The port of Dead Ledger smelled like everything Caelum had forgotten: freshly baked bread, tar, human sweat, and cheap spices.
Walking along the dock felt like a slap back into reality.
People passed by him, busy with their own problems, and for the first time in a year, Caelum didn't feel like a resource on a list… but something worse.
A stranger in a world that hadn't stopped for him.
Nami and Carina walked a few steps ahead, moving with a natural ease he envied. They stopped in front of an alley that led to the back of a marine supply warehouse.
—Listen, Thunder-Beard —Nami said without looking at him—. You go around back and make a scene. I need the guards distracted.
Caelum studied the place.
Guards at the main entrance.
Reinforced windows.
Busy streets.
He shook his head.
—Bad idea —he said calmly—. If I make noise, it won't just be the guards. The whole dock will come down on us.
Nami turned slightly, annoyed.
But Caelum kept going.
—Get me up to that ledge —he pointed at a barred window—. I can open it quietly. You go in. I watch.
A pause.
—Less noise, fewer problems.
Carina tilted her head, smiling.
—Makes sense.
Nami didn't answer right away… but she didn't argue either.
That was enough.
Caelum climbed with controlled effort. His muscles responded better than before, but the fatigue was still there, hidden beneath his skin like an unpaid debt.
Once at the window, he placed his hands on the iron bolts.
Focus.
Not force.
Not excess.
The metal softened slowly, becoming malleable under the invisible heat.
A faint creak.
Caelum froze.
Footsteps.
A guard passed below, muttering to himself.
Silence.
The world narrowed to that single moment.
The guard kept walking.
Caelum exhaled slowly and finished the job.
The window came loose.
Nami and Carina slipped inside like shadows.
From the ledge, Caelum kept watch.
The wind.
Voices.
The flow of people.
Everything was different… but his mind worked the same.
Organizing.
Evaluating.
Preparing.
For a moment, he almost felt in control.
An hour later, they were in a rented room above a tavern.
The loot was modest, but useful: medicine, clothes, coins.
Carina counted the money quickly.
Nami studied a map.
Without ceremony, she tossed a package and a razor toward Caelum.
—It worked —she said, without looking at him.
Nothing more.
But enough.
Caelum moved to a basin.
He heated the water just enough.
Steam rose slowly.
He looked at his reflection.
For a moment, he hesitated.
That face…
Wasn't the one from the island.
But it wasn't the one from the office either.
Still, he started shaving.
Each stroke erased months of neglect.
The beard fell.
The salt was gone.
The image changed.
When he finished, he stared a few seconds longer.
He didn't smile.
He just accepted it.
He put on the new clothes.
Linen shirt.
Dark trousers.
Lighter.
More… functional.
—Look at that —Carina said from the bed—. Turns out you were human after all.
Caelum adjusted his belt without answering.
He packed his tools.
Then he spoke.
—The raft stays —he said—. It's useless for what comes next.
Nami looked up.
—And what exactly comes next?
Caelum met her gaze.
This time, without hesitation.
—A real ship.
A pause.
—And better decisions.
Nami watched him in silence.
Measuring.
Evaluating.
—We're not friends —she said at last.
—Perfect —Caelum replied.
He sat across from her, looking at the map.
—The best arrangements are the ones that benefit everyone involved.
The air in the room shifted.
It wasn't trust.
It was something more useful.
Balance.
For the first time since arriving in this world…
Caelum wasn't surviving.
He was participating.