The deck of the Kashima Maru was no longer just steel and salt. To Ren Hanshin's eyes, it was a mess of vibrant, terrifying colors. The grey mist of the ocean was still there, but it was being sliced apart by thin, shimmering lines of crimson that only he could see. Every time he breathed, he felt the air catch on a thousand invisible needles.
Ren lay flat on his back, the cold metal pressing against his spine. He couldn't move. Not because his muscles were broken, though they were, but because his body no longer felt like it belonged to him. It felt like a marionette being held up by wires that were too tight.
[Synchronization: 49.9% (CRITICAL)]
[Divine Mana: 5.0 / 150 (RECOVERING)]
[Status: The Weaver's Mark]
"Ren! Ren, talk to me!" Tanaka was kneeling beside him, his hands hovering over Ren's chest.
