Amidst the swirling semi-transparent white mist, Rain sealed the pressure door behind him, his eyes locking onto the last enemy standing at the heart of the engine room.
The soldier wore a black, form-fitting combat suit, a mask and camouflaged helmet concealing his face. One hand gripped a katana, the other leveled a sidearm directly at Rain.
Ren paid no heed to the threat. He was certain that the enemy's ammunition had run dry after the recent exchange of fire.
He stepped forward, unhurried. One hand clenched around the assault rifle he'd wrested from the previous squad, the other reaching for the sheathed blade across his back.
Rain never favored guns. Efficient? Yes. Practical? Undoubtedly.
But they lacked elegance.
"You're a damn good opponent... I've been wanting to cross swords with someone like you for a long time." The soldier discarded his pistol. "Let's settle this."
Rain couldn't tell if it was out of necessity or desire.
The enemy readied his blade, feet planted, stance firm—
an invitation.
On any other day, Rain would have tested his defenses. He would have searched for openings. But today—
His body was shredded with wounds. His limbs screamed for relief.
He had only one thought:
To end this fight as quickly as possible.
He lifted the katana high above his head, then launched forward. His strike came down with all the force left in his body.
The enemy reacted instantly. He twisted his blade horizontally, bracing for impact.
The clash of steel rang like a war cry.
But in locking swords—
His opponent made a fatal mistake.
Rain raised the rifle in his left hand. He pressed it to the soldier's skull. Leaving no room for him to evade or counteract.
And pulled the trigger.
His opponent's face was frozen in disbelief.
As the impact drove him backward, his body collapsed to the ground.
Rain let the empty gun slip from his fingers, letting it clatter onto the lifeless body at his feet. He could have fired the moment he entered—but a stray bullet might have struck the ship's engine. That was a risk he couldn't afford.
For a moment, he stood still, listening.
Nothing moved.
The battle was over.
With a weary sigh, he sank to the floor, placing his katana beside him. Each breath sent sharp waves of pain through his ribs—a cruel reminder of the fractures beneath the bandages.
He traced his fingers lightly over his chest, finding spots damp with blood. Not enough to be a problem. The wounds hadn't reopened.
Satisfied, Rain let his thoughts drift back to how he got here.
The last thing he remembered was the missile.
The blinding flash.
The impact throwing him off his feet.
And Esther—
Had he been carrying her?
Had she survived the explosion?
But no matter how hard he searched his mind, the answers weren't there.
When he awoke, soldiers surrounded him. Clad in the same uniform as the man he had just killed. Sonia and Will were there too. Guns were trained on them. So his instincts took over and identified that group of soldiers as an enemy. He took the opportunity to escape when the lights went out.
They were well-trained and well-armed, but they were strangers to this ship.
He wasn't.
He took out the rearguard first, stole his weapon— Then, in the dark, picked them off one by one.
In hindsight, he should've left one alive. Interrogation could have been useful to gather more information. Who sent those soldiers here? What is their mission purpose?
But thinking about that right now would be futile. It was too late.
No sign of Sonia or Will among the bodies. Which meant they were taken alive. Likely already off the ship.
Rain exhaled slowly. He needed to think. He needed—
A soft cough echoed from above.
Sonia stood with her arms crossed before the hidden door.
She wore a black leather jacket—taken from the engine room locker—over her standard-issue orange engineer's uniform and black shorts. The jacket was far too large for her small frame, its hem falling to her bare knees. The heels of her boots tapped rhythmically against the metal floor, an unconscious cadence of restless thoughts. Behind her, Will followed—his military uniform disheveled, his face pale as though he'd stared into death itself.
"You took them all out?" Sonia asked, glancing at the bodies scattered around them.
"Not all," Rain replied, his voice muffled beneath layers of bandages. Even speaking sent sharp pain lancing through his skull. He had almost forgotten how heavy Holland's fists were.
"They were an assault unit, but they never thought to block the exits. That means others might still be waiting outside."
Sonia parted her lips to ask another question, but Rain raised a hand to stop her.
"My turn to ask—what the hell happened?"
Sonia hesitated.
Then, finally, she spoke.
"We did it. We killed the creature and saved everyone. The doctor said you should have died. You lost nearly all your blood and were unconscious for days."
That explained the stitches beneath his wrappings, the bandages wound tightly around his torso.
But there was still one thing that didn't add up.
"Then why the hell am I here?"
Will turned to him, his expression grim.
"Sonia lost her damn mind. She hooked you up to the ship's engine."
"I—" Sonia interjected, "The doctor said you needed blood. But your blood type—it's not in any known category. And I remembered... in the engineer's logs, they drained six liters of blood from that stone every day."
"You didn't need to do that!" Will snapped. "We don't even know what that thing is! For all we know, whatever liquid it produces only resembles blood. What if it's something else entirely?"
"You said you trusted me!"
"I did." Will gritted his teeth. "That's why I helped carry Rain here. But now I need to hear your reasoning."
Sonia fell silent for a long moment, her mind searching for words. Then, in a quiet voice, "I saw the same stone in Giza's museum. They called it the Obelisk. The researchers there believed it was an energy generator from the Old World—an unlimited power source. So I thought…"
"So you thought injecting some unknown substance from an ancient machine into Rain's bloodstream was a good idea!?" Will's voice rose in exasperation. "I can't believe I agreed to bring him here for this! That could've killed him, Sonia!"
"I know that!"
Her voice cracked,
but then it hardened.
"But tell me, Will—who else is going to save Esther?"
Rain looked up, forcing his lips to move despite the pain.
"What happened to Esther?"
Sonia hesitated, her gaze uncertain.
"You two won't believe me… Maybe I really did lose my mind after facing that 'thing'."
With effort, Rain pushed himself to his feet, his movements slow and deliberate.
"You're not insane. In fact, your instincts were right." Then, he met Sonia's gaze, steady and unwavering. "What you did saved my life. I won't explain the Obelisk any further, but if you were willing to gamble my existence to save Esther, then I'll trust you."
"You're not mad at me? You could have died," Sonia said softly, avoiding his gaze.
Rain suspected she felt guilty—guilty that she had valued Esther's life over his. But he didn't particularly care.
"Didn't I just say you saved me?" Rain exhaled sharply. "Now, are you finally going to tell me what happened to Esther?"
…
Rain stepped onto the deck.
At the very least, he hadn't been shot yet.
In fact, the deck was eerily empty.
"Didn't you say they'd be waiting for us?" Will followed behind, an assault rifle scavenged from one of the dead soldiers held ready in his hands.
"You sound disappointed." Sonia muttered from the rear. "Do you really want someone to be waiting to ambush us?"
Rain ignored them both. He strode toward the railing.
Then, his steps slowed.
Sonia and Will must have noticed his change in demeanor. Both of them moved to stand beside him.
"What the hell…?" Will's voice was hushed, his disbelief evident.
Beneath them, sprawled across the pier, were dozens of bodies in near-identical combat uniforms. All of them lay in grotesque, lifeless heaps. Blood pooled beneath them, dripping over the pier's edge, staining the black waves crimson.
Slowly, carefully, they made their way across the blood-slicked gangplank.
Sonia nearly slipped—but Will caught her arm before she could fall.
Rain stepped down onto the walkway and crouched beside the nearest corpse."Shot in the head…" Will's voice came from just above him."All of them," Rain added, scanning the other bodies sprawled around them."Must've been one hell of a sniper," Sonia mused.
Rain studied the bullet wounds again.
"It might not have been a sniper at all."
Sonia turned to him. "What do you mean?"
"Every single bullet hole is at the temple. So unless there's a marksman out there with godlike precision…"They all pressed the gun to their own heads and pulled the trigger."
Silence fell over the group.
They didn't need to say it.
They already knew what kind of force could drive this many people to simultaneous suicide.
A force that could seize the minds of many all at once.
Will shook his head, unable to comprehend it. "Are we really saying this was Esther's doing?"
"Not her." Sonia was quick to correct him. "It's the 'thing' inside her."
"So it really did… transfer into her?" Will swallowed hard. "Then what the hell do we do?"
"That's why I woke Rain up." Sonia turned to Rain, eyes filled with expectation. "Can you come up with a plan?"
Rain's gaze shifted toward the city of Giza.
"Where was Esther when you brought me back to the Washington?"
"The hotel," Sonia replied. "The one the Egyptian government put us in."
Rain's expression hardened. "And the rest of the Washington's crew? They're still there?"
"Yeah, why?" Sonia narrowed her eyes. "Wait… are you saying you already have a plan?"
Rain shook his head."We're not going to do anything to help Esther yet. Right now, there's something more important."
Sonia's face darkened. "What could possibly be more important than saving Esther?"
Rain turned back toward the bodies littering the ground.
"The lives of the entire crew." His voice was grim. "There's no time. These men were a strike team sent by the Egyptian government to seize the Washington.
"We need to get everyone back on board—now."
Sonia and Will exchanged uneasy glances.
"They told us they were here to check for remnants of the 'thing,'" Will murmured. "I thought it was suspicious, but… how do you know for sure?"
"There's only one reason to send an armed unit aboard someone else's submarine—seizure." Rain's voice was firm as he crouched and yanked a sniper rifle from the corpse of a fallen soldier. "The African Confederation lost nearly half its forces to the 'thing.' And the Washington is a fully armed military submarine. If I were in their position, I'd do the same"
Rain rose to his feet, leveling a gaze at Will and Sonia. "Why are you still standing around? Go get the crew."
Sonia hesitated. "And what about you?"
Rain pulled back the bolt on his newly acquired rifle. A spent casing clattered against the bloodstained dock. "I'll buy you as much time as I can."
"Then I'll stay and help." Will grabbed a spare magazine from another corpse.
Rain nodded in approval before turning toward the gangway, ready to position himself for a last stand.
"There might be a better way." Sonia's voice made both boys pause.
"You have a better plan?" Will asked skeptically.
Sonia crossed her arms. "I don't know if it'll work, but…"
"I might have a way to make the Egyptian military let us go."
Rain and Will exchanged glances before turning back to her expectantly.
"Let's hear it."
…
Holland stepped into the control room looking only slightly better than Rain. His face was bruised, his body marred with cuts from something sharp."Looks like someone already gave you a beating on my behalf." Rain smirked as Holland slumped into the captain's chair, utterly exhausted."Since when did you become such a grudge-holding brat?" Holland winced, pressing a hand against his mouth as his injuries protested.
"Should I call Heisenberg, Captain?" Matthew asked, concern evident in his gaze.
"No. First, we're getting the hell out of here." Holland shook his head. "Prepare for departure, Matthew"
"Whose idea was it to rile up the crowd?" Holland turned to Rain. "Brilliant strategy—though my ears are still ringing from their shouting."
"Sonia's idea." Rain leaned against the console. "You have no idea how many bars we had to hit before we gathered enough people."
"The Egyptian military sent an assault team to seize the Washington, didn't they?" Matthew asked.
"I handled that." Rain's voice was casual. "I woke up and decided to take a nap on the ship."
A terrible lie—but no one was going to suspect him of needing one.
"Those Bastards." Hector clenched his teeth. "Same dirty tactics they pulled in the Battle of New Hawaii. Typical Egyptians."
"Did you kill Zayid?" Holland's gaze bore into Rain, sharp and unwavering.
Rain held his silence for a moment before answering.
"Yeah. I didn't have a choice."
Holland continued to stare, as if searching for something deeper in Rain's expression.
But then—A voice crackled through the ship's intercom.
"Docking bridge raised. All departure preparations complete."
"Prepare for departure." Holland exhaled and turned away. "Submerge to thirty meters. Request clearance from port control to open the northern floodgates."
Matthew moved toward the door to relay the orders to the communications team but paused. He leaned toward Rain, whispering, "You should grab some bandages and alcohol for him. I think he's too stubborn to admit that he needed them"
Rain gave a small nod of agreement and followed Matthew out of the control room.
At the stairwell, they parted ways—Matthew ascending, Rain descending to the fourth deck.
The infirmary was dimly lit, the air thick with the faint scent of antiseptic.
Rain's gaze flickered toward the open notebook on the table. Heisenberg is shading a painting of a whale.
Without looking up, The ship's doctor spoke, his voice low and measured. "Do you even realize what you've done? You've just killed a very special creature"
Rain didn't engage. "Bandages and alcohol."
"Did you know that whales are intelligent and clever creatures?" Heisenberg traced another delicate stroke onto the page, deepening the shadows of the whale's massive form. "They communicate through sound frequencies—complex, intricate. They hunt together. They mourn their dead. Just like us humans, right?"
Rain reached forward and snatched the notebook off the table.
"Violence." Heisenberg sighed, finally releasing his pencil. "That's always your answer, isn't it?"
He pushed himself up from the chair, moving toward the medicine cabinet.
"Seems to work pretty well." Rain said. He set the notebook back down as Heisenberg returned, carrying two rolls of bandages and a bottle of antiseptic. "Two rolls?"
"Because yours need changing too." Heisenberg pressed the supplies into Rain's hands. "And clean your wounds properly this time."
As Rain turned to leave, Heisenberg called after him.
"Violence only works… as long as your enemies can't fight back.""So, I hope you're absolutely certain… that your enemy is truly dead."
Rain didn't respond.
Instead, he simply shut the infirmary door behind him.
He moved down the corridor, passing crew members busy with final departure procedures.
Finally, he reached the door to his shared cabin with Holland. The room was practically empty. Neither he nor Holland spent much time here—both preferred dozing off in the control room. As a result, the cabin remained spotless, untouched by use.
Rain stepped inside, leaving the door ajar—his hands were occupied with medical supplies.
He sat down on the lower bunk, setting the items beside him.
Then, slowly, painfully, he peeled off his coat.
The fabric clung to dried blood, tugging at his wounds as he removed it. Underneath, a gray t-shirt—soaked with sweat and marred with streaks of red.
Raising his arms to pull the shirt over his head, Rain gritted his teeth. Even the simplest movements sent agony rippling through his ribs. With a sharp exhale, he tossed the stained clothing onto the floor.
Everything about this departure had been rushed—He hadn't even had the chance to wash himself, let alone follow proper maritime rituals.
'I'll clean up later.' The thought barely solidified before another wave of pain coiled through his abdomen. He winced. Twisting his torso had triggered a fresh surge of protest from his battered muscles."Need help?"
A familiar voice from the doorway.
Rain lifted his head.
Standing in the doorway was Esther.
She wore a yellow leather vest over a white t-shirt, paired with black jeans.
She looked exactly as she had the day he met her—sitting on that bench outside the fish market in Under D.C. Except—Her blonde hair now cascaded past her shoulders, brushing the middle of her back.
And her brows furrowed in concern as she gazed at him.
"Sorry for the trouble." Rain answered.
At his permission, Esther shut the door behind her. She stepped closer, settling onto the edge of the bed beside him.
The same awkward, uncertain energy from that day at the fish market crept into his chest.
"I never thanked you." Her voice was quiet as she unwrapped the bandages from his shoulder. "You saved me... again. Thank you."
Rain didn't know what to say, so he said nothing.
He simply sat there, letting her work in silence.
Then he noticed the change.
When the last of the bandages fell away, Esther had stopped moving.
He turned his head. And She was crying.
Tears slipped down her cheeks, leaving glistening trails in their wake. Her gaze was locked onto his body, taking in every scar, every wound—old and new.
"That bad, huh?" Rain glanced down at himself.
Scars littered his skin, a testament to every fight, every struggle. To him, they were nothing unusual. Just part of living on the Sunless Sea.
"Why do you have to help me?" Esther's voice was barely above a whisper. "You barely know me."
Rain frowned.
Not because he lacked an answer—but because he didn't understand the question.
"Do I need a reason to save you?" His voice held nothing but quiet confusion.
Esther didn't reply.
She only continued to weep in silence, her shoulders trembling as she reached for a cotton swab soaked in antiseptic.
Rain let her work, enduring the sting as she cleaned his wounds.
The silence stretched between them.
Only when she finished wrapping the last bandage did Esther finally rise to her feet and walk toward the door.
"Don't try to help me again." She spoke without turning around.
Rain stood up.
There were so many questions on his tongue—
Yet none of them felt right.
Before she could open the door, he caught her wrist.
His grip was gentle, uncertain.
"What do you mean?"
It was the only question that came to mind.
Esther slowly turned back to face him.
"It means she wants you to let her die."
Her voice was eerily calm.
And Rain found himself staring into those amber-lit eyes.
"Your kind has built an intricate system of thought." Esther continued, her tone unwavering. "A mind so advanced that it surpasses all other species—beyond compare.""And yet…" She closed her right eye, leaving only the left one—glowing, piercing—fixed upon him. Tear stains marked her cheeks, yet her face betrayed no emotion. "…your kind cannot even comprehend one another."
Rain froze as she reached for his hand—
And guided it gently to her cheek.
He could feel the dampness of her tears beneath his palm.
Her skin was warm, soft.
Too human.
"Your species evolved to express emotion through your face." Her voice was as steady as ever. "You crafted language—words to define the things you feel."And yet, you still don't understand what she feels."
Rain pulled his hand away, stepping back.
Something about her words… unsettled him.
"…What do you want?" The words finally slipped past his lips.
Esther smiled—
But it wasn't human.
"To learn."
She answered simply.
"I want to understand your kind.""I want to know…"
She took a step closer.
"What would you do...if you had to destroy the very thing you wanted to protect?"
Her golden eye gleamed like a sun drowning in dusk.
"What would you do… if you had to protect something you don't even understand?"
She turned, reaching for the door.
"How will you protect her… if she doesn't want to be protected?"
Esther stepped forward, pausing only for a moment.
"I want to see if you can find the answer."
Then, she was gone.
All that remained was Rain.
Standing alone—With nothing but the weight of her words—
And the lingering dampness of her tears, still staining his palm.