Sonia sat at the entrance of the hotel that had been temporarily provided for them. She had walked through the entire floor in search of Esther, but there was no sign of her. Sonia thought that perhaps Esther had gone outside.
Leaving the girl alone made Sonia feel deeply uneasy. But since she herself was unfamiliar with the city, going out to find Esther without getting lost seemed impossible. She sat down on the marble floor of the hotel lobby, near the entrance, waiting for Esther to return.
Sonia didn't know what secret was hidden by Rain. Even though he had told her that knowing its true nature could bring the world to danger, the more she heard that, the more it only made her curious.
Of course, she trusted Rain. After the heroic acts he had carried out, it was clear that he genuinely wanted to save everyone aboard the ship.
That was the reason why Sonia had changed her mind and didn't tell Esther about the secret passage in the engine room. While Rain had saved her life, the matters at hand were separate. But it was clear that Esther was emotionally sensitive. Could it be that she had feelings for Rain? They were probably around the same age, and he had protected her several times. It wouldn't be surprising if she had developed feelings for him.
But if that were true, it would give Esther another reason to know about it. Sonia reminded herself.
It was then that a tall Egyptian man rushed through the door of the hotel, carrying a limp body in his arms.
Sonia noticed the blonde hair trailing on the floor and the blood staining the body as it dripped down.
A sense of foreboding forced Sonia to run after the man immediately.
"What happened?" she asked, catching up with him.
She quickly swallowed her words when she glanced at the limp figure in his arms.
Esther was as pale as paper. She was convulsing intermittently, and blood was flowing in a steady stream across her face.
As Sonia looked at her blood-soaked friend in stunned silence, the man turned to her and shouted urgently, "Get the doctor, quickly!"
Sonia turned away, rushing to comply. She shouted to the hotel staff in the lobby, who, upon noticing the trail of blood leading across the carpet, immediately recognized the urgency. He ran ahead to guide them, "This way!"
The staff led them through the opulent corridors where Washington crew members were enjoying the festivities. They watched the procession with alarmed or puzzled expressions.
Finally, the hotel staff opened a door that led to a room, indistinguishable from the others, except for the white surgical bed placed in the middle. It was surrounded by tables stocked with medical instruments and surgical tools.
The Egyptian man gently placed Esther on the bed, while the staff rushed outside to fetch a doctor.
With only the stranger and herself in the room, Sonia decided to question him with cautious tone, "Now, will you tell me what happened to my friend?"
He turned to face her, his brown eyes gleaming with the authority of someone experienced. "I recognize your voice. You're the communications officer who discovered 'something's' weakness," he said, his deep voice somehow familiar.
"You recognize my voice?" Sonia asked, finally recognition dawned on her as she recalled the raspy voice from the radio. "You're the captain of the Tutankhamun, aren't you?"
"We never properly introduced ourselves, did we? I'm Captain Sayid, Supreme Commander of the Egyptian army," he said, extending his hand to her.
Sonia clasped the man's hand, his firm grip making her wince in pain.
"I'm Sonia, communications officer of the Washington." she introduced herself.
"In the name of the people of Egypt, we owe you a debt of gratitude. What you've done has saved countless lives." His voice was sincere, and he bowed his head deeply.
Sonia paid little attention to his words of praise—this was not the time for that. Instead, she turned toward Esther. The slender woman, clad in a white t-shirt now stained deep red with blood, was breathing faintly. She looked calm, showing no signs of pain. Sonia focused on the large amount of blood on Esther's face—there were no visible external wounds, yet it seemed as if the blood had come from her left eye, which was tightly shut. The dried blood crusted along the lower eyelid made it look as though Esther had wept tears of crimson.
"What happened?" Sonia asked again, her voice trembling.
Sayid's expression darkened. "She walked up to the corpse of… 'something.'" The Egyptian commander hesitated as if he didn't know how to continue. "I'm sorry. I thought taking her for a walk around the city after everything that happened would be a good idea. This… this is my fault."
Sonia couldn't bring herself to answer right away, still too caught up in her emotions. The bitterness in her chest only deepened as she looked at Esther, lying in a pool of her own blood. Her skin was deathly pale, her body twitching with every small breath she took. Sonia had never seen her friend like this before. It was a sight she wasn't sure she could handle.
She took a deep breath and sat down next to Esther's bedside. Sonia had been pacing restlessly for what felt like an eternity. She hadn't expected such a quick and sudden attack, and now she couldn't help but feel helpless. How could she have been so careless? She thought, running her hand through her hair.
"Why... why didn't you stop her?" Sonia asked, her voice cold and distant. She had to admit, part of her understood that this wasn't entirely Sayid's fault, but the anger was still simmering within her. She wasn't angry at Sayid, not entirely, but her frustration needed an outlet.
Sayid glanced at her with a face full of remorse. "I... I didn't think she would run straight to the corpse of that thing…" he muttered, rubbing his temples. "I'm sorry. I should've known better."
Before Sonia could respond, the door burst open, and the same Egyptian doctor who had treated Rain rushed in with Arthur and Holland close behind.
"Esther!" Arthur practically screamed as he saw his daughter's condition. Holland immediately grabbed his shoulder, stopping him from running to her bedside.
"Calm down," Holland said in a commanding tone. "Let the doctor do his job."
The Egyptian doctor carefully examined Esther's body, checking for injuries. "Where are the injuries?" he asked Sayid after flipping Esther's face carefully.
"I can't see it clearly, but I think one of the tentacles may have pierced her eye," Sayid said with furrowed brows, clearly unsure.
Arthur's face went pale as he stared at his daughter. "What happened to my child?"
"Stay calm," the doctor said, checking Esther's pulse. "The head injury is severe, but as long as she's still breathing, the tentacle probably didn't reach her brain."
Arthur's face twisted in disbelief, slowly turning to anger. "Are you telling me that it's a good thing that my daughter might be blind?"
He tried to shake off Holland's grip again, but this time Holland pushed him hard against the wooden wall. The impact made the picture frame hanging on the wall fall and crash to the floor.
"Yes," Holland said firmly, "blindness is better than death. You need to calm down, Arthur. I understand you're worried about your daughter, but right now, all we can do is stop panicking and let the doctor treat her, right?"
Arthur stood still for a moment, considering Holland's words. Finally, with a slow nod, he allowed himself to relax, letting go of his anger, and Holland released him from the wall.
At that moment, the doctor, having finished his external examination of Esther, put on a pair of rubber gloves.
"I'm going to examine the injuries in her eye now," the doctor said, his tone soft and professional. He gently placed his hand above Esther's closed eyelid.
The room fell silent as they all waited for the results.
When the doctor finally opened Esther's eyelid, the reaction was immediate.
Esther screamed, arching her back as if the pain was unbearable, her body convulsing violently.
The Egyptian doctor flinched, retracting his hand in shock as he tried to hold Esther down, whose body was convulsing violently on the operating table. "She's having a seizure! Someone help hold her down!" he shouted urgently, his voice trembling with fear.
But no one moved. The room was filled with the sound of Esther's screams, echoing off the walls.
Sonia could feel her own face going pale, likely no different than the others standing around her. Her body trembled from the sheer terror that seized her.
Esther's screams were rising and falling, fluctuating from high to low, over and over again.
Sonia had heard this sound before.
"Step back!" Sonia screamed, her voice laced with panic.
Then, there was an explosion of sound, followed by the room turning bright red.
Everything went silent, save for the sound of liquid dripping to the floor.
Sonia slowly raised her hand to wipe something wet from her face. As she looked at it, she realized it was a lump of grayish flesh, soaked in blood.
The Egyptian doctor's head was missing from the upper jaw down. Blood gushed out from what was left of his neck, dripping in large, ominous drops, pooling beneath his remaining lower jaw. His spine protruded from his skin like jagged bone.
As the doctor's lifeless body collapsed onto the floor, Sonia's gaze shifted, and she finally saw Esther.
Esther had stopped screaming. She was sitting still on the operating table, her body drenched in blood. Her left eye was the only one open, and her amber eye shone faintly with a yellowish hue, glowing dimly.
One hand was resting on Sonia's shoulder.
Sonia jolted, her body jerking backward in surprise, only to find Captain Sayid standing nearby, his worried eyes fixed on her.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
Sonia scanned her surroundings. The luxurious room remained pristine, except for the small trail of blood dripping on the floor when Sayid had placed Esther on the bed. The Egyptian doctor was still standing over the blonde girl, and she appeared untouched, no visible injuries, still alive, nothing seemed wrong.
What on earth had just happened?
Sonia's body refused to stop trembling. Her hands were cold, and every hair on her body stood on end.
"I'm fine," she whispered, brushing Sayid's hand off politely, her voice soft and strained.
Sayid continued to gaze at her, and Sonia knew her face must be as white as paper.
Luckily, it was the doctor who drew everyone's attention before she had to respond. "What is this?" he asked, his voice full of surprise and disbelief.
"What's going on?" Arthur demanded, his voice filled with panic.
The doctor didn't answer right away. He merely stepped aside, allowing everyone to see with their own eyes.
Esther sat up on the operating table, looking around confusedly. Her eyes were bright blue, without a single wound. Though the trail of blood running from her left eye still stained her cheek, her expression remained calm.
"What happened?" she asked, looking at everyone in the room, her voice soft, as though she had simply awoken from a strange dream.
And then Arthur rushed forward, enveloping Esther in a tight embrace, his face full of disbelief, still trying to make sense of what was happening.
"Esther!! You're still alive!"
Everyone in the room exhaled collectively, their breath a shared sigh of relief, their faces lighting up once more with joy and smiles as they turned to one another.
Except for Sonia.
Sonia's hand trembled as she clenched it into a fist, her nails digging painfully into her skin.
…
The image of Esther's left eye glowing amber lingered in Sonia's mind, keeping her awake throughout the night.
Could it be just her imagination?
Esther had no visible injuries. She claimed she fainted upon seeing the whale carcass, and Holland had concluded that the creature wasn't truly dead and had used its power to control Esther, striking through her.
There were many aspects of the story that felt off. Sonia had questioned the witnesses, including Captain Sayid, and he explained that Esther had walked into the mouth of the whale before being pierced in the eye by one of its tendrils.
"It's possible it missed," he had said.
Missed?
After having controlled Esther to walk right into its mouth?
Sonia wanted to believe that her friend had miraculously survived without a scratch, just as the Egyptian doctor had claimed.
But after that, Sonia had kept her distance from Esther. She tried talking to her, but despite Esther's calm demeanor and confident tone, Sonia couldn't shake the sense that something was off. Was her smile forced? Was her voice always like this? As more doubts crept into her mind, Sonia found herself unable to face her friend.
She turned over, staring up at the dark ironwood beams above her head. A soft cough came from outside, followed by the faint sound of footsteps and quiet laughter drifting down the hallway. The party seemed to continue on into the night.
Sonia slowly turned back, trying to find a position that was most comfortable for her tired body, while her thoughts continued to churn over Esther.
Of course, 'something' could have killed Esther if it wanted to. Why had it allowed her to survive, unharmed?
Unless… something had come back with her.
She decided to get up from the bed, put on her engineer's cloak, and pick up a lantern.
…
The Caiman Tavern stood across from the luxurious hotel, and with the glowing neon signs flickering along the dimly lit street, it became an irresistible destination for Sonia. She crossed the marble road and pushed the tavern door open.
Inside, the tavern was almost empty. The materials used for the furnishings—the floors, walls, and ceiling—were polished oak wood, exuding a sophisticated atmosphere befitting a tavern in a high-end hotel district. Nearly the entire space was taken up by a long oak bar counter, shaped like a ship, with high round stools without backrests lined up along its length. Sonia chose a stool near the exit and sat down.
The bartender rose from behind the counter. He had a handsome face with blonde-dyed hair, and his smile made Sonia quickly avert her gaze in embarrassment.
"What can I get for you?" he asked, still smiling.
"Anything," she replied absently.
As her eyes scanned the rows of liquor bottles behind the bar, she noticed they were all expensive wines—aged for years, made from plants that took years to cultivate. She immediately realized she wouldn't have enough money to afford even a single glass.
"Uh, excuse me…" She turned to see the bartender pouring a drink into a glass for her and almost screamed. "I don't think I can pay for this. I didn't ask for the price—I'm so sorry!"
He placed the glass in front of her, still smiling. "Don't worry, Miss Sonia. It's on me."
She felt her face flush, and when he winked at her before walking to the other side of the tavern, she was left flustered.
"How's it feel to be a hero?"
Sonia turned toward the voice coming from across the bar. Holland was sitting there, his feet propped up on the counter, a cigarette lazily hanging from his lips.
"I don't know," she replied. "I guess it's better than being a Soviet spy?"
He chuckled. "I owe you an apology for that. But you have to understand, when you're on a long journey in a confined space like a submarine, having a spy mixed in was something we had to deal with quickly."
She nodded, unsure of how to respond. Sonia picked up her glass and took a sip. The bitter, harsh taste of the wine warmed the tip of her tongue.
"I should thank you too," he said as he extinguished his cigarette.
"Stop," she said, "I hardly did anything—just operated the radio from the back." She was tired of the endless praise.
Holland lifted a bottle of liquor from the table and took a swig. "When I came to, the knife in my hand was pressed to Rain's throat." He placed the empty bottle down on the table and motioned for a new one from the bartender.
Sonia glanced at the pile of empty bottles beside Holland. She counted about two dozen. "Captain, you've had enough."
"You don't understand," he lifted the bottle and took another drink. "What you did matters more to this world than you think."
The thought of telling Holland about the secret passage in the engine room evaporated in an instant. Sonia could tell that the Captain of the Washington was well and truly drunk. She looked at the deep red liquid in her glass, the fruity sweetness of the wine hitting her senses. "Is this how it always is? This journey in the Sunless World?"
"No," Holland raised his glass, taking a sip. "By now, some of us should've been dead."
"Aren't you afraid?" she asked, her gaze fixed on the liquid in her glass.
"Afraid of what?"
"I've never left Under D.C. before. Since I boarded this ship, I've felt afraid the whole time—afraid of the darkness, of people, of the monsters, afraid of dying…" Sonia lifted the glass and took a swig, the wine's warmth starting to settle inside her, her face heating up. "How do you live with it?"
"What do you think?"
"I think you and Rain have just gotten used to it."
The Captain smiled. "I guess it does seem that way."
Sonia stared at him, waiting for him to continue.
"In truth, Sonia, I'm afraid all the time," Holland admitted, exhaling as he tossed the empty bottle onto the floor. He placed a cigarette between his lips. "Afraid of choosing the wrong course. Afraid of getting too close to my crew. Afraid that every decision I make will cost someone their life."
"Then why don't you quit?" she asked. "Quit being a captain, quit the sea?"
"Because fear isn't something that comes and goes. It's instinct—something we carry as humans," he said, lighting the cigarette. "No matter what you do, you'll always be afraid. Afraid of stepping too far into relationships, afraid of your own stability, afraid of failure in your career. But do you know what makes it different? On the Sunless Sea, when you step into the shadows, you'll know surely that a monster is lurking there. But on land?" He let out a slow breath of smoke. "You can't always tell the difference between monsters."
Maybe he was right.
Sonia thought of her life in Under D.C.—the long days working the docks, dragging her aching body back home, curling up under piles of thick blankets, surrounded by the dim glow of her radio controls in the underground room where she could be herself. She had spent her nights spinning the dials, listening to voices from all corners of the world.
But on the Washington, she no longer had to endure grueling labor just to savor a few moments of peace before bed. Here, the work was hers—her purpose.
The job of her dream.
Her shift began when the ship's lights flicked on at dawn and ended when they dimmed again at night, alternating turns with the other radio operator, Diz—a small, black-haired woman who always wore glasses. Sonia had only exchanged words with her a few times during shift changes, but they had never really spoken.
Her duties aboard the Washington were painfully simple—monitor incoming and outgoing communications, broadcast orders during depth changes, and report relevant transmissions. That was it. She had been stunned at how little was actually required of her.
"Can I use the receiver to scan external frequencies?" she'd once asked Matthew, who was showing the engineering crew around the ship.
"Of course. As long as we're not in radio silence mode. Let me know if you hear anything interesting." He had winked at her, grinning.
And so, her days were spent tuning into frequencies, listening to voices drifting across the Sunless Sea—the chatter of fishermen reporting their catch, coast guards describing the bodies they found on raided ships, stray transmissions from careless operators who forgot to switch off their microphones.
Her life was… simple.
Sonia tilted her head back, finishing her drink in one gulp before holding out a hand toward Holland. The captain, already anticipating the request, tossed her a bottle.
"What are you afraid of?" he asked.
She poured another glass, hesitating.
Should she tell him everything? About the hidden passage? About Esther?
The memory of a gun barrel pointed at her flashed through her mind—Holland's cold, unflinching stare behind it.
If something really had taken hold of Esther, would he hesitate to put a bullet in her, just as he had been ready to execute Sonia when she was accused of being a Soviet spy?
Would he see her as just another threat to be eliminated?
She opened her mouth, but instead of confessing, a different question slipped out.
"Will Rain be alright?"
Holland sighed, taking a long drink before answering.
"I don't know."
"His blood isn't of any known type. Does that mean he's never bled this much before while traveling with you?"
Holland exhaled slowly, watching the lazy spirals of smoke drift toward the ceiling. "Rain never used to take risks like this. He never disobeyed orders or challenged my plans before. He's changed..."
Sonia had the distinct feeling he was talking more to himself than to her.
"So you don't know either, do you? When—or if—he'll wake up."
Holland closed his eyes, his grip on the bottle loosening until it slipped from his fingers and rolled across the floor.
Sonia listened to his deep, steady breathing for a while before downing the rest of her drink in one swift motion and rising to her feet.
"Thank you for your patronage," the bartender said as she reached the door, pausing just as she was about to push it open. "There's a museum nearby—the Giza City Archives. If you're interested."
…
From a sleepless night, to a bar, to a museum.
Sonia found herself surprised at how the night had unfolded, though she still wasn't quite ready to return to her room.
The museum stood like a monument of carved marble, massive and intricate. Its walls bore ancient etchings, its structure an artistic masterpiece in itself.
She stepped through the grand entrance into the foyer, where even the ceiling and walls had been meticulously engraved.
As she spun slowly in place, admiring the craftsmanship, a voice called out.
"Apologies, but the museum is closed for the night."
A small girl emerged from behind a wooden reception desk at the center of the room.
Her cloak pooled around her feet, far too large for her frame, while her messy brown hair stuck out in all directions. Judging by her sleepy expression, Sonia realized she had likely woken her. The girl couldn't have been older than ten.
She reminded Sonia of Esther.
For a brief moment, Sonia regretted never visiting Under D.C.'s museum. If she had, perhaps they would have met much sooner.
"That's a shame. I'll come back another day, then," Sonia said, already turning to leave.
"Wait!"
The girl hurried toward her, eyes now fully alert.
"I might be able to give you a quick tour before we close… as thanks, for saving my family."
Sonia's lips curved into a genuine smile.
For the first time that night, she felt like a hero.
…
"No one knows how it happens," the young curator explained, leading Sonia through the museum's grand halls. "But Egyptian scholars believe that the ceiling of the cavern above our country holds hundreds of millions of tons of sand. Some claim that the grains seep through fractures, forming cascading sandfalls. Others propose a more cyclical system at play, though none have managed to explain how it truly functions."
Sonia folded her arms, considering. "That doesn't make sense. Sand isn't like water—it doesn't evaporate. If it keeps falling, then Egypt should have been buried beneath dunes long ago."
"The government does deploy workers to remove excess sand and dump it into the Sunless Sea," the girl admitted. "But there's still no definitive answer to the mystery."
The conversation flowed easily between them as they moved past towering relics and intricate murals depicting Egypt's lost past. The young curator spoke of the ancient tombs of Pharaohs, filled with deadly traps; the architectural marvels built from carved sandstone; the skeletal remains of long-extinct desert creatures, preserved in time.
Sonia thought of Esther.
She would love this place.
A shadow of melancholy settled over her.
"The next exhibit is the last one," the girl announced as they approached a set of massive doors. "It's the most valuable artifact in our collection."
Sonia put on an excited expression. "What is it?"
The girl's eyes sparkled.
"When the last Pharaoh of the Old World fled to this new one, his legendary submarine—the Cleopatra—became a relic passed down through our navy. Before it was destroyed in the war against the Reich, it was said to house a powerful artifact. This is all that remains of it."
She pushed open the heavy doors.
Sonia stepped inside.
And froze.
"This is only a replica," the curator admitted. "The real artifact is stored in the research institute at New Cairo. No one has been able to decipher its inner workings yet." The little girl paused when she saw Sonia's Expression. "Are you alright?"
Sonia barely heard her.
"What... is that?"
The girl tilted her head. "The researchers call it an Obelisk. They believe it's an ancient machine from the Old World, a generator capable of producing boundless energy. They say the Cleopatra never needed to refuel—not even once. Can you imagine? If we had just one functioning machine like this, we wouldn't need to burn wood or manufacture electricity anymore. It would be the dawn of a new era. A world where we could build our own submarines, where entire cities could be illuminated by a single artifact—"
Sonia wasn't listening.
Her gaze locked onto the towering monolith in the center of the room.
A structure of smooth, jet-black stone.
A surface untouched by time, flawless on all sides.
Tubes and wires slithered from its base, coiling into the floor like veins.
She had seen this before.
Inside the engine room of the Washington.
She recalled the mechanic's log—how they had siphoned blood through those very tubes.
"It's not an engine," the log had said.
"It's something else."
A machine from the Old World.
Sonia thought of Rain's warning, how he had sworn that uncovering the truth of the Washington's engine would put the world in danger.
Maybe he had been right.
Terror crept into her bones.
She thought of Esther. Of her eyes, glowing amber in the dark.
It could've been the wine.
It could've been something else.
Either way, despite the fear tightening around her heart—
Sonia walked out of the museum, having made her decision.
She would risk her life.
She would risk the world.
All to save her friend.