The sheer size of the vessel hit Safal like a physical blow the moment he stepped aboard. It was beautiful, a floating city reminiscent of the Titanic, but with a gritty, functional edge. No opulent ballroom, just stark steel and the hum of powerful engines.
Meera, her fingers entwined with his, tugged him forward. When had they become so close? The thought flickered through Safal's mind alongside a wave of confused fondness. He himself was at a loss to pinpoint the moment.
Varun, their Master, introduced them to Captain Andrew, a man whose weathered face and twinkling eyes spoke of a thousand adventures. It was soon revealed that Andrew was more than a simple transport; he was a vital link in the underground network helping freedom fighters evade the oppressive Peacekeepers.
While Andrew regaled them with tales of daring escapes and close calls, a nagging unease settled in Safal's mind. He remembered the screen, the one that had appeared that one time, now.
Safal closed his eyes, concentrating, willing the screen to appear. It flickered into his mind, as clear as day. He cracked open his eyes, surprised at how readily it had manifested. He had assumed it only appeared during moments of extreme fucked up situation, when he was near death. The realization slammed into him - all the realms, the strange places he had been, had all been real. But now the screen was back. Across the top in bold, almost threatening, letters read:
TITLE: DRAGO SON. The revelation sent a tremor through him. Drago? A creature of myth, a being of immense power, was his father?
Pushing this absurd notion aside, Safal focused on the other details. His information like name, age were on the left top. Exp: 156/1000 was on right side. Across the bottom, written in an ancient language, he noticed a prominent countdown: Fourteen hours: two minutes: five seconds... four seconds… three seconds…. The numbers were ticking down rapidly.
The announcement that it was time to settle in snapped Safal out of his reverie. He tried to escape the group of people to find his room, but Meera dragged him away again, this time to recreate the iconic Titanic pose. Safal, feeling a growing sense of panic, feigned disinterest and excused himself, using the excuse of finding his room. Rooms were scarce, and most would be sharing. Safal's dread solidified as he learned his roommates would be Liza, Alisa, and, to his horror, Meera. He had been informed that Dev would be with them but Meera had begged Varun and Varun gave in.
Desperate for a moment of respite, Safal bolted toward the dining hall, hoping to find a quiet corner. But, fate, or perhaps the persistent Meera, had other plans. She was already there, grinning at him. Despite the impending doom of sharing a bedroom with her, Safal cautiously approached the food line. He was about to take a bite of the proffered meal when the mental screen flared again, this time with a stark red danger sign, its message chillingly clear: "Food contains harmful toxins. Probably Venom."
Safal's eyes darted around the room, landing on Andrew; a smirk playing on his lips, a look that was anything but reassuring. He recalled a snippet of conversation with Varun - Andrew was a pirate, a mercenary who had helped them in the past for gold. This time, however, there had been no such demand, which seemed weird to them.
He quickly concocted a plan. Acting like he was enjoying his food, he "accidentally" let his plate slip, sending food scattering across the floor. The staff rushed to help, offering to bring him more food. Safal politely refused, claiming he was full, his heart hammering against his ribs. He needed information, and he needed it fast.
Some time passed in silence as the other were busy enjoying their food. Safal came back again and everyone starred at him. Varun noticing him, asked if he wanted more food. Safal's time was running out, and he simply said, "You are all going to die."
Panic flared in the room at his words. Then, as if on cue, one of the freedom fighters collapsed. Varun's eyes, wide with disbelief, zeroed in on Safal, accusation heavy in his voice. "Did you do this?"
Andrew's booming laughter echoed through the room. "How could he poison his own master's friends? I did it," he said, a twisted smile on his face. "You have a sharp eye for a kid, you know."
Andrew explained his betrayal. Varun owed him a significant amount of gold that he was avoiding. He was going to cash in with these prisoners, as the Peacekeepers had a hefty bounty on his head. "Ten thousand coins. Fair enough, don't you think?"
Varun's face crumpled. He grabbed at a spoon, futilely attempting to launch an attack on the captain. Andrew held out a hand, his tone laced with cruel amusement, saying, "Don't do anything funny. I have been working with you for more than five years and you think I wouldn't remember your actions. I am the only one who knows where the antidote is. If you kill me, who will give you the antidote?"
Despair washed over Varun, the weight of his betrayal crushing him. He cried out, "He can kill everyone but spare him. I even know where the gold is hidden by Nishan, their Chief. I can become your slave and serve you for years. I am strong so that, I can become useful."
The others stared in stunned horror at Varun. Their brave, compassionate leader had crumbled before them, revealing a self-serving monster beneath the surface. Varun, his eyes wild, met their gaze with defiance. "What are you looking at! You think I am scum? Yes, I am scum. Knowing that you are a scum can save my life, then I will acknowledge myself as a scum."
The air thrummed with the raw, primal instinct of survival. The world was a cruel, unforgiving place where the strong preyed upon the weak; running and surviving were the necessities.
But then, Arjun, a quiet, lanky young man, rose to his feet. His fist slammed onto the table, splintering the wood and sending a spray of blood from the cut on his hand. It wasn't the pain of the wound or the venom coursing through his veins that seemed to pain him, but a wound deeper than flesh.
Arjun began to speaks, "Do you think humans thrive to survive? And do everything to survive? Any worst activities like betrayal to save their own ass?... Ah! Then maybe I am not human or I think you are a SCUM PRINCE." He spoke with a powerful emotional voice, a voice that showed all the pain he was bearing.
"Even if I am weak, I try to help someone. If someone is in pain, I try to be their relief. If some are dying, I try to become their reason to live. But the last thing I do is RUN away. That's what humans are. We always believed that whatever may happen you will save us. We, all are here after our worst and yet you show us that dirty hell we grew up in. You have broken our trust, and you will never claim it." Arjun, his voice cracking with emotion, dissolved into tears, seeking comfort in Dev's arms. The ship fell silent, the weight of their broken faith hanging heavy in the air.
The harsh fluorescent lights of the reality hummed, a stark contrast to the chaos that had just erupted. Captain Andrew, a man whose weathered face usually held an air of stoicism, was now a mask of shock and disbelief. "The antidotes...gone?" he rasped, his voice tight with barely contained panic.
The crewmate, a young man named Patrick, stood before him, his eyes wide with fear. "Yes, Captain. Someone bypassed the guards, rendered them unconscious, and took them all."
Andrew's hand flew to his chest, a wave of dizziness washing over him. "Were any of them...killed?"
"No, Captain," Patrick replied, his voice trembling. "Just unconscious."
A long, shaky breath escaped Andrew's lips. Relief, sharp and desperate, momentarily pushed back the terror. This was a setback, a major one, but not a catastrophe. He barked an order, his voice regaining its usual authority. "Every soldier on this ship, commence a thorough search! Find the intruder! Find him now!"
Then, a chilling realization crashed into him, colder than the metal walls surrounding him. His son, Liam. Liam was in the chamber where they had stored the antidotes, the room deemed most secure. A knot twisted in his gut. "How is my son?" he roared, the question ripping from his throat, his strong jaw clenched.
Patrick flinched, bowing his head low. His voice was barely a whisper, "He is missing, Captain. Gone."
The world seemed to tilt. Fury, raw and untamed, surged through Andrew. He lashed out, his hand connecting with Patrick' cheek with a resounding crack. "If anything happens to my child," he snarled, his voice laced with venom, "I will kill your entire family. I swear it."
Patrick, overwhelmed by his captain's rage, whimpered and peed himself, a dark stain quickly spreading on his pants. He cowered, unable to even look Andrew in the eye.
Suddenly, a new voice cut through the tension, calm and steady as a mountain. "I have your child, Captain."
All heads snapped towards the speaker. It was Safal, standing tall and imposing, his shoulders broad, his dark eyes holding an unnerving glint. He looked like he could tear the ship apart with his bare hands, his presence filling the room and sending tremors down the spines of the crew.
Varun, a seasoned soldier who had been standing beside Andrew, looked at Safal with suspicion. "Are you sure you have his son?"
Safal simply smiled, a predatory curve of his lips. Varun, a man not easily intimidated, felt a prickle of unease.
"Give us an antidote," Varun said, trying to maintain a semblance of control, "or we will kill your son." His threat, however, felt hollow in the face of Safal's unwavering gaze. He remembered Andrew telling Patrick that the antidote was in the child's room. It made him wonder, why did these people want to fight?
Varun gazed at Safal's smile again, noticing something unsettling. It wasn't the smile of someone seeking justice or even vengeance. It was the smile of someone who craved a fight, a challenge. He said, his voice tight with a warning, "Andrew is strong. He's powerful enough to challenge Chief Nishan, himself. You may have defeated me with a mere lucky punch, but you can't do the same to him."
Safal's smile widened, the glint in his eyes intensifying. "Then that's all the more reason to fight with him," he replied, his tone almost cheerful. "What do you say?"
Varun exchanged a worried look with Meera, another soldier who had joined the scene. They both knew, with chilling certainty, that for Safal, revenge was merely a convenient excuse, a means to satisfy his insatiable lust for a fight. He was a predator, and Andrew was now his prey.
The medical boy, already tense with fear and anxiety, was suddenly thick with anticipation. The air crackled with a palpable energy. Safal moved from the doorway, his every step echoing, his gaze firmly fixed on Andrew.
"Let's do this," Safal said, his voice a low growl, and the battle began, a desperate dance of rage, fear, and the terrifying desire for a fight.