Using the rainwater to 'wipe' his sweat off, Syllian gave his artwork a nod of approval.
To be exact, Crude's artwork.
The man may or may not have redone Syllian's entire section of repairs with an extremely pissed-off expression.
Syllian claimed innocence.
It was the demon inside of him that did it, not him!
Only a single 'night' had passed since he almost died and his stupid behaviour was already beginning to return.
Humans were creatures that thrived off of adaptability.
And Syllian had done precisely that, adapt to the ridiculous, fantasy-like situation.
Panicking further would help no one, certainly not him at least.
However, behind the foolery and mischievous inner thoughts, Syllian was persistently absorbing all the information around him like a sponge.
Every word spoken by the other crewmates, every action performed by them, and even the words used by them.
One such piece of information was the number of crew members, apparently, it was around 85 the night before, but now it had dropped down to 60.
On a side note, Syllian noticed something else that was also interesting that he never got the opportunity to pay attention to last 'night'.
The language.
While he heard and spoke in the english language, the mouths of the other people did not match any english words he knew of. They spoke in an entirely different language, and the Net of Ruin was most likely automatically translating his words.
That was just one of many peculiarities he noticed.
Syllian was many things, but delusional was not one of them.
He wouldn't have survived in that hell of a city otherwise.
He knew he was in a set of Trials.
And he fully recognised the danger he was in, and the dangers that would probably pop up very soon.
The only question was when, and what.
What was the source of the danger, and just when will it be thrown at him?
The crew held an unshakable belief in their Captain, so he couldn't understand how a mutiny was even possible.
Who was orchestrating it?
Who was the enemy?
Where was the enemy?
With his dire need for information, Syllian focused on intelligence gathering.
As a slum rat, sneaking about was his speciality.
"What are you staring at, kid?"
A squeaky childish voice attacked him from behind, but Syllian didn't have to turn to check who it was.
"Your ugly face." Disregarding her condescending tone, he went for a low blow.
Objectively speaking, she looked like your average little girl. But looks are subjective.
Standing up in anger, the little girl ran up to him from behind, "What?! Say that again!", and barged into the back of his knees.
Almost toppling over, Syllian grabbed her petite head with his free hand and pulled her off while shouting:
"Get off me you sticky tentacle!"
"Ugh!" Throwing a wild attempt at scratching him, the girl focused her attention on his legs, forcing him to lower his other hand which held his hammer slightly.
"Got you!"
And bit his hand.
"Dumb girl! Idiot!"
Letting go of her head, he gripped her jaw and used all his energy to pry her mouth away from his hand.
'Why is she so strong!'
A long altercation later, the childish duo sat side by side, breathing heavily while giving each other menacing glances.
Water drenched their faces, and with both being owners of long, dark hair, only their eyes shone from behind their hair with the occasional flashes of lightning and thunder.
"Ugly."
"Stick."
Right in front of them, Crude questioned every decision he had made in his life so far.
'What did I do to have to suffer from the idiocy of two lunatics...'
"Finch!"
As though to bless the poor soul, Allen shouted for Syllian from below the slightly raised front section of The Adler.
Blowing away the water running over his mouth:
"Yeah?!"
"Let's eat!"
It was already mealtime.
Rubbing his empty stomach, Syllian glimpsed at the angered Crude and gave the frustrated man a sly smile.
The girl beside him feigned a puke, turning her eyes away from Syllian, she screamed at him with every portion of her terrified soul.
"Don't smile ever again you creep!"
Syllian's smile twitched, the vein on his forehead threatening to burst.
'Don't get angry, don't get angry.'
Taking some deep breaths, he removed his smile.
Crude let out a sigh of genuine relief, he was worried for his sanity after seeing the boy smile.
'Never again will I ask this boy for help, or anything in fact.'
"Just go." Having given up on him, Crude brushed Syllian away like a fly.
Triumphantly exiting the little girl's vicinity, he gave her one final special smile that he brewed up from the depths of his infinite well of generosity.
'Ah, the beautiful sound of a crying girl.'
With his arms on his hips, he left.
...Not after wincing from touching his wound, that is.
---
Syllian and Allen stood around chatting about the night before as they stood in line for the food in the food hall.
About 10 others stood in front of them.
According to the information he picked up, they were split into 3 shifts, with their allocated meal time being separated evenly to allow a constant flow of people in and out of the cafeteria without clogging it up and slowing down the 'gears' of the ship.
"Heya Allen, Finch."
A boy dressed in a widely contrasting white uniform from their mess stepped into the line behind them, he had similar brown eyes and dark, brown hair as Allen.
"Your twin?" Syllian couldn't help himself from commenting on the similarity between them.
"No, stop making the same joke over and over again."
"Will do."
Allen scoffed at the older boy, "Will do your ass, that's what. I dare you to make that joke one more time."
"You've gotten braver since the last time I saw you, Finch." The new boy commented.
"Almost getting crushed by a massive tentacle did the trick." And Syllian responded like a smooth criminal.
'Who is this guy?'
That wasn't the first time he'd had that thought since he woke up on this god-forsaken ship.
"Oh yeah, Allen, I heard the Captain used his Twin Sister Revolvers last night!"
The boy almost jumped to the roof as he spoke, he was quite obviously another ravenous Captain believer.
"Hehehe... I saw it up close and personal!"
'Is that even something to be happy about? We almost died for fucks sake.'
Keeping up with the conversation of fanatics was bad for his young heart, turning into one of those crippled old witches who relied on the happy drugs to get over their ill-begotten hearts was the last thing he wanted to happen.
Thankfully, it was now their turn to get food.
Getting a plate of the driest and plainest looking rations he had ever set eyes on, Syllian stared solemnly for a moment.
"Don't complain, Finch, your lucky we're even getting clean water to drink at this point." Allen bumped the stunned Syllian aside and took his own plate.
But it's not that Syllian was complaining, it was that, well, this was the first time he had gotten food without mould on it.
'Amazing...'
Walking to a table, he sat down on a rattling old wooden chair and plopped down the plate of food carefully.
"Dried unknown meat, and a bunch of sides that don't even look like real food. Great."
The new boy stabbed his food boringly and stuffed it into his mouth in an attempt to get past the trauma as fast as possible.
Syllian, on the other hand, salivated over every bite.
Examining the texture, the taste, and even the horrid smell of the mashed section of unidentifiable food.
Allen and the boy watched in inexplicable fright at Syllian's action.
"Hey... Has he gone insane?"
"M-maybe? He did get hit hard a few days ago..."
---
Reclining back, Syllian patted his full stomach while his fingers picked away at the food stuck between his teeth.
It was amazing.
There was no worry of getting food poisoning.
'Those old witches would be so jealous right now.'
Giggling like a demented charlatan from the slums, Syllian stared at his awed partners:
"What?"
"Nothing much."
"Yeah, don't mind us."
It wasn't just them, the other crew mates around watched him with similar looks in their eyes.
Not used to being put on the spot like that, Syllian shifted uncomfortably about his seat and asked Allen, "Hey, where's the toilets again?"
After that meal, his bowels finally caught up to his mind.
"Out to the right, take the first right, and it's the last door on the left."
Thanking him, Syllian left the food hall in a hurry.
The corridors of the ship were as dark as usual with only a few lights seeping through the gaps allowing the people inside to traverse in a safe manner.
Most of the crew was still working, and the rest were still in the food hall relaxing during their break.
This combination meant everywhere else was empty except for, perhaps, the hospital room.
Taking the first right, Syllian felt like his bowels were about to explode.
Rushing through the dim corridor, he finally reached the toilet and entered.
Sitting in the darkness just as usual.
'Nothing new here I guess.'
A few minutes of relief later, Syllian was satisfied.
Syllian grabbed the door handle and pushed.
"Hello?"
It didn't budge, something was blocking it.
Thud!
Barging into it with his shoulder, Syllian swallowed the mild pain in his abdomen down, but still, nothing.
The door was too heavy.
"Hello!"
'Who's blocking the door?'
Syllian gulped at that mere thought.
No...
'What, is blocking the door?'
There was a slim chance someone was playing a prank on him, but this wasn't the real world, nor was it a game.
This was the Trial of Ruin.
And it looked like it was finally done letting him rest.
Bang!
This time he threw his body weight on the door.
Creak...
It finally budged by a centimetre, not much, but progress was progress.
Bang!
Again, it budged by a few more centimetres.
Stepping on the floor to budge it one more time, he felt his foot step into a puddle of liquid.
'Water...?'
Bang!
Ignoring whatever the liquid was, Syllian barged into the door again, letting out a growl of tension escape his chapped lips.
Splatter!
The sound of rushing liquid entered his ear, with something small suddenly touching his foot.
Resisting the urge to scream and jump, Syllian slowly, but carefully, bent down.
Gripping the small, spherical squishy object, he stood up.
Incapable of seeing in the darkness, Syllian focused his eyes, hoping to see even just a glimpse of what it was.
CRACKLE-!
The thunderous noise of crashing lightning echoed through the ship, it had landed dangerously close to the hull of The Adler.
Close enough to slightly make it past the soundproofing system built into the ship.
Syllian didn't care though.
That flash of lightning sipped through the cracks in the wood and lit up the toilet for a split second.
Splat...
He let go of the object in his hand, allowing it to burst on the floor with one resounding squelch.
The liquid beneath him was blood.
And the spherical object that was splattered across the floor now.
Was an eye.
And through the slight crack in the door, he saw the source of the eye.
A painting.
A painting of bone, blood, muscle, skin, flesh, and filth.
It covered the corridor.