One week later
The medical bay of the Dreadnought Thalassa hummed with the quiet, steady rhythm of ancient technology. Soft blue light pulsed from the crystalline panels embedded in the walls, casting a gentle glow across the polished metal surfaces. The scent of antiseptic herbs and the faint metallic tang of the ship's recycled air filled the space, creating an atmosphere that was both clinical and oddly soothing.
Marya lay motionless on the medical bed, her long raven hair spread across the pillow like spilled ink. Her face was peaceful, almost serene, the sharp edges of her usual stoic demeanor softened by unconsciousness. The black void veins on her arms pulsed faintly, and the Heart Pirates insignia on her leather jacket was just visible beneath the thin sheet that covered her.
Sanza Kaplan Figarland stood at the foot of the bed, his small frame rigid with concentration. His bamboo practice sword swung through the air in sharp, precise arcs—Men-uchi strikes, each one aimed at an invisible opponent's head. His red hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, and his heavy Gallagher eyebrows were drawn down over his piercing eyes. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face, tracing a path through the dust and grime that still clung to his skin.
Whoosh. Thwack. Whoosh. Thwack.
The rhythm was hypnotic, almost meditative. His lips moved silently, counting the strikes, his muscles burning with the effort of repetition.
Atlas Acuta reclined in a chair near the wall, his rust-red fur shifting in the soft blue light. His long legs were stretched out in front of him, and he held a meat skewer in one clawed hand, the charred flesh dripping with a savory glaze. He took a bite, chewed thoughtfully, and watched the young Figarland with an expression of lazy amusement.
"Wow," Atlas said, his voice carrying that taunting, feral edge. "That's... really something. You've been doing that for almost an hour."
Sanza's eyes flicked toward him, then back to his invisible opponent. He didn't stop swinging. "This is how you get stronger. Now stop distracting me."
Atlas took another bite, chewing slowly. "I'm not distracting you. I'm observing. There's a difference."
"There is no difference when you're making that much noise with your chewing!"
Atlas's grin widened. "You're not going to make yourself stronger by swinging that stick at the air until you collapse. You know that, right?"
Sanza's jaw tightened. His strikes grew faster, more aggressive. "I know exactly what I'm doing."
"Do you?" Atlas leaned forward, his blue sapphire eyes fixed on the boy. "Because it looks to me like you're trying to hit something that isn't there. And I think we both know what that something is."
Sanza's sword stopped mid-swing. His shoulders slumped, just a fraction, before he forced them back to rigid attention. He lowered the bamboo blade and stood there, breathing hard, his face unreadable.
"Look," Atlas said, his voice softening just a little. "I'm not trying to get in your head, kid. But you've been swinging that thing for an hour. You're not going to be able to focus if you keep all that bottled up."
Sanza's eyes shifted toward Marya's unconscious form. His voice was quieter now, with the weight of confusion and hurt. "My big bro."
Atlas nodded, his expression turning serious. He set the skewer aside and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Yeah. I figured."
Sanza walked over to the chair beside Atlas and sat down heavily, the bamboo sword resting across his knees. His small hands were trembling, and he clasped them together to still them. His voice was barely a whisper. "He tried to kill Big Sis. Why?"
Atlas was quiet for a moment. He ran a hand through his rust-red fur, the charcoal tufts on his ear tips twitching. "I don't know, kid. I really don't. But I don't think it was something Marya was expecting either."
Sanza looked up, his eyes searching Atlas's face. "What do you think?"
Atlas sighed, picking the skewer back up and using it to pick his teeth. "I think... he's lost, kid. I think something happened to him that broke something inside. And instead of trying to fix it, he's lashing out. Hurting the people who care about him because he doesn't know how to let them in."
Sanza was quiet, processing. Then his voice came again, soft and uncertain. "I thought he would come with us. I thought... I thought he would want to see what it's like."
Atlas tilted his head. "What what's like?"
Sanza looked up at him, his piercing eyes shimmering with something that might have been tears. "What it's like to go on an adventure. I mean, home is great, but..." He trailed off, gesturing vaguely.
Atlas's smirk returned, warm and knowing. "It's boring."
Sanza's eyes snapped to meet his. "Yeah! Exactly! I mean, there's so much out there, so many things to see and do and learn, and he just—he just stayed. Like he didn't even care about any of it."
Atlas nodded slowly. "I know what you mean. That's why I left. I wanted to see what else there is in the world. But not everyone is like that. I left a lot of people behind who don't ever want to leave."
Sanza blinked. "Yeah, but... why wouldn't they? Why wouldn't anyone want to see what's out there?"
Atlas shrugged, his voice carrying a note of simple truth. "Don't know, kid. It's just how people are. You can't worry about that. The only thing you can do is focus on you and the people you care about. Make sure they're safe. Make sure they know you're there for them."
Sanza nodded, his expression turning a little dark. "I know. That's why I have to get stronger. So I can protect the people I care about. I won't let something like that happen again. I have to change. I have to become more."
The chair creaked as Atlas leaned forward, his blue eyes fixed on Sanza with an intensity that made the boy freeze. His voice was low, serious. "You already are, kid. You're already changing. You're already becoming more. Don't you see that?"
Sanza opened his mouth to respond—
And then Doctor Octavious materialized above Marya's bed.
The holographic octopus appeared in a shimmer of blue light, his portly form wobbling with each movement. His small, round spectacles flickered with data streams, and his six, flexible tentacles waved with anxious energy. His voice emerged, carrying that distinctive quaky vibrato that made him sound perpetually surprised.
"Oh! Oh dear! The patient is showing signs of—of—" He paused, his spectacles flashing. "Signs of returning consciousness! Beep! Beep boop boop! I was not expecting this! Not at all! I was calibrating—"
Atlas and Sanza both rushed to Marya's bedside.
Marya's eyes began to flutter, her lashes trembling against her pale cheeks. Her breath hitched, and her fingers twitched against the sheet. Slowly, painfully, her golden eyes opened.
Her gaze was unfocused at first, swimming in the haze of consciousness. She blinked once, twice, then lifted a hand to her head, her fingers pressing against her temple. Her voice was a rasp, weak and uncertain. "What..."
Doctor Octavious whistled and beeped, a cascade of medical alerts that would have been alarming if not for his cheerful tone. He shone a light in her eyes, the beam flickering with each glitch, and pressed a tentacle to her wrist to check her pulse.
"Excellent! The pupil response is—is—" He flickered, his form shimmering. "Adequate! The pulse is stable! The patient is alive! Success! Boop!"
Marya's eyes slid to Atlas and Sanza, her gaze sharpening with recognition. Her voice was still weak, but there was a hint of her old fire in it. "Why are you two looking at me like that?"
Atlas grinned, his blue eyes gleaming. "Hey boss. Welcome back."
Marya groaned, pushing herself up on her elbows. The sheet fell away, revealing her leather jacket and the Heart Pirates insignia. She blinked, her eyes sweeping the room. "What... what happened?"
Sanza's eyes were wide, his voice trembling. "Big Sis! Your right eye!"
Marya's brow furrowed. "What about it?"
Atlas reached for a small mirror on the bedside table, handing it to her with a smirk. "Take a look."
Marya took the mirror, her fingers wrapping around the cool metal. She raised it to her face and froze.
Her reflection stared back at her—but it was different. Her right eye, once a golden ringed hawk-eye like her father's, was now half gold and half silver. The silver shimmered with a faint, celestial light, and the gold held the familiar intensity of the Dracule bloodline. The two colors swirled together at the border, like two worlds colliding.
Marya blinked. The silver and gold shifted, then settled. She lowered the mirror, her expression unreadable.
Atlas's voice was calm, gentle. "You remember what happened?"
Marya's eyes dropped as she attempted to recall. The memories came flooding back—Neku, the battle, the transformation, the silver light. She made an audible sigh, the sound carrying the weight of everything she had been through.
Sanza perked up, his voice filled with awe. "You were amazing! I have never seen anything like that!"
Atlas reached over and ruffled his hair, his grin widening. "No one has, kid. No one has."
Marya swung her legs over the side of the bed, her bare feet touching the cool metal floor. Her voice was flat, but there was something else beneath it—a note of curiosity, perhaps, or concern. "Where is everyone?"
Atlas rubbed the back of his neck, his expression shifting to something that was almost awkward. "Well, about that..."
Sanza, confused, his head swiveling between Atlas and Marya, blurted out, "They are helping Vesta get ready for the concert and meeting with the council to finalize the flag posting ceremony."
Marya raised a brow, her voice flat. "Flag posting ceremony."
Atlas's smirk returned, but there was an edge of awkwardness to it. "Yeah... A lot's happened. You may want to stay sitting for this."
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