Aaron's eyes drooped as he listened to the sound of the ocean, taking in the gentle noise it created.
His goal to get an artifact that would entice even Cauron Thorn was pushed far back into a corner of his mind as he spaced out.
Contrary to normal, Aaron's joyful appearance had softened, with a low frown now sprawled across his face.
Deep inside, he knew that something had been wrong with him for a while.
After the Ghostship had departed the island of Corvassa, he had walked ever-so-quietly down into Eleanor's sleeping quarters.
Her eyes were shut tight without even so much as a single strand of hair out of place, with the brown-haired Marshal's promise fulfilled.
It brought him a solitary moment of happiness; however, as soon as it had come, it vanished.
As if struck by an insurmountable wave of fatigue, he collapsed on the spot, drifting away into the depths of his dreams.
It was silent in the chamber as hours passed, waves lapping against the thick wooden hull of the mythical ship.
He hadn't told the blue crustacean where or what his mission was; however, as if it could read his thoughts, it had charted a course northbound.
Towards danger and death, the prison of terrors as old as the world itself, a hell on earth.
The Abyss.
Of course, the crab hadn't directly planned to enter the waters of that sea, with only the outskirts being fine with him.
Aaron had no say in the matter as he tossed and turned in his sleep with the wooden boards beneath his back digging into his flesh.
An uncertain amount of time passed before the blond boy's head rushed upward, sweat dripping from his forehead as his breath was ragged and cold.
"T-That nightmare again…"
Exactly like before, the icicle-coated creature sat alone inside its box without even a sliver of emotion reflecting off its surface.
The chilling moments that preluded his frigid death haunted him endlessly, dragging his mind into a deeper state of distress and panic.
During Penelope's occasional startles from her slumber, she tried to reassure him with her calm, relaxed voice.
Some days it helped, while others it only brought him deeper into the depths of his own self-loathing.
Why was he the one to bear the burden of the Ghostship?
What reason did he have for saving Eleanor?
Who was he?
There were no answers for those questions, and he suspected there wouldn't be for quite some time.
Even without the ominous voices of the Apex of Life hounding his thoughts, there was still the feeling of his emotions being tangled in a net of some kind.
He didn't know if this net was one of his own making or rather one meant to suffocate him with the concept of his own mortality.
For days on end, he didn't leave the bedroom, not even bothering to eat, fish, or even ramble to Mr. Crab about what he hated about the world.
Aaron Grimstall was lost, and there wasn't anyone left who could tug him back to the crushing reality that stood before him.
Nobody except for one man.
…
You will die.
The word's etched into the ethereal mirror centered perfectly in the pitch-black void that existed outside of time and space.
Turquoise butterflies sparkled and soared through the darkness, illuminating bubbles of black goo that held together the warped image.
And in the midst of it all, Aaron sat flat-faced and empty while staring at the hollow projection of the Old Man before him.
His chains had loosened slightly, as if his freedom was only a matter of time, yet in the process, his features had aged dramatically.
There was no way to tell how long he had lived, nor how long he would continue to live.
He was the only constant, unchanging entity in the blond boy's life whom he had placed his trust in twice.
The man had never betrayed him or left him gravely injured outside of the spatial rift where they spoke.
It was the most stable relationship Aaron could have and one that left much to be desired for the teenage boy.
So as the two stared at each other, sitting face-to-face, the Old Man opened his mouth first to speak with a low growl.
"You have come far since the last time we spoke."
His powerful words reverberated around the darkness, making the butterflies that drifted around aimlessly flash with a beautiful magenta and turquoise hue.
Aaron only nodded, staring solemnly into the reflection without a word spoken to the god-like being before him.
"The inheritance of two cores has gone well. The core of an Iktomi and a Ningyo will serve you well during your initial growth. However, the full potential of either is still sealed behind the limits of your imagination."
The words oozed with pressure, making the blond boy shrink lower in front of the man's aura, feeling his sheer force once again.
Bones groaning and skin tearing echoed from within his body, but unlike before, he did not bend and break.
For this time, he was stronger and would not be immediately crushed by the gravity of the man's words.
"Interesting. Perhaps Camilla Buckley, who has accompanied you, taught you more than I have… How disappointing that she didn't remove that parasite attached to your soul, though."
With a flick of his wrist, a mind-numbing fracturing pain exploded through Aaron's skull, threatening to burst even blood vessels in his face.
The agony was worse than even what he felt in death, with pieces of his very soul being extracted in an instant
Then, nothing.
Within seconds, the suffering vanished, leaving the boy only to gasp for the non-existent air that was supposed to fill the void.
The weight on his shoulders lessened, and his heartbeat flurried with fresh pulses of blood pumping through his body.
Subconsciously, he realized that the entire time since drinking that cursed bottle of liquor that contained the fragment of the Apex of Life, he had been dying.
In the most secret and hidden depths of his body, that creature worked away at his existence, stealing his very lifeforce as if it were its own.
The thought infuriated him; however, the sound of strange gasps to his right interrupted him, causing him to spin around.
Standing before him on two human legs, with two human arms, and one human head, was a creature.
Its curved eyes were orange with black slits for pupils as its amber hair pooled down over its forehead.
His height was nearly the same as Aaron's, yet his build was incredible compared to that of the average man.
Thick muscles pulsated under the flesh with strange black goo oozing from various scrapes or gashes spread across its body.
The man tried to open his mouth; however, not a single sound came out, as if being suppressed by the void itself.
Inside the mirror, the Old Man let out a chuckle before responding coldly.
"This is a Naelith. Quite respectable creatures when they still swim the seas, if I can say so myself."
He paused for a moment, watching as the amber-haired creature examined itself, then the man behind the mirror.
It froze as it truly studied and absorbed the sheer presence of the Old Man, knowing that something even beyond its own limits stood before it.
"They are solitary creatures who tend to hibernate in the rifts between the dimensions, feeding off the lifeforce of dying universes."
There was a twitch on the orange-eyed terror's face as it heard the man's words, fully understanding his speech and hating every second of it.
"This one here was vanquished about fifty years ago, and its body was stripped down into pieces and distributed to various regions."
Another violent spasm struck the Apex as it struggled against the void until swarms of turquoise and magenta butterflies consumed its form.
"I'd estimate you have only consumed about one tenth of his core, practically a drop in the bucket; however, that tiny piece you gambled for ended up being the one with the heart of his subconscious inside of it."
Aaron's eyes blinked repeatedly in confusion as he was bombarded with the rush of information, fearing that if he got distracted even for a moment, he would miss something.
"With this in mind, he will stop at nothing to kill you and fully take over your body. If such an event occurred, you would lose control over your Ghostship and die a horrible death. The end."
His words were followed by a wrinkled smile, obviously not aligned with his own words, that gave the blond boy a slight heart attack.
"Anyway, boy. This is not why you wanted to speak to me, correct? I would be very much displeased if it were for such a petty errand as the extermination of a weakling sea terror without so much as half its strength."
The iron-chestplate wrapped around him pulsed with wave-like imagery, making Aaron swallow hard, finally gathering the courage to stand and face the man.
Strength coursed through him at the mere thought of having such power, giving him the ability to open his mouth and utter the words he had wanted to say from the start.
"I need you to help me kill a high-level terror."