The air on the ship was almost frozen. Apart from the sound of the waves, there was only the scraping of splintered bones wrapped in bandages against the floor.
The towering island was just a few hundred meters from smashing into the Narwhal when, all at once, its body shuddered violently and toppled, plunging into the sea.
"Wait! Something's wrong, there's something in the water!" Charles dashed back to the ship's edge, leaning so far over that most of his head hung out as he stared into the depths below.
Amid the heaving waves, Charles spotted something even darker than the midnight sea, a mass bristling with red eyes—it was a God, one he had seen once before, deep beneath the waves.
Pain lanced through Charles's head, the whispers at his ears swelling to a roar.
He ignored the ever-worsening mental pollution gnawing at his mind, his gaze utterly fixated on the water. Compared to what he'd witnessed five years ago, there was now something else beside that God.
