Yet the soldiers pressed on, drawing strength from their commander's unwavering determination.

The warship's lanterns swung wildly from their posts, casting erratic shadows that danced across the deck. In the distance, barely visible through the storm's veil, the faint outline of Nod-Krai's coastline beckoned—a promise of shelter, however temporary, from the sea's wrath.

Capitano returned to his position, eyes fixed on that distant shore. They would make port and survive the trip. It was not a hope, but a certainty forged in the same conviction that had carried him through countless battles. The storm would break before he did.