The island was getting closer, and the silhouettes in the thick fog on the island were becoming increasingly clear—Lawrence stood on the bow deck of the White Oak, his hands tightly gripping the railing in front of him, his knuckles turning somewhat white from the strength of his grasp.
Anyone would be nervous, even an old captain who had spent half his life adrift in the Endless Sea—What could be on that island? What are the shadows in the dense fog? Why does the island seem to consciously appear around the White Oak? And most importantly... What exactly is this area, shrouded in eerie phenomena?
