Ganya navigated the narrow corridor with a measured pace, tugging at the edges of his uniform to ensure it sat neatly against his frame. Already, the cold drafts creeping in from outside pricked at his skin, a stark contrast to the relative warmth of the interior. As he reached the exit and stepped onto the deck, the elements greeted him with an unforgiving embrace—an icy gust howled through the open space, sharp as a blade, forcing him to instinctively raise an arm to shield his face.
The deck was slick with moisture, glistening under the muted light of the overcast sky. Droplets clung stubbornly to the railings and pooled in the crevices between metal plates, a silent herald of the storm that loomed on the horizon. Overhead, the sky churned with menacing intent, swollen banks of dark cumulonimbus clouds swelling and pressing ever closer. The atmosphere carried a charged weight, thick with the electric anticipation of an impending deluge.
A sudden, thunderous roar shattered the rhythmic howling of the wind, a deep, guttural growl that seemed to reverberate through the very frame of the aethermotive. Ganya started at the sound, his breath catching in his throat as he turned his gaze skyward. The clouds had drawn closer still, their hulking forms like mountains adrift in the heavens, their inky depths shifting and rolling with ominous energy. A ripple of unease passed through him, settling deep in his gut.
He had patrolled the skies before, but never in weather as foreboding as this. Although logic dictated that an aethermotive was far safer aloft than a ship caught in the thrashing chaos of the sea below, there was something profoundly unsettling about soaring at the same altitude as the storm itself. Up here, where the sky reigned supreme, the sheer, unbridled force of nature felt inescapable. Man was never meant to be here, he thought. Suspended in the heavens, at the mercy of the storm.
Letting out a weary sigh, Ganya swept his gaze across the deck, searching for his comrade amidst the dim, wind-swept surroundings. It didn’t take long for him to spot Caterio Novion standing at the raised bow, his stance firm despite the relentless gales buffeting the aethermotive. Without hesitation, Ganya trudged forward, bracing against the wind as he made his way toward him. His voice had to rise above the deafening howl of the storm. «Cate! How’s it going? »
Caterio remained silent at first, his attention fixed on the distant horizon as he peered through a pair of binoculars. The polished lenses reflected fleeting flashes of lightning dancing among the gathering storm clouds. After a moment, he finally lowered the device and exhaled. «All good,» he said, though his tone carried a trace of unease. He cast a wary glance toward the looming storm front. «It’s about to pour. I don’t understand why Trierarch Korivia isn’t descending.»
As if on cue, the aethermotive suddenly veered, its course shifting with a perceptible lurch beneath their feet. The subtle but distinct change sent a ripple through the deck, making both men instinctively adjust their footing. Ganya arched a brow at the sudden maneuver before smirking slightly.
«Well, never mind that,» Caterio muttered.
Ganya turned toward the stern, lifting a hand in a casual salute toward the pilothouse before shifting his gaze back to his companion. The biting wind tore at his coat, seeping through the fabric, and he couldn't help but shiver slightly. «Aren’t you cold, Cate? You’ve been out here for a while.»
Caterio barely reacted, his expression remaining impassive as he rolled his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. «I’m used to it. Unlike you, this isn’t my first rodeo.» His keen eyes swept over Ganya from head to toe, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. «I can’t wait to see how you handle winter.»
Ganya exhaled sharply, half in amusement, half in irritation, and crossed his arms over his chest. But instead of biting back, he changed the subject with a knowing smirk of his own. «Anyway, your Krem¹ is still warm. Go drink it before Dokko steals it.»
«Oh, perfect! Here,» Caterio said, shoving the binoculars into Ganya’s hands with a lopsided grin. «Stay here until we land.»
Ganya blinked, gripping the device but frowning nonetheless. «But it’s about to rain…!»
Caterio snorted, already turning to head inside. «Oh, quit whining. You’re not afraid of a little water, are you?» he teased over his shoulder.
Before Ganya could fire back a retort, a thunderclap split the sky, rolling through the air with a force that sent vibrations rippling through the deck. This one was much closer. He sucked in a breath, glancing instinctively at the dark clouds above. The storm was nearly upon them.
Huffing, he lifted the binoculars to his eyes, scanning the horizon. The churning gray of the approaching tempest filled his vision, rain beginning to streak against the lenses. But then—he froze.
Something moved.
At first, he thought it was just the shifting currents of the storm, but no… There was something out there, cutting through the thick veil of rain and mist. Something unusual.
¹A popular Khijovian beverage, similar to coffee, known for its energizing effects.
