The sky finally faded to knight after the ship had long departed the island, and slowly Sasayaki was regaining her poise, humming a familiar tune as her chain found life.  “Did we win?” she muttered, groggily swaying back and forth, searching for her bearings.

	“We did,” Isaac smiled, pointing to where they left, the faintness of ships far beyond their sight.  “You should have seen it, dozens of ships breaking, off, cannons firing everywhere, fishman singlehandedly manning the ship, old man building like there was no tomorrow, and some crazy drunken stowaway girl and her gerbil skating across the sea.  You would have loved it,” he started, taking the time after to fill in all the details.  Sasayaki was tired, but she loved every second of Isaac’s stories, forever wrapped up in his crazy dreams.  She looked from one end of the sea to another as he described it, pretending to see the world through his eyes, even mustering the strength to scan the ship, taking careful note of the frequencies of her new companions, all of them ringing in interesting ways.  She listened until the night had long set in, coming more alive as the old man behind the wheel slowly started to dowse off.

	Klank nodded off as Isaac and Sasayaki slid down the pull, a sweet lullaby emanating from the chain as they approached the wheel.  The song set in as the made their way to the deck, the man muttering as he steered them forward.  “Don’t, don’t mess with the buttons,” he yawned, struggling to keep one eye open.  “They’re.. they’re my buttons, and I, I steer the ship..  my ship..  my..”

	“You are steering the ship,” Isaac comforted, carefully loosening his grip, only for another wheel to be dupped in its place, the man still steering the air.  “Woahhh,” he whispered as Sasayaki continued to hum, “Look at those waves,” he said, guiding Klank to his cabin, slowly resting him against the bench.  “Be careful out there,” he said with the poke of the nose, tiptoeing back to the deck and to the wheel, rip with adventure.

	“Finally,” Sasayaki dragged, “The kids are asleep and the adults can play.”  Her lantern hovered over the wheel, then the buttons, then below.  “This isn’t any old ship.  Each of these thingies is connected to another thingy down there.”

	Isaac grasped the wheel, feeling the pull of the sea’s currents at the slightest resistance.  “We should probably test them out then, since we’re here.  It’s the responsible thing to do.”

	Yes, she nodded, looking regal as she wrapped around and perched over his shoulder.  “Kind sir,” she played, “I’m afraid the enemy has surrounded us.  Would you be a doll and press magic number button seven.”

	“Aye, captain, engaging.”  With a twirl of his free hand, he nobly lifted his finger, definitively pressing the cool steel.
  
	At first, nothing happened, so he pressed it again, and again, and again until he felt a rumbling from below the deck.  He shared a look with Sasayaki, unsure of what could possibly be generating so much noise, when the ship took a hop out of the water, then another, and another, sending Isaac bouncing on the deck.  Sasayaki was the quick one, recognizing the power of an overcharged air dail, anchoring to the wheel and pulling Isaac back to the floor in a snap.  “We pressed the wrong button,” She kindly reminded him, pulling back to wheel.
“I’ll just press it again,” he yelled, getting flashbacks of his last shipwreck, pulling his body closer to press the seven, only for his hand to be misdirected upon hitting another wave, striking five instead.

	Gears grinded just below deck, splitting the wood and sprouting a single fin to the ships right side, sending the vessel into a bouncing tumble.  “Wrong button,” Sasayaki screamed, sensing another silent night in the ocean until the once again could wash up on shore.

	“We. Just. Neeeed. T- to. Pressss. The right. Bu-uttons.” He struggled, sliding his hands down the row and causing the ship to groan.  He could tell what happened next, the chaos more than he was accustomed to, but he knew everything would be alright when the ship inexplicitly stopped, with what he could have sworn were large fingers encasing it.  “Nailed it,” he exhaled, smiling as the world slowly stopped spinning.