Ahab row his ship sailed through the Sea of Stories with Moby swimming beside the ship. They saw a lot of unique, almost miraculous things the whole journey.
The imagination and creativity of human consciousness is magnificent. Humans can almost think about anything. A lot of pieces of fiction soar on the forever night sky above the Sea of Stories.
"This… is nothing like what I have seen before. This is more amazing and magnificent… YES! Magnificent is the right word to describe all of this!" says Ahab.
"Even though humans have a limitation on their knowledge towards the whole universe and multiverse, their imagination and idea still did not reach the limitation finish line despite having created almost countless stories and ideas across multiple types of media." replied Moby while humming whale noises.
"Humans are amazing!" shout Ahab at the vast open Sea of Stories.
After sailing for a while, Ahab and Moby arrive at a portal in the middle of the seas where it has been marked and glowing in the map given from Tom. The portal surrounding is dark and gives eerie vibes showing the high corruption level in the story that they are about to explore.
"Is this place that we need to enter and save the narrative, Moby?" says Ahab while looking around the Portal.
Moby hummed towards Ahab and it translated, "Yes, this is the place. The story was corrupted a long time ago but neither one of us had time to enter and help this story since there are a lot of corrupted stories and problems other than this story. But, still we need to fix it and you now have the power to give this story a happier ending."
Ahab feels a bit nervous and scared. The emotions can be seen from his expression that is filled with worriness. Then, he looked at Moby and said, "Do I really deserve to hold a big responsibility like this, Moby? Do I deserve to give a story with a happy ending because after all I am just the son of a Madman and nothing more."
Moby looks at Ahab who is looking down and his face is showing his felt guilt and burden from his past.
"You're afraid, Ahab. And there's no shame in that. Fear of the unknown is in all of us. Most people who fear the dark aren't afraid of the darkness itself… they're afraid of what might be lurking inside it.
I know you carry the weight of your past, and I know you've convinced yourself you're not good enough because of it. But the past is just that—the past.
If you keep clinging to it, guilt will anchor you to the ocean floor. And a man who never raises his anchor… can never sail toward the future." says Moby while humming a whale song.
Moby continued, "So raise your anchor, Ahab. Leave the past where it belongs… and sail forward.
Even if you believe your future is nothing but darkness, do not fear what waits inside it. Trust that you are strong enough to face whatever shadows lie ahead. Keep moving, step by step, until… somewhere in that eternal night, you see it: the faintest spark of light.
That spark, Ahab, might be what all these corrupted stories have been waiting for… a sliver of hope at the edge of endless darkness.
So be that light, Ahab. Be the small, stubborn flame that refuses to die. And maybe… just maybe… When you've guided others through their storms, you'll find that a light has been waiting for you as well. A reward, not for perfection… but for the courage to keep sailing."
Ahab replied, "…You speak as if it's easy, Moby. To just lift the anchor and sail forward… but you've never felt the chains I carry."
He looks down, gripping the wheel tightly
"Every wave reminds me of my mistakes. Every shadow feels like another storm I failed to weather. I… I don't know if there's a light for me. Not anymore."
He pauses, the sea wind heavy with silence. Then his voice softens.
"…But… if there's even the smallest chance you're right—if there's a light at the end of this darkness, then maybe…" said Ahab while exhaling, almost like releasing a weight.
"…Maybe I can try to find their ending so that I can find mine."
Ahab looked at Moby smiling and Moby let out a happy humming when he saw the smile on Ahab's face.
"Thank You. For believing in me." says Ahab.
Ahab looks at the corrupted vortex of the story that he is about to enter. On his hand is a scroll that explains the story synopsis and what is the corruption it contains. He opened the scroll and the scroll reads:
Story No. 1749 - "The Iron Vow"
Status: Broken / Twisted Narrative
Genre: Medieval Fantasy
Setting: Kingdom of Caer Lune, locked in war with the outside world.
Main Characters:
Eliza the Blind Knight: Sworn protector of the Queen. Blinded as a child. Noble, loyal, emotionally scarred.
Queen Seraphine: Current monarch. Charismatic in public, cruel in private. Hides dark desires behind diplomacy.
Conflict:
Eliza is bound by blood oath to protect Queen Seraphine. Unbeknownst to the people, the Queen manipulates and abuses her, both mentally and physically. Despite this, Eliza upholds her vow.
Corruption Level: HIGH - The story is collapsing under moral paradox.
Unwritten Intervention Required:
Expose or rewrite the vow.
Free Eliza from the twisted loyalty.
Confront the Queen's buried truth.
Ahab's fingers tightened around the scroll, its edges frayed as if the story itself resisted being held. His jaw clenched.
Ahab, quietly says, "A knight who can't see… guarding a tyrant no one else will face."
The words hung heavy, as if the sea itself understood their weight.
Moby's deep, resonant groan rolled across the waves. Ahead, the ocean twisted unnaturally, a vortex made not of water, but of ink and light. Torn parchment pages swirled within it, fragments of stained-glass windows flashing between the waves, each piece showing fleeting visions of a kingdom bleeding in silence.
"Caer Lune awaits. The story is breaking." states Moby.
Ahab stood tall, the wind tugging at his coat. The echo of Moby's earlier words, "be the light in the dark" still burned quietly in his chest.
Without hesitation, he stepped onto the whale's massive back. Moby surged forward, carrying him into the heart of the swirling portal.
As Ahab leapt from Moby's back, his boots struck the vortex's center. For a heartbeat, everything went still, then the world shattered into blinding shards of light, and the war-torn kingdom of Caer Lune unfolded before him.
The moment Ahab's boots struck the vortex, reality fractured.
Light didn't just blind him. It peeled away the world. Pages of forgotten words swirled around him, ink bleeding into the air like smoke. Fragments of glass shimmered past, each one flashing with pieces of a story, the clash of swords, the sound of a woman's scream, a throne bathed in moonlight.
The vortex twisted space and memory together, pulling him through the very bones of the tale. For a moment, Ahab felt himself unmade. His body dissolving into sentences, his heartbeat echoing like the turn of a page.
Then… silence.
Ahab's eyes snapped open. Cold stone pressed beneath his palms. He found himself in a narrow corridor of Caer Lune Arch Gate, walls cloaked in shadow and silver moonlight streaming through tall, arched windows.
Black-armored guards marched past him without turning their heads, their movements soundless. Time itself seemed frozen—the stillness of a story paused mid-scene.
That was the magic of being Unwritten.
Only the broken threads moved with him.
As the portal sealed behind him, the ink of the story bled into his form.
Ahab's navy coat, scorched, seaworn, and heavy with the salt of countless voyages, shimmered like a reflection breaking on dark water. The fabric began to fray and unravel, not into threads, but into lines of unwritten text, curling upward before dissolving into the air.
The Pen at his belt gave a faint hum, like a tuning fork aligning itself to the rhythm of this new tale. The narrative shifted, bending reality to make space for him.
By the time his boots struck the muddy path outside Caer Lune's gates, he was no longer the youngest Navy captain, nor the son of a madman whispered about in old sea legends.
He was—
Elias Harth, humble fisherman.
The transformation had rewritten him:
A weathered linen shirt with rolled sleeves and a coarse wool vestFingerless gloves and salt-stained trousers tucked into muddy bootsA cracked leather apron, its surface marked with faint fish scales and just enough ink-smudges to betray the truth to anyone who knew where to look
In this world, he was a man of nets and tides. But beneath the humble disguise, the current of his true purpose still ran deep.