As time passed, the ship grew quieter.
The distant sounds of the crew gradually faded, until only the low creaking of the hull and the soft rhythm of the waves remained.
Deep night had settled over the vessel, wrapping the lower decks in heavy silence.
Jake sat with his eyes closed, resting his body while keeping his senses sharp.
Then—
His eyes suddenly opened.
Step.
Step.
Step.
Slow, deliberate footsteps echoed from the corridor outside.
They were not rushed, nor heavy… yet each step carried a strange, unnatural clarity in the otherwise silent night.
Jake's hand slowly moved to the hilt of his sword.
Across from him, Grace also froze.
Her golden eyes lifted from her gun, instantly alert as she quietly shifted her posture, ready to move at any moment.
The footsteps continued at a steady pace.
They were getting closer.
Jake's expression hardened.
It was happening again.
Then, without warning, the footsteps stopped...
...Right in front of Jake's door.
