Muscles burning and hands raw from the relentless assault, Chris summoned every ounce of strength to pry the ancient pages apart. His teeth clenched tightly, veins bulging beneath his skin as his body tensed beyond its limits. The seams of his shirt strained and tore, unable to contain the swelling power coursing through him. The tendrils of divine energy had shifted—no longer mere lashes, they had become cruel, jagged spears piercing his flesh again and again, each strike sending fresh waves of searing agony through his battered body.
But Chris refused to relent. Through gritted teeth and blinding pain, he forced his way between the stubborn pages, determined to open the Book and restore the world Cecilia deserved.
Outside Deck Zero, Cecilia stood frozen, her breath caught in her throat. Around her, Bustamante and Murillo watched with tense hope as the torn skies began to stitch themselves back together, and the waters of the Kasanaan slowly rose, reclaiming their natural flow. Yet, despite the signs of healing, Cecilia's eyes were filled with mounting fear. Every agonized scream echoing from within the chamber shattered her heart anew, each cry a brutal reminder of the price Chris was paying.
Her hands clenched tightly, knuckles white, as she fought back tears. "Hold on, Chris," she whispered, voice trembling. "Please… don't give up."
With a final, guttural cry of sheer will, Chris forced the ancient pages of the Book of Life and Death apart. A colossal wave of raw, blinding energy erupted, sweeping through the chamber like a storm unleashed. The force slammed into Chris, hurling him backward with brutal violence. He crashed onto the misted floor of the forbidden deck, breath knocked from his lungs, body aching from the impact.
Yet, through the haze of pain and exhaustion, a faint, victorious smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He watched as the shockwave surged back to the Book, then exploded outward in a magnificent cascade of light and power. The very fabric of the world trembled in response, the veil beginning to mend, the stagnant waters slowly reclaiming their course.
But the triumph was fleeting.
The shockwave expelled Chris from Deck Zero, and Cecilia's breath caught in her throat as she saw him land hard on the gold deck with a sickening thud. Panic surged through her veins as she rushed to his side, dropping to her knees to cradle his battered head in her lap.
"What have you done?" she cried, voice breaking under the weight of helplessness. Her eyes roamed over the countless wounds marring his body—burned flesh, torn muscles, blood pooling and seeping relentlessly from gaping cuts. His arms and hands, once steady and strong, now trembled weakly.
When he felt her arms around him, he let out a smile. "Look, Cee! We did it; the world is healing…" Chris coughed violently, crimson flooding his mouth as blood filled his lungs, choking him. Cecilia's heart shattered with every ragged breath he took. "…the chaos receding, and life has returned to its natural flow, with balance restored." He smiled at her sweetly, despite his severe injuries.
Then, horror gripped her anew—a cold, sinking dread that eclipsed all else. His wounds, which had always healed with a touch or time, now lay raw and stubbornly open. The healing light she expected was absent.
"What's happening?" she whispered, desperation threading through her voice. "Why aren't your wounds healing? Why aren't you getting better?" Tears blurred her vision as the terrible truth settled like a stone in her chest: the cost of opening the Book had drained his strength, and the divine energy severely damaged Chris's body beyond repair. The man who had carried the weight of countless souls was breaking—fragile, mortal, and slipping away before her eyes.
In that moment, victory tasted bitter, and hope felt painfully fragile. A profound stillness settled over the world as the Book of Life and Death reopened, its ancient pages glowing with renewed light. Slowly, the fractured fabric of reality began to mend. The torn skies stitched themselves back together, clouds shifting and swirling into familiar patterns, and the dull gray horizon brightened with the soft hues of dawn. Rivers frozen in time stirred once more, their waters flowing freely, singing songs of renewal as they carved paths through the land.
The air grew alive with the scent of earth and rain, rich and sweet, as plants unfurled fresh leaves and blossoms burst open, reaching toward the returning sun. Forests breathed deeply, and animals stirred from their uneasy stillness, their movements fluid and natural once again. The gentle hum of life returned—birdsong, rustling leaves, the distant murmur of streams—filling the world with vibrant energy.
In towns and cities, new cries echoed as the first newborns came into the world, their breaths sharp and full of promise. Elsewhere, the peaceful passing of the elderly brought tears mingled with relief, their souls finally free to journey beyond. The cycle of life and death, once broken and stalled, now pulsed steadily, restoring balance and hope.
Invisible currents of spiritual energy wove through the land, guiding wandering souls toward rest and welcoming new lives into existence. The world, once caught in a suffocating twilight, now shimmered with the radiant glow of renewal—the eternal dance of beginnings and endings resumed, promising that even after the darkest night, dawn always returns.
"CHIEF!" Cecilia shouted in panic, desperately calling the two officers, seeking their help for the dying Chris.
Bustamante quickly placed his hands on the captain's wound in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding, but to their horror, the chief officer's hands just phased through Chris's body. Bustamante was shocked beyond words as he looked at his trembling hands. Murillo tried to do the same, but she could no longer touch the captain; they became intangible to him. "Chief, what is happening? Why can't we touch the captain?" Murillo's panic surged through her words.
"Th-the captain is dying!" He looked around him as the ship and the other crew members all began to flicker; they were losing their substance.
"Dying? What do you mean by dying? He can't die! He's the captain of the Twilight." Cecilia looked at him with shock and anger in her expression, for her, he was immortal and indestructible. But as he lay in her arms, life slipping away, she was forced to confront the bitter truth…he was not immortal and far from indestructible. "FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE, HE JUST SAVED ALL OF EXISTENCE!" She screamed and shouted at the top of her lungs. "This isn't unfair…this is so unfair…" She tightened her embrace of the captain.