"Hmm?" He lifts his head and glances at Cecilia and the others. "I'm just counting my fingers if they're all still there." He then gave a confident grin, prompting the rest to laugh out loud.
While Chief Bustamante and the rest were laughing, amused by Chris's antics, however, not everyone was joining in the laughs, particularly Chief Murillo. "You…you big buffoon! Why would you even consider going through such a thing? You almost gave me a heart attack! I ought to…"
"It worked, didn't it?" Chris calmly said as he sat up straight with a ridiculous grin on his face.
"I…?!" Chief Murillo was stunned by Chris's words. The chief hugged the captain, someone she had looked after for one hundred fifty years. "Don't you ever do that again, okay? You have us to help you; let us do the dirty work, you big idiot."
The rest sat beside the captain and began to cheer him on. They all expressed their gratitude to Chris for saving their lives.
Cecilia observed them, and she watched their interaction. "I think I see why they respect him, despite his coldness and rudeness. Where did the pragmatic Captain go? And who is this charismatic person?"
"Aren't you going to say thank you to the one who saved your life?" Chris asked while peering his head around the people sitting beside him.
Cecilia frowned. "And there he is, the rude and cold captain." She thought to herself. But she didn't know why; there was no reason, she thought, yet a smile formed on her lips. She walked towards Chris and gave them a little bow. "Thank you…you saved me yet again…Captain Chris"
Chris grinned, then he chuckled lightly, shaking his head as he did so. He stood up, picked up his coat, and turned around to leave the room. At the threshold, he stopped and glanced back at the human. "Thank you," he said and immediately left, leaving everyone baffled, since they had never witnessed the captain show gratitude before.
"Did the captain just say 'thank you'?" Cecilia's voice was filled with shock, caught off guard by what the captain said.
"I believe he did." The chief officer turned to the human, "Unless I was hearing things."
Martinez shook his head. "No, you heard right…unless we both are hallucinating"
Chief Murillo, however, was more surprised by the other's reaction than by the captain saying thank you. "What's so shocking about someone saying 'thank you'?" She walked in front of the others and faced them. "We are still in the middle of our voyage, let's all go back to our stations and make sure the trip runs smoothly for the passengers' sake."
Murillo then waltzed towards the exit, but before she went out of the room, she stopped and looked back, and saw the bewildered faces of her contemporaries. "Well? Are the three of you just standing there with your mouths open wide?"
One by one, the three did as Chief Murillo suggested. When Cecilia stepped out of the medical bay, she saw Chris from a distance walking somewhere. She watched his visage from behind, how his perfectly straight body exuded confidence and authority, even by just walking. She noticed that the souls parted, giving way for the captain; they bowed to him as he walked passed, a sign of gratitude for saving their existence.
Cecilia marveled from afar, no longer wondering why such a rude person could garner such reverence from the dead. Yet here it was; she was witnessing it. "Not even taking the time to acknowledge their praises." She smirked before turning around and going to her station.
Chris moved through the crowded corridors like a shadow, ignoring the laughter and light around him as if it were a distant echo. His jaw clenched tight, every step heavy with a silent battle raging beneath his skin. Suddenly, a jagged stab of pain exploded in his chest, sharp and unforgiving. He staggered but refused to falter, weaving desperately through the throng with a frantic urgency that bordered on panic. His destination was clear—his cabin, his only refuge.
Once inside, he slammed the door shut and locked it with trembling hands. Gasping, Chris raised his hands at eye level and noted that they were trembling, flickering, as if they wanted to disappear and vanish. Chris dropped to his knees, and his form also started to flicker, his hands clawing at the floor. He clenched his teeth from the pain that coursed through his body. He fell on his back. Once his form stabilized, panting and visibly out of breath, he managed to get to his feet, and even as dread clawed at his mind, defiance blazed in his eyes.
"A little over a year...I only have a little over a year left, the ship is reminding me I am about to be judged," he breathed, voice low but fierce. He knew the abyss was spreading, a creeping doom that would soon devour him piece by piece. Time was slipping away, and so were his abilities. The battle was between him and oblivion. It was just a question of which would emerge victorious, him or the hunger of the Twilight.