Aaron's eyes fluttered, closing gently as he realized what had arrived, a warm feeling of comfort settling over his body.
G-Ghostship…
The thought of a soul bound to a vessel the same as his own brought him temporary solace, an emotion that wouldn't last long as a searing pain engulfed his index finger.
Turquoise particles exploded in such a magnitude that they drowned out the sun, the world itself spinning around the boy.
Attempting to force himself awake, he could do nothing against the heavy weight of his own injuries, backlash eating away at him.
His eyes closed slowly, head falling gently against the deck as his consciousness faded from the world, a mysterious presence emerging from within.
The Naelith, a resident inside Aaron's mind, suffocated from fear, forcing itself into a deep slumber to prevent meeting this presence.
If Penelope hadn't been consumed by her own endeavors, she herself would've been silenced, drowned out until merely a fragment remained.
It was as if an iron wall had been built around the boy's skull, impenetrable and unyielding, a force meant to keep away even the divine.
And as an unwanted array of heavenly eyes descended upon the Dimension of Waves, they were met with nothing but a strange ripple in reality.
Aaron's presence, completely erased, as if he had never existed.
…
Silence louder than any sound spread across the sea, evading the looming danger that bellowed over the horizon.
The magenta vessel emerged from the white mist, reality ripping itself apart to greet a king's arrival.
King Lepaie Thalor Quinn, The Dreamer, had broken through the dimension barrier, appearing ahead of the Oblivacis solemnly.
The creature's volcanic tail ground to a screeching halt as its senses caught the presence of a crushing force emerging from the ship.
Such an aura was suffocating, freezing the monster where it stood, submission achieved without even a single strike.
Yet this wasn't the end, nor was it even the beginning, a door aboard the vessel bursting open, revealing the powerful figure himself.
His long purple hair was streaked with gray—in the few short months since the disaster at Sea Fallen and the disappearance of Orion, he had aged considerably.
And while the wrinkles on his face deepened and the sad look behind his eyes grew places beyond a human, this man was still a Sea King.
Click.
A single round was loaded into a rifle, a thick scope fastened to the top where the man placed his eye.
The terror in the waves shook as the reflection of the sunlight coming from the scope glimmered atop its forehead.
Quinn's finger tightened around the weapon's grip, adjusting every component perfectly to take the shot.
Then, when the conditions were just right, a shattering—BANG!—resounded through the sky, tearing away at the air like it was paper.
Before the monster could even react, a hole the size of a cannonball jutted through its forehead, eviscerating scale, bone, and flesh all the same.
On the magenta-sailed Ghostship, cheers echoed across the deck.
"Way to go, captain!"
"Extra booze tonight!"
"Drinks on me!"
The excited ramblings of sailors burst through the ship, not a single man or woman questioning whether the creature was dead.
While the partying might have been early, they were justified in their actions, as even if it survived the preliminary blow, it wouldn't survive a second.
White-billowing steam cloaked the creature's body, hiding it from sight as the purple-haired Sea King furrowed his brow.
"An Oblivacis. Norman fought many back in his youth and even forged the very armor I wear today out of one's shell…"
Looking down at the prim soldier's uniform he wore, he pressed against the cloth lightly, feeling the warm tinge of metallic plating beneath.
At his right, Irvin Webley stood firm, his hair blowing in the wind as he gazed in the opposite direction from his captain.
"Sir, there seems to be another ship heading away from this beast. The hull is nearly incinerated, and I can sense two lifeforms aboard."
Bowing his head as Lepaie turned his gaze away from the monster, watching the small vessel fade in the distance.
Confusion furrowed onto his brow for a moment, his lips curling upward as he spoke with concern laced apprehension.
"Someone survived an encounter with an Apex… How intriguing…"
He paused for a moment, scanning the ship again with more precise eyes.
"But Irvin, there is only one lifeform aboard that vessel. That noble runt from the Steinfeste family, right? Matthew sent me a telegram about him…"
Shaking his head in annoyance, he scoped in at the beast in the distance again, interrupting his conversation with his first mate.
BANG!
Another bullet shot out faster than sound, warping along the air currents and changing trajectory high in the sky.
Instead of another headshot, this one headed for the Apex's weak spot, one easily exploitable for anyone who knew of it.
In a streak of brilliant magenta mist, the metallic shell sliced through the creature's blowhole, delving straight into its interior.
Tearing through layer upon layer of rock and magma, it collided with a pulsating orb of condensed iron, shattering the already cracked surface.
There was a pause, the monster keeping perfectly still while its hot veins of magma cooled, orange turning to black as its eyes faded out.
And then, a fate that befalls any terror who dares face a King, finally met the youthful Oblivacis, who just wished for freedom.
Its body crumbled from the inside, no scream, no pain, only a slow and quiet death, one that wasn't suited to a murderous monster.
Lepaie knew of this, yet his own principles dictated that he give it a painless death.
Whether it was human or terror, agony was all the same.
Wiping the sweat off his forehead, the middle-aged man turned his gaze back to his startled first mate, who looked at him with concern.
"Y-You can't see that blond-boy on that boat?"
There was a thick silence in response to Irvin's sudden words, one that sent a strange feeling of curiosity through the older man's heart.
"There is no blond child aboard that vessel. Only an elderly warrior's burned corpse and a wounded noble."
His reply was firm, resolute, and unchanging.
Lepaie Thalor Quinn, a man spoken of as the seventh strongest in the world, was unable to see a single child that lay right before his eyes.
…
Sitting in a run-down hotel bar, a pink-haired girl stretched her arms out wide, a quiet yawn escaping her lips.
"Man, I'm beat…"
Placing her forehead against the wooden counter, she exhaled heavily, picking up the bottle of Hithersbrew at her side.
Her hand felt the cold condensation of the clear substance melt into her fingers, her lips only a hair's breadth away, when she felt a pointy digit poke her back.
Rolling her eyes and turning around slowly, she was met with the sight of a disheveled old man, teeth yellow as piss and eyes as bloodshot as a crime scene.
"M-missy… W-W-Wanna have a drink with me—"
The words barely left his mouth before the barrel of a short gun dug into his scalp, Akari's nonchalant expression staring blankly at his own.
Audible gasps echoed through the room with a displeased look making its way across the bartender's face.
The girl herself only sighed, looking down at her nails without so much as a sliver of hesitation as she clicked off the safety.
Opening her mouth only a fraction of a centimeter, she spoke one sentence, not an ounce of malice or guilt to be found in her voice.
"One more word and you die."
Her index was wrapped firmly around the trigger, a moment away from an action she couldn't take back.
The man's eyes widened, stumbling backwards as he stammered out words faster than his tongue would allow.
"I—I-I'm s-sorry! P-Please, d-don't–don't kill me!"
His red eyes flowed with wet tears as he trembled fiercely, panicking as his life was on the verge of being snuffed out.
Seeing this, Akari only let out a groan, releasing the trigger and re-engaging the safety with haste.
Of course, she couldn't leave the man off scot free and placed a hard kick to his chest, sending him flying across the room and breaking a table to pieces along the way.
Turning her gaze back to her drink, she quickly grabbed the bottle, making her way to the exit without another word.
Around the bar, there was not one noise that echoed through the space, whether out of fear or respect for the terrifying teenage girl.
As she reached the door, she flipped her eyes towards the gasping man who lay on the floor, his pants soiled and blood dripping from his head.
She paused for a moment, pondering something before slipping one hand into her pocket, pulling out a small pouch.
"For the damages."
With only a nod, the girl chucked the tiny sack behind her, landing it perfectly in the bartender's hands.
The ringing of the door chimes resounded through the chamber as she left without another look back.
After confirming she was truly gone, the bar owner turned his attention to the bag she had left behind, opening it slowly.
Five gold coins, all imperial age and worth a fortune in modern currency.
Completely forgetting what the girl did to his bar and his customer, the man's smile beamed with such joy that one could've compared it to the sun.