[Author's Interaction]
Still here, are you?
I admire your persistence.
You weren't fooled, were you? No... I see it now. You sensed the lie. The illusion. The strings beneath the puppets. Noir Grayson's story does not end in silence, not yet.
But be warned, dear reader. From here on, you walk deeper into a tale where light is sparse, and sorrow runs deep. A tale not of glory, but of ghosts, questions without answers, and memories that bleed.
You think you've seen the truth? You haven't even scratched the surface.
You cannot change the outcome.
-.-- --- ..- ...- . / -... . . -. / .-- .- .-. -. . -..
"Wear this. It will keep you safe. Do not lose it..."
"I have to go now. Take care of the farm..."
"You're destined for-"
"May your scheme be forever concealed..."
.... . .-.. .--.
"Wake up, Dawnbringer… your journey hasn't ended. At the edge of the dawn, only one shall live to witness the new world."
.-. . ... . -
"Hey. Wake up."
The voice is distant, like a memory underwater.
"I said wake up!"
Noir's eyes snapped open. He gasped sharply, clutching at his chest, expecting pain, but there was none. Only the sound of waves. Of wind. Of… life.
"Finally!" Valeria's voice broke through the fog. She stood nearby, arms crossed, as if nothing had happened. "We've arrived at our destination, Noir. The adventure isn't going to wait for you."
Noir sat up slowly, eyes darting around. The ship. The sky. The sea. Everything looked… normal. But his heart thudded like a war drum.
"Miss… Valeria?" he whispered, breathless.
She glanced back. "What?"
"I… I thought I was… dead." His voice trembled. He could still feel the phantom pain, the trident tearing through him, blood pooling, his vision fading…
"Dead?" Valeria raised an eyebrow. "Are you okay? Did you hit your head or something?"
He reached for his chest. No wound. No blood.
Celeste landed beside him lightly from the quarterdeck, brow furrowed in concern. "What's going on?"
"Noir's acting strange. He thinks he died. Says something about being impaled."
Celeste blinked, confused. "Impaled? Noir… we didn't encounter anything out there. It was calm sailing the whole way here."
Noir's gaze dropped to the floorboards. "But I remember it. The Undead Drowns. The Grand Drown. I saw its eyes. I felt the trident. And then… darkness. I remember falling."
Celeste placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, her voice low and soothing. "Maybe it was a dream. Or... something else. Whatever it was, you're safe now. We're here, and you're alive."
Valeria scoffed playfully. "We don't have time for ghost stories. If the Tablet of Prophecy is right, there's a mountain of gold inside that cave. Enough to make kings jealous."
"Come on, Noir," Celeste said, rising with a smile. "We've got an adventure to finish."
Valeria had already turned away, calling over her shoulder. "Unless you want to sit there all day with the ghosts in your head, get moving!"
Celeste lingered for a moment, watching him carefully before following Valeria.
Noir stood up slowly. The wind kissed his face. The air smelled of salt and sun.
But something still felt off.
He turned his head toward the open sea, his eyes narrowing. The horizon glimmered like glass… and in that shimmer, for just a second, he saw it again:
A ship sinking in crimson waters.
Two bodies hanging in silence.
A figure cloaked in shadow.
He blinked. The vision was gone.
Was it a dream? A premonition? A memory yet to pass?
He didn't know anymore.
But one thing was certain:
Something had changed.
The world felt thinner now, like the veil between reality and something darker had been lifted.
He was still alive.
But for how long?
.-. . ... . - / - .... . / -.. .- .-- -
[—SOON A NEW DAWN—]