Sleep does not remain with me for long.
My chest tightens—the image I saw earlier repeats in my mind, refusing to leave. I finally rise, following the ship's slow yet unsteady sway, stepping past the crew—some hanging in hammocks, others lying across the wooden floor.
I step outside.
The night air greets me with a biting chill. I walk to the edge of the deck, my hand brushing against wood damp with dew as I gaze at the sea beneath the moonlight.
That shimmer… strangely calms me.
Is this one of them, Mother? One of the things you meant?
Three answers I must find, and one place that continues to echo in my mind.
Lumineth.
My father never told me to go there.
Yet I want to go.
More than ever.
TIK... TIK...
A drop of water falls onto my face.
I look up.
Rain—
GDHAM!
The ship lurches violently.
My body is thrown sideways, slamming hard into the wall.
Ukh— I groan softly, forcing myself to stand, then look out at the sea.
Dark.
Turbulent.
I turn to the sky—the moon is swallowed by thick clouds.
Rain. High waves.
A storm?
I move quickly toward the helm.
Oliver sits before the wheel, his hands still gripping it, yet his eyes are closed—fast asleep. The drizzle does not wake him.
Should I wake him?
DRAM!
Another wave crashes. I fall again.
Of course.
"Oliver!" I call, trying to stand once more.
DRAK-DRUK—crates behind me topple—BANG—slamming hard into the opposite wall.
"OLIVER, WAKE UP!"
He jolts awake, his eyes snapping open. Without a word, he grips the wheel again and looks to the sky.
"High tide?!"
I nod.
He grabs a scroll from his waist, opening a map quickly despite the pouring rain.
He falls silent.
"Wake everyone!"
—
Storm.
Lightning.
"EVERYONE! LOWER THE SAILS!"
We move under heavy rain. Lightning splits the sky—
CTHAAAAAARHTH!
Rose and I haul crates inside, pulling ropes with hands that begin to numb. Oliver, Santiago, Grizz, and Gruzz climb the masts, securing sails battered by the wind. Bartra stands watch over the dark horizon.
"MOVE! FASTER! MOVE!"
"Damn it… why a storm now?! This zone should be safe!"
Rose struggles beside me to keep her balance. She pushes a crate—
BRAK!
She falls hard.
I am dragged with her—BRUK—slamming into the floor.
We rise again.
Only a few crates remain.
I set one down, pausing briefly to catch my breath.
"Strange, isn't it?" she says. "Uncle did not even know this storm was coming."
I remain silent for a moment, then shake my head slowly.
"My instincts have felt wrong from the start. Something is off," I say.
"I feel it too," she replies quickly. "We do not have time. Come on."
—
WHAAAAAAHM!
The storm strikes without mercy.
I grip the wet rope, my fingers stiff from the cold. Water crashes endlessly against my face.
Above, Bartra stands on the mast, a spyglass in hand.
At first—nothing.
Then something moves.
A glimpse.
Then again.
Closer.
Closer—
PKHAAAAHM!
A massive impact shakes the ship.
Bartra loses his balance. Oliver slips from control—BRAK—crashing to the floor.
Oliver grits his teeth, his face tightening as he forces himself up.
PAK—he seizes control again.
"BARTRA! DO YOU SEE ANYTHING?!"
"Santiago! Grizz! Gruzz! Secure the lines!"
"Oliver…!" Bartra's voice changes.
I look up at him.
His face… frozen, staring at what lies ahead.
Oliver turns as well.
"WHAT—"
He freezes.
Rose turns.
"WHAT—IS THAT."
She freezes.
I turn.
"Huh."
Everyone freezes.
Oliver drops—DUK—to his knees. His body trembles.
"KRAKEN..."
"…AHEAD!" Grizz shouts.
Two enormous yellow eyes emerge from the darkness of the sea.
Then—
WHAM!
A massive tentacle lashes out, striking the stern and wrapping around it.
The ship convulses violently. Wood cracks under pressure.
"Santiago, fire! Rose, move! Young Master, do what you can!" Oliver shouts, gripping the wheel tightly.
Rose runs below deck.
Santiago fires his arquebus—
PSSHH—
Failure. The powder is soaked.
"Damn it," he mutters.
I look around—a small axe is tied to the railing.
I grab it.
Without thinking, I begin hacking at the tentacles crawling onto the deck.
One. Two. Three.
Keeping them away.
Rose returns, bow in hand.
Her arrow flies—
CKAAAAHSH—striking the creature's eye.
WRHAAAAAAAHM—its roar shakes the sea.
The ship tilts violently to the right. The wheel is forced in the opposite direction as we struggle to keep balance.
"Aaaaaakh!" Oliver grits out.
The ship jolts—
CKHAAAAM!
A low rumble rises.
One…
Two…
No—
fifteen tentacles erupt around the ship.
Larger.
Thicker.
WHAM—they clamp onto the hull from both sides.
KRAAAK—
Wood splinters.
SWHAAAHM—
Water bursts through.
Two crew members slip—
"Nooooo—!" they scream—
and vanish beneath the waves.
Panic spreads through everyone.
—
"FIRE THE CANNONS!" Oliver shouts.
"Santiago! Grizz! NOW!"
Oliver keeps shouting commands from the helm.
They rush below deck.
Bartra continues launching metal shots from his sling.
"Damn it, damn it, damn it…" he mutters, his aim faltering as his body trembles uncontrollably.
"They won't fire! Everything is soaked!"
Oliver grits his teeth.
The ship tilts sharply.
It leans hard to the left. Oliver forces the wheel the other way, struggling to keep us from capsizing.
"AAAAAAAH!" he strains, the wheel barely responding.
I see Rose.
Tears stream down her face.
Her arrows are running out.
Gruzz braces the cracking mast.
Everyone is fighting.
In their own way.
And me?
I stand here.
Holding the axe I just took from the wall.
WASH—WUSH—WASH—WUSH!
Cutting through one of the many tentacles.
No.
I cannot keep doing just this.
I will not let this end like this.
I close my eyes.
Darkness.
I prepare myself—resolve hardening—to keep cutting them down one by one.
But—
—something within me awakens.
My vision is pulled again—the same strange magic as at the river. It opens, forming the same image as before I closed my eyes. The difference is—it moves…
The axe remains raised in my hand. I am still far from the creature, running straight toward it, my steps stabilizing within a single heartbeat.
…as if guiding me—
I never expect this to happen again.
—and when I open my eyes, I know I have to lead it.
Several tentacles clutch the deck, crushing the ship's walls. I step onto one of them, planting my foot on the slick flesh without hesitation. I have only one target—the eye.
I open my eyes wide.
The axe remains in my grip as I run. Beneath me, the tentacle pulses. Around me—SHKWHAHM—wood splinters and breaks apart.
But I do not stop.
Something beyond my vision already guiding me… and I simply follow.