Chapter 215
The ocean stretches endlessly behind us, the rolling waves reflecting the deep blue of the twilight sky. The ship sways gently beneath my feet, and the salty air is thick, clinging to my skin and filling my lungs with every breath.
The crew has gathered on the top deck, standing in a loose semicircle, their faces drawn with tension. They know something is coming, something big. And for once, I wish I could tell them they’re wrong.
Tai stands with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable but his body language tight, his stance braced for bad news. Tyler is beside him, eyes darting between Cora and me, brow furrowed in concern. The rest of the tech team is clustered behind them, shifting uneasily.
A few feet away, Andreas and his team of researchers stand stiffly, waiting. Arista and Silo flank a group of Euclideans I don’t recognize—new faces, strangers whose expressions range from wary to outright grim. No one speaks. They’re all waiting for us to tell them what fresh chaos is about to descend.
Cora is at the center, as always. She radiates an unshakable calm, but I see the tightness around her mouth, the way her hands remain stiffly at her sides instead of folded neatly in front of her.
Wake stands beside me, his presence steady and grounding, his sharp gaze scanning the crew like a predator taking stock of its pack. I’m supposed to help explain everything, but my pulse pounds in my ears. This moment, this gathering, is bigger than me. It’s bigger than any of us.
Cora clears her throat. The murmuring dies instantly.
“We need to update you on everything that’s happened since we left,” she begins, her voice even but heavy with meaning. “Khale has ascended. He manifested as Tanagora’s Heir and has been named Dawn King. He now leads the Eternal Sunrise Clan.”
A ripple of stunned reactions spreads through the crew like a sudden wave crashing against the hull. Andreas’ eyes widen in shock. Silo lets out a low whistle, shaking his head. Tyler’s mouth parts in surprise before he regains his composure, muttering a quiet, “Holy shit.” Even Tai, who is usually as easy going as a Sunday breeze, stiffens.
Silo speaks first, his voice measured but laced with an edge of disbelief. “That means Ao is… ours now.” His gaze flickers between Cora and Wake, as if waiting for confirmation. “If the Dawn King is one of us, then we have access to one of the largest armies in the ocean.”
“Exactly,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “But it’s more than that. Khale taking power disrupts everything. The old order of Ao is gone, and with it, Enigma has lost control of one of its strongest footholds in the Enkian world.”
Arista steps forward, urgency in every line of her posture. “Then we need to go to him. If Khale has claimed the throne, he’ll be facing backlash. Challenges to his rule. People will be looking for any excuse to take him down before he even settles in.” She looks around at the others. “He needs us.”
Wake shakes his head. “He doesn’t need us there.” His voice is firm, final. “He needs us elsewhere.”
A hush settles over the crew, heavy with expectation.
I take a deep breath, bracing myself. “While we were in Ao, we learned more about the Darklite mining operations.” I pause, scanning the faces in front of me, letting the weight of what I’m about to say settle. “It’s bad. Bigger than we thought. Enigma isn’t just collecting Darklite—they’re stockpiling it, experimenting with it. And we still don’t know why.”
A tense pause follows, broken only by the distant sound of waves slapping against the hull.
Tyler speaks up, voice skeptical. “And you think the answer’s on the island?”
“Yes,” Cora says simply. “Because we can’t afford to let them keep working in the shadows. Khale’s takeover will force them to adjust. When an organization like Enigma scrambles, they make mistakes.”
Wake steps forward, his presence undeniable, his tone commanding. “Now is the time to strike. They will not have the luxury of subtlety anymore. They will be desperate. And desperation leads to errors. Errors make them easier to track, easier to corner. This is the moment we’ve been waiting for.”
Andreas exhales slowly, his complexion pale under the deck lights. “And you think all of this ties back to Leviathan waking?”
I hesitate, glancing at Wake before turning back to the crew. “That’s what we’re going to find out.”
Cora nods. “It’s become a significant part of our mission. But it’s not the end goal.”
There’s a shift then—a subtle but undeniable one. The crew doesn’t relax, not fully, but I see the way their postures change, the flicker of something determined in their expressions. They trust Cora. If she says this is the way forward, they’ll follow.
Then Cora exhales, and something changes. A crack in her usual composed armor. The air around us seems heavier.
“There’s something else,” she says, quieter now, but no less powerful. “My sister is being kept in that facility. She has been for decades.”
The silence that follows is deafening.
“I thought she was dead,” Cora continues, her voice tight, controlled. “Until Phoebe told me otherwise. Enigma has kept her locked away all this time, and I cannot—” She stops, her jaw clenching, her hands balling into fists. “I cannot bear the thought of Delphinium suffering, believing I abandoned her.”
Tai shifts where he stands, his face unreadable. Then, after a long pause, he turns to Tyler, placing a firm hand on his nephew’s shoulder.
“You don’t have to explain,” he says simply, his deep voice cutting through the thick silence. “As far as we’re concerned, Delphinium is one of us. We’ll do whatever it takes to help set her free.”
Something in the air shifts again—this time, with purpose.
Silo nods. “We take the fight to them. We do it smart, but we do it now.”
Arista crosses her arms, smirking. “Finally, something we all agree on.”
Tyler grins, nudging Andreas, who still looks stunned but nods all the same. Arist straightens his shoulders, his expression hardening into something resolute.
And just like that, the course is set.
Tai claps his hands together, the tension breaking with a force almost tangible. “Well then,” he says, a smile creeping onto his face, “what better way to prepare for war than with a feast?”
A murmur of agreement rolls through the crew, the weight in the air lifting slightly. The mission ahead is dangerous. No one denies that. But for the first time in a long time, we have a common goal, a reason to move forward.
And I realize then, as laughter slowly returns to the deck, that maybe—just maybe—there’s still hope.
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