The Silver-marked Expert of the pirate ship stood near the edge of the crash site, one hand pressed against a cracked section of the pirate ship's hull. The silver markings on her temples glowed faintly as she read the living runes that had already started climbing over the broken metal. The once invincible techno ship was dying. They had planned to begin to repair it, but the runes started suddenly consuming the ship directly. Slowly and Patiently. Wrapping new script over old steel like vines over a fallen wall.
It was like the ruin deemed the ship a foreign object or external help. So it suppressed it and slowly devoured it.
They had given up on trying to recover it.
Behind her, the Captain was on his knees in the dirt, both hands gripping a twisted piece of the hull like he could hold the whole ship together through sheer force. His face was red and wet.
