Gordon! Hey, get up, brother, we'll all die if we don't leave!"
The man who had been lying motionless forced his eyes open, not because of the shouting alone, but because of the relentless chaos flooding his senses. Cannon fire thundered in his ears. The screams of dying men mixed with the sharp crack of muskets and the violent concussions of naval artillery, shaking both body and mind.
"Gordon?"
Cassian, who had just regained consciousness, saw a stranger leaning over him. The man was wrapped in a hood soaked with blood, crimson streaks running down his forehead and into his eyes. His face was filled with anxiety as he desperately tried to pull him up from the deck.
"Thank God, you finally woke up. Listen to me, this ship can't hold anymore. We have to escape, right now…"
Boom!!
A deafening roar erupted as a solid iron cannonball tore straight through the deck. Splintered planks exploded outward, the hull groaning like a dying beast. The violent impact completely shattered the remaining haze in Cassian's mind.
Only then did he truly see the slaughter before him.
Cold steel pierced bodies without mercy. Blood sprayed across the deck, staining sails and rigging alike. The attackers' faces were twisted with excitement, eyes burning with the madness of battle. Cutlasses rose and fell, and every swing claimed another life.
Instinct overwhelmed thought.
Danger screamed through every nerve. Adrenaline flooded his veins, his heartbeat pounding in his ears until the world itself seemed to pulse. His mind collapsed into a single, desperate command.
Escape. Escape at all costs.
The man beside him supported his weight, dragging him forward as the two staggered toward the lower cabin. The deck had already fallen to the enemy, but below, among the gun ports and cramped passages, there was still a slim chance of survival.
When they reached the cannon deck, a massive hole had been blown into the hull. Through the gaping breach, Cassian saw another ship running parallel to theirs. A black flag bearing a white skull snapped violently in the wind. Smoke poured from its gun ports, the sharp stench of black powder lingering in the air.
Ropes flew across the gap.
Countless figures armed with cutlasses and pistols swung over, landing on the deck like beasts unleashed, immediately launching into brutal close-quarters slaughter.
"This… where is this?"
"Hahaha! Look what I found! Two little cowards! Hope you enjoy yourselves!"
A pale, blood-smeared face suddenly appeared at the edge of the broken hull. The man's grin was grotesque, eyes wide with insanity. Laughing wildly, he struck flint to fuse and tossed a lit bomb straight toward them.
"Move!"
The man beside Cassian kicked him hard in the back, then leapt away without hesitation.
Fire and shockwaves burst from the breach. The violent explosion hurled both of them into the air. Cassian felt searing heat scorch his back as wooden fragments tore into his flesh like knives.
The sea swallowed him whole.
Cold, crushing water enveloped his body, isolating him from sound and light. Above him, flames danced across shattered timbers, burning debris sinking slowly toward the depths. The scene felt distant, unreal, as if he were watching someone else's death.
The ship was completely destroyed.
Wreckage descended into the dark waters, dragging him along with it. His body went limp, strength fading rapidly. His lungs burned, screaming for air that never came. Consciousness slipped away, dissolving into nothingness.
…
"Cough… cough!"
When he awoke again, it was the cool sea breeze brushing across his face that dragged him back from death. The sensation forced air into his lungs, igniting painful spasms as seawater was violently expelled from his chest.
Cassian coughed uncontrollably, water pouring from his mouth as oxygen rushed back in. His heart hammered desperately, reclaiming its rhythm.
The world spun.
He tried to rise but failed. Every muscle trembled uselessly, robbed of strength by suffocation and exhaustion. He could only lie there, staring blankly, thoughts scattered and memories fragmented.
Time passed unnoticed.
The sun sank toward the horizon. The tide slowly receded. The once-gentle sea breeze turned cold, and hunger gnawed mercilessly at his body.
He forced himself up again.
He was on a beach.
Broken planks and shattered beams lay scattered along the shore, carried in by the waves. A coconut grove stood in the distance. Crabs scuttled among the rocks near the waterline.
Ignoring the pain covering his body, Cassian stomped down on a crab, crushed it against a stone, and tore at its legs with his teeth. The act felt disturbingly natural, even though he had no memory of ever doing something like this before.
But the meat was pitifully scarce.
It only worsened his hunger.
Though the beach teemed with crabs, eating them raw would only hasten death. Infection, parasites, disease—any one of them would finish him off in his current state.
So he turned his gaze to the coconut trees.
Gathering all his remaining strength, he kicked one viciously. The tree shook twice in protest, then stood unmoved.
"If I survive this, I'll cut you down."
Alone on the deserted island, with no one to speak to, his mind began to fray, and he found himself talking to a tree.
He picked up stones and climbed onto a higher rock, hurling them upward again and again. His aim was terrible. His hands swelled painfully. Not a single coconut fell.
At last, he collapsed onto the stone.
Hunger was terrible, but thirst was worse.
The island was small, barely a kilometer across. There were no freshwater streams. His only hope lay in the coconuts above him. Twice already, he had brushed against death. This would be the third.
"Why are you doing this to me? Haven't I lived honestly? Haven't I done good?"
His thoughts were chaotic. He could not remember where he came from, or why he was here, or whether he had ever lived a virtuous life at all.
Thud!!
A coconut struck the ground and began rolling downhill toward the beach.
"No! Don't do this! That's my only hope!"
He leapt up and chased it with everything he had left.
The coconut rolled faster, aided by the slope. Sand finally slowed it, and he caught it just before it reached the water, clutching it like treasure.
Using a sharpened stick, he pierced the shell. Sweet coconut water spilled out, every drop swallowed greedily, not a single drop wasted.
He smashed the shell open and devoured the flesh inside.
Only then did Cassian truly feel alive.
Lying atop the rock, waiting for more coconuts to fall, his mind slowly cleared.
Memories returned.
His name was Gordon.
He lived in Havana. He was an honest young man who had gone to sea with his friend Duncan, serving as a sailor aboard a merchant vessel running the trade route between Liverpool and the Caribbean colonies.
Their ship had been sailing toward Huaye Island when it was attacked.
And that was where everything began.