The soldier wore a black, form-fitting combat suit, a mask and camouflaged helmet concealing his face. One hand gripped a katana, the other leveled a sidearm directly at Rain.

  Ren paid no heed to the threat. He was certain that the enemy's ammunition had run dry after the recent exchange of fire.

  He stepped forward, unhurried. One hand clenched around the assault rifle he’d wrested from the previous squad, the other reaching for the sheathed blade across his back.

  Rain never favored guns. Efficient? Yes. Practical? Undoubtedly.

  But they lacked elegance.

  "You're a damn good opponent... I've been wanting to cross swords with someone like you for a long time." The soldier discarded his pistol. "Let's settle this."

  Rain couldn’t tell if it was out of necessity or desire.

  The enemy readied his blade, feet planted, stance firm—

  an invitation.

  On any other day, Rain would have tested his defenses. He would have searched for openings. But today—

  His body was shredded with wounds. His limbs screamed for relief.

  He had only one thought:

  To end this fight as quickly as possible.

  He lifted the katana high above his head, then launched forward. His strike came down with all the force left in his body.

  The enemy reacted instantly. He twisted his blade horizontally, bracing for impact.

  The clash of steel rang like a war cry.

  But in locking swords—

  His opponent made a fatal mistake.

  Rain raised the rifle in his left hand. He pressed it to the soldier’s skull. Leaving no room for him to evade or counteract.

  And pulled the trigger.

  As the impact drove him backward, his body collapsed to the ground.

  Rain let the empty gun slip from his fingers, letting it clatter onto the lifeless body at his feet. He could have fired the moment he entered—but a stray bullet might have struck the ship’s engine. That was a risk he couldn’t afford.

  For a moment, he stood still, listening.

  Nothing moved.

  The battle was over.

  With a weary sigh, he sank to the floor, placing his katana beside him. Each breath sent sharp waves of pain through his ribs—a cruel reminder of the fractures beneath the bandages.

  He traced his fingers lightly over his chest, finding spots damp with blood. Not enough to be a problem. The wounds hadn't reopened.

  Satisfied, Rain let his thoughts drift back to how he got here.

  The last thing he remembered was the missile.

  The blinding flash.

  The impact throwing him off his feet.

  And Esther—

  Had he been carrying her?

  Had she survived the explosion?

  But no matter how hard he searched his mind, the answers weren’t there.

  When he awoke, soldiers surrounded him. Clad in the same uniform as the man he had just killed. Sonia and Will were there too. Guns were trained on them. So his instincts took over and identified that group of soldiers as an enemy. He took the opportunity to escape when the lights went out.

  They were well-trained and well-armed, but they were strangers to this ship.

  He wasn’t.

  He took out the rearguard first, stole his weapon— Then, in the dark, picked them off one by one.

  In hindsight, he should’ve left one alive. Interrogation could have been useful to gather more information. Who sent those soldiers here? What is their mission purpose?

  But thinking about that right now would be futile. It was too late.

  No sign of Sonia or Will among the bodies. Which meant they were taken alive. Likely already off the ship.

  Rain exhaled slowly. He needed to think. He needed—

  A soft cough echoed from above.

  She wore a black leather jacket—taken from the engine room locker—over her standard-issue orange engineer’s uniform and black shorts. The jacket was far too large for her small frame, its hem falling to her bare knees. The heels of her boots tapped rhythmically against the metal floor, an unconscious cadence of restless thoughts. Behind her, Will followed—his military uniform disheveled, his face pale as though he’d stared into death itself.

  “You took them all out?” Sonia asked, glancing at the bodies scattered around them.

  “Not all,” Rain replied, his voice muffled beneath layers of bandages. Even speaking sent sharp pain lancing through his skull. He had almost forgotten how heavy Holland’s fists were.

  “They were an assault unit, but they never thought to block the exits. That means others might still be waiting outside.”

  Sonia parted her lips to ask another question, but Rain raised a hand to stop her.

  “My turn to ask—what the hell happened?”

  Sonia hesitated.

  Then, finally, she spoke.

  “We did it. We killed the creature and saved everyone. The doctor said you should have died. You lost nearly all your blood and were unconscious for days.”

  That explained the stitches beneath his wrappings, the bandages wound tightly around his torso.

  But there was still one thing that didn’t add up.

  “Then why the hell am I here?”

  Will turned to him, his expression grim.

  “Sonia lost her damn mind. She hooked you up to the ship’s engine.”

  “I—” Sonia interjected, “The doctor said you needed blood. But your blood type—it's not in any known category. And I remembered... in the engineer’s logs, they drained six liters of blood from that stone every day.”

  “You didn’t need to do that!” Will snapped. “We don’t even know what that thing is! For all we know, whatever liquid it produces only resembles blood. What if it’s something else entirely?”

  “You said you trusted me!”

  “I did.” Will gritted his teeth. “That’s why I helped carry Rain here. But now I need to hear your reasoning.”

  Sonia fell silent for a long moment, her mind searching for words. Then, in a quiet voice, “I saw the same stone in Giza’s museum. They called it the Obelisk. The researchers there believed it was an energy generator from the Old World—an unlimited power source. So I thought…”

  “So you thought injecting some unknown substance from an ancient machine into Rain’s bloodstream was a good idea!?” Will’s voice rose in exasperation. “I can’t believe I agreed to bring him here for this! That could’ve killed him, Sonia!”

  “I know that!”

  Her voice cracked,

  but then it hardened.

  “But tell me, Will—who else is going to save Esther?”

  Rain looked up, forcing his lips to move despite the pain.

  “What happened to Esther?”

  “You two won’t believe me… Maybe I really did lose my mind after facing that ‘thing’.”

  “You’re not insane. In fact, your instincts were right.” Then, he met Sonia’s gaze, steady and unwavering. “What you did saved my life. I won’t explain the Obelisk any further, but if you were willing to gamble my existence to save Esther, then I’ll trust you.”

  "You're not mad at me? You could have died," Sonia said softly, avoiding his gaze.

  Rain suspected she felt guilty—guilty that she had valued Esther’s life over his. But he didn’t particularly care.

  “Didn’t I just say you saved me?” Rain exhaled sharply. “Now, are you finally going to tell me what happened to Esther?”

  At the very least, he hadn’t been shot yet.

  In fact, the deck was eerily empty.

  “Didn’t you say they’d be waiting for us?” Will followed behind, an assault rifle scavenged from one of the dead soldiers held ready in his hands.

  “You sound disappointed.” Sonia muttered from the rear. “Do you really want someone to be waiting to ambush us?”

  Rain ignored them both. He strode toward the railing.

  Then, his steps slowed.

  Sonia and Will must have noticed his change in demeanor. Both of them moved to stand beside him.

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  “What the hell…?” Will’s voice was hushed, his disbelief evident.

  Beneath them, sprawled across the pier, were dozens of bodies in near-identical combat uniforms. All of them lay in grotesque, lifeless heaps. Blood pooled beneath them, dripping over the pier’s edge, staining the black waves crimson.

  Slowly, carefully, they made their way across the blood-slicked gangplank.

  Sonia nearly slipped—but Will caught her arm before she could fall.

  Rain studied the bullet wounds again.

  Sonia turned to him. “What do you mean?”

  Silence fell over the group.

  They didn’t need to say it.

  They already knew what kind of force could drive this many people to simultaneous suicide.

  A force that could seize the minds of many all at once.

  Will shook his head, unable to comprehend it. “Are we really saying this was Esther’s doing?”

  “So it really did… transfer into her?” Will swallowed hard. “Then what the hell do we do?”

  Rain’s gaze shifted toward the city of Giza.

  “Where was Esther when you brought me back to the Washington?”

  “The hotel,” Sonia replied. “The one the Egyptian government put us in.”

  Rain’s expression hardened. “And the rest of the Washington’s crew? They’re still there?”

  “Yeah, why?” Sonia narrowed her eyes. “Wait… are you saying you already have a plan?”

  Sonia’s face darkened. “What could possibly be more important than saving Esther?”

  Rain turned back toward the bodies littering the ground.

  “We need to get everyone back on board—now.”

  Sonia and Will exchanged uneasy glances.

  “They told us they were here to check for remnants of the ‘thing,’” Will murmured. “I thought it was suspicious, but… how do you know for sure?”

  Rain rose to his feet, leveling a gaze at Will and Sonia. “Why are you still standing around? Go get the crew.”

  Sonia hesitated. “And what about you?”

  Rain pulled back the bolt on his newly acquired rifle. A spent casing clattered against the bloodstained dock. “I’ll buy you as much time as I can.”

  Rain nodded in approval before turning toward the gangway, ready to position himself for a last stand.

  “You have a better plan?” Will asked skeptically.

  Sonia crossed her arms. “I don’t know if it’ll work, but…”

  Rain and Will exchanged glances before turning back to her expectantly.

  “Should I call Heisenberg, Captain?” Matthew asked, concern evident in his gaze.

  “No. First, we’re getting the hell out of here.” Holland shook his head. “Prepare for departure, Matthew”

  “Whose idea was it to rile up the crowd?” Holland turned to Rain. “Brilliant strategy—though my ears are still ringing from their shouting.”

  “The Egyptian military sent an assault team to seize the Washington, didn’t they?” Matthew asked.

  A terrible lie—but no one was going to suspect him of needing one.

  “Those Bastards.” Hector clenched his teeth. “Same dirty tactics they pulled in the Battle of New Hawaii. Typical Egyptians.”

  Rain held his silence for a moment before answering.

  Holland continued to stare, as if searching for something deeper in Rain’s expression.

  But then—A voice crackled through the ship’s intercom.

  “Prepare for departure.” Holland exhaled and turned away. “Submerge to thirty meters. Request clearance from port control to open the northern floodgates.”

  Matthew moved toward the door to relay the orders to the communications team but paused. He leaned toward Rain, whispering, “You should grab some bandages and alcohol for him. I think he’s too stubborn to admit that he needed them”

  Rain gave a small nod of agreement and followed Matthew out of the control room.

  At the stairwell, they parted ways—Matthew ascending, Rain descending to the fourth deck.

  Rain’s gaze flickered toward the open notebook on the table. Heisenberg is shading a painting of a whale.

  Without looking up, The ship’s doctor spoke, his voice low and measured. “Do you even realize what you’ve done? You’ve just killed a very special creature”

  Rain didn’t engage. “Bandages and alcohol.”

  “Did you know that whales are intelligent and clever creatures?” Heisenberg traced another delicate stroke onto the page, deepening the shadows of the whale’s massive form. “They communicate through sound frequencies—complex, intricate. They hunt together. They mourn their dead. Just like us humans, right?”

  Rain reached forward and snatched the notebook off the table.

  “Violence.” Heisenberg sighed, finally releasing his pencil. “That’s always your answer, isn’t it?”

  He pushed himself up from the chair, moving toward the medicine cabinet.

  “Seems to work pretty well.” Rain said. He set the notebook back down as Heisenberg returned, carrying two rolls of bandages and a bottle of antiseptic. “Two rolls?”

  “Because yours need changing too.” Heisenberg pressed the supplies into Rain’s hands. “And clean your wounds properly this time.”

  As Rain turned to leave, Heisenberg called after him.

  Rain didn’t respond.

  Instead, he simply shut the infirmary door behind him.

  He moved down the corridor, passing crew members busy with final departure procedures.

  Finally, he reached the door to his shared cabin with Holland. The room was practically empty. Neither he nor Holland spent much time here—both preferred dozing off in the control room. As a result, the cabin remained spotless, untouched by use.

  Rain stepped inside, leaving the door ajar—his hands were occupied with medical supplies.

  He sat down on the lower bunk, setting the items beside him.

  Then, slowly, painfully, he peeled off his coat.

  The fabric clung to dried blood, tugging at his wounds as he removed it. Underneath, a gray t-shirt—soaked with sweat and marred with streaks of red.

  Raising his arms to pull the shirt over his head, Rain gritted his teeth. Even the simplest movements sent agony rippling through his ribs. With a sharp exhale, he tossed the stained clothing onto the floor.

  Everything about this departure had been rushed—He hadn’t even had the chance to wash himself, let alone follow proper maritime rituals.

  A familiar voice from the doorway.

  Rain lifted his head.

  Standing in the doorway was Esther.

  She wore a yellow leather vest over a white t-shirt, paired with black jeans.

  She looked exactly as she had the day he met her—sitting on that bench outside the fish market in Under D.C. Except—Her blonde hair now cascaded past her shoulders, brushing the middle of her back.

  And her brows furrowed in concern as she gazed at him.

  At his permission, Esther shut the door behind her. She stepped closer, settling onto the edge of the bed beside him.

  The same awkward, uncertain energy from that day at the fish market crept into his chest.

  Rain didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing.

  He simply sat there, letting her work in silence.

  When the last of the bandages fell away, Esther had stopped moving.

  He turned his head. And She was crying.

  Tears slipped down her cheeks, leaving glistening trails in their wake. Her gaze was locked onto his body, taking in every scar, every wound—old and new.

  Scars littered his skin, a testament to every fight, every struggle. To him, they were nothing unusual. Just part of living on the Sunless Sea.

  Rain frowned.

  Not because he lacked an answer—but because he didn’t understand the question.

  Esther didn’t reply.

  She only continued to weep in silence, her shoulders trembling as she reached for a cotton swab soaked in antiseptic.

  Rain let her work, enduring the sting as she cleaned his wounds.

  Only when she finished wrapping the last bandage did Esther finally rise to her feet and walk toward the door.

  Rain stood up.

  There were so many questions on his tongue—

  Yet none of them felt right.

  Before she could open the door, he caught her wrist.

  His grip was gentle, uncertain.

  It was the only question that came to mind.

  Esther slowly turned back to face him.

  Her voice was eerily calm.

  And Rain found himself staring into those amber-lit eyes.

  Rain froze as she reached for his hand—

  And guided it gently to her cheek.

  He could feel the dampness of her tears beneath his palm.

  Her skin was warm, soft.

  Too human.

  Rain pulled his hand away, stepping back.

  Something about her words… unsettled him.

  Esther smiled—

  But it wasn’t human.

  She answered simply.

  She took a step closer.

  Her golden eye gleamed like a sun drowning in dusk.

  She turned, reaching for the door.

  “How will you protect her… if she doesn’t want to be protected?”

  Esther stepped forward, pausing only for a moment.

  Then, she was gone.

  All that remained was Rain.

  Standing alone—With nothing but the weight of her words—

  And the lingering dampness of her tears, still staining his palm.