A sharp gust howled across the sea like a scream, and the yacht lurched violently. Waves rose from the flat sea in all directions, slamming onto the yacht. Water and salt sprayed over the deck. Equipment skidded and shattered.
Lucien stumbled, fell hard against the side rail, pain blooming across his ribs.
The boat pitched again causing shattered equipment to fly at him. He ducked instinctively using his hands to shield himself from the shrapnel. Another wave crashed over him, causing him to fall to the ground using his bloody hands to catch himself and he tasted salt and metal.
Another wave smashed unto him again and the pendant was nearly torn from his neck.
He reached for it reflexively, fingers closing around its cool surface to keep it safe from been washed away.
Pain shot up his arm.
He looked down.
His cut hand was bleeding, smearing across the gem. The stone pulsed again and then absorbed his blood.
Lucien froze.
'What the fuck.' He thought in disbelief as he stared at the stone.
The stone began to glow.
A deep, white light burst from its centre, bright as a flare but without heat. The hum followed, low and wrong, resonating not just through the air but inside his skull, his bones. Every part of him felt it.
He fell on his knees trying to shut the sound out but unfortunately, he could not.
Suddenly the sea went still again but this time completely.
Even the wind died.
Lucien stumbled to his feet. Around him, the world felt suspended... paused mid-frame. The clouds overhead stopped shifting. The crashing waves froze mid-crest
.
Then came the flash.
The stone flared, consuming everything in pure, blinding light.
There was no time to scream.
No time to think.
No time at all.
***
{Two days later}
The coast guard boat slowed as it approached the drifting vessel bobbing gently in the calm summer sea.
Something was off.
"Pacific Mirage, this is Coast Guard 47, do you copy?" The radio operator tried again, frowning when only static hissed back.
Captain Mara Voss adjusted her cap, squinting at the luxury yacht.
No distress signals.
No visible damage. It was just… abandoned.
"Looks clean," her partner, Reyes, muttered. "Too clean."
The crew exchanged uneasy glances. The yacht, though clearly seaworthy, didn't behave like it had a soul aboard.
"Alright," the captain finally said. "We board."
A small boarding team approached in a dinghy and climbed aboard. The moment they stepped onto the deck, something felt off.
Dead silence.
No creaks of metal, no beeping from instruments, not even the faint hum of electronics. Just the sound of waves gently lapping against the boat.
The deck bore strange marks... burns that fanned out like roots or lightning strikes. Some metal fixtures were dented, but not torn or broken. There was no sign of a struggle, no blood, no signs of panic.
Everything, bizarrely, was intact. Even the self defence pistol carried around by rich folks, remained untouched in the harness locked to the chair.
"Engine's fine," one of the officers called from below. "No tampering. Fuel's more than half full."
"And the nav systems?"
"Dead. Completely."
They brought in tech specialists to check the systems. The main electronics had fried... burnt from the inside out. But before the systems failed, the security cameras had managed to record several hours.
The footage was disturbing.
It showed Lucien Ashvale reading calmly, sipping wine, making notes in a journal. Then, around the time of the eclipse, the boat began to shake violently. Instruments fell. Waves crashed over the side. A storm, seemingly, out of nowhere.
"That doesn't make sense… there hasn't been a storm in this area in weeks." Captain Mara Voss said confused.
"I will pull up the records just to confirm." Her partner Reyes said.
The storm wasn't on any meteorological record. No other vessels nearby had experienced even a ripple.
And just before the footage cut to static, the deck was illuminated by a flash of white light. Then the feed died.
No signs of anyone boarding or leaving.
Reyes left and soon reappeared, holding a wallet. "Owner's Lucien Ashvale. Rich kid, according to his ID. Parents are probably freaking out."
Voss exhaled. Missing persons cases were messy, but this? No body. No signs of foul play. Just a storm that shouldn't have existed and a deck scorched by something that left no trace.
They called the Ashvales. The mother's voice cracked over the line: "He wouldn't just leave. Not without telling us. If he is out there, we will know soon enough when he withdraws money from his account."
The line went silent for several long seconds.
Then, a clipped, authoritative voice spoke. "We'll send representatives immediately."
They called divers.
For two days, teams combed the sea floor beneath the yacht's last known position. They found shattered pieces of equipment, a cracked telescope lens, and fragments of a dropped camera but nothing that could explain what happened.
No body.
No signs of marine predators.
Moreover this part of the sea wasn't known for sharks or large aquatic life. In fact, it was considered unusually barren. The most dangerous thing found in that water was jellyfish and none of them capable of swallowing a grown man.
The investigation quickly escalated.
They ruled out piracy. Ruled out mechanical failure. Even ruled out kidnapping.
Who would go through all this effort just to take one man... without a trace... and leave everything else behind?
Back on the yacht, while the crew logged their final notes, one officer paused, crouching near the scorch marks.
Reyes tossed the evidence bag onto the table... the only other thing they'd found under water with the damaged equipment.
A single gold pendant, its chain snapped.
The black stone at its centre was gone.
"Seen anything like this before?" One of the younger officers asked his older colleague.
The man shook his head slowly. "No. And I hope I never do again."
Lucien Ashvale was declared missing.