This journey was proving to be longer than Charles had imagined. After fifteen straight days, they still hadn't found the island with the Key.
The island didn't move in a straight line; it sometimes meandered in circles on the seafloor. They hadn't traveled far, but Charles had wasted a lot of time. Regardless, the Narwhal had to keep going. After all the trouble they had gone through, they couldn't just quit.
However, the first mate laid a spreadsheet in front of Charles, revealing a new problem: they were out of supplies. He had prepared before they set out, even setting aside plenty of food and fresh water just in case. But no one could have guessed that the island would actually grow legs and walk away.
"We must... save supplies... for the return journey..." Bandage reminded Charles from nearby.
"I know, I know. Let me think." Charles gripped the sheet, scratching his head as he walked toward the Captain's Room.
