The lightning faded, leaving the sea momentarily illuminated—dozens of distorted shapes writhing beneath the surface before sinking back into darkness. The song faltered, not gone, but disrupted, like a melody forced off-beat.
Noel didn't press the advantage.
He stood still near the center of the deck, Revenant Fang humming softly in his grip, lightning crawling lazily along its edge. His eyes weren't on the creatures retreating into the water—but on the pattern they left behind.
"Hold positions," he called out, voice steady and sharp. "No one advances."
They listened.
That alone marked the shift.
Captain Gustave remained at the helm, hands firm on the wheel, posture unchanged despite the chaos around him. Water slammed against the hull again—but the ship didn't turn, didn't falter. He didn't even glance back.
"Maintain course," the captain said calmly. "The moment we drift, we lose control."
Elyra's magic pulsed across the deck in response.
