As Adam gazed through the starry night sky from the peaceful blessed land, Julius did the same on the chaotic flying ship.
Dried blood coated the battered dark hull in a deep burgundy that filled his nostrils with the stench of decay. But it didn't bother him. Not anymore... not more than the cleaved tentacles writhing on the deck, the burnt body parts of sea beasts, and the stiff corpses of his former teachers, schoolmates, and refugees.
In two brief weeks of travel, he had seen horrors he could not name before they departed—the same his brother had tried to protect him from. Forget about innocent pranks and dark humour; only carnage, rage, and madness paved their path. The most ironic? It was supposed to be a path to hope.
The tumultuous dark flows beneath them engulfed people in the hundreds, and sea beasts devoured even more. As for those still on the deck? They were the lucky ones. After all, they still had a corpse to bury.
