[Sembergo Ocean]
There was nothing in this endless ocean except for my heavy breaths, the sounds of water, and the sudden splash of large fishes breaking the surface.
I'm lying on the ship deck.
Staring at the sky. For no reason.
It's blue now. Like something normal and peaceful. Like it didn't watch hundreds of men die twelve days ago.
Has it only been twelve days?
It feels like years. Feels like minutes. Time doesn't work right when you've watched everything fall apart.
I turned my head. Slowly. Everything still hurts.
The deck stretches around me—massive, empty, wrong. This ship—no, I can't even call it a ship anymore. It's too large. A vessel. A floating coffin. Carrying nothing but ghosts and memories.
"I had to throw more than four hundred of my kids into the water."
The words come out before I can stop them. Talking to no one. Talking to the sky. Talking to the fishes that circle below, waiting for more.
"Because they started to decompose."
I sigh.
Deep. Something heavy. The kind that comes from somewhere you didn't know existed.
Four hundred.
Four hundred bodies.
Four hundred families who'll never see their sons again.
Four hundred mothers who'll wait by windows that will never open.
Four hundred fathers who'll pretend they're not crying.
Four hundred stories that end here, in this endless fucking ocean.
"There were many of those kids whose bodies I haven't even found... Probably they're in the endless depth of this monster sea."
The monster sea, huh. Clearly it's a monster sea. If this ocean didn't even exist, then the Duman apocalypse shouldn't have even started.
It is where I found one of my favorite kids. Void.
I close my eyes.
The images didn't stop.
James's face. His last words. "Go, Captain... I'm with you..."
The way he looked at me. Trusting me. Believing in me.
And I failed him.
I failed all of them.
We knew we couldn't win.
We knew it was a sacrifice.
We knew—
But knowing doesn't make it easier.
Knowing doesn't bring them back.
Knowing just means you have no excuse.
I opened my eyes.
The sky hasn't changed. Still blue. Still peaceful. Still mocking.
"It's been twelve days since I started this... journey."
I laughed. Bitter. Hollow.
"Twelve days since we sailed toward death like it was a destination."
The ship creaks beneath me. The only sound besides the water and my voice.
"I wonder why electronic devices still aren't working."
I've asked myself this a hundred times. The creature is dead. I saw Void kill it. But the satellites are still dark. The radios still silent. The compass still spinning uselessly.
Maybe the creature did something.
Maybe Void did something.
Maybe I just don't understand any of this.
Probably that last one.
I forced myself to sit up.
It hurt. Everywhere. Ribs broken? Probably. Arm dislocated? Fixed it myself. Head pounding? Constantly.
But I'm alive.
Why?
Why me?
Why not James? Why not any of the others?
Why does the universe keep sparing the people who don't want to be spared?
I look toward the horizon.
Nothing. Just water. Endless water. For over 200 kilometers in every direction.
200 kilometers from where we fought.
200 kilometers from where they died.
200 kilometers from everything.
And I'm still here. Doing nothing but breathing and trying to kill myself with the very thought of their deaths.
Still—
A sound.
Behind me. A sound that didn't seem like it could come from any ocean creature.
It was so soft that it felt like something that shouldn't have existed in the first place.
I froze.
No one was alive.
I checked. I checked everywhere I could.
I—
What am I even thinking?
"You like to stay here, Big guy?"
A voice. Female. Calm. A voice I don't think I've heard anywhere before.
I turned slowly. Every muscle screaming.
And there was—
A girl.
Blonde hair. Red eyes. Wearing a white turtleneck. Standing on my deck like she'd been there the whole time.
She wasn't there a second ago.
I know she wasn't.
"How—"
"Uhm? What do you mean by how? I just walked."
"Walked?"
"Yes." She tilted her head. That small gesture. Curious. Unafraid. "On the water. It's not difficult, I guess."
On the water.
She said it's not difficult.
Who—
"Who—" I whispered. "—are you?"
Her eyes flickered. Just slightly. The first crack in that calm mask.
"I'm Arcueid—" She stopped for a moment. "My name is Arcueid."
"I'm... Namaska."
"Namaska?" She closed her eyes and thought for a moment. "Uhm, your name sounds like a person called Nams."
My heart stopped.
"You know about him?"
"Who? Nams? Yes. I know."
She looked at the sky. I should ask her how. I should ask her why. But something in her posture—something in the way she said his name—made me hold back.
"Are you his friend, miss?"
"Friends?..." She paused. The word seemed foreign to her. "I—I don't actually know."
She finally looked at me, and I saw... something. Her eyes were bright and red, but they reflected an amount of negative energy that was staggering. Ancient. Bottomless.
"You don't know?"
"I don't think I know... Are you his friend?"
I almost laughed. Almost.
"Do I really look that young? I'm his father."
Her eyes widened. Just slightly. The first genuine surprise I'd seen on her face.
"Oh. Oh. Ahh. Anno. Hello to Nams's father."
"Hello to my Nams's female friend."
She didn't correct me.
Didn't confirm either.
Just stood there, looking slightly lost, like she wasn't sure what the protocol was for meeting your friend's father. Or not-friend. Or whatever Nams was to her.
"By the way, what are you doing in this empty ocean?"
"I was on a mission..." I paused. "Well, don't ask me about it."
I sighed.
"By the way, are you somehow from Ilsa?"
She didn't answer instantly. Not like the previous questions. The silence stretched. Grew heavy. She looked at the water. At the sky. At her own hands.
"I'm not..." She hesitated. "I'm from somewhere else. Actually, I kind of forgot where I'm from, hehe."
She laughed. Small. Awkward. The laugh of someone who wasn't used to laughing at all.
Forgot where she's from.
Right.
I should be suspicious. I should be on guard. A strange girl appears on my ship—my floating graveyard—walking on water, knowing my son's name, unable to remember her own origins.
But I'm too tired to be suspicious.
Too broken to be on guard.
And there's something about her. Something familiar. Something that reminds me of Void—that same otherworldly weight, that same sense that you're standing next to something that could erase you without trying. But different. Softer. Sadder.
What a weird girl. But for some reason, I'm starting to like talking to her.
Probably because she's my idiot son's friend.
Or something like that.
She sat down.
Not close. Not far. Just... there. On the edge of the deck, legs dangling over the side, looking at the water like it held answers she'd been searching for.
"You're injured," she said. Not a question.
"I'll live."
"That's what they all say." She glanced at me. "And then they don't."
Something about the way she said it—flat, factual, completely devoid of comfort—made me laugh. A real laugh. The first one in twelve days.
"You sound like my son."
Her head tilted. "Nams?"
"No. My... other one. Void."
She didn't react to the name. Didn't know it, probably. But she nodded slowly, like she understood something I hadn't said.
"You have many children."
"I collected them." The words came out before I could stop them. "Orphans. Strays. Kids who don't have anyone else." I looked at the sky. "Void was one. Nams is one, Scarlett, Shiroyoki, James." My voice caught on the last name. "James was one too."
"Was?"
"He died. Twelve days ago. Right here." I tapped the deck beneath me. "Him and four hundred others."
She was quiet for a long moment.
"I erased someone," she said finally. "Someone Nams cared about. I didn't mean to. It just... happened."
Her voice was so small. So unbelievably small for someone who could walk on water and appear from nowhere.
"I don't know if he forgives me. I don't know if he should."
I looked at her. Really looked. This girl—this creature, whatever she was—was carrying something heavy. Something that had been crushing her for a long time.
"Did you ask him?"
"...What?"
"Did you ask him if he forgives you?"
She blinked. "I...did, but... does he really going to forgive someone pathetic creature? "
"He will... Yeah I guess he will. "
She stared at me. Those red eyes—so bright, so ancient—were suddenly very young. Very lost.
"I want to believe this ."
"You need to." I leaned back, ignoring the protest from my ribs. "Nams is many things. Stubborn. Reckless. Terrible at expressing emotions. But he's not cruel. If you're honest with him, he'll be honest with you."
"You sound very sure."
"I raised him." A pause. "Well. Tried to. I wasn't very good at it."
She didn't argue. Didn't offer empty reassurance. Just sat there, processing.
"Why are you telling me this?"
I thought about it. Why was I telling her? This stranger. This maybe-enemy. This girl who'd appeared on my ship like a ghost.
"Because you look like you needed to hear it."
She didn't respond.
But she didn't leave either.
•••
The sun moved across the sky. The waves kept their rhythm. The fishes kept splashing.
And we sat there. Two broken people on a ship full of ghosts.
"Can I ask you something?" Her voice was quieter now. Almost hesitant.
"You can ask. I might not answer."
"Fair." She paused. "Why did you send Nams away? If you care about him—why send him somewhere you can't follow?"
The question hit harder than I expected. And how does she knows I can't follow him?
"Because I couldn't protect him." The words came out rough. Honest. "Because everywhere I go, people die. Because the world I live in—the world I've been fighting in for twenty years—eats children like him alive."
I looked at my hands. Scarred. Calloused. Hands that had killed more things than I could count. Hands that had held my wife once. Held my children.
"I couldn't let that happen. Not to him. Not again."
"Again?"
"My wife—She disappeared years ago. I couldn't find her. Couldn't save her." The old guilt rose in my chest. Familiar. Heavy. "And my daughter—Sara lost somewhere beyond of this reality."
"My other daughters are ran off somewhere too"
I took a breath.
"Nams was the last one. The only one I could still protect. So I protected him. Even if it meant sending him away. Even if it meant he hates me."
"I don't think he hates you."
I looked at her.
"He doesn't," she said again, firmer this time.
"You're the one who said Nams is bad at expression what going to his heart... If I guess then he's trying to understand you and your feelings "
Trying.
My son was trying to understand me.
Something cracked in my chest.
"He's a good kid," I said. My voice was rough.
"Yes." She nodded. "He is."
The silence that followed was different. Less heavy. Less lonely.
The sun was getting low. The sky turning gold and pink and orange.
"I should go," she said, but didn't move.
"Probably."
"Your ship—it's drifting toward land. If you keep this direction, you'll reach the Aventic coast in about four days."
I stared at her. "How do you know that?"
"I can feel it. The distance. The current. The shape of the land beneath the water." She said it like it was obvious. Like everyone could feel the earth's curvature through their feet.
Right.
Of course she can.
"Thank you," I said.
"For what?"
"For talking to me. For telling me about Nams. For..." I struggled to find the right words. "For being here. I've been alone for twelve days."
She stood up. Smoothed her skirt. Looked at me with those impossible red eyes.
"You're not alone anymore. Not completely."
Then she stepped off the deck.
Onto the water.
And walked away.
I watched her go—a figure in white, blonde hair catching the last light of the sun, walking across the ocean like it was solid ground. Getting smaller. Smaller. Smaller.
Until she was gone.
•••
I sat there for a long time after she left.
Thinking about Nams. About the girl who walked on water. About the way she'd said "He doesn't hate you" like she knew. Like she'd seen something in my son that I'd been too afraid to look for.
"Does he smiles more now?."
If yes, then... good.
That's good.
I looked at the horizon. At the direction she'd pointed. Land. Four days away.
Home.
Or what was left of it.
I'd have to face the families. Write the letters. Explain what happened to four hundred sons and daughters.
But for now—
For now, I had a direction.
And somewhere out there, in a place I couldn't reach, my son was smiling more.
That was enough.
That would have to be enough.
I stood up. Slowly. Painfully. Made my way to the wheel.
Set the course.
And sailed toward home.
Suddenly I felt my body weren't hurting anymore. My legs , hands and other muscles were working like I was in my 30s.
Did she healed me?
---