"Bring Naren back."
Vera continuously ordered the same command. Over and over, she repeated it. But nothing. The walls didn't shift, no hands formed, no Naren.
Her legs wobbled slightly as the reality slowly set in. She had no fighting capabilities and her only lifeline was nowhere in sight. With a plop Vera fell to her knees. Wishing that she could just wake up from this nightmare.
Bodies scattered about the room. Some charred, others slashed, but all in agony. Among them, only five were left standing. Vera and Iris were the miracles of the bunch, somehow left standing due to sheer luck alone.
Before her, two were mauling each other like beasts.
A tall muscular girl with short disheveled hair lunged with her blade. Her body was already past the breaking point. An earlier stab wound to her liver was crudely covered by cloth. The warm sensation pooling in the makeshift bandage with every minor twist.
A small tag labeled "Siobhan." Fluttered in the air.
A tall built man with a gouged out eye dodged Siobhan's attack. Twisting his body unnaturally to get under her blade. He kicked upwards, intercepting her hand. As he fell back his left hand slammed against the floor hard. Grip tightening around his bloody dagger.
Jax's right hand laid out before Vera on the floor. Pooling in blood, still warm, almost unaware it was disconnected from the rest of him.
Jax pushed his shoulders back and threw his legs down on the floor, rising to his feet. His body was screaming at him to stop. To just stay down. It was too much for him. Way too much. He spoke through gritted teeth.
"What...did I ever...do to you."
Silence.
His right hand was a broken faucet constantly leaking dark red. His legs wobbled as they pleaded with him. Silently Jax's eye landed on Siobhan. An earnest hatred dancing in it.
Siobhan took a step forward. Then another. Each step was another streak of pain that radiated throughout her whole body. Yet, her head was clear. While her pain receptors were going off, her brain continued to ignore it.
"Do you really not recall?"
Tears brimmed in her eyes. Her heart ached. Like an arm went in and grabbed it, pulling on it vicariously and relentlessly. Though, it wasn't from the pain. It was from her actions. The very act of hurting another human was enough to break her soul.
This was no different. Despite the deep wells of fury in her soul. Siobhan could not act against her spite, no matter how steeled her resolve was.
Jax's knees buckled. He stumbled back, barely catching himself. The pressure of standing up was now hitting his knees like mallets.
"I don't. I don't even know who you are damn it."
Siobhan raised her blade high, tears streaming down her face. The glint of the blade ricochet off the feint glow Iris had miraculously kept going.
Jax pulled his leg to the side to dodge. It wouldn't move. It couldn't. His body was beginning to shut, the blood in his system nearing its limit. His eyes flickered in the dim room, staring at the blade swinging right at his brain.
Then it stopped. Merely inches away from Jax's nose. Enough to smell the cold metal of the dull blade.
"You're not Musashi's flaw."
Siobhan's grip loosened. The cold steel blade slipping out and landing with a sharp clatter. Silence filled the room as the sword's vibrations came to a stop.
"You're a fake."
He body wobbled as her eyes squinted, pushing out the rest of the tears.
"I hurt all these people."
Her voice was very small. Not directed at Jax. Not directed at anyone.
"And you weren't even him."
Her body went before she finished the sentence. Her eyelids fell like a flowing petal in the wind. Her body going limp as it fell back with a thud. It finally gave in.
Only breathing could be heard in the hollow silence of the room. Heavy, exasperated, yearned breathing.
Jax had survived. The very last of his consciousness waning alongside his vision. The room turned into three rooms, all colliding and dancing in his eye. Slowly his gaze turned towards the last two survivors.
He slowly pulled himself to his feet, picking up Siobhan's sword. Blood spurting out of his right arm, or what was left of it at least. He tried taking a step. It was deep and heavy. Every fiber of his muscles objecting.
He took one small step. Barely. Breathing getting more and more hollow.
Vera held onto her dagger, tightening her grip. She hoped that Siobhan would've taken care of Jax. She seemed to care only about Jax so Vera thought that she might leave them alone. But this wasn't bad. Vera could still make use of this.
'Not here. I won't die.'
The concept of being magically healed after the exam had all but left all credibility. Even if the nurse was capable, how capable could she be. Can she heal an arm? Mend an organ? It was all too ambiguous.
Iris, behind Vera, was still cowering. Her pride just as bruised as her. She was able to stay alive solely because without her light nobody could fight. Cowering behind a little girl, being left for convenience sake. She was pitiful. She felt pitiful.
Jax's body ironed out before them like harrowing corpse. His eyes gazed at them coldly. The pressure of survival emanating, radiating off him.
Vera's whole body was yelling at her to run. And she wanted to do nothing more than that. But, to where? Where in this castle could she possibly hide. She was in a nightmare. Ever since she got on this boat, ever since she met Naren, ever since she woke up three months ago. She's been in an endless nightmare.
"Don't-don't move Jax."
The little girl plunged her dagger at the tall man. Only for it to be swatted away by a haphazard swing of his arms. What happened? He shouldn't be able to move.
The corner of Vera's eyes captured something. The crown was rolling on the ground right beside her, no longer on her head. When did it fall?
Jax's mouth never opened. He was too tired. Too tired to think, too tired to speak. Even now, keeping his ground was more exhausting than anything he'd ever done.
His eyes rippled. His grip on his blade tightened. His arm moved mechanically, like a rusted machine.
Suddenly, Jax's body jolted and fell limp. Flowing to the floor in a ragdoll fashion. Behind his body, a short girl held a bloody chunk of the wall in her hand. Heavy breaths escaped her mouth. Pained and tumultuous.
The girl from the lineup. The one with curly hair who'd stood in the back row calculating something unpleasant. She was here the whole time.
Her head was bleeding and her body was bruised. She was pretty sure her left hand was broken. But she survived.
The two girl's eyes met momentarily. Both terrified, both on guard. But neither moved.
"I...don't wanna fight."
Vera sighed in relief, finally able to normalize her breathing. Behind her, Iris finally fell to her knees., tears streaming down her face. In front of her, the curly haired girl followed suit. The nightmare had ended.
The three girls just sat by each other not saying a word. That was what they needed the most right now. Silence. Fifteen minutes. The whole massacre lasted no more than fifteen minutes after Naren dissappeared. In that time ninety-seven privates fell. In that time, only three girls remained. Barely in tact. Now they deserved at least that. At least a few minuted of respite. Of silence. Of nothing.
Three minutes into their break, the doors opened. A tall lanky figure with dark glasses walking in. Something was different about him though. He walked holding his ribs slightly, and his ear, it was...gone. Like something bit it off.
With him, he dragged a limp body. A boy with dark red curly hair converging into black tips, wearing a crimson scarf cradled around his neck.
Vera's eyes widened when she saw the red tinge of the scarf. A ball of anxiety welling in her chest. She didn't care for Naren's life particularly. She barely knew him. But she needed him. He was supposed to get her to the Tomb. To take her to Atlas.
"Coongraaatss. Yoooouuu aaaaalll paaasssss."
Stone grinded on stone as the wall's of the castle slowly withdrew themselves. With it, letting in slight the rays of sun that nestled its way past the deep fog.
A stray one hit Vera like a shot of stimulants. Jolting her previously sluggish and anguished body back to life. A nightmare, that's what it truly felt like. Everything that happened was nothing more than a nightmare.
With the castle now completely returned to its dormant position as a combat facility, the rest of the ship was now in view. It felt empty without the dozens of privates walking around but in its place brought a resounding feeling of peace.
Vera's nightmare was now truly over.
It was over.
So why hadn't she woken up yet?
Right in front of the ship, a singular giant black sphere floated in a sea of white. An eye. Gargantuan — the size of a house — pupil dilated wide. It shifted, slowly, tracking movement across the deck.
It fixed on Vera.
The little girl standing at the ship's center. Dagger trembling in her hand. The eye twitched. Slight. Erratic. Like something struggling to focus through water. Aimless and intent all at once.
The ship didn't move. It couldn't. Suspended hundreds of meters above the black water, cradled in hands that weren't hands. Rusted metal fingers, thick as a mast, held them gently — almost tender — the way you'd hold something fragile.
Or something you planned to crush.
Metal creaked. Not wood. Not bone. The low groan of ancient steel bearing weight it had carried for centuries. Barnacles crusted along the knuckles, where seams between plated sections had rusted into uneven ridges. The surface was pitted, corroded, patched with metals that didn't match — like something built and rebuilt and built again over lifetimes.
The eye didn't blink. Not that it even could, there was no lid. Just the wet surface reflecting the stray rays of sunlight, reflecting Vera, reflecting nothing at all.
Somewhere far below, in the depths where light didn't reach, the rest of it waited. A body of impossible metal. A thing that should have sunk but didn't.