After hearing those stories about monsters lurking in the ocean, a cold shadow settled in William's chest. The festive mood had evaporated, replaced by a subtle, creeping tension. He looked at the captain, serious.
—Captain… with the schedule change… doesn't that raise our chances of running into those things? Aren't there too few of us for a mission like this?
Silence reigned for a second... then a burst of laughter shook the deck.
—HAHAHAHAHA!
The sailors roared with laughter like he'd just told the best joke in the world. Some doubled over, others dropped to the floor, slapping the wooden planks.
—Oh gods, I can't take it! —groaned one, wiping a tear from his eye—. The kid's a comedian!
—A philosopher scared of sailors' tales! —another one shouted.
Captain Thenerev chuckled and clapped William on the back.
—Kid, you clearly don't understand what it means to have real mages onboard. Last time we got attacked, we were escorting a bunch of arrogant nobles who only paid for a level 2 mage, twenty level 1s, and a bunch of apprentices. And our crew? All knights. The outcome was obvious. But this time...
He stood up straighter, his tone turning serious.
—This mission is backed by the Union of Academies. They sent four level 2 mages. You know what that means?
William shook his head, wide-eyed.
—It means if the Kraken dares to come close, it might not survive —he said, calm and confident—. Those beasts, for all their strength, aren't stupid. They can feel mana. And they avoid it. If they sense these mages, they'll stay away. As long as we don't set foot in the Leviathan's territory, we'll be fine.
His voice held the weight of someone who had stared into the abyss and returned to tell the tale.
William swallowed hard. The weight in his chest lifted slightly—but not entirely. He nodded in thanks and headed back to his cabin.
Back inside, he tried to keep reading, but the words blurred with his thoughts. He closed the book and lay down, eyes shut… but an itch, a whisper deep in his soul, pulled at him.
Something was calling.
A subtle pressure, almost like a magnetic force.
He got up. The ship was quiet. He climbed to the deck and was greeted by a night sky filled with stars, mirrored in the calm ocean below. The breeze was soft, but something about it felt... wrong.
He walked to the prow of the ship. The ocean stretched out before him, a massive, endless sea of black. Standing there, arms folded over his chest, William felt something strange:
The world… stopped.
First, the sound of the waves. Then, the creaking wood. Even the beat of his heart.
Everything froze.
A dense fog began to creep from the water, slithering like cold fingers across the deck. Within seconds, visibility dropped to zero. William reached out… but couldn't see his own hand.
—W-what the hell…?
The pressure on his chest grew stronger. Breathing became hard. It felt like something massive was watching him.
And then he realized.
He wasn't alone.
His body trembled. That feeling… he'd felt it before. Back with Professor Aurus.
—Is this… another trance?
The familiarity brought a sliver of calm.
But that calm shattered when the fog split like broken glass.
Descending from the sky was an enormous gate—as tall as a mountain and as wide as the horizon. Its surface looked carved from obsidian, covered in shifting, living symbols.
And in front of it… floated a mask.
William froze.
It resembled a human face, but grotesque and warped. Deep cuts along the corners of the mouth twisted it into a sinister grin. Beneath the eyes, two long slits mimicked dried tears. Metal screws lined the edges, like it was made to be drilled into flesh.
It had no eyes.
Only dark, empty sockets.
But William felt it watching him. Seeing straight through him.
And then, without moving its lips, the mask spoke.
—Welcome. I've been waiting.
—W-who…?
—Last time, there wasn't enough mana to establish a full connection. I only marked you. And waited. But now… we're ready.
The world contracted.
The silence was so deep, even his thoughts echoed.
—Who are you? What do you want from me? How did I get here? Somebody help me!
His questions turned to begging.
—Angel! —he cried out—. Angel, please answer!
No reply.
The mask slowly descended.
—I am… you.
Then it lunged for his face.
William couldn't move.
The mask slammed into him like a curse. The screws began to spin, tearing through skin, crushing bone, boring into his skull. He felt it—his brain being pierced.
He screamed, but his mouth wouldn't open.
His eyes burst with blood. His soul cracked. There were no words for the agony. It was raw, savage, eternal. Like time had stopped just to stretch the torture.
The mask, now fused to his face, twisted into a manic grin.
Then… silence.
It was over.
William collapsed. Panting. Blood still dripped from his cheeks—but the mask was gone.
He touched his face.
Nothing.
Like it had never happened.
But the pain… was real.
He dropped to his knees, sobbing. He cried harder than he ever had—across both his lives. Not even death had brought him such despair.
He felt… hollow. Powerless. Human.
When he finally stood, he saw the gate was still there—massive and unmoving. It looked like nothing could ever break it down.
He walked toward it, slow and unsure.
—This gate… is it meant to keep something out? Or to keep something in?
He didn't touch it.
But the gate groaned.
The sound was ancient. Like the world itself was cracking.
The sky twisted. The sea trembled.
And the gate… opened.
A wave of white fog exploded forward like a silent scream.
Everything vanished.
—Angel…! —William shouted as the void swallowed him—. Angel, answer me!!
But no one came.
No one answered.
He was completely… alone.