In this kind of darkness, the lights on the ship became the only beacons; aside from the sound of the people around him breathing, all that was left in his ears was the howling sea wind and the surging waves.
Lorenzo leaned against the side, hunching himself into a corner, and looked out at the murk beyond the porthole.
After his previous experience on the Silent Sea, this slightly eerie darkness was something Lorenzo had long since grown used to; compared to that voyage, everything now felt far more comfortable.
No Demons, no extreme cold, no reverberating corruption—this was just a somewhat unsettling trip by sea, nothing more.
Withdrawing his gaze from the porthole, he saw that the lights in the cabin were dim, most of the space sunk into gray shadow; the atmosphere was tranquil, with only calm breathing echoing through it.
