Chapter 234: Silence ...Silence. Absolute, suffocating silence pressed against Finn’s eardrums like it was the loudest noise. The world disappeared. Visibility dropped to an arm’s length, if that. Thick white fog pressed in from all directions, so dense it felt almost solid. Finn couldn’t see the deck beneath his feet, nor could he see the navigation station he was still gripping. He could barely even see his own hands when he held them up before his face. The wood, the metal, the instruments... everything had vanished into white. The ship had stopped accelerating. In fact, Finn couldn’t tell if they were moving at all. There was no sensation of motion any longer. And the Tidebreaker had gone completely and utterly silent. Only the sound of silent breathing could be heard. Everyone was trying to be as still as possible, but in this deafening silence each inhale and exhale sounded like thunder. "Everyone listen to me!" Vara’s voice suddenly cut through the stillness, surprisingly steady and firm. "Do not move. No matter what you see or hear, stay exactly where you are. Do not trust your senses. Trust only yourself and remain still—" The words had barely left her mouth when a shriek tore through the fog. "C—Captain? Stay away from me! What—What happened to your face?!" The voice sounded like it came from somewhere toward the stern, but the fog distorted the direction, making it impossible to pinpoint the exact location. "Marylene! Carrick! What’s wrong with all of you?! Why are you looking at me like that?!" Finn recognized the voice now. Hendrick. A younger sailor who’d joined the crew just before departure. Enthusiastic. Friendly. Always quick with a joke. "No! No! Stay back! Don’t touch me! Don’t—" The sound of running footsteps was heard, frantically thudding against the wooden floorboards. Then it was followed by a scream that cut off abruptly with a splash... the sound of a body hitting water, before silence reigned. There was no sound of struggle or rippling, almost like the water had swallowed Hendrick whole and simply erased him from existence. "Hendrick!" Another voice called out — Carrick, one of the sailors whose name had been shouted. His voice was desperate and confused. "Hendrick, are you there?! Answer me!" "Do not move!" Vara commanded sharply, her voice cracking slightly but still authoritative. "That wasn’t real! Whatever you think you saw, whatever you think you heard, it’s not real! Stay where you are!" Another shriek erupted from a different part of the ship. A woman’s voice this time, raw with terror. "No! No, you’re dead! You died last month! You can’t be here!" Then another scream. A man sobbing. Someone shouting names of people who weren’t on the ship. Splashes followed. Bodies hitting water that Finn still couldn’t see, one after another, after another. "Hold fast!" Vara kept shouting, and now there was desperation in her voice. "Nothing is real! It’s the fog! It’s trying to trick you! Trust only yourself! Don’t move!" More screams erupted across the invisible deck. Some sailors were obeying Vara’s commands, screaming at visions only they could see while refusing to move from their positions. "You’re not real! You’re not real! Get away from me!" "I know you’re dead! I buried you! You can’t be here!" "Don’t touch me! Don’t—!" But others succumbed, and more splashes, and more silence followed, filling everyone with deeper dread. Finn remained exactly where he was, gripping his station so hard his hands ached. He couldn’t see anything past his outstretched arm. But more troubling than the blindness was the dangerous sensation crawling across his skin. A bone-deep certainty that he couldn’t use his powers here — particularly his divine powers. He had already sealed them away to build lore, using only his Transcendent powers here and there. But he could feel with every fibre of his being that if he were to call upon his divine essence, even at the slightest, this fog would turn on him like he was a virus. Extinguish his existence in the blink of an eye. He would die immediately. However, while that was a threat, he knew he wasn’t going to use his divine powers for anything at all. What surprised him though, was that even his Transcendent abilities, even Error itself gave him a similar feeling. It was less than the threat he felt to his divine essence. But he could tell that if he used his Transcendent abilities something dangerous would definitely happen. This fog radiated an active hostility towards the usage of anything beyond mundane human capability. He just hoped Thalia — or rather, Althea, would also be able to feel it. He considered somehow getting across to her not to attempt using her Transcendent powers at all, but after thinking about it, besides the risk of moving, he also felt fairly certain she’d already sensed the danger. It was too obvious and too overwhelming to miss. Still, he would prefer to warn her if he could, if only to make absolutely sure... "Arros?" His head snapped up. Through the white, a silhouette emerged from the endless nothing. Althea? Her voice came again, uncertain and questioning. "Arros? Is that you?" Finn said nothing. The silhouette moved closer with light footsteps. "Arros?" A whisper now, barely audible over the oppressive silence. "I can sense you. I know you’re there." Still, he remained silent, watching as the silhouette got closer. She was close enough now for him to make out her features. It was the same purple hair, tied back in a braid. The same familiar face with those intense eyes. The same traveling clothes Althea had been wearing. Her expression was confused, concerned, uncertain. "Why won’t you answer?" She was within arm’s length now. "Is it because of what the Captain said? Do you..." A slight, nervous laugh that sounded genuine escaped her lips. "Do you think I’m not real or something?" She reached out toward him as his face came fully into view. Then abruptly, her face twisted into pure, absolute terror. Her eyes went wide, pupils dilating to pinpricks as she stared at Finn like she’d seen the complete annihilation of her existence. A devilish, inhuman snarl escaped her lips and she lunged forward with sudden violent intent. But it was too late. Her body lacked the strength for the attack. The lunge was slow and clumsy, already failing before it even started. She looked down, movements sluggish and confused, and saw the reason she felt so weak. A dagger, protruding from where her heart should be. Blood spurted from her mouth in a thick, dark stream. "Your disguise was too weak." Finn looked at her coldly as he pushed the blade deeper and twisted. "First, Althea would never leave Ailin’s side. Never. If the Blessed had been with you, I might have considered believing it." He pulled the dagger free with a wet sound. "And second..." The thing wearing Althea’s face collapsed to the deck with a heavy thud. "...Althea is not so weak that she wouldn’t notice me covertly handling a dagger." He watched as the body below him began to change. The flesh twisted and rippled, melting into a slithering mass of grey worm-like substance. Hundreds, or maybe thousands, of thin, writhing tendrils pulsed and twisted on the deck for a moment, making wet, squelching sounds as they rapidly dissolved. The mass liquefied, turning into a boiling, acidic grey puddle that spread across the wooden planks. Finn could hear the sizzle as it ate into the wood, releasing a pungent, nauseating stench. Finn grimaced, opening his mouth to comment on the terrible smell, but he abruptly paused as he felt multiple presences focus on his position and begin to close in rapidly.