The wreckage of the cruise ship was eerily quiet as Zack led the way through a narrow corridor. The faint glow from patches of moss provided just enough light to see, casting strange shadows on the cracked walls. Every creak and groan of the ship's broken structure set Zack's nerves on edge, but he pushed forward, his focus unwavering.
"We need something to defend ourselves," Zack said, his voice low.
Jess nodded, clutching her arms as if to ward off the chill in the air. "You think those things are still out there?"
"Definitely," Josh replied grimly, glancing over his shoulder.
They entered what used to be a dining area. Tables and chairs were scattered across the floor, some overturned, others crushed under debris. The air was heavy with the scent of damp wood and salt.
Zack scanned the room, his gaze settling on the remains of a small kitchen area partially visible through a collapsed wall. "There might be something useful in there," he said, gesturing toward it.
The kitchen was a mess. Cabinets hung open, their contents spilled across the counters and floor. Broken plates and utensils were scattered everywhere, and water dripped steadily from a cracked pipe overhead.
Zack rummaged through a drawer, pushing aside rusted silverware until his hand closed around a sturdy handle. He pulled out a large kitchen knife, its blade chipped but still sharp enough to do damage.
"This'll work," he said, handing it to Jess.
Josh was inspecting a nearby cabinet when he let out a triumphant sound. "Found this," he said, holding up a crowbar. The metal was slightly bent, but it was solid and felt heavy in his hands.
"Good," Zack said, nodding.
As he continued searching, his foot bumped into something metallic. He looked down to see a long, thin pole, its end jagged and sharp. It was a piece of broken railing—or maybe part of an umbrella stand—but it was sturdy, with enough weight to make it a decent weapon.
Zack picked it up, testing its balance in his hands. At first, he was surprised by how light it felt, but then he realized something else—he felt different. Stronger.
The muscles in his arms flexed effortlessly as he gripped the pole, and the weight that should have felt cumbersome now felt negligible.
"Zack?" Jess asked, noticing his expression.
He shook his head, gripping the pole tighter. "Nothing. Just feels… lighter than I thought it would."
Josh frowned. "Lighter? Dude, that thing looks like it weighs a ton."
Zack didn't respond immediately. Instead, he gave the pole a few experimental swings, the movement coming easily, almost naturally. It was like his body had been tuned to a higher level of efficiency, and the realization sent a strange thrill through him.
"Whatever's happening to us…" Zack muttered, "it's not just them." He gestured vaguely toward the direction of the creatures they had seen earlier.
Jess tightened her grip on the knife. "You think it's connected to this place? Or… that rift?"
"Probably," Zack replied, his tone grim. "But we don't have time to figure it out right now. We need to keep moving."
With their makeshift weapons in hand, the three of them continued deeper into the ship. The uneven floors and blocked hallways forced them to take detours, but Zack felt a growing sense of confidence with each step.
The weight of the pole in his hands was reassuring, and the strength coursing through his body made him feel capable—like he could protect them if it came to that.
They passed through another corridor, their footsteps echoing in the silence. The wreckage was a maze, but Zack couldn't shake the feeling that something—or someone—was watching them.
"Stay close," he said, his voice steady but firm.
The others obeyed without question, their trust in him unspoken but clear.