Chapter 1082: Premonitions of Better Times.
The sea was never still, not even in the dead of night. Waves slapped against the hull with the rhythm of a slow drumbeat, constant, eternal. Cain stood at the bow of the vessel, cloak whipping in the salted wind, eyes fixed on the jagged horizon. The water carried whispers—too faint for most to hear, but to him, they were as clear as the cries of a wounded soldier.
Susan sat on a crate behind him, cigarette smoke curling into the misty air. She had managed to patch her ribs with makeshift bandages, though every drag of breath was a struggle. Still, her voice cut through the wind, raspy but sharp. "You think the sea hides us?"
Cain didn’t turn. "The sea doesn’t hide anyone. It swallows them."
She gave a bitter laugh, coughing through the smoke. "That’s comforting."
Steve’s voice broke in over the comm, static-ridden but steady. "Satellite scans put the fleet three clicks east of your position. They’re not subtle. Big engines, heavy guns. Whoever’s pulling the strings wants everyone to see the show."
Cain’s hand brushed the hilt of his blade. He hadn’t drawn it yet, but the weight was constant, a reminder of what waited just beyond the black horizon. His silence stretched long enough for Susan to flick her ash into the sea.
"They’re not just flexing," Cain said finally. "They’re daring us to stop them."
Susan leaned back, head tilted toward the sky, eyes half-closed. "And you’re going to take the dare."
The answer was obvious. Cain’s entire posture screamed inevitability. "We don’t have the luxury of turning away. If we leave them unchecked, the city burns. And the sea won’t just swallow the bodies. It’ll swallow the truth."
Steve crackled again. "You’re closing in. Infrared shows movement on deck—patrols, heavy armor. Cain, this isn’t a raid. It’s a fortress that floats."
Cain’s lips curled into something between disdain and anticipation. "Fortresses fall."
The vessel rocked harder as the current shifted. The sea itself seemed to grow restless, waves climbing higher, salt spray lashing across Cain’s face. He closed his eyes briefly, listening. Beneath the waves, he could feel it—the pulse, deep and ancient, as though the water carried memories of every war ever fought across its surface.
Susan rose unsteadily, gripping the rail for balance. "You’re hearing it again, aren’t you? The city’s voice. The sea’s voice. Whatever the hell it is that keeps you up at night."
Cain didn’t answer right away. His silence was an answer in itself.
The fleet came into view, black silhouettes against the faint smear of dawn. Massive steel bodies, bristling with cannons, towers, and radar dishes like jagged spines. The largest ship led the formation, its prow carved into the shape of an open maw, lights glaring like predatory eyes.
Susan’s breath hitched. "They built monsters out of metal."
"Monsters," Cain said, "are honest. Men are worse."
The comm hissed with Steve’s urgency. "Cain, you’ve got less than ten minutes before they lock their scopes on you. Once they do, you’re nothing but a shadow in their crosshairs."
Cain stepped forward, every movement deliberate, unhurried. "Let them aim."
Susan dragged hard on her cigarette, the ember burning bright in the dawn haze. "And what’s the plan? Because if you’re thinking of charging an entire fleet with a sword, I’d like to know before I waste my last smoke."
Cain’s gaze swept across the water, the warships, the endless sky above. His voice came low, calm, unyielding. "We break their silence. We drag their secrets into the light. And if they won’t yield..." His hand closed around the hilt of his blade. "We make the sea their grave."
The vessel surged forward as if obeying him, cutting through waves with renewed speed. Engines roared in the distance, the sound of giants stirring. The air itself seemed to thicken with anticipation, charged with the promise of fire and steel.
Susan flicked her cigarette into the waves. The ember hissed out, swallowed instantly. She leaned against the rail, eyes hard despite the pain etched into her face. "Then let’s not keep the monsters waiting."
The first spotlight cut across the water, a blinding beam that locked onto their vessel. Sirens wailed from the fleet, mechanical and merciless. The sea no longer whispered; it howled.
Cain drew his blade. The sound was sharp, final. The reflection of steel caught the first rays of dawn, gleaming like a shard of the rising sun. His voice carried across the deck, steady and cold.
"Their war begins now. So does ours."
The fleet answered with fire.
The first barrage tore the sea apart. Shells screamed overhead, crashing into the waves with explosions that lit the night like fractured lightning. The vessel lurched violently, water cascading over the deck as Cain braced himself against the railing. Spray stung his eyes, salt mixing with smoke, but he didn’t flinch.
Susan hit the floor, arms shielding her head as fragments of shrapnel whined past. "This isn’t a fight—it’s suicide!" she shouted, her voice barely cutting through the thunder of artillery.
Cain’s response was calm, almost too calm. "Then we die with purpose."
Another blast erupted off the starboard side, rocking the ship so hard the mast groaned under the strain. Susan crawled to her feet, coughing, gripping the rail. Her cigarette taste still clung to her lips, bitter and grounding. "You can’t fight cannons with steel, Cain. Even you know that."
Cain didn’t look at her. His gaze locked on the fleet ahead, movements deliberate as he raised his blade to the sky. The steel glinted, and for a moment the sea seemed to answer—the tide heaved, the waves swelling unnaturally high.
Steve’s voice cracked through the comm, panicked. "What the hell is happening? I’m reading anomalies in the water—tidal shifts, impossible readings. Cain, what are you doing?"
Cain spoke softly, but the wind carried every word. "I’m not fighting them alone. The sea remembers. And tonight, it fights with me."
The waves surged higher, towering walls of water gathering behind their vessel. The fleet’s spotlights flickered, beams slicing through mist that thickened with unnatural speed. Engines roared louder as the warships adjusted formation, guns swiveling frantically to compensate.
Susan gripped the rail harder, eyes wide. For once, she didn’t have a retort. The sea had chosen a side.
And it wasn’t theirs.