Chapter 9
15 minutes
[30 minutes earlier]
Uncle's Perspective
The uncle was running down a hallway, drenched in dark blood that was already turning lilac. His uniform was torn in several places, with cuts and bruises on both his face and legs.
At his side, a brown-haired girl, shorter than him, was running as well. She had a revolver in her right hand, another pistol at her waist, and a sword hanging from her left side. She was in the same state as the uncle: wounded, worn out, but not slowing down.
As they advanced, they opened doors one after another.
Some revealed empty rooms.
Others showed wrecked interiors, with doors ripped out.
In some, the holes went from the inside out, as if something had exploded to escape.
In others, the holes were reversed: as if something monstrous had broken in from outside.
The worst were those rooms where the marine cryptids lurked.
In such situations, the girl stopped in the doorway, drew her weapon, and fired without hesitation. Depending on who opened the door, one of the two would leap back to clear the shooting angle.
Then the uncle would rush inside, in a low, swift stance. If the bullets didn't kill the monster, his flaming sword would cleave it in two. If it was only left wounded, he finished it mercilessly.
But sometimes the noise attracted more beasts from nearby rooms, forcing them to repeat the strategy again and again.
Until they felt it.
A different kind of cold. Not like the chill that seeped from the closed rooms, but an icy wind that carried drops of salt water and dragged with it echoes of the sea: distant roars, the creak of waves, the thunder of a storm.
Both tensed, adopting defensive stances and slowing their pace. The air grew damper, colder, and with each step they could feel droplets of water on their faces, carried by the breeze. At some point, they stopped opening doors.
Then they saw it.
A lightning strike lit the corridor, revealing the largest hole yet: as if something had torn away a room's wall and, with the same force, pierced the ship's hull.
The uncle peeked first, taking in the wreckage inside the room. The girl, however, looked outward.
The darkness of the sea opened before her: rain lashing down, furious waves crashing against the hull. A bleak, almost melancholic sight.
Her gaze dropped slightly, first intrigued by the waves' impact… until she saw something that froze her.
A young man, no older than eighteen, was hanging from a bent piece of metal at the hull's edge. He was bleeding, struggling not to fall into the void.
The girl immediately turned to the uncle and alerted him.
He ran without hesitation. But when he saw the boy, his eyes widened with a clash of emotions.
—Kaep… Sorry… Eilor!
He dropped to the ground, stretching out his hand to reach him. The girl was about to offer to climb down herself, but froze when she saw something that paralyzed her.
A thunderclap roared, and with it, the silhouette of something colossal was outlined in the distance.
A gigantic shadow floating in the storm. Its shape resembled that of a whale… but with tentacles instead of a tail. Tentacles and… arms?
The girl's heart stopped for an instant.
The uncle's shout brought her back into action. She leapt forward and grabbed one of his legs, giving him stability as he stretched farther and farther.
Eilor, despite his bloodied, slippery hands cut by the metal, managed to grasp the uncle's hand.
Together, with desperate effort, they hauled him aboard.
Once on deck, the three of them panted heavily. The worst off was Eilor: the blood loss, the cold, and the shock had left him weak, though still standing.
The uncle held him by the arm and helped him up.
For a moment, he and the girl exchanged a silent look. The decision was clear: the uncle would take Eilor to the other rescued. But before moving, something made him stop.
He turned to her.
—Why did you hesitate to help me?
The girl averted her gaze, faltered, but finally raised her head with resolve.
—I saw a shadow. A massive shadow falling from a great height. —She pointed at the hull's hole where they had rescued Eilor.— It fell in that direction.
The uncle followed her gesture with his eyes. He mentally pictured what lay in that part of the ship. His face hardened, worry surfacing like a blade of ice—almost fear.
He inhaled deeply through his nose and exhaled, controlling the tension. Beneath his uniform, a faint light lit up on his shoulder, as if responding to his calm. He remained still for a few seconds, Eilor still leaning against his back.
Finally, he spoke:
—Go down through that hole —he gestured with his chin at the gash in the room's floor.— I need you to check if the jolt we felt affected the engines.
The girl looked at him, then at the hole, and back at him.
Before she could respond, Eilor murmured in a broken voice:
—Jolt… yes, I felt it too, earlier… just when I was waking up…
The boy turned toward the sea. It started as just a glance, but soon his gaze fixed there. The girl and the uncle noticed and followed his line of sight.
Then they saw it.
A gigantic wave, larger than any natural one, was bearing down on the ship.
The uncle, the girl, and Eilor pressed themselves against what was left of the corridor wall.
The impact came.
First, a brutal jolt.
Then a rending creak, like metal splitting from below.
Another jolt.
A third, worse than the previous ones, that hurled them to the floor.
The uncle and the girl barely managed to keep their balance, but strangely, Eilor resisted better than they did—except when the tilt grew so steep he had to take quick steps not to fall.
When at last everything calmed, the girl took a deep breath.
—I'll go.
The uncle nodded.
—Don't try anything reckless. If you have to run, run.
She inclined her head in agreement, drew her weapon, and stepped into the next room.
The floor hole spanned two full decks. The third was flooded, though not completely collapsed. She descended carefully and landed among the bodies of marine cryptids, the stench of them saturating the air.
She pressed on. With each step, the metallic screech of pipes and the echo of water marked her path.
—I'm close… —she whispered to herself.
But as she advanced, the scene grew more macabre. At first, just a couple of cryptid corpses. Then more, and more. Until she came upon something worse: five human bodies half-transformed, their limbs twisted into marine aberrations, half man, half beast.
Her stomach turned, but she didn't stop.
She pushed open a door and stepped onto a metal balcony with rusted railings. From there she could see a hall three stories tall. The air shook with booms, steam, and the screech of strained machinery.
She approached the railing—and then she saw it.
A human figure sprawled on the floor.
And beside it, a monstrous cryptid, massive, with six deformed limbs.
She recognized him instantly.
—Körper…
The redhead.
She clenched her teeth. Raised her weapon, recalling the uncle's words: "Don't try anything reckless."
She wavered. Her finger trembled on the trigger.
But then a light shone beneath her uniform, right at her collarbone. The same light she had seen on the uncle.
The doubt vanished.
She fired.
---
[Laios' Perspective]
[10 minutes earlier]
—Repeat what you told me in the hallway —Laios asked, serious, his gaze fixed on Eilor.
—A red-haired man fell into the water… with a fish cryptid. —Eilor hesitated as he said it, as if he still didn't believe his own words.
Laios lowered his head, clasping his hands together.
—Kaep… Eilor. There's only one red-haired person on this ship, remember?
Eilor frowned.
—Körper Picke?
—That's right.
Silence fell between them again.
—Do you think that…? —Eilor left the question hanging.
Laios inhaled deeply, then exhaled with the weight of someone who had already accepted the worst.
—It's possible.
The reply struck like a dry hammer blow. Eilor didn't answer. Silence grew thick, broken only by the distant creak of the ship and the pounding of the storm against the hull.
—Uncle… —Eilor's voice pulled him out of that void.
They were in a large room, almost improvised as both infirmary and command post. There were tables, cases with alchemy equipment, stacked weapons, and in one corner several bodies covered with blankets.
Eilor's hands were bandaged, and gauze covered the cuts on his face, legs, and arms. Laios wore similar bandages, as did some of the other survivors present in the room.
Eilor lowered his gaze, doubt heavy on his face.
—What exactly happened, uncle?
—Don't you know? —Laios asked.
The boy shook his head.
—I think I was unconscious. When I woke up… the first thing I saw was a spear made of coral and a fish cryptid before me.
Laios studied him, weighing both his words and the mix of worry and confusion in his eyes. He took a deep breath and made his decision.
—Fine. I'll tell you. What I know, but quickly. —He leaned forward, lowering his voice.
Eilor tensed, alert.
Laios swallowed hard.
—What happened was…