The third day.
Evening.
The Poseidon was hours away from its first port stop.
And just before nightfall—
A message arrived.
Encrypted.
Chen Lin decoded it.
His eyes sharpened instantly.
"Levi Wynn…"
"Booked a private viewing tonight."
"Midnight."
Location:
Starlight Observation Deck.
"Guest list—extremely limited."
"Pandora representatives included."
He paused.
Then—
"P-07 will be transferred there."
Silence.
Then—
Chen Lin's voice dropped.
"Opportunity."
His gaze turned sharp.
"That place—isolated, elevated, controlled."
"Perfect for observation."
"And intervention."
He looked at Silas.
"We need to know what P-07 is."
"And how the exchange works."
Silas Moore didn't respond immediately.
His eyes—
Locked onto the blueprint.
The Starlight Deck.
Glass dome.
Half-open structure.
Above the bridge.
Access:
Private elevatorRestricted stairwell
Perimeter:
Narrow maintenance corridorsPipe networks
A plan—
Formed instantly.
Silas lifted his paw.
Tapped the outer maintenance passage.
Then—
Tapped Lingbi.
Then—
Turned to Ironfang.
And Flash.
The two dogs straightened immediately.
Energy rising.
Chen Lin narrowed his eyes.
"You want Lingbi to infiltrate."
"Close-range recon."
"Ironfang and Flash provide external disruption."
"Cover entry or extraction."
Silas nodded once.
Old Wu frowned.
"High risk."
"Security will be tight."
"One mistake—"
"We're exposed."
Silas didn't argue.
Didn't hesitate.
He lifted his paw.
Drew a small checkmark in the air.
Decision made.
Because he had already smelled it.
On Levi Wynn.
On Pandora.
Something growing stronger.
Urgency.
Greed.
And beneath it—
Something darker.
Blood.
P-07—
Was not just an object.
Midnight
The ocean turned black.
Endless.
Silent.
Only the Poseidon—
A floating island of light.
Above—
Stars.
Below—
Darkness.
The Starlight Deck glowed faintly.
Glass dome reflecting the night sky.
Below it—
In the shadows.
Silas crouched.
Beside him:
IronfangFlash
Lin Wan stayed back.
Watching.
Breathing steady.
Lingbi—
Had already moved.
Through vents.
Through ducts.
A ghost in steel.
Silas's collar flickered.
A micro-display projected.
Live feed.
Grainy.
Narrow space.
Dust.
Pipes.
Metal walls.
His ears stood straight.
Fully focused.
Through bone-conduction sensors—
He heard:
AirflowStructural vibrationFaint voices
Lingbi was close.
Very close.
Inside the Observation Deck
Lights dimmed.
Atmosphere controlled.
At the center—
A table.
Black velvet.
Around it—
Five people.
Levi Wynn.
Three Pandora representatives.
And—
The captain.
The same man.
From the corridor.
On the table—
A container.
Silver.
Compact.
About the size of a briefcase.
Surface:
Electronic locksBiometric scannerSealed casing
One of the researchers spoke.
Flat.
Emotionless.
"P-07. Final activity check."
A tablet flickered.
Data streamed.
"Activity stable."
"Within expected parameters."
Another voice:
"Transfer ready."
Levi Wynn smiled.
Raised his glass.
"Captain."
"Thank you for your cooperation."
His tone—
Warm.
Too warm.
"The remaining payment…"
"Will be transferred once the cargo leaves the ship safely."
The captain nodded.
But his face—
Was stiff.
His eyes—
Couldn't help drifting—
Toward the container.
Fear.
Barely hidden.
Outside – Maintenance Hatch
Lingbi reached the inspection slit.
Careful.
Silent.
He adjusted position.
Pressed closer.
Camera angle shifted.
Inside—
Everything became visible.
The table.
The people.
And—
The container.
The feed transmitted instantly.
Silas watched.
And then—
His pupils—
Contracted sharply.
Something inside that container—
Moved.
Just once.
But unmistakable.
Silas froze.
Every instinct—
Screamed.
Danger.
Not an object.
Not a sample.
Alive.
And whatever P-07 was—
It should not exist.