The Saint Zephirea. A ghost ship... Spark had heard of this vessel. But the rumors and information about it were vague.
Spark's gaze narrowed. He instinctively summoned his Power Rifle from the technomind space. Combat was an inevitability in this world. A ghost ship could just be another variety of foe.
He readied himself. His muscles tensed beneath his combat outfits. The latent power of his Jackmaster abilities was already stirring within his soul.
"No need to prepare for a fight yet, Master." Serenade's voice cut through the growing tension. It was calm and surprisingly clear amidst the swirling mists.
She stepped forward. Her mature yet young appearance looked alluring even in the gloomy atmosphere. "At least, not yet. This ghost ship… we might be very lucky."
Spark lowered his rifle. Though his stance remained ready. He cast a skeptical glance at Serenade. "Lucky? I'd never heard ghost ship encounter brings luck."
Serenade smiled. Her hazel eyes fixed on the approaching galleon. Though her mind was clearly elsewhere. Sifting through ancient knowledge.
"Not every ghost ship is the same." She explained. "The Saint Zephirea is actually very well-documented within the archives of the Holy Sun Cult, the very organization I once served. It was made by the cult after all."
"Created by Holy Sun Cult?" Spark prompted in curiosity.
"The Saint Zephirea was built several hundred years ago. By the fifth generation of Holy Sun Cultists. Its purpose was unique, almost blasphemous even by their standards." Serenade said.
"It was designed to allow living beings to travel to the Underworld – the realm where the souls of the departed reside." She continued. "The ship itself was named after Saint Zephirea, the second-generation high priestess of the cult, a revered figure who was said to possess an unparalleled understanding of soulcraft and dimensional travel."
Serenade paused, taking a breath. "The ship was infused with potent rituals and complex runes, all designed to breach the veil between worlds. However, something went wrong during its maiden voyage."
"What went wrong?" Scarlett curiously asked.
"Nobody knows. A fundamental miscalculation. Or perhaps an unexpected surge of magical energy. The legend said that the ship gained a partial sentience." Serenade explained.
"It refused to obey its creators' command to journey to the Underworld. Instead, it diverted its course. Breaking free of their control. And transporting its passengers to a legendary location: the Ancient Island of Glory."
"What happened next?"
"After the ship brought back the survivors from the Ancient Island, it wandered by itself. The Holy Sun Cult tried to take it back. But they never succeeded."
Spark listened silently. His mind was categorizing the information. Semi-sentient ship. Dimensional travel. The dimensional travel feature seemed familiar.
"So, it's a Labyrinth Gateway then?" He concluded. The gears were already turning in his mind. "Like the one on Canarine Island, but a mobile one?"
Serenade's eyes widened slightly in surprise at his quick deduction. "Precisely. According to the cult's texts, the Saint Zephirea became a perpetually wandering anomaly."
"It randomly appeared." She continued. "Often after a terrible storm. Ferrying fortunate, or unfortunate, souls to the Ancient Island of Glory. It is not a true ghost ship in the haunting sense. Rather, it was a complex, mobile dimensional conduit."
A slow, predatory grin spread across Spark's face. The notion of a wandering Labyrinth Gateway was too valuable to ignore. Canarine's Labyrinth of Fortune had yielded unimaginable fortune. Who knew what this 'Ancient Island of Glory' might hold?
"Alright!" He declared. His voice was booming over the gentle lapping of waves against their still-damaged sloop. "We'll board it."
His subordinates exchanged glances. A mix of apprehension and eager anticipation could be seen on their faces.
"How do we get on?" Lilith asked. Her hands tightly held the hilt of her summoned cursed dagger and arcane handgun.
The ghost ship was now practically beside their sloop. It was much bigger and taller compared to their sky ship.
Spark used his technomind connection to activate the sloop. Levitating it slightly above the ghost ship's deck. And then, he gestured with his massive hand. "Jump."
He took the lead. Leaping across the narrow gap between their levitating sloop and the ghost ship's listing deck. His powerful legs absorbed the impact easily. The deck felt solid beneath his boots. Remarkably firm for something so ancient and decayed.
The wood was dark. Almost black. It was slick with what felt like eons of sea spray and some unidentifiable residue. The phosphorescent glow emanating from within the hull cast long, dancing shadows. Making the ship seem alive with spectral energy.
His women followed without hesitation. Scarlett cleared the gap with a fluid, almost cat-like grace. Melody, nimble despite her youth, landed lightly. Ivy, with her alchemist's precision, judged the distance perfectly. Lilith and Serenade followed suit.
All of them were armed. Ready for whatever the legendary vessel might throw at them.
Spark looked back at their levitating sloop. With a thought, he channeled his technomind gear connection. The Sky Grimoire, his custom-built sky ship, shimmered.
Its wooden frame and metallic components were compressed. Twisting and shrinking until it became little more than an intricately bound book. He reached out. Plucking the miniature vessel from the air.
With another silent command, it vanished into his Technomind Space. A personal, pocket dimension accessible only to him. A place he could use to store any technomind gear.
The disappearance of their own ship seemed to emphasize the sheer, overwhelming presence of the Saint Zephirea. The air on the deck was still. Heavy with the scent of salt, decay, and something else… something faintly metallic. Like old blood.
The silence was profound. Broken only by the creak of ancient timbers. They moved cautiously. Their footsteps were muffled.
"Serenade!" Spark's deep voice cut through the silence. "How do we activate this Labyrinth Gateway? Where is the focal point?"
Serenade scanned the deck. Her eyes were moving with purpose. "The legend indicates the ship's will, its sentience, is bound to its helm. The steering wheel is the key. It's essentially the ship's heart."
They moved towards the stern. Navigating around the skeletal remains of what might have been cargo or long-rotted rigging. The helm stood tall. A magnificent, intricate structure... of dark, weathered wood and corroded brass.
A colossal steering wheel. Its spokes were twisted and encrusted with barnacles. It dominated the space. It glowed with the same sickly green light as the rest of the ship.
Spark approached it. His imposing figure was slightly dwarfing the ancient mechanism. He stretched out a hand. His fingers, thick and powerful, wrapped around a spoke of the massive wheel.
The moment his skin made contact, a surge of raw energy coursed through him. It wasn't painful. But it was immense. Like being plugged into a power grid. The Saint Zephirea hummed. A low, resonant thrumming that vibrated through the deck.
Then, the world shattered.
It wasn't an explosion. Or a sudden flash. It was a visual and tactile disintegration. The dark mist around them cracked and fragmented into glittering shards of light.
The spectral glow of the ship dissolved. Into motes of emerald dust. The very air rippled. Stretched. And then tore like rotten fabric.
A rush of wind, hot and fragrant, replaced the cold, damp chill. The familiar scent of blood and decay vanished. Replaced by the earthy aroma of damp soil, exotic flowers, and green vegetation.
The world was solidified again. They were still on the deck of the Saint Zephirea. But the ship was no longer adrift in a churning, misty sea.
It was firmly docked within a hidden cove. The water was crystalline. Reflecting a sky of brilliant, cloudless blue. And surrounding them was an island that defied all typical expectations.
Everything on this island was gargantuan.
The trees that towered over the cove were colossal. Their trunks were wider than five Spark combined. Their canopy was a dense, emerald roof. One that blocked out half the sky.
Vines as thick as a man's leg snaked down from immense branches. Disappearing into a lush, impossibly green undergrowth.
Giant ferns. Each frond was the size of a small boat... They were unfurled from the ground. Even the rock faces of the cove seemed to stretch infinitely upward. Covered in mosses and lichens. Ones that glistened with a peculiar, vibrant luminescence.
"The Ancient Island of Glory, huh?" Spark mumbled. His voice was as usual. Deep.
Spark expression was impassive. But his mind raced. This was more than just a large island. It was a place where the very scale of nature had been warped.
It was practically a Labyrinth. A new challenge. A new opportunity.
"Be ready for anything." He commanded his women. His voice was carrying an edge of authority. "We don't know what lives here, or how 'glorious' it actually is."
They disembarked. Stepping onto the soft, dark earth of the cove. The air was warm and humid. And filled with the chirps and rustles of unseen creatures.
Spark surveyed the landscape. His sharp dark-grey eyes were taking in every detail of the oversized flora. His mind was already formulating a plan.