The low, rhythmic hum of the ship's engines vibrated through the steel walls of the destroyer, a constant reminder of its heartbeat. Outside, the distant roar of the ocean echoed faintly through the metal hull, the occasional creak of the ship swaying ever so slightly in the morning waves. Captain John Wick opened his eyes to the familiar sights and sounds of life aboard a navy destroyer.

Lying in his narrow bunk, he stared at the ceiling for a moment, letting the steady thrum of the engines center his thoughts. The faint metallic tang of seawater and oil hung in the air, mixing with the crispness of the recycled air. The ship didn't sway much—this wasn't the open sea at its roughest—but the gentle rhythm was enough to remind anyone aboard that the ocean never truly rested.

Pushing aside the wool blanket, Wick swung his legs over the side of the bed, his boots thudding softly against the floor. His quarters were modest—just a small room with barely enough space for a desk, a chair, and his bed—but it served its purpose. The captain's uniform hung neatly on a hook by the door, its navy blue fabric pressed to perfection, gold stripes gleaming faintly in the dim light.

Wick ran a hand through his short-cropped hair, shaking off the remnants of sleep. He stood, pulling the uniform over his shoulders with practiced ease, buttoning it as he moved toward the small desk. A single photograph rested there, propped up in a simple wooden frame.

He picked it up, studying the faces frozen in time. His wife, Mary, stood with an arm draped around their twin sons, Sam and Ethan. Both boys, twelve years old, were grinning widely, their faces radiating the boundless energy of youth. Behind them, the ocean stretched endlessly, the backdrop for a day he now cherished more than ever.

He traced a thumb along the edge of the frame, a small smile tugging at his lips. The ache of being away from them was one he had grown accusJohn ed to, but it never truly dulled. He placed the photo back gently, adjusting it so it stood perfectly upright.

A sudden knock at the door jolted him out of his thoughts. The sound was firm, deliberate.

"Enter," he called, his voice steady.

The door swung open, revealing a man in his late thirties, wearing the standard navy uniform adorned with a silver insignia. His build was sturdy, his expression calm but resolute—a face molded by years of service.

"Sir," the man said, stepping inside and offering a crisp salute. "I've gathered them in the helo bay, as requested."

Wick nodded, fastening the last button on his jacket. "Thank you, Master Chief," he replied, his tone formal but warm.

The Master Chief gave a slight nod in acknowledgment. "We're ready when you are, sir."

"Understood." Wick adjusted his cap, making sure it sat perfectly atop his head. "Dismissed."

The Master Chief saluted again before turning and stepping out into the corridor, the door closing softly behind him. Wick took one last glance at the photo on his desk, then stepped into the hallway.

The corridors of the destroyer were narrow, their walls lined with pipes and cables that hummed faintly as the ship powered forward. Crew members moved with purpose, offering respectful nods as Wick passed. The air carried the familiar scent of salt and steel, a smell that seemed to seep into every corner of the ship.

Wick's boots echoed softly against the polished metal floor as he made his way toward the helo bay. This was his domain, his command. Every hum of machinery, every flicker of a light panel—it all fell under his watch.

As he neared the helo bay, the faint buzz of voices began to grow louder. The crew was assembled, waiting for his arrival.

Wick entered the helo bay, his steps measured and deliberate. The large, open space buzzed with the low murmurs of gathered crew members, but as he approached, silence fell over the crowd. The cold steel walls seemed to amplify every sound—the occasional creak of the ship, the distant hum of the engines. The crew stood at attention, their faces illuminated by the harsh overhead lights. They were hardened sailors, trained for war and survival, but beneath their stoic expressions lay a flicker of uncertainty. The past months had weighed on them all.

Wick stepped up onto the small platform at the front of the bay, his gaze sweeping over the assembled men and women. Their faces told a story of exhaustion and resolve—shadows under their eyes, the tight set of their jaws. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. This wasn't just a mission briefing; it was a moment to remind them why they were here, why their sacrifices mattered.

"It's been five months," Wick began, his voice carrying across the bay with practiced authority. "Five months on these frigid, unforgiving Arctic waters. Five months since we left home with a mission that none of us could have imagined."

He paused, letting his words settle. The crew's eyes stayed fixed on him, their expressions a mix of pride and weariness.

"Our mission," he continued, "was simple, at least on paper: to protect a group of doctors and scientists so they could find a cure for the COVID-19 virus. A virus that has been spreading faster than anyone could have predicted. A virus that has brought the world to its knees."

A ripple of emotion passed through the crowd. Some shifted uncomfortably, others clenched their fists or crossed their arms. Wick could see the strain in their eyes—some filled with worry, others hardened with determination. These were men and women who had left everything behind to serve, and now they found themselves on the front lines of a war they couldn't see or fully understand.

He took a step forward, his voice softening but losing none of its strength. "Yesterday, we received a message from home. A message that none of us wanted to hear."

The room seemed to hold its breath. Wick's tone grew heavier, each word laden with the gravity of what he was about to say.

"Home… is not as we left it. The virus is spreading unchecked, infecting millions every day. Entire governments have collapsed. There is no longer a chain of command, no structure holding the world together. What remains of civilization is hanging by a thread."

The silence in the room was deafening. Some crew members looked down, their faces etched with despair. Others exchanged glances, their eyes asking unspoken questions. The weight of the news was palpable, settling over them like a heavy fog.

Wick pressed on, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling in the room. "The doctors and scientists on this ship are now the only hope for humanity. The work they do here isn't just important—it's essential. If they fail, there is no backup plan, no second chance. Which is why we must do everything in our power to protect them."

He let the statement linger, the enormity of their task sinking in. A few crew members nodded subtly, their expressions hardening with resolve. Despite the fear and uncertainty, there was a spark of understanding. They had a purpose, and in a world falling apart, purpose meant everything.

Wick's tone softened, his voice tinged with something deeper—sorrow, perhaps, or the faintest hint of hope. "I know what you're thinking. I know most of you want to know how your families are. Trust me… I do too. Every day, I think about my wife and my boys. I wonder if they're safe, if they're healthy. If I'll ever see them again."

He paused, his jaw tightening. "But the only thing we can do now—the only thing we can hope for—is that they're okay. That they're waiting for us. And the best way we can honor them, the best way we can get back to them, is to finish what we started here."

The room was utterly still, every eye fixed on Wick. His words resonated, striking a chord deep within each member of the crew. He straightened, his voice firm as he delivered his final words.

"Stay strong. Stay vigilant. And remember why we're here. God bless us all."

For a moment, the only sound was the distant hum of the ship. Then, one by one, the crew stood a little taller, their resolve rekindled. Wick stepped down from the platform, his own heart heavy but steadfast.

Author's Note: Pls read my other books, Shadow Being System and Demon Being System.