Liquid Crystal spun around, spotting a middle-aged man slumped against the wall. His body was limp, his breaths also ragged.
"A survivor!"
He rushed over, crouching beside him. The man's lips moved, struggling to form words—but before he could say anything, his chest rose one final time… and fell silent.
Liquid Crystal's gaze dropped to the massive, gaping wound in the man's midsection.
"Excessive blood loss... There was no saving him."
He pressed his earpiece.
"Boss? Clark? Do you copy?"
Silence.
Whirring.
He tried again.
Nothing.
"Lost communication… Must be the storm."
With a sigh, he pushed forward, continuing his sweep of the upper decks.
Eventually, he came across a massive door adorned with intricate engravings. Blood splatters stained the carved designs, a grotesque contrast to their craftsmanship.
Liquid Crystal hesitated for only a moment before pushing it open.
