William stood in silence, thoughts still circling in his head. Then, after a few seconds, he turned to Dovak.

  “Hey,” he muttered.

  Dovak glanced at him. “What’s up?”

  William hesitated for a brief moment before speaking.

  “…Could you teach me how to fight?”

  A grin spread across Dovak’s face.

  “Of course! First lesson—train your lower body. You need to be rooted to the ground, stable in any situation.” His voice suddenly took on the commanding tone of an instructor. “We’ll start with weighted squats—at least a hundred kilos on your back. Then, you’ll do fifty vertical jumps, clearing at least half a meter—preferably a meter and a half—every time…”

  William’s face paled slightly as Dovak drowned him in an avalanche of training instructions.

  Meanwhile, Layla and Lars made their way toward the spot where James was before disintegrating.

  Layla’s expression was unreadable as she stared at the crimson-stained ground.

  “I never thought he’d do something like this,” she admitted quietly. “James was always… a good guy. He never showed a hint of malice.”

  Lars sighed, pulling a small tobacco leaf from his pocket and placing it between his lips.

  “Not everyone’s what they seem.”

  A few steps away, Sam shifted uncomfortably. “…So, what now?”

  Layla exhaled, finally turning away from the corpse.

  “Half a kilometer ahead lies the Black Sea.”

  She looked at the group and continued.

  “The ship is probably there, somewhere.”

  Sam visibly stiffened.

  “The Black Sea?” His voice faltered slightly.

  Layla nodded, completely unfazed.

  “A vast body of water spanning nearly sixty thousand square kilometers. Its surface is pitch black due to chemical sediments, and it has an average depth of five thousand meters. It’s home to a wide range of marine life.”

  She delivered the explanation in the detached tone of a tour guide.

  Sam, meanwhile, looked horrified.

  “That… that really doesn’t help,” he muttered, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead.

  Layla smirked but didn’t comment further.

  Claire, ever practical, crossed her arms. “And how exactly are we supposed to find it?”

  Layla turned back to them, a small but confident smile on her face.

  “We have boats.”

  A few heads turned in surprise.

  “We’ll split into two,” she continued. “With some luck, Nyx will guide us.” She nodded toward Nyx.

  Nyx rolled her shoulders. “Fine. But does anyone else have an illumination skill?”

  The group exchanged glances. They were about to sail into a sea of pure darkness, and finding the ship in that abyss wasn’t going to be easy.

  “Well, I can make little flames with my hands,” Sam offered, lifting a palm. A small flicker of fire danced at his fingertips before vanishing. “But I don’t think it’ll help much.”

  The group collectively shook their heads.

  Layla exhaled. “How’s Nigel?”

  Nyx adjusted him on her back, her expression tight with concern.

  “For now, he’s stable. But he’s still unconscious.” She sighed. “His body endured too much—this could take weeks, maybe even months to recover from.”

  Layla raised an eyebrow. “And you’re saying he’ll be fine?”

  Nyx hesitated, then nodded.

  “I’ve seen him heal from worse in impossibly short time frames,” she admitted. “So… yes. I think he’ll pull through.”

  Layla studied Nigel’s battered form, still covered in dried blood and bruises.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “…Is he even human?” she muttered.

  Nyx let out a dry chuckle. “Sometimes, I wonder the same thing.”

  She adjusted her grip on him again, then turned toward the others. “We need to keep moving. There’s no time to waste.”

  Layla nodded, then with a flick of her hand, three small boats materialized.

  “Had these in my inventory. Just in case.”

  No one questioned it.

  Within minutes, the group had split between the boats, easing onto the inky-black waters. To their surprise, the boats began to move on their own—without anyone rowing.

  Sam tensed. “What kind of witchcraft is this?”

  Layla smirked, tapping the small, black device mounted at the bow.

  “It’s a navigation system,” she explained. The tiny green screen flickered, casting a faint glow in the darkness. “It scans a large area for energy fluctuations and steers us through the safest routes.”

  Dovak grunted. “And this thing’ll lead us to the Mustafar?”

  Layla’s expression dimmed.

  “…No.”

  She crossed her arms. “The system only reads the water and currents—it won’t detect objects. I have no idea how we’re supposed to find the ship.”

  A heavy silence fell over the boats.

  William, leaning forward, spoke up. “Then maybe we just wait. See if we find something.”

  No one objected.

  For a long while, no one spoke. The only sound was the gentle lapping of waves against the hulls, a rhythmic, almost hypnotic noise in the overwhelming quiet.

  Then, after some time, Nyx activated her illumination ability.

  A soft, white glow expanded outward, casting light upon the waters around them.

  They peered over the edges, gazing into the water—

  Nothing.

  Just thick, opaque blackness.

  And beyond them—

  Complete darkness. A vast, endless void.

  Sam was on the verge of a panic attack.

  His breathing was shallow, his pulse erratic.

  Stay calm. Stay in control.

  Desperately, he inhaled deeply, shutting his eyes, his head lowered as he forced himself to exhale slowly.

  For a brief moment, he thought he had regained some composure.

  Then—

  He made the mistake of opening his eyes and looking directly into the water.

  Deep in the thick, murky abyss, two fluorescent green orbs stared back at him.

  Unblinking. Glowing. Growing.

  The pupils expanded—getting larger, closer, moving toward him.

  His body locked up instantly. He tried to scream, to warn the others, but nothing came out. His throat constricted, his breath caught in his chest. His limbs refused to move and the fear had swallowed him whole.

  He wanted to run. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry.

  But he could do nothing.

  Then—

  “Hey, Sam, try not to—”

  Nyx turned toward him, mid-sentence, before pausing.

  Her expression shifted.

  “…What’s wrong?”

  Sam sat frozen, drenched in sweat, his hands shaking uncontrollably.

  His eyes—wide, unblinking, filled with pure horror—were locked onto something in the water.

  Nyx followed his gaze.

  Then she saw them too.

  Two bright green orbs, cutting through the depths of the abyss, rushing toward them at terrifying speed.

  Her stomach dropped.

  “Something’s coming!” she screamed.

  The others barely had time to react before the water erupted.

  A violent wave surged beneath them, their boats rocking wildly as the ocean came alive.

  Then—it broke the surface.

  A massive, translucent creature emerged from the depths.

  It looked like a fish, but its skin was ghostly, see-through—its organs visible, twisting and pulsing beneath the transparent flesh.

  But its eyes—those massive, glowing green orbs—never blinked.

  They locked onto the group. Studying. Watching.

  Then—

  It let out a deep, shrill, reverberating sound.

  The very air shook.

  And in an instant—

  Nyx’s illumination skill shattered.

  The light vanished.

  Darkness consumed them.

  “Hold on tight!” Layla yelled.

  The waves began to thrash wildly, the boats violently shaking as the abyss pulled them deeper into its clutches.

  Towering waves—massive, untamed—tossed them across the sea like helpless driftwood, dragging them in an unknown direction.

  The creature’s eerie song-like hum echoed through the air, reverberating through their bones.

  Then, just as suddenly as it had begun—

  The waters stilled.

  The sea became eerily calm, and before they knew it, their boats lurched forward, scraping against solid ground.

  They had landed.

  The moment Sam’s fingers dug into sand, his body convulsed.

  He barely made it out of the boat before doubling over, emptying the contents of his stomach onto the shore.

  Nyx, regaining her focus, activated her ability again, casting a soft glow over the beach.

  Dovak groaned, still dizzy from the ride. “What the hell was that?!”

  Lars spat out a mouthful of seawater, coughing violently.

  “I jus’ swallowed eighty liters o’ saltwater, dammit.”

  Dovak rubbed his temples. “Yeah, okay. I think this is a good time to, you know… not die for a few minutes. Anyone else’s head feel like it got put through a meat grinder?”

  A collective grunt of agreement followed.

  A few minutes later, they had set up a small campfire, with portable chairs that Layla had conveniently stored in her inventory.

  Nyx settled beside Nigel, carefully laying him down on a makeshift bed of blankets. His breathing was steady but weak, his body still fighting through the aftermath of Rampage’s emergence.

  Then, Claire sat down beside them.

  Her voice was quiet when she spoke.

  “…I was scared.”

  Nyx blinked, turning to her. “What?”

  Claire kept her gaze on the fire.

  “When we found Nigel… and he killed James.” Her fingers curled slightly. “I thought… he would turn on us next. And I knew—if he did, we wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  The air around them grew heavy.

  It was rare—almost unheard of—for Claire to admit fear.

  The others, overhearing, glanced at her in surprise.

  Nyx exhaled. “…He’s complicated.”

  She looked down at Nigel’s battered form.

  “But I’ve known him since we were kids. He would never do that. Not him… not even his ‘other self.’”

  Claire’s eyes flickered toward her. “You mean Rampage?”

  A pause.

  Nyx hesitated for a second before nodding.

  “…Yeah.”

  She leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees. “And honestly? He scares me sometimes too.”

  Her fingers tensed slightly.

  “They’re complete opposites.” She shook her head. “I’ve seen what Rampage is capable of… but even then, I know Nigel is still in control.”

  Her voice softened.

  “And that’s what keeps me from being afraid.”

  Claire studied her for a long moment.

  Then, she let out a dry chuckle.

  “Well, let’s just hope he doesn’t lose it and kill us all in our sleep.”

  Before Nyx could respond—

  “Shit!”

  Dovak’s sharp yell snapped everyone’s attention to him.

  He clutched his head, his face twisting in pain.

  Layla, sitting nearby, immediately turned toward him. “What’s wrong?!”

  Dovak’s eyes darted wildly, scanning the darkness beyond the firelight.

  His breath hitched.

  “…The headache,” he muttered, his voice tight. “It’s getting worse.”

  Then—

  His pupils shrank.

  “There’s something nearby.”

  Just then, everyone felt it.

  Dozens of presences in the shadows, approaching at full speed.