Before officially joining the NeverLight cohort, Halo experienced a dream, a vision even. The sight was so vividly overwhelming that it left him paralyzed for days.
It was a secret about this world.
He couldn’t tell if they were angels, demons, gods, or sothing beyond, but the presence was unmistakable. Celestial beings, without question.
From what he could recall, the beings rejoiced and celebrated in ways that celestial bodies shouldn’t. They could’ve been gambling, or perhaps doing sothing else entirely. But he’d seen too little to judge properly.
Nonetheless, these were the beings whose wrath would rain down on the world should the hero, Asterion, stand against them.
But why would that happen, considering there were people labeled Calamities who once stood against the gods? What made Asterion so different?
It was a mystery.
Having briefly played Damnation of the Gods before, he knew that was how the world ended, because of Asterion.
Halo had died once, and the odds of transmigrating again were slim. His death was already fated, but he wanted to live and die on his own terms this ti. To enjoy life at least a little.
And now, he was on the right path to control his own fate... to claim his autonomy.
***
There was a problem.
After days of sailing the fifth sea, they finally entered the sixth. But when they did, everything seed to stop. Halo panicked as all his clones vanished. Worse, there were no shadows anywhere, the world had none, and neither did he.
Before paranoia could set in, Jihriel grabbed his arm. "Keep calm."
There was no sun, no shadows, no sign of movent, no darkness at all, perhaps no night either. Quite the shift from the endless night sea they’d escaped.
A white do of sky surrounded them, light coming from everywhere at once. The danger wasn’t heat but direct exposure to the light, it blistered skin and burned eyes until the absence of shadows seed trivial.
Despite knowing almost nothing about this sea, they all knew instinctively not to close their eyes. Light word through invisible micro-cracks, too small to see. The whole ship shimred with it, as though they sailed without a roof.
Following Jihriel’s orders, they assembled in the training room, huddled on the floor like refugees escaping across a border.
The ship shifted, but there was no other movent. Only gentle breeze and white stretching endlessly.
Originally, Halo and Jihriel planned to observe the Ancient Light’s creation from a distance, the being who created the sixth sea. They were doing that now, just not in the way they’d expected.
His eyes swept across the room, taking in everyone’s horrified expressions as he searched for a solution.
Jihriel’s expression disturbed him most. Their leader stared blankly at the floor, golden eyes locked open, refusing to blink like the rest of them. He looked soullessly pale, vacant, and dead inside, his mind sowhere far beyond this room.
His terror was justified. No one knew what Jihriel’s True Ability looked like, but as a servant of Darkness, it wasn’t hard to guess. After all, both Dark Saint and Liam served Darkness, and their abilities were derived from darkness itself.
Jihriel going against soone who used light magic at this impossible rate would be a challenge. What went through his mind, only the heavens knew.
"Can you help? I’ll go blind at this rate."
Brave asked, turning to Thor with his eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets.
Thor brushed his mustache and shook his head, as if Brave’s obliviousness itself was an abomination.
"His ability can’t work."
Jihriel managed to scramble out a few words.
Halo turned to him, confused. He’d been wondering about Thor’s True Ability too. From what he’d seen, Thor could read minds, amplify his allies’ attacks, tell who’d make a good ally and who wouldn’t, and sohow steer their uncontrollable ship.
"He can’t really control his allies. At first, he could only tell who was truly on his side. Now, if the conditions are right, every ally becos like a clone of his, even objects. Not sothing he commands, but sothing that grows with him. He can feel them... tell if they’re okay. It’s more like taming than control. He can ask, not force."
Jihriel’s gaze was fixed on the floor, as if he’d just lived through a nightmare.
Halo swallowed hard. His eyes were dry and aching, nearly making him cry, but he hardly cared.
He saw an opportunity in Thor’s True Ability.
He hadn’t spoken to the old man before, his villain-like deanor scared him.
But if Thor could really tell how his allies were feeling, maybe he could tell him sothing about his sister, Delilah, too.
But that raised another question. Didn’t this an Thor knew Nava was a traitor all along? He could tell who was an ally and who wasn’t, right?
The mystery hung, but the damage was already done.
At the mont, his clones were gone, and he only prayed the Ancient Light’s domain hadn’t erased them.
There was only so much they could do, and they were just glad there weren’t any Sinners lingering around. That would have been a huge problem.
AAAAAAA!
Everyone turned to the corner of the room. Leto lay there, crouched on the floor. His eyes watered with evident, terrifying annoyance.
He’d been seasick the entire journey, and this was the only sea that didn’t feel like floating. Yet even this, he couldn’t enjoy.
He cursed everyone in the room, yanking his green hair as he went on to curse the gods and even his own parents.
His aggression amused them. They cursed him back, and insults flew.
Terrifying as it was, days passed without eating, drinking, or sleeping. How could they, when they couldn’t even blink?
How long they’d been on the Light Sea remained a mystery, there was no day or night. They could only track ti through pocket watches and the growing fatigue in their bodies.
If staring into nothingness without blinking could draw blood, Halo’s eyes would be bleeding. But all he felt was the bone-deep tiredness, by then, they’d grown almost used to keeping their eyes open.
Then, sothing shifted. Their skins crawled.
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