Chapter 29: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 1

I stepped into the cramped, dimly lit cabin of the Washington—my new temporary living quarters.

No—calling it a room was too generous.

It was a cell.

But I couldn’t blame them. If I were the captain of this ship, I’d probably have shot the strange boy hiding beneath a pile of corpses on sight.

"Lights out at seven. They turn back on at six. We’ll take you to the restroom an hour after wake-up and an hour before lights out. If you can’t hold it—use this."

Captain Holland—gray-haired, gray-eyed, and thoroughly unimpressed—spoke in a flat, detached tone as he tossed a wooden bucket onto the floor.

"Sounds good to me, sir." I flashed my most innocent, most sincere smile at him.

Holland’s narrowed gaze told me he wasn’t buying it.

"The door will be locked from the outside," he continued, voice measured and sharp. "Don’t even think about trying to leave."

He was already turning to shut the door when I spoke again.

"I understand, Captain. And truly, I appreciate your kindness. If you and your crew hadn’t come to that ship, I don’t know what would’ve happened to me. You could’ve just left a helpless kid like me behind, but you didn’t—"

Before I could finish my heartfelt gratitude, Holland stilled, keeping the door pressed shut with his shoulder.

And in the next second, he drew his revolver—smooth, effortless.

And aimed it right between my eyes.

"A kid?" he scoffed, his smirk razor-sharp. "Don’t insult my intelligence."

The steel in his tone was colder than the gun barrel.

"When you asked to go back to the fishing village with me—to identify the men who killed your father—you didn’t wait for a damn conversation. You grabbed my gun and executed every last person in that bar before a single word was spoken."

"I’m sorry," I said, lowering my gaze to the floor. My voice trembled, thick with grief. "I… I don’t know what came over me. I was just… so angry. I wanted them to hurt like I did."

"Angry?" Holland’s laugh was cold and cutting. "Funny, because I remember watching you put a bullet through every skull in that room in under ten seconds—calm, precise, and controlled. Doesn't sound like someone blinded by rage to me, kid."

His eyes gleamed like a predator’s, gauging every shift in my expression. If I were anyone else, I might’ve felt a chill run down my spine.

Instead, I kept my head down, letting my fingers curl tightly into the fabric of my sleeves.

"My father taught me to shoot when I was little," I murmured, my voice thick with longing, sorrow. "He always told me I had a gift for it… If he were still here, I think he’d be proud of me."

My shoulders shook, just a little.

I was just about to let a tear fall when—

"Oh, cut the bullshit."

Holland’s sharp bark cracked through the air like a gunshot.

"I don’t know who or what the hell you are, but drop the 'innocent kid' act. It’s just getting insulting at this point."

I lifted my chin, meeting his steely gaze—

And smiled.

Not the soft, earnest one from before.

A wide, knowing grin.

"If you’re judging me by how easily I kill, shouldn’t you be just as wary of your little samurai?"

For the first time, Holland’s expression twitched—just slightly.

"What the hell do you know about Rain?"

My grin widened.

"So, his name is Rain, huh?"

I let the words linger, watching Holland’s reaction carefully.

"I know he’s just as good at killing as I am. Maybe even better. So tell me, Captain—have you ever doubted him?"

Holland didn’t flinch.

Instead, he cocked the hammer back with a sharp, metallic click—the sound echoing like a death sentence in the small cabin.

"I’ve known Rain for a long time," he said coldly. "There’s nothing to doubt."

I couldn’t help it—I laughed. A small chuckle, genuine amusement bubbling to the surface.

"Oh? Not even once?" I tilted my head, voice light, teasing. "Never crossed your mind that he might not be just an ordinary kid?"

That—finally—made Holland hesitate.

Just for a fraction of a second.

But I caught it.

And that was more than enough.

I yawned, stretching my arms before flopping onto the bottom bunk with an exaggerated sigh.

"If you’re gonna shoot me, Captain, I’d suggest reloading first."

I made myself comfortable, folding my arms behind my head as my legs swung lazily off the edge of the bed.

"After all… I’m pretty sure I fired exactly six rounds from that revolver earlier."

I didn’t even bother opening my eyes when I heard the door slam shut.

…

I peeled off my soaked, bloodstained hoodie, hanging it on the small metal hook beside the bunk.

Then, with practiced ease, I lifted my shirt—just enough to reveal my stomach.

A bullet wound sat just above my navel. The entry point had already been sealed over, the blood clotting unnaturally fast—but the skin around it was a different story.

Black veins crawled outward, branching like twisted roots beneath my skin. They throbbed, pulsing in rhythm with my heartbeat—alive in a way that veins had no right to be.

My lips curled in irritation.

Damn you, Wasaru.

He had me. He had already brought me back—and yet, in the end, he still chose to kill me all over again.

Typical.

Still, I won in the end, didn’t I?

I never would’ve guessed a ship would pass by at just the right time. Never would’ve expected its captain to spare that cargo vessel instead of blowing it to pieces like my father wanted.

And then, the absolute stroke of luck—

They sent people aboard.

I glanced around my new surroundings, still marveling at my own good fortune.

But fate wasn’t done with me yet.

No.

My luck was only just beginning.

I met Senpai Rain.

Never in my wildest thoughts did I expect to encounter a Predecessor this early. The odds of such a meeting were impossibly slim, yet the moment we clashed—just one exchange—I knew.

The precise deflection of my knife.

The subtle shift of his katana, the way it turned my blade aside with an ease far beyond human reflexes.

There was no mistake. He was one of us.

It was unfortunate that he didn’t remember. But then again, forgetting was the greatest curse of the Predecessors, wasn’t it?

And that was why those who came after—us—were tasked with handling it.

It was our duty.

But he wasn’t the only curiosity on this ship.

There was that girl, too.

I felt my lips curl into a slow smile.

This was where things would start to get interesting.

I didn’t know how those things had managed to merge with her. I didn’t particularly care. What thrilled me was the coincidence—

How was it possible that one of them—the very creatures that had waged war against us—had fused with a human girl?

And even more astonishing—how had she ended up here, on the same vessel as a Predecessor?

This ship…

This ship was going to be far too fun.

I barely managed to wipe the grin off my face and tug my shirt back down over the writhing wound on my stomach when the sound of metal shifting in a lock reached my ears.

The door swung open.

A girl entered, carrying a tray of food.

I sighed inwardly, disappointed—it wasn’t her.

This girl had shoulder-length red hair, soft amber eyes, and a petite, almost delicate frame wrapped in a simple white T-shirt and fitted jeans. A bright orange crew uniform was tied loosely around her waist.

She stood at the threshold. Unmoving.

Our gazes met for a brief moment before she glanced down at the tray in her hands.

Steam coiled upward from a bowl of rich, hearty meat stew.

I didn’t even need to feign hunger.

Because at that exact moment—

My stomach growled loud enough to fill the entire room.

She startled slightly at the rumbling of my stomach before letting out a soft sigh and stepping inside.

“Sorry,” she muttered, placing the tray down. “The captain told me to be extra careful around you.”

She pressed her elbow against a metal panel on the wall, unfolding it into a makeshift table, then set the steaming bowl of soup atop it.

“Considering where your captain found me and what I did…” I met her gaze. “It makes sense that he wouldn’t trust me.”

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Then, with perfect sincerity, I added, “I’m sorry.”

Her amber eyes flickered with something like sympathy.

“You didn’t choose to be on that ship. Don’t blame yourself,” she said as she placed a spoon and a dull-edged fork beside the bowl. “I can’t even imagine what you must have been through.”

Internally, I smiled.

So, she believed me.

That meant Holland hadn’t told the crew about what happened at the tavern—hadn’t told them that I had stolen his gun and put a bullet into six heads without so much as a second thought.

Or maybe the truth simply hadn’t spread yet.

Either way, it was a good sign.

“It was terrifying…” I murmured, lowering my gaze.

Slowly, I raised my hands to cover my ears, as if I were still hearing the screams.

I felt her hand rest gently on my shoulder.

“I get it,” she said softly. “I’ve been through something similar myself. But you made it through. So you have to keep moving forward.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

She had fallen for it completely.

How naïve.

“Thank you,” I murmured. “You’re very kind, Miss…”

“Sonia,” she supplied, giving me a small smile. “And you don’t need to call me ‘Miss.’ We’re probably not that far apart in age.”

“I’m Satoru,” I said smoothly. Then, tilting my head slightly, I feigned a casual curiosity. “Are you a full-fledged crew member on this ship?”

Sonia frowned slightly, confused. “Of course I am. Why?”

“I just… noticed that there are two other kids onboard,” I replied, tilting my head. “Are they crew members too?”

She nodded immediately.

“Yeah, they’re my friends.”

I desperately wanted to pry for more details about the two—but I had to play this carefully. If I pushed too hard, it’d be too obvious.

How should I go about this?

“This ship is incredible,” I said, deliberately shifting the subject. I glanced around, letting my expression show genuine curiosity. “Just from the control panels and the equipment alone, you can tell it’s cutting-edge. What’s it called?”

“It’s called the Washington.”

She brightened, eager to talk.

“And yeah, I agree—it’s hard to believe the United States actually built something like this on their own. Esther and I were just talking about that the other day.”

My heart soared.

Two things.

First—the ship.

So this submarine—Washington—was an Underrican ship. That much was obvious from the name.

But the claim that the United States had built it themselves?

Impossible.

There was no way human technology, as it stood now, could have produced something like this.

Most likely, it was propaganda, a way to project power and prestige in the political arena.

What I really wanted to know was—

What was this vessel’s original name before it was rebranded as the Washington?

And even more importantly—

Esther.

That had to be her name.

I pushed aside my thoughts, forcing them into a fraction of a second, and kept the conversation moving.

“You might be right,” I said, nodding along. “It could’ve been a sunken or captured vessel that was salvaged and repaired.”

Sonia’s face lit up in excitement.

“Exactly! That’s what I think too! Maybe It could’ve originally belonged to the Soviet Empire!”

She was excited now.

Which meant she was vulnerable.

I decided to strike.

“There’s something I’ve been curious about,” I said, tilting my head slightly. “Since this is an Underrican ship, does that mean all of the crew are Underrican as well?”

“Nope,” Sonia replied. “The crew comes from all over the world.”

I nodded, feigning understanding.

“Yeah… I figured.”

Sonia frowned slightly.

“Why?”

I let a small smile tug at my lips.

"Well, if this ship truly belonged to the U.S. military, they wouldn’t have allowed a Soviet like you onboard," I said with a casual smile. "But since it’s an exploration vessel, I suppose it makes sense that they’re open to recruiting talented crew members from all over."

Sonia barely seemed to register the second half of my sentence.

She just stood there, frozen, her brows furrowing so deeply they nearly touched.

"How… did you know I was Soviet?"

I met her gaze with a friendly smile.

"I’ve been to the Siberian plains before," I lied smoothly. "I can recognize certain features unique to Soviets—pale skin, amber, brown, or light blue eyes, hair ranging from chestnut to red."

Sonia stared.

Her expression remained tense, like she was trying to decipher something about me.

I kept my posture relaxed as I fed her my carefully crafted deception.

"Oh? You mean you're not Soviet?" I asked, tilting my head innocently. "You really look like one! Or… maybe you're mixed?"

She hesitated.

"No… I was born in the U.S.," she muttered, almost absentmindedly.

Then she fell silent.

Thinking.

I had nudged something loose.

I could see it.

"Ah, I’m sorry," I said quickly, lowering my head slightly in an apologetic gesture. "That was rude of me—I shouldn’t have assumed."

"Hey, don’t worry about it," Sonia said, forcing a weak smile. She patted my shoulder lightly. "I should get back to my shift. Make sure to eat while it’s still hot, alright?"

I watched her leave the room.

And finally—

I let my smile widen.

Sonya—or Sonia, as the name is sometimes spelled—was a derivative of Sophia, an ancient Greek word meaning wisdom. It was a name widely used by Russians from the Old World. Apparently, that legacy had carried over into this one as well.

I knew full well that the conflict over the oil rigs in Alaska had pushed the U.S. and the Soviets into war, and for the past decade, tensions between the two superpowers had been at an all-time high. There was no way the U.S. government would openly claim to have built a new warship and then allow a potential Soviet spy aboard.

Which meant Sonia was either hiding her true origins—or she wasn’t even aware of them herself.

Either way…

It was something I could use.

Slowly, I lifted the spoon to my lips and took another sip of soup.

Only then did I realize—

I was still smiling.

The warm broth dripped from the corner of my mouth, trailing down my chin.

This was getting far too interesting.

…

After finishing the soup, I spent the rest of the day sleeping.

I had exerted myself far too much aboard the Aurora—but more importantly, I wanted to be wide awake when tonight arrived.

I was well aware of how shifts operated aboard a submarine. There would always be crew members on duty, rotating through the cycles of maintenance, monitoring, and navigation—but the night shift would be smaller, allowing the rest of the crew to maintain a balanced rest cycle.

And that made it the perfect time for her to make her move.

But before that—

I needed to meet him first.

After our brief exchange aboard the Aurora, I had no doubt.

He was going to come looking for me.

Following the breadcrumbs I had so kindly left behind.

And at last—

Thirty minutes past lights-out.

He came.

I had been watching the clock on the wall, sitting at the edge of my bed, bathed in the dim, crimson glow of the emergency lights.

That was when he entered the room.

I lifted my gaze to meet him.

He looked younger than me.

But that was both a strength and a weakness of those who came before.

His deep violet eyes, so dark they nearly blended into black, were unreadable—his face a mask of absolute indifference.

No emotions. No hesitation.

A perfect blank slate.

"Is it bath time already?" I asked, feigning innocence.

Rain stared at me, expression unchanging. Even I couldn't read him in the slightest.

But at the same time—

I knew he couldn’t read me either.

"Before that," he said, voice flat. "There's something I need to ask you."

Instantly, I put on a look of regret.

"I'm really sorry about your hand, Senpai," I murmured, tilting my head with just the right amount of guilt. "At the time, it was the only way I could think of to survive."

His hand was still wrapped in bandages, though he could move it without issue.

I was certain—a wound like that wouldn’t slow him down at all.

"It doesn't matter," he dismissed it as if the injury was meaningless. "You said you knew me."

This time, I let a real smile creep onto my face.

"Of course I do, Senpai," I said softly. "After all, there are fewer than a hundred of us in this world. Are you sure you don’t remember me at all?"

Rain shook his head.

"I've never met you before."

"I've never met you either, Senpai," I admitted with a smile. "But we naturally recognize one another, don’t we?"

Unless, of course—

"You've lost your memories."

Rain didn’t respond.

He simply stared at me, face blank as ever.

But I knew—deep inside, he was thinking.

Weighing my words.

Deciding whether to believe me.

Of course, he would.

He had to.

Because I already knew—those who came before always had their memories erased.

"Who exactly are you?" he finally asked.

I chuckled softly.

"The real question is, who are we?" I kept my smile intact, watching him carefully. "But before I give you that answer, Senpai, there’s something I need to ask of you first."

Rain fell silent again.

I took that as my cue to continue.

"There is a great danger on this ship."

…

I awoke the moment the lock shifted.

But I didn’t move.

Didn’t stir.

The click was faint, deliberate.

Whoever was unlocking my door wanted silence.

Which meant I already knew who it was.

The door opened.

Then shut again, just as quietly.

I remained still.

Feigning sleep.

Until—

"I know you're awake."

My eyes opened.

I sat up.

And met the glowing amber gaze of the shadow before me.

"What brings you here?" I asked.

The figure stepped closer.

"You shouldn’t be on this ship."

A girl’s voice—empty, devoid of emotion.

A perfect monotone.

"Why not?" I tilted my head.

"Because you are a threat." Her amber light flickered. "A danger to this world and to your own kind. You are something that should not exist. You are something that must be eliminated."

I let out a low chuckle.

"And who gets to decide that?" I spread my arms in mock surrender. "You?"

The shadowed figure before me didn’t answer.

So, I continued.

"Reaching the top of the food chain in this world must be something your species takes great pride in, huh?" I tilted my head slightly, keeping my expression amused. "Perhaps that’s why you despise humans so much—because you know you’re losing. Because deep down, you realize your kind is about to become just another prey for a predator that never stops evolving."

The girl’s amber eyes flickered, cold and unreadable.

"You are not evolution," she said flatly.

"And your struggle for survival isn’t either," I countered without missing a beat.

"A species like yours—one that relies on hive-mind communication—has been forced to lower itself to becoming a parasite—latching onto the very creatures you despise—just to stay alive." I let my grin widen. "That, my dear, is your next stage of evolution. A parasite."

The golden light in her eyes flared—a warning, a flash of raw fury.

In that split second, I saw steel glint in her hand as she lunged forward.

The knife aimed straight for my throat.

I didn’t move.

Didn’t flinch.

And just as the blade was about to reach me—

Rain slammed into her from behind.

The force sent her crashing into the wall, her wrist pinned under his grip.

The knife trembled in her grasp.

"You’re not a killer."

Rain’s voice was calm—steady.

The girl’s glowing amber gaze locked onto his.

I could see it—the conflict behind her expression.

The hesitation.

"You’re not a killer," Rain repeated.

Her fingers slowly uncurled.

The knife clattered to the floor.

Then, her body went limp.

She collapsed.

Rain barely caught her in time.

I let out a long, dramatic sigh before rising from the edge of the bed.

"I told you, didn’t I?" I murmured, dusting off my sleeves. "The thing inside her is dangerous—to us, to her—and to everything that still breathes on this wretched planet."

I tilted my head, watching Rain carefully. "We need to remove it before it’s too late. A surgical extraction should do the trick. Remove the organ it’s fused to—and she’ll be just fine."

Rain lifted her unconscious form into his arms with practiced ease.

"In the end, she didn’t kill you, did she?" he murmured.

I tilted my head, offering a playful smile.

"But if you hadn’t been here, I might have had to fight back." I let out a soft chuckle. "And trust me, the outcome wouldn’t have been pretty."

"Not my problem," Rain replied flatly.

His grip on her was firm, steady—but his gaze remained locked onto me.

"I held up my end of the deal," he said. "Now tell me—who the hell are we?"

I grinned.

"We," I said, "are the Seekers."

His expression didn’t change.

"What are we seeking for?"

My grin widened.

"Now that," I whispered, "is something you'll have to figure out on your own."

Rain's brows furrowed slightly.

I could tell he didn’t like that answer.

"Did you really think that saving me once would make me spill everything?" I teased. "Don’t worry, senpai. There will be plenty of chances for me to share… certain things with you."

I folded my arms, watching as he studied me for a long, silent moment.

Then, without another word, he turned and walked out—carrying the girl with him.

I waited until the door clicked shut.

Then, slowly, I exhaled the breath I'd been holding.

The hardest part was over.

A grin curled at the edges of my lips.

Perfect.

With a quiet hum, I reached down, picking up the knife from the floor.

Twirling it between my fingers, I slipped it beneath my shirt.