From a distance, someone could mistake them for humans. Unnaturally pale and thin. Stretched skin clung to them as if they were wearing someone else’s skin like a costume. They had spindly limbs. Their movements were stiff, like they didn’t know how to walk or use their arms.

  Their heads twitched when they moved, like puppets pulled by strings. Every step landed with a wet, dragging sound, like something crawling out of a grave. Their eyes were small and deep-set. They emitted a faint orange glow as if something were smoldering behind them.

  They didn’t breathe. They didn’t blink. They didn’t speak.

  Not until one tilted its head. A sharp click echoed across the deck. Then another. Then dozens more. A melody of tongues snapping against teeth in a language no one should ever understand.

  Kael felt his skin crawl. His instincts screamed at him to run, but his legs wouldn’t listen.

  One of them moved.

  Fast. Horribly fast.

  The creature lunged ahead with force, pulling its body forward like a string had been pulled. A spear, long and carved from some pale, bone-like material, struck a young girl in the abdomen.

  She let out a strangled cry and collapsed without a sound.

  Then everything shattered.

  “Grab something! Anything! Defend yourselves!” Eyrk’s voice broke through the panic.

  Kael reached for the nearest thing—a jagged, broken oar. His palms were slick with liquid. He couldn’t tell if it was sweat or blood.

  Across the deck, Lira had armed herself with a splintered plank. Her stance was tense but focused.

  “Form around me!” Eyrk said, his tone urgent and commanding, like he was born to lead. Around him, seekers clutched broken wooden handles, paddles, and shards of metal. They formed a ragtag barrier against the pale beasts.

  The creatures rushed at them. Some had blades, others brandished spears, and a few pulled back crude bows.

  The line faltered. One seeker ran. Another screamed.

  Yoan was there before the rest could panic.

  “Pull back! Don’t let them separate you!” he barked, slamming a sharpened pole into one of the things. His old body moved with surprising speed.

  One of the seekers—a boy no older than fifteen—froze in place. A pale beast lunged.

  Yoan didn’t hesitate. He rammed his shoulder into the boy and knocked him clear. He slammed the pale beast onto the ground as he pierced its skull with its own spear.

  “You freeze again, and I’ll toss you over myself,” Yoan growled to the boy, harshly.

  Kael backed away as one of the monsters locked eyes with him. Or maybe it didn’t have eyes. Just glowing pits.

  It ran at him.

  Up close, they were even more hideous. They had hollow faces with mouths split into twisted grins full of needle-thin teeth.

  Kael raised the oar too late. The creature’s blade sliced across his shoulder, shallow but hot. Pain burst through him like fire.

  The pale beast did not hesitate. It rushed in Kael's direction, slicing again with its sword.

  Kael blocked it with the oar. The clash cracked the wood. The oar split in two. He stumbled, falling on his back, heart pounding.

  The beast followed, tongue clicking faster now. It raised its weapon—

  —and then something cracked against its skull.

  Lira.

  She swung her plank like a baseball player and struck the pale monster squarely on the skull. The impact made the pale beast jerk. Its petite body flew inches away from Kael.

  Kael didn’t think. He dove for the sword it had dropped. It felt cold, alien, and heavier than it looked.

  The pale beast stood back up on its feet and, with what could only be described as a snarl, rushed toward Lira.

  It grabbed Lira’s hair, yanked her head back, and punched her in the stomach. She grunted in pain, falling onto the ground on her knees, wheezing. The creature wrapped its thin fingers around her throat and began to squeeze.

  Kael got up behind it, ready to swing the blade. But Kael’s grip shook. The sword felt heavier than it should. His feet wouldn’t move. I've never killed someone, he thought, his mind racing. I've never even held a sword before.

  But Lira's face was turning blue, the palms of her hands trying to smack the creature’s face. She met Kael’s eyes, and at that moment, Kael didn’t hesitate.

  The blade cut clean through its neck with no resistance.

  Black ichor sprayed over his face and chest. The creature crumpled. Lira hit the deck beside it, coughing and choking.

  “Kael! Behind you!” Lira croaked, her voice hoarse.

  Kael turned in time to see another pale beast lunging at him, spear aimed at his chest.

  He turned. The spear came. He ducked, and the spear whistled past his hair.

  Kael turned and slashed. The blade tore through the beast’s back. It barely flinched. He yanked it free and slashed again, harder. This time, the blade tore through the side of its head.

  The pale beast twitched once, then lay lifeless on the ground.

  Kael looked around. All around him, the seekers were fighting.

  Yoan drove a bone spear through a beast’s chest with a grunt. Eyrk led a loose formation of survivors, shouting orders. Mara bared her teeth and fired one of the beast’s own arrows.

  Stolen story; please report.

  The adrenaline pumping throughout Kael’s body finally gave out.

  He dropped the sword, the bone hilt hitting the deck with a loud clank, and sank beside Lira.

  “Fuck, man, fuck,” Kael muttered, his voice trembling.

  Lira coughed, her hand still clutching her throat. “Thank you, you… you saved my life.”

  Kael didn’t respond. He stared at his hands, stained black. They wouldn’t stop shaking.

  He had killed. Twice. And he didn’t know how to feel about it.

  Kael sat himself up, his back leaning on the railing of the ship, his hands still trembling. The smell of blood, not just from the ocean but from the beasts, made him want to throw up. Every part of him screamed to vomit, but he swallowed it down, choking on his own guilt.

  Lira got up beside him, her breath still a little ragged. “You okay?”

  Kael didn’t answer right away. He stared at the two lifeless bodies of the pale beasts before responding. “I… I don’t know. I've never killed anything before.” Kael felt water falling down his face. He didn’t even notice the tears until one slipped past his cheek.

  Lira’s expression softened, her voice soft. “You did what you had to do. You saved my life.”

  Kael wiped the tears from his face and looked at her, saying, “I just feel like… I don’t know. Dirty. Wrong. What if I freeze again? You’d be dea-”

  “Don’t,” Lira interrupted, her tone firm. “Don’t do that to yourself. You acted. That’s what matters.”

  He wanted to believe her. But as he stared at the bodies he slaughtered. His nan’s voice echoed in his head. They were always steady and warm. She had raised him to be a good person. She had raised him without his father to be kind and gentle. Teaching him that life was hard, yes, but never cruel.

  But now... this?

  He looked down at his shaking hands, still stained black. Nan used to steady these very hands when he was learning how to gut fish. One slip of the knife, and she’d give him that soft, scolding look. Gentle. Patient. Now, they were shaking for a different reason. And no scolding would wash the blood off this time.

  “I keep thinking,” Kael said, his voice a whisper, “about how Nan would see me now, about how my siblings would see me. What they would say, seeing me like this.”

  Lira didn’t look away. She didn’t offer more reassurances. She just stayed there, beside him.

  “It’s not about being better,” Lira finally said, her voice calmer now. “It’s about surviving. It’s about living another day to survive. I think… I think they would understand that.”

  Before Kael could respond, Eryk's voice cut through the air: “Everyone, gather up! We need to assess the damage and figure out our next move.”

  The seekers regrouped, exhausted. Bodies litter the deck, humans and beasts alike. A few seekers were injured, some minor, others more serious.

  Eryk stood at the center, his face and hair splashed with black blood. He looked exhausted. More than that, he looked rattled. “We lost eleven,” his voice was heavy. “But we held our ground, and that’s more than enough.”

  “Held our ground? Mara snapped back, “We barely survived! And for what?”

  “And whose fucking fault is that? Not only did you kill an innocent man, but did you even stop to consider what would happen?” Yoan angrily retorted.

  “No, of course you didn’t. Because even though you’re a grown woman, you act like a child. Impulsive and idiotic. Even my worst recruits showed more sense than you.”

  Mara stepped forward, fists clenched. “Don’t you dare talk down to me like that.”

  Yoan didn’t flinch. “Why not? You earned it. You threw that old man to his death and woke up the sea’s fucking nightmares. Eleven people are dead, and it all started with your decision.”

  “I did what I had to!” she snapped. “We were told to choose! To sacrifice someone!”

  “You picked the weakest one and didn’t even blink,” Yoan said. “That’s not sacrifice. That’s cowardice dressed up as decisiveness.”

  Her jaw tightened, her lips trembling, but she didn’t look away. “And what would you have done? Waited? Watched us get picked off anyway?”

  “Enough!” Eyrk said, stepping in. He raised his hands, but they shook a bit. Kael couldn’t tell if it was from tiredness or anger. “Fighting each other isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

  “No,” Yoan muttered. “This is what comes next. If we keep letting people like her make the calls, we’re all going to die.”

  Eyrk’s expression was grim but steady. “We can argue later. Right now, we need to treat the wounded and figure out what comes next.”

  Mara crossed her arms. “Then what are we doing, pretty boy? Waiting for the next trial to kill off the rest of us?”

  Eyrk flinched. His eyes darted to the bodies across the deck, and for a second, he didn’t speak.

  “We’re surviving,” he said finally. It didn’t sound confident. Just tired. “That’s all we can do.”

  Mara scoffed under her breath. “Great plan.”

  A slow clap cut through the tension.

  “Well said. And good job. You all survived. Well… maybe not all of you.” Someone laughed, clearly amused by his own remarks.

  “And you!” Mara shouted, pointing an accusing finger at the Captain. “You monster! You caused this!”

  The Captain tilted his head as if confused, his smirk widening. “Me? Oh no, my dear. Didn’t your friend already explain it? You caused this. I’m merely here to… facilitate.”

  Mara’s face paled, but she didn’t back down. “I followed your instructions,” Mara said. Her voice was lower now, quieter, but still defiant. “You said someone had to go. I made a choice.”

  The Captain chuckled, the sound dry and rasping. “No, I said half of you have to go. And you chose convenience. An innocent old man? Really? Don’t you have morals?”

  Mara moved toward him, raising the pale beast’s sword and pointing it at the Captain.

  The Captain didn’t flinch. His grin widened, almost... delighted.

  “Now, now. You shouldn’t threaten a humble guide. That’s not very nice.” His voice was playful, but there was something about it. Dangerous. It felt like a threat.

  He reached out and squeezed the blade of Mara’s sword between his skeletal fingers with a relaxed grip. No one said a word. The only sound was the rattle of bone fragments from the blade skipping across the deck.

  Mara froze, her eyes wide, her fingers still clenched around the now-empty hilt.

  The Captain let the silence linger a little too long before breaking it with a dry laugh. “Ah, don’t look so surprised. You act like you weren’t warned.”

  He turned from Mara, casually brushing phantom dust off his skeletal fingers.

  “Enough of this. Look. You all failed.”

  Yoan growled. “We sacrificed someone. Wasn’t that the point?”

  The Captain’s grin twisted. “You didn’t sacrifice. You nominated a scapegoat. There’s a difference.”

  The skeleton took a slow step forward. “This wasn’t a math problem. It wasn’t about throwing away someone weak. It was about sincerity. About cost. About meaning.”

  He gestured lazily at the carnage. “Tell me—how many lives did that little shortcut save?”

  Mara said nothing. Her mouth, a tight, bitter line.

  Yoan scoffed. “So what, did you want bloodshed either way?”

  The Captain tilted his head. “We wanted sincerity. We wanted honesty. And you gave us convenience.”

  He let the silence stretch, the pause deliberate. “But I’m merciful.” His tone mocked the word. “So I’ll make it easier. Even you can understand this, Mara.”

  The Captain clapped once.

  The ancient scale and the trays shuddered and withdrew into the deck. Wood groaned as the planks sealed over it. Smooth and clean—as if the floor had not been ripped apart in the first place.

  “So I’ll simplify it. No scales. No trays. No guessing.”

  He turned; his voice dipped into something colder than it had been before.

  Since more than half of you have already died, I’ll make a trade. One of you jumps. Willingly into the sea. That’s the deal.”

  The Captain’s grin disappeared. His voice, usually a dry rasp, became cold and steady. “You have thirty minutes.”

  He paused, letting the words sink in. “No more chances. If you still can’t come up with someone. Then all of you will die.”

  There was no hint of his usual mischief, no sarcasm. It was cold and serious. With that, he turned and disappeared into his cabin.

  They all stood frozen. Thirty minutes. One mistake, and they were all dead.