"How long has it been now…"
It was nearly midnight, and Eleanor had long since retreated into her own cabin for a brief nap before the transition into the World Between.
Aaron sat alone on the deck of the Ghostship with his eyes staring out into the sea ahead of him.
Currently, to create as much distance between civilians and wherever they would open the rift, they had decided to travel North, to the one place where there would certainly be no people.
He had ventured to the hellish waters of the Abyss once before and nearly met his end at the hands of an Apex-level terror, a haunting event that still left him physically and emotionally scarred.
But it wasn't that which left him staring into the darkness of the night in the present; rather, the future that rested ahead.
"It's almost been one full year since I disappeared from home…"
Even as he said the word, it sounded foreign, like something that wasn't his, something that was utterly fake.
The Aaron Grimstall who had seen horrors beyond human imagination and the Aaron Grimstall who had fished his days away on Strava were two completely separate people.
He did not know whether that boy whose consciousness had been overridden still existed anywhere within him, nor did he know what would happen to the current self if the other returned.
And that fact scared him more than he was willing to admit.
Rescuing Eleanor had only been the first step in the winding journey that he had embarked on, the sacrifices now laid out before him at the end of the road appearing soon to come.
"I can feel your gaze on my neck. No need to hide."
He didn't move his head as his turquoise eyes drifted towards Mr. Crab, who watched from the top of the mast.
The tiny crustacean stood still for a moment before leaping from its perch, landing at the boy's feet, and staring up at him in silence.
They stayed like that for a long while, neither making a sound nor even taking a breath, their deadlock of emotional tribulation erasing the meaning of time.
"You can feel it too, eh?"
The corners of Aaron's lips curled upward, his eyes glazing over as if he had activated his Mana Vision.
"I've only a little over a month until it'll consume me."
He felt the aura around the crab tense slightly.
"A little over one month to train with a swordsman who can split the heavens."
The boy paused, taking a slow breath.
"A little over one month to fight against Azaroth Pane."
The ocean's breeze blew through the deck, chilling both individuals who were immersed in their thoughts rather than the world around them.
"A little over a month… A little over a month…"
Aaron's voice faded off as he tilted his head downward, allowing gravity to claim the weight of his skull and force his anguish inward.
Mr. Crab remained utterly silent, simply staring at its captain without a clack, a click, or even a snap.
Long gone were the days when the Grimstall boy lamented his death; rather, all that remained was the time he had left.
So many things he wished for, so many opportunities that would pass him by.
The people whom he had met, the people who he was dear to, the people who would suffer without a force fighting for them.
There was no real justice in the world, and he knew that for a fact, whether it be through the kidnappings and trafficking he heard as if it were a daily occurrence, or the deaths of thousands being treated as if it were a game by some.
Yet, even Aaron had to acknowledge one singular fact that stood out among the words he so publicly stood by.
"If this is the so-called 'Hero's Journey', then that path will end in failure."
He exhaled hard.
"I'm a failure, plain and simple. I'm too weak to aid the Sea Kings and too strong to do nothing. I was granted a power that I don't understand and can't control. I'm a pawn in a four-dimensional game of chess that I can't fathom, and the bets of the upper dimensions govern my life. I'm a pathetic complainer who is too afraid to confront death head-on."
The crab's eyes remained steadfast.
"Heh… I just don't want to die…"
There was a certain exhaustion that fell along with his words, a kind of solitude that could only be known in those marked for the end before their inevitable demise.
He was one of them, those who were on death row, per se; however, by his own will.
Slowly, he stood while wiping his face with his hand to clear away the darkness that clung to his flesh.
The miasma circling around the Ghostship bit away at his mana as it tried to eat away through the defenses, the Abyss approaching fast.
Would that place hold the answers I need?
For a moment, he stood there in silence, watching, waiting for a sign that would prove his question correct.
Yet, as if a cruel joke by the universe, there was not even a flicker in the fog, a change in the waves, or a gust of wind.
Aaron exhaled as he heard Eleanor's footsteps gradually begin to climb up from the lower level; their time to transition to the other side here.
No more complaining. I've put all my eggs in one basket, and it's time for me to live up to the expectations I've set upon myself.
As the blonde-haired girl made her way up to the top level of the Ghostship, barring the crow's nest, the turquoise-eyed boy stared off into the sea.
Once again, that fog, the heinous mist that threatened to consume all existence, stared back at him, mocking him.
Like before, it was layers upon layers of inky darkness with miasma thick enough to kill attached to its very essence.
For a time, he could maybe believe that one day he could be the one to enter and return from that sea, but now…
Sprp!
Having been given the hourglass from Eleanor, he spun it once, causing the blood within to clot into a ball of liquid light, a sudden rumble going through the Ghostship.
Mr. Crab's tiny form behind him vanished in a flash, the entire vessel flashing into its activated, rune-filled state.
Turquoise light consumed both teenagers' vision, a pressure incomparable to any other searing through Aaron's chest.
High-level sea terrors that lurked in the deepest ravines of the Abyss stirred, the feeling of a powerful lifeform above their waters forcing them into a frenzy.
In the innermost chambers of the Ghostship, the core that hummed with energy and burst with tendrils of turquoise light allowed itself to morph into something—unnatural.
But before anything else, Aaron and Eleanor stared mouths agape into the waves ahead of the vessel.
To say that space was folding would be a vast simplification of the scene they witnessed, the very essence of physics breaking at once.
Resembling that of an aurora, fragmented shards of turquoise and white light mixed together to form a mirror image of the water below.
The sea foam began to steam, then boil, and finally float upward towards each of those mystical pockets of brilliance.
As they rose higher and higher into the sky, the wooden planks of the Ghostship began to shift, the runic patterns composed of thousands of miniature seals shining with an unmatched hue.
BWOOOOOOONNNNNGGGGG!
Absolute and unwavering might echoed through the empty night sky as far as the eye could see, a primal fear soon awakened in the hearts of the lurking terrors.
The fog of the Abyss seemed to churn unusually, as if something was pulling it back to gaze upon the sight.
This was a scene like no other, an almost certainly otherworldly phenomenon that was a unique characteristic of a Ghostship.
Even with that hourglass, the runes that covered the deck were proof that it wasn't alone in the creation of the rift.
Aaron could hardly breathe, his head aching slightly yet overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of the portal to another world.
Tilting his eyes slightly to the right, he noticed Eleanor staring with utter awe, the light reflecting in her eyes like fireworks, and her skin as radiant as the sea.
There was a word he could use to describe her, but the groaning of the ship below halted his mouth, stopping him short.
Lurching forward without waiting for a command, the vessel moved at top speed towards the newly created rift.
As the bow of the medium-sized ship passed through the interdimensional gateway, a horrific, almost primal pain shot through his core.
To him, it was nothing but the backlash of the mana.
Yet, to the tiny, turquoise creature whose smaller versions were spread throughout the vessel, it was the first time in hundreds of years that it had escaped its world.