Aaron stared through the thin glass panel that separated his own room from the blonde-haired girl whom he had made it his mission to save.
Her pulse was steady, vitals normal in almost every regard, with only one glaring exception that had caused a commotion.
Individuals are commonly born with little to no mana, making their bodies more resistant to healing magic; therefore, tests must be run to determine every patient's aptitude.
When Eleanor Lynn reached this stage of the medical process, a disaster struck the hospital.
The moment the meter was connected to her chest, an eruption of pure divine energy surged out, blanketing an entire kilometer in range.
Other devices short-circuited, radios burst into flames, and storms brewed high in the sky without any warning.
For this was the power that a god would imprint into a mortal, a single trace garnered by a glance obliterated human technology in an instant.
Aaron had heard this story from Cam, who had shown him her room, a pang of guilt in the back of his mind as he remembered where she had received such dangerous mana.
At least she visited before Naelith took his place… But still… A god inside my head? How the hell does that even work?
Scratching his head impatiently, he thought deeper into this odd turn of events that still plagued his subconscious to this very day.
Hmm… The Old Man told me not to invoke the name of a god or else I'll be killed, so how about this…
With a smile creeping across his face, he decided firmly on something he had been planning for a while.
Whatever attacked Eleanor is what is restricting my memories. Therefore, I'll refer to it as Mr. Memory. I'm sure Mr. Crab would approve…
Realizing in a short flicker of surprise that he hadn't seen the crustacean in a while, he turned his gaze downward to his scarred hand.
The turquoise ring had darkened slightly, the gemstone turning a sickly black with a lack of mana.
Using the residual power from his new prosthesis, he dripped a fragment of energy into the jewel.
For a second, there was nothing but silence; however, the sizzling pain burned through his hand, the memory of his first acquisition returning to him.
D-DAMMIT! NOT AGAIN!
With his impeccable injury record topping even that of vanguard soldiers in a raging war, Aaron was used to severe pain, yet even he wouldn't wish to feel it again.
So as he walked through the hallway, grimacing, any doctor who passed by would wonder about the strange, crippled boy.
His own movement was sloppy, a result of his new limb; however, as he continued onward, he slowly adjusted to its uniqueness.
To the blond boy, he would usually be embarrassed by such a fact; however, with everything that had happened in the past six months, he sighed deeply.
I need to retire young and buy a fishing pier…
…
After hailing a carriage and spending the last of the precious change that Cam had given him, he arrived at the docks.
Like always, he was in worse condition than he had been when he had first arrived, and now, he had to summon a massive vessel under the gaze of at least a hundred sailors.
C'mon Cam… You promised a distraction…
His eyes darted around the pier towards the central clock tower, a building that towered over the city.
The time was nearly evening on October 1st, the workday coming to a close, and the nightshifts beginning soon.
Yet, at the very last moment before the clock struck five, a noise that shattered the sound barrier erupted from the tower.
Slamming her dagger against her sheath, the Marshal of Ancients had created a sonic boom that instantly turned the heads of all citizens in hearing distance.
Not wasting a moment, Aaron tapped his fingers quickly against his ring, summoning the Ghostship into the port while everyone was too startled to pay attention to him.
Praying that his vessel was disguised as a normal fishing boat, he leaped aboard the forming ship, nearly falling through its illusory form.
With his body hitting against the burnt and shattered wooden deck, he hurriedly looked down from the edge, making sure there were no spectators.
His eyes caught on a small parfait shop, one where a mother and daughter were holding their drinks and talking.
The older woman had her gaze up in the sky; however, the little girl was staring directly at the boy, mouth agape.
Aaron sighed in relief, looking at the girl closely and grabbing her attention with a quick movement of his hand.
Then, in a gesture that the blond boy had thought would make him look cool, he held his finger against his lips.
"Shhh…"
Smiling gently, he turned away, missing the child's confused face as she immediately turned to her mother.
"Mommy. That weird man has an invisible boat!"
The woman turned her gaze to her daughter, smiling playfully while following the child's eyes towards Aaron's vessel.
Laughing lightly, she held her child's hand, speaking quietly.
"No, dear. Ships don't turn invisible. Not even the Sea Kings have invisible Ghostships!"
While the mother turned her gaze back to her meal, the little girl watched as the fishing vessel departed the dock, slowly sailing away into the distance.
Aaron, who had returned to his burnt and ruined cabin, placed his hand atop the desk, inspecting the map that had magically returned to its place.
The edges were slightly singed; however, overall, it was almost perfectly restored.
In total, the Ghostship itself looked like it had seen better days, with broken planks and the smell of burnt wood coursing through the area.
Deciding to search for the parchment he had been holding when the Apex appeared, he scoured the room carefully.
"Where is that damn piece of—"
His face paled as he stared at the ground, the formerly white piece of paper covered in a sticky black solution.
Exactly like when he first found the mysterious paper, the text on it had faded away, erased by the strange substance that surrounded it.
How strange… Was this the doing of Mr. Crab? Or was it something else…
Thinking back to the turquoise mist that had overcome him when he had seen the Sea King, he stroked his hair back and forth.
"Eh, I should really get some rest…"
An odd wave of fatigue had overcome him as he began to delve into the mysteries of his own mind, his bed seeming like the best escape in this tiring journey.
Cam said it'll take about eight days to get to the Bay of Thorn… Maybe I'll faint for another week and it'll be over soon…
Making his way down the ladder and into his cabin, he fell into the soft sheets that smelled like smoke.
With his eyelids already drooping, he had no time to undress his gear or even change into nightclothes.
Darkness overcame his vision as he passed out, fatigue winning out over his own will to stay awake and clean himself up.
…
"Get out of my head."
The blond boy was monotone with his words as he stared at the frost-covered creature whose chains had shattered into millions of pieces.
Its mythical presence had expanded to such a crushing degree that without the dreamscape, Aaron would've been subdued instantly.
Yet even when faced with a being of immeasurable power, he did not buckle or yield.
He stood firm, watching the creature's scaly form ooze with black sludge, only to freeze right away.
Its straight, bluish-white hair tingled with snowflakes as it circled the blond boy, watching him intently yet not decreasing the distance between them.
Aaron, however, dared to move, readjusting himself to face the humanoid beast regardless of where it moved.
"For weeks, you have dug into my dreams. I might be an idiot, but I'm not stupid enough to not realize that you aren't simply a nightmare."
He paused, taking an icy breath before continuing.
"You are a sea terror, are you not?"
Standing still, he waited for a response, unsure whether this monster could speak like it did before.
There was a thick, unending silence that covered the blank space for minutes, and the treacherous pacing of the man continued.
However, when the humanoid reached the place where its chains had shattered, it bent over, running the dusty rock through its palm.
Then, in a quiet voice, it spoke.
"Adept. You are adept."
Its voice sounded like nails against a chalkboard, an awful screech serenading Aaron's eardrums.
For a moment, he felt a rare warmth as crimson liquid dripped from his orifices, the creature's mere response threatening to collapse his astral form.
"You are correct, human. I am a terror."
It paused, watching the boy nearly double over in pain at the horrendous noise echoing from its throat.
When it spoke again, it had adjusted its speech slightly, enough to prevent the blond boy from exiting the space early.
"You are only the second to notice me in your world. You are not a part of those wretched Architects but instead the Era of Kings. Who are you to witness me in this form?"
Curiosity oozed from the shirtless man's form, Aaron's mind being subjected to the feeling of a thousand sets of eyes gazing at him.
H-He doesn't know who I am? In that case, what if I…
His cold breath was visible in front of him as he responded, the warmth of his own blood already frozen and gone.
"Tell me, terror, do you wish to hear a fable?"
There was a silence after his words, the creature's head visibly calculating the possibility of its interests being subsided from a mortal's tale.
"What use to me is a human story? Throughout the eons of my existence, I have snuffed out countless societies, erased endless worlds, and conquered the World Tree itself. What could you have to offer me?"
Aaron's heart exploded in a burst of fear as the monster listed its accomplishments, with words beyond his understanding.
Forcing himself to straighten his posture, he prepared to deliver a hook so intriguing that even gods would wish to listen.
"Have you heard of the God Slayer, perhaps?"