Sprawled across the deck of the Ghostship lay a blonde-haired boy surrounded by pooling blood.

  Owwwww… My head is killing me…

  Attempting to stand, Aaron felt a burning sensation in his legs and realized they were almost glued to the floor.

  So this is what it meant… Extreme backlash, eh?

  He stretched out his arms, testing their strength. Then he sat up slowly, scanning his surroundings for anything useful.

  Aaron quickly noticed daylight streaking across the deck, and a thought occurred to him.

  How long was I asleep?

  He opened his mouth in an attempt to speak, but no words came from his throat. Only silence echoed through the sea.

  Huh? Is being mute another side effect of the backlash?

  Aaron furrowed his brow in discontent and grabbed the edge of the ship, propping himself up as he checked the waters.

  His location had shifted further away from Sea Fallen; however, he was still within a safe distance, preventing the Ghostship from slipping into currents that would drag him deeper into the sea.

  The ocean in front of him had turned a strange reddish-brown, with no trace of the hydra anywhere in sight.

  Damn, I was hoping I could absorb that core and regain some strength…

  Turning his attention back to the ship, he noticed black scorch marks along the hull and planks missing or scattered across the deck.

  Near one of the broken segments, Mr. Crab, even smaller than before, held a stone hammer in his claws, carefully repairing the damage.

  Mr. Crab sure has seen better days… I owe him my life for throwing me to the deck after that explosion. Can’t thank him, though, so it’ll just have to be repaid by not cooking him later.

  Smirking at the crustacean, Aaron crawled along the wooden railing towards the captain's cabin, which had lost its door during the battle.

  As he reached the entrance, an uncomfortable sensation rose in his throat.

  Tingling pulses rippled through his neck, constricting his breathing and slowly suffocating him.

  What the… Did the backlash get worse?

  As the moments passed, the breathlessness faded and the tingling disappeared, leaving his throat sore and dry.

  “If only I had water…”

  Aaron’s eyes suddenly widened as he realized he had just spoken.

  So it wasn’t getting worse, it was healing… I don’t understand how it works but thank the Sea God it did.

  Not wasting a moment, he used his repaired vocal cords to issue a command to the Ghostship.

  “Resume course towards Sea Fallen…”

  The turquoise sails descended from the masts as the helm turned sharply in response.

  Aaron noticed that the blue flames had faded to mere sparks since the battle with the hydra, and he finally comprehended the side effects of what he had done.

  That weapon… The Ocean Rifter, as that mirror called it, completely saps the ship’s energy while also sending all the backlash to the user. No wonder it told me not to use it again before I master the ship… A majority of the damage was somehow nullified, but that might never happen again, so I need to be careful.

  Nodding in agreement with himself, he crawled inside the captain's cabin and made his way towards the map table.

  Hoisting himself onto a small stool in the corner, Aaron checked the map for the crimson skull that he had seen earlier.

  “That can’t be good…”

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  His eyes landed on the city of Sea Fallen, where the skull was currently situated.

  The area around the crimson mark was covered in an odd darkness, with the map blurring in those segments and preventing further analysis.

  Something bad is happening over there… Luckily, it seems to be far away from the Cathedral of Depths, where Eleanor is, so at least she’s alright.

  …

  Eleanor watched as large amounts of blood poured from Olivia’s arm, pooling across the stone floor around them.

  “Y-Your arm!”

  She half-stuttered a response, only to realize that her friend had a smile plastered across her face.

  “You’re so worried about this little thing?”

  Olivia spoke teasingly, holding up her mutilated arm. The limb had already begun to regrow, with the blood turning a dark black hue.

  Eleanor’s eyes widened as she struggled to comprehend the scene in front of her.

  “H-How did you do that!?”

  She spoke in complete disbelief as she watched her friend grab the axe that had fallen to the floor alongside her severed arm.

  The red-haired girl laughed softly before speaking in a calm voice.

  “It’s because of where we are that I was able to do this… Within the Mausoleum of Dreams, reality is simply an illusion.”

  Eleanor furrowed her brow as her confusion gave way to curiosity.

  “What do you mean?”

  She spoke cautiously, glancing back at the two figures. One of them, a woman, had turned to face them.

  Olivia smirked and gave the fearful Eleanor a sympathetic look.

  “Oh… I must’ve forgotten to mention this, but the moment you enter the mausoleum, your mind exits reality and enters the World of Dreams, which is produced by the sealed core.”

  She spoke quietly, pausing only to squint at the approaching woman.

  “Usually, you can fight off the effects, but with the seal damaged, it would take a Holy Saint or even the Pontiff herself to resist.”

  Eleanor’s understanding of the situation instantly collapsed as thousands of questions circled her mind.

  A world of dreams? This sounds similar to what Aaron mentioned after he consumed that sea terror core… Could they be related?

  Shaking her head to focus, Eleanor watched the woman slowly walk closer, the clack of her black heels echoing on the stone floor.

  The silver-haired woman stopped a short distance away from Eleanor and Olivia, who stood ready for a fight.

  She spoke in an unnatural voice that echoed throughout the chamber, causing cracks to form in the stone.

  “Ah, so it is you. I guess that fool was right about you living here… Well, no matter. You know how this dream world works better than anyone, right? So you know what the repercussions for death are.”

  Eleanor saw a flicker of despair cross her friend's face before it hardened into a harsh expression.

  Olivia took a deep breath before uttering words that hit Eleanor to her core.

  “Death is indeed permanent even in this place. Nobody can escape that, not even the Kings.”

  The woman across from the girls nodded slowly before laughing under her breath.

  “It’s good that you understand that. Now, shall we talk a little before we fight?”

  Olivia frowned, then shook her head and replied firmly.

  “I have nothing to discuss with puppets.”

  Eleanor was puzzled by her friend's response; however, she remained silent, only observing as the silver-haired woman spoke.

  “Perhaps you might think that, but since you are alone, you must know that there is no chance of victory in a true battle.”

  Olivia’s expression froze, her brow tightening in confusion.

  Standing beside Olivia, Eleanor stared at the woman with a sense of unease, still unsure of her intent.

  Am I too weak for her to even acknowledge? Or can she truly not see me?

  The strange occurrence left her thoughts muddled as she replayed the conversation in her mind, trying to make sense of it.

  N-Not once did she even glance in my direction… Does she not notice me?

  Olivia’s eyes darted between Eleanor and the woman, clearly unsettled by the oddity of the situation.

  Before either of the girls had a chance to speak, the crimson-eyed woman calmly drew a small flintlock from the void around her.

  “I don’t know why you were speaking to yourself before; however, whether you’ve finally cracked or not, you either listen to what I have to say or we can end this now.”

  The woman’s words confirmed Eleanor’s suspicions, though the reasons behind them remained unknown.

  She really can’t see me…

  Olivia turned her attention solely towards the silver-haired woman and spoke with steady resolve.

  “If those are my only options, then I choose to fight now rather than listen to someone like you.”

  As she spoke, the woman simply sighed and aimed her weapon at Olivia’s head.

  Olivia braced herself, but just as the woman was about to fire, a loud crack erupted from the core, followed by an intense scream.

  “ARIANNA!”

  A man’s voice rang out, heavy with fear, as the silver-haired woman whirled around to face him.

  His body warped and twisted under an invisible force, his arms stretching beyond human limits and ripping apart with a deafening crunch.

  The woman’s expression crumbled as she began to run; however, the ground below her suddenly disintegrated into dust, scattering crystal-like shards throughout the room.

  A deep rumbling echoed through the mausoleum as the reflective pieces of glass formed a structure around the crystal at the room’s center.

  Eleanor’s pupils dilated in recognition.

  “I-It’s forming a mirror…”