The Twilight (Twenty to Thirty Years Ago)
Martinez was inspecting the helm and noticed something was wrong. "Captain, the response time of the rudder to the helm is delayed by almost a second."
Chris got up from his chair and inspected the helm himself. "Since when did you notice this delay?" he asked as he tested the helm.
"Just now, Captain. Should we halt our voyage till we get it repaired?" Martinez asked and suggested to Chris.
Chris looks at the bridge's digital clock. "No, it's a minor problem; the delay is not so significant. Stay in the middle and just go on a straight line. We can fix the problem in Kaginhawaan."
"Aye, Captain!" Martinez replied, taking his station at the helm.
Chris took his seat in the captain's chair. After making a glance at the monitors on his panel, he gave his order: "Full reverse, move the ship astern till we are free of the port."
Once the Twilight was speeding its way to Kaginhawaan, Chris got up from his chair. "Martinez, you have the bridge. Reyes, you're on the helm."
Chris then exited the bridge and went to the observation deck. After a few minutes, a little voice called to him, catching his attention. "Captain! Captain! Look, Chief Bustamante gave me a balloon." She showed the bright pink balloon she had.
The two played and laughed on the observation deck for what seemed like forever. The two were sitting and sipping on their iced teas when Murillo and Martinez arrived. "I need to talk to those two, so just stay here, okay?" Princess only nodded as she was still sipping her iced tea through a straw.
The bridge crew was busy with their duties, every eye fixed on the horizon as the Twilight sailed through the mist-shrouded river. Suddenly, Chief Bustamante's voice cut sharply through the quiet. "Reyes, you're veering dangerously close to the shallow bank. Adjust your heading ten degrees to starboard, now!"
"Aye, sir!" the helmsman responded, hands gripping the wheel with urgency. The ship groaned softly as it shifted course, but the delay between helm and rudder was growing ominous.
Chris's attention snapped to the railings where Princess was climbing with carefree innocence. "Princess, get down from there!" he warned, his voice tight with concern.
But it was too late. The sluggish response of the rudder betrayed them—the Twilight lurched violently as it struck the shallow bank. The impact shook the entire vessel, the steel beams creaking ominously beneath their feet.
Chris's heart stopped as he saw Princess lose her grip. "PRINCESS!!" he screamed, lunging forward, but he was a second too late. The little girl slipped from sight, swallowed by the swirling, dark waters of the Kasanaan.
Without hesitation, Chris climbed over the railing, desperate to save her, but strong hands seized him. Murillo and Martinez held him back, their grip firm but trembling.
"Captain, what are you doing?!" Martinez's voice was edged with panic as he clutched Chris's abdomen tightly.
"Let go! Princess! I have to save her!" Chris struggled fiercely, every fiber of his being screaming to dive into the abyss.
"Captain!" Murillo's voice was urgent but filled with sorrow. "It's too late. There's nothing we can do. The Kasanaan has claimed her. She's gone… we can't bring her back."
Chris's body froze, the devastating truth crashing over him like a tidal wave. He broke free from their grasp, hands gripping the rails as his eyes searched the churning waters. The river bubbled and roared, but there was no sign of her.
His voice was hollow, broken by grief. "Go back to your posts."
Murillo stepped closer, her voice gentle. "I'll stay with you, if that's alright…"
But Chris cut her off sharply, his gaze never leaving the dark river. "I said, get back to your posts!" he barked, the pain in his eyes eclipsed only by the emptiness in his soul.
2025 (Cargo Bay One)
Martinez sighed deeply, his eyes distant as he recalled the moments after the accident. "Chief Murillo and I had no choice but to leave him alone. We wanted to comfort him, but the captain shut us out completely. He needed space—he was drowning in his own guilt." He paused, shaking his head. "When he found out that the rudder delay caused the accident, his temper exploded. He blamed himself—every bit of it. The loss of Princess tore something inside him, something he's never been able to fix."
Cecilia nodded slowly, her voice soft but steady. "That kind of pain… it changes a person. No wonder he's so harsh—he's carrying that burden alone." She glanced at the stacked wine bottles, then back at Martinez. "If it were me, I don't know if I'd be any different."
Martinez looked at her, searching for understanding. "Do you see now why he acts the way he does? He's tough, sure, but that loss broke him. Losing Princess wasn't just losing a child—it was like a piece of his soul was ripped away and swallowed by the Kasanaan."
Cecilia's fingers tightened around the clipboard as she checked the papers, her brow furrowing. "I think I'm beginning to understand him better." She glanced toward Martinez, voice lowering. "I heard gossip that part of his power faded with the girl. Is that true?"
Martinez nodded. "Yes, it was only after the accident did we realized that the captain unwillingly transferred part of his energy to Princess. Since that day, the captain's strength has waned."
Curious but cautious, Cecilia asked, "What happens when a captain reaches the end of their duty?"
Martinez hesitated, then deflected, "Nothing to worry about now. Let's focus on these stocks—Murillo will have our heads if we don't finish before the next shift."
Cecilia didn't press further; for now, the work demanded her attention. Still, the image of a broken captain, haunted and fading, lingered in her mind.
After several hours, Martinez finally locked the cargo bay door with a tired sigh. "Thanks for the help, Miss Bermudez. Who knows how long it would've taken without you." He took the clipboard from Cecilia with a grateful nod.
Cecilia smiled faintly. "It's good to do something useful on this ship besides singing every night," she teased, catching a brief grin from Martinez.
The helmsman's voice broke through the moment. "Don't you have a performance tonight? The gold bar opens in two hours—you should start getting ready."
"I've got some time," Cecilia replied softly. "I think I'll take a short walk before I prepare." She gave him a reassuring smile.
"Alright, don't forget to wave at me later—I'll brag to the bridge crew that I know you." Martinez chuckled before heading off, adding, "I think Chief Murillo's already hunting for the inventory."
Cecilia watched him go, then turned toward the gold deck. The vibrant lights flickered on, and lively music spilled into the corridors, mingling with laughter and the hum of merriment. Faces around her shone with joy, but the warmth felt distant to her.
She decided it was time to ready herself to join the festivities. Yet, as she passed the stairs leading to the observation deck, an unexplainable pull stopped her. Without hesitation, she climbed the steps, seeking a moment away from the noise.
At the top, she found Chris leaning heavily against the railing, his gaze fixed on the dark waters of the Kasanaan below. The weight in his posture spoke volumes—silent sorrow etched into every line of his body.
Cecilia's breath caught. She wanted to turn away, to leave him to his solitude, but something held her still. In that quiet space, she began to see the man behind the captain's stern facade—the tragic figure shaped by loss and burden. She understood, finally, why he returned here again and again: this was the place where he lost the child who had once made him smile, the child who had softened his hardened heart.