The Kashima Maru didn't sail through the water so much as it plowed through a thick, liquid graveyard. Outside the steel walls of the infirmary, the ocean had become a vast expanse of grey sludge. The waves folded over themselves like heavy curtains of lead.
Ren Hanshin lay on his cot, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. Every vibration of the ship's massive engines felt like a needle pressing into his bones. His right arm was no longer black, but the new skin was an angry red that throbbed with every heartbeat.
[Divine Mana: 0.2 / 150]
[Synchronization: 49.0% (LOCKED)]
He was awake, but his mind was drifting. The rot wasn't just outside the ship; it was trying to seep into his thoughts. Whenever he closed his eyes, he didn't see the ceiling or the flickering mana-lanterns. He saw the abyss.
"Niisan, you're dreaming again," Haru's voice was a soft anchor.
