Gunmage-Chapter 20: Whispers in my mind

Ozan drove the dagger forward with brutal force. In a desperate bid for survival, the lieutenant caught the blade with his bare hands. Steel cut deep into his palms, and blood flowed freely, dripping onto the sand. Yet, through sheer will, he clenched down, locking Ozan's arm in place. A wretched smile stretched across his face, his teeth stained red with blood.

Ozan scoffed and was about to initiate a follow-up attack when a voice called out,

"Stop! You don't need to go that far."

His grip on the blade tightened, but he turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing. Standing a few feet away, Sergeant Lyra held a dagger of her own—not in outright threat, but as if to remind him that she was armed.

"Oh? You siding with this bastard?"

"Of course not," she said flatly "I actually want him dead way more than you do."

"Then—"

"But,"

She cut in, tone still detached

"killing him now might be a waste. He could be useful later."

She wasn't pleading, she wasn't even insisting. If Ozan chose to ignore her, then there was naturally nothing else to say. What was she supposed to do? Fight him over it? Now that would be stupid.

Ozan studied her for a moment before pulling back.

"I'm keeping this"

he waved the knife in the air before walking away. The lieutenant slumped to the floor in exhaustion. His body ached in ways he hadn't thought possible, but—at least, he was still alive.

The group reassembled, though the air was heavier than before. Awkward silence settled over them like a thick fog. The formerly pompous lieutenant lay in the sand, his posture defeated, his face bloodied and drawn.

The blonde youth was still nursing his stomach, his eyes filled with resentment that was directed at no one in particular.

Ozan just stood there quietly like a ghost, silently watching them all like a vulture waiting for something to die.

And Lugh? Lugh didn't care enough to be bothered. He wasn't looking at them. Wasn't even paying attention. Instead, he sat hunched over, absently tracing strange shapes in the sand.

No one spoke for a long time.

Then—

"I'm Aldric,"

The slender recruit piped up, clearly uncomfortable with the quiet.

"And this is Emil."

He gestured toward the blonde, who barely spared a glance.

No one responded.

Aldric shifted, then cleared his throat, forcing a smile.

"Sooo..."

He started again, hoping to bring up a topic but fell short of words.

"How did you all get here?"

It was Lugh who spoke.

Sergeant Lyra looked at him in surprise, but he hadn't even turned to face them. He was still playing with sand.

"It was crazy,"

The young soldier immediately launched into an explanation as if he'd been waiting for someone to ask.

"Our ship—man, it just shot into the sky, like hundreds of feet up. Next thing I knew, the whole damn thing crumpled like a tin can. Barely had time to jump before it was crushed."

Then he paused, traces of fear lingering in his eyes.

"Most of us died in the fall. I—I think I got hit by debris. Honestly, I shouldn't even be alive."

Everyone shifted uncomfortably.

"When did this happen?" Lyra asked in curiosity.

"Just some moments after the sea turned red."

Ozan frowned.

"The what?"

Aldric gave him a bewildered look.

"The sea! It turned completely red, like blood. You had to see it."

"Never happened."

The statement was firm.

Aldric blinked.

"But—how? We were in the same fleet!"

Ozan crossed his arms, deep in thought.

"Where I was, anyone who looked at the sky died instantly."

"It was the same for me."

"Me too."

"Me three—"

"Oh, shut it."

After everyone had given their confirmations, he continued,

"...I ran into a cabin to take cover. After that, nothing. When I woke up, I was here. I didn't see any red sea"

"Interesting," Lugh murmured. Lyra shot him another glance. He still hadn't turned to face them.

"Wait, that's what you call interesting?"

Aldric scoffed.

The sourc𝗲 of this content is frёeωebɳovel.com.

"My ship rose into the air and exploded, that's some next-level shit right there. That is interesting."

Lugh didn't reply.

Instead, he just kept drawing on the sand

Aldric clicked his tongue then turned to Lyra.

"What's up with him?"

She forced an awkward laugh. "Oh, don't mind him. Lugh is just—different."

The lieutenant, surprisingly, was the next to speak. His voice was raw, but steady.

"Our ship was in the vanguard,"

he said.

"A whirlpool appeared out of nowhere. We were sucked in immediately."

"We got past that thing,"

Emil muttered, still rubbing his stomach.

"Only for some big-ass tentacles to rip our ship apart and drag us under."

"What about you, Sergeant, how did you get here?"

The person who asked this question was neither Aldric nor Emil. It wasn't Dain and it wasn't Ozan. It was Lugh.

You already know that,"

She replied, confused.

Lugh didn't look up.

"Do I?"

The tone was... strange.

She frowned.

"Yes. You do."

A beat of silence.

"Interesting,"

Lugh murmured again. Then he said nothing else.

A strange unease settled over Lyra's chest.

"...Hey, Lugh, are you okay?"

There was a brief pause. Then, finally, for the first time since the conversation started, Lugh raised his head. His red eyes flicked toward her, distant, unreadable.

"Of course I'm okay,"

he said.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Then, just as quickly, his head dropped back down, and he resumed tracing symbols in the sand.

The unease in Lyra's chest grew stronger.

Aldric, oblivious to the tension, tried to keep the conversation moving.

"Yo, kid—uh, Lugh. How'd you get here?"

Lugh didn't stop drawing.

"Oh, it's nothing much, really,"

he started.

"I got attacked by some inhuman soldiers."

"Inhuman?"

"Souls extinguished,"

Lugh muttered absently.

"Like empty shells. Anyway, after that, the engine failed. I jumped to another ship. Escaped the whirlpool. Oh, right, then that ship snapped in half."

He spoke like he was trying to recall a distant memory

"And the sky?"

Silence

"Yeah right, things only became worse when I saw the sky."

The air grew still.

"You—you saw it?"

"Yeah."

He kept tracing.

"It looked me in the eye. I almost died. No big deal."

Someone shifted

"Uh—do you feel any different?"

Lugh hummed in thought

"You know, I always heard that looking at an eldritch horror was supposed to give you infinite knowledge at the cost of your sanity,"

he mused. Then, casually:

"The only thing I got was an itchy right eye and voices whispering in my head."

The silence was deafening.

Then laughter, forced, it came from Lyra.

"Good one, Lugh!"

She barked, a little too loud.

"Finally developing a sense of humor, huh? That was a nice joke"

"Joke?"

He echoed

"Why would I joke about something like that?"

The color drained from Lyra's face.

The temperature around them dropped.

"Lugh,"

she said again, voice careful,

"Are you okay?"

This time, he did look up.

His head tilted robotically, and his voice, though calm, sent a ripple of dread through them all.

"Why do you keep asking me that?"

He murmured.

"Don't I look okay?"

Everyone took a step back.

Something was terribly, terribly wrong.