Night pressed heavily against the sea.

  The polar wind forced its way into the cabin, making the thick wooden boards creak and groan as if they might tear apart at any moment. Firelight flickered in the corner, throwing uneven shadows across the cramped space.

  Nils curled up against the burlap-lined wall, soaked to the bone, teeth chattering uncontrollably. He was the only survivor pulled from the wreckage drifting on the sea. His eyes were bloodshot with terror, as if the nightmare of the open water still clung to him.

  Erica crouched in front of him and handed him a piece of dry cloth, her voice gentle.

  “Drink some warm water. Slowly. No one here is going to hurt you.”

  Nils took the flask, but his hands shook so badly that half the water spilled across his chest. He coughed, his voice hoarse and thick with a Nordic accent.

  “You… shouldn’t have come to this sea.”

  Jabari leaned against the cabin door, arms crossed, posture rigid. His short blade rested across his knees, blue flame flickering faintly along its edge. The tall warrior never trusted strangers—especially not in waters already swallowed by shadow.

  Lucas adjusted his glasses, faint runes glimmering across the lenses. He sat at the narrow table, calmly watching Nils while idly turning a brass compass etched with symbols in his hand, as if weighing words against unseen currents.

  Nils’s voice dropped.

  “Three days ago… our fleet ran into a storm. In the snow and wind… something tore open.”

  He paused, eyes hollow, staring into a place far beyond the cabin.

  “Not ice. Not the sea. The sky and the ocean split at the same time. A black seam—like a mouth opening. One ship after another was swallowed.”

  Erica’s chest tightened. Her jade pendant warmed briefly, a flash of green light fading as quickly as it came.

  “You saw it yourself?” she asked softly.

  Nils nodded, breath hitching, fingers digging into the burlap.

  “I saw them scream. I saw them struggle… then get drained hollow by the dark. Even the waves were pulled in, shattered into fragments. Only me—thrown clear on wreckage, far away.”

  Silence filled the cabin, broken only by the slow drip of seawater.

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  Jabari’s face hardened in the firelight.

  “The shadow rift has already spread into these waters.”

  Lucas didn’t look away from Nils.

  “You survived for a reason,” he said quietly. “You’re carrying something.”

  Nils flinched violently, color draining from his face.

  Erica immediately took his wrist. His pulse was chaotic, his breath uneven. Frowning, she pulled out a talisman and bit her fingertip, tracing quickly across the paper.

  “Purifying Talisman,” she murmured.

  The paper flared with green light as she pressed it to Nils’s chest.

  The moment the light spread, Nils arched back and screamed.

  Black veins surfaced across his chest, writhing like serpents, racing toward his throat.

  Erica’s expression changed instantly.

  “Shadow contamination—”

  Green light and black veins collided violently. Erica felt her qi surge backward, numbness flooding her arm, her chest lurching as blood nearly rose to her throat.

  She forced herself to hold on, cold sweat pouring down her face.

  “No… it’s counterattacking…”

  Lucas was on his feet in an instant. The compass in his hand spun rapidly, sigils flaring as he compressed part of the black miasma.

  “Stop!” he snapped. “It’ll drain you dry!”

  Jabari lunged forward, one hand slamming down on Nils’s shoulder as he drew his blade with the other. Blue flame surged, pressing close to the blackened veins.

  Under the heat, the corruption recoiled, forced back into Nils’s chest. He coughed up blood and collapsed, barely conscious.

  Erica’s arm was completely numb. Jabari caught her before she fell, frowning deeply.

  “You almost took yourself with him.”

  She managed a faint smile.

  “If it saves him… then it’s worth it.”

  But she knew the truth. She’d nearly been overwhelmed. Her qi was still in turmoil, her arm deadened entirely. For the first time, she felt it clearly—talismans weren’t omnipotent, and her cultivation was nowhere near enough.

  Nils lay weak, but his eyes were painfully clear. He grabbed Erica’s hand, voice shaking with desperation.

  “Please… if I lose control. If I become one of those things… kill me yourself.”

  His voice trembled, but his resolve did not.

  The cabin fell silent. Firelight stretched their shadows long and distorted. No one answered immediately.

  The ship rocked in the darkness. Nils retreated into the corner, fingers repeatedly rubbing a battered wooden token.

  Erica finally asked, “Why did you dare guide us through this route?”

  Nils was quiet for a long time.

  “Because it took my family,” he said hoarsely. “My wife. My little daughter. That night, the rift opened in the harbor. They were pulled straight in.”

  He held up the token.

  “This is all that’s left. My daughter was holding it.”

  He passed it to Lucas. Carved into the wood was a set of simple symbols.

  “If one day I’m gone… give this to the Nordic guardians. It’s an old pass-sign. It can buy protection—once.”

  The wind rattled the cabin door violently. No one spoke.

  Only the light in Nils’s eyes remained—colder than the wind.

  Outside, waves battered the hull, echoing the weight of his request.

  Erica’s eyes burned.

  “You’ll recover,” she said quietly.

  Nils shook his head.

  “I’ve seen too many people turn into monsters. No one comes back. If it happens… don’t hesitate.”

  His voice broke, fading into shallow, uneven breathing.

  The firelight flickered, stretching their shadows into something grotesque and long.

  Later that night, Nils jolted awake from a nightmare, grabbing Lucas’s wrist blindly.

  For a split second, the terror in his eyes froze—recognition flashing through it.

  He stared at the faint imprint of a talisman on Lucas’s wrist and whispered,

  “I’ve seen that light… in old Nordic ruins.”

  Lucas pulled his sleeve down instantly.

  “You’re mistaken,” he said softly.

  But the runes reflected in his glasses flared wildly—arguing in silence.