Last Supper

Rain sat on the edge of the pier, legs dangling over the abyss, with a slender sword resting across his lap. One hand gripped a damp cloth, methodically polishing the blade until its gleaming surface reflected his blank expression. His short, disheveled black hair and dirt-streaked face marked him as one of the countless stray youths haunting the docks—a common, unremarkable sight.

That's just how I like it, he thought, his eyes lazily scanning the surroundings.

The pier, typically a hub of chaotic activity, was particularly crowded today. A massive crowd had gathered—some in elegant suits, others in crisp naval uniforms. Their glasses sparkled with drinks Rain didn't recognize, and lavish tables groaned under the weight of unfamiliar delicacies. This was no routine dockside affair; it was a celebration.

Above them all loomed the centerpiece of the event: a colossal object suspended in midair, its immense bulk secured by chains thicker than Rain's torso, hanging steady from a crane that didn't dare sway despite the gusting wind. The object was a submarine, its sleek black hull absorbing the ambient light, casting a shadow over the pier like the carcass of a hunted leviathan awaiting dissection.

"Why aren't you joining the party?" came a calm, measured voice from behind.

Rain didn't turn, continuing to stroke his blade as he stared at the submarine. "Too many people," he replied flatly.

A chuckle answered him, followed by the soft creak of the planks as a shadowed figure took a seat beside him, legs mimicking Rain's in their dangling rhythm.

"After this," said the voice, "we might not see anyone again."

Rain glanced sideways at the speaker: wavy gray hair, a blood-red scarf, and a face that looked as though it had weathered a hundred storms. Holland, captain of the Washington, sat with a glass of red liquid Rain didn't recognize.

"Why do we have to go, Holland?"" Rain asked, more resigned than curious.

Holland didn't answer immediately. His gaze lingered on the submarine, the reflection of the celebration flickering in his eyes. Finally, he replied, "Because it's there."

Rain frowned. Typical. Holland's answers were always cryptic. The kind that made you think long after he was gone. Rain eyed the liquid in Holland's glass as he take a slow sip from it, trying to decipher its taste from the older man's expression. Eventually, he gave up and asked, "If it's bad, why drink it?"

Holland smirked. "It's wine. We drink it to celebrate."

Rain's frown deepened. "Celebrating sending people to their deaths? Seems morbid."

Holland took another sip of his drink before replying. "Because everyone is going to die, that's why we celebrate."

"I don't understand."

Holland tilted his glass, inspecting the crimson contents. "Because everyone dies, Rain. The difference is how you live before that. Celebrations are life's way of spiting death."

Rain looked down at the sword on his lap, the polished steel reflecting his face. "I wonder if I'll have regrets then."

Holland stood, extending the glass toward him. "That depends. Do you enjoy the taste of life enough to savor it? Or will you choke it down until you no longer hate it?" His cryptic words hung in the air, and Rain chose not to waste time unraveling their meaning.

Sliding the blade into its sheath, Rain stood and accepted the glass from Holland.

"To the abyss," Holland declared, raising his empty hand as if holding an invisible glass.

Rain hesitated, he stared at the contents in the glass for a moment before raising it high. "To the abyss," he muttered and drained it in one gulp. The bitter liquid scorched his throat, and his face twisted in distaste.. it really did taste terrible. 

"Holland! There you are!" a sharp voice called from behind. When Holland and Rain turned to look, they came face to face with a middle-aged man with short blond hair and round glasses. He was clearly displeased.

"What is it, Mister Arthur?" Holland, stepping forward, asked calmly. 

"What else could it be? How could you tell my daughter something like that? You know how dangerous traveling the sunless ocean is!" The man named Arthur looked very upset, and Holland simply sighed at his outburst. 

"This is the largest exploration ever undertaken. We have to travel through almost half of the sunless world, and the government seems to be preparing this project only for combat. I think having an expert in local history and culture on board would make the difference between success and failure."

"Is that why you went to my museum and tricked my daughter into giving you a tour?"

"I merely wanted to test the knowledge of the Under-DC Museum's curator. She impressed me immensely."

"But I already agreed to join the expedition! Isn't that enough?"

Holland narrowed his eyes slightly. "I haven't given her an invitation, nor have I decided whether she should join the expedition. In the meeting, I simply stated that her expertise would be a valuable asset for the journey. Nothing more."

"Just you saying that, my daughter's eyes lit up! By now, she probably thinks you definitely want her to come with us." The blond man spread his hands helplessly. 

Rain, silent until now, began piecing the story together. Arthur's daughter wanted to join the submarine expedition. From Holland's words, she seemed to possess considerable knowledge. Yet Arthur clearly didn't want her risking her life on such a dangerous journey.

"Isn't that a good thing?" After patiently listening for a while, Rain suddenly blurted out the question.

Both Holland and the blond man turned to look at him, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and surprise.

"How could that possibly be good? This isn't some pleasure cruise. Who would want to bring their child along on such a dangerous journey?" the blond man replied, his frustration evident.

"Because it's dangerous. If your daughter comes along, at least you'd be together the entire time," Rain said, surprising himself with how talkative he had suddenly become. He was even more surprised at how invested he felt in the blond man's story.

The blond man hesitated, his expression troubled. "That's not the point. What if the submarine sinks? Or there's an epidemic? Or we're attacked by mutated creatures? Just the thought of my daughter being in danger is unbearable."

Rain tilted his head, trying to see the situation from the perspective of the man's daughter while carefully choosing his words.

"You're probably right. No parent would willingly put their child in harm's way," Rain finally nodded in agreement.

"Exactly!" The blond man's tone was almost triumphant, as if Rain had confirmed his own thoughts.

"But…" Rain paused, meeting the man's eyes. "You should also consider the other side. No child wants to see their parent in danger either."

Arthur let out a weary sigh, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the conversation. "So, what do you think I should do, then?"

"If I were you," Rain replied evenly, "I wouldn't join the expedition. That seems like the best choice for both you and your daughter."

Though Rain wasn't entirely certain if his answer was the right one, it felt like the one he would make in Arthur's position.

The man fell silent, his gaze distant as he mulled over Rain's words. It was clear that the young boy's perspective had given him much to think about.

"Don't worry about it, Arthur. I assure you, I won't approve or invite your daughter to join our expedition without consulting you first. Instead, you should relax and enjoy the party." At last, Holland changed the subject, wrapping an arm around the pensive man's shoulders and guiding him toward the center of the pier, where tables and a stage had been set up for the festivities.

As Rain watched Holland walk away, his mind lingering on the conversation. After a moment, he decided to find a place to dispose of the empty glass in his hand and started moving in the same direction.

The Under-DC docks stretched for miles along the coast, divided into sections by fences to facilitate the unloading of cargo from ships. Each dock featured a massive crane near the edge of the water. These cranes bore large chains and hooks designed for hoisting heavy goods—or even submarines.

Rain walked past the heart of the pier, where a makeshift stage had been erected. It was the nexus of activity, the area most densely packed with people. Wooden tables were scattered haphazardly around the stage, each laden with plates of exotic dishes and glasses brimming with drinks of every imaginable hue. Small clusters of guests formed around the tables, engaged in lively conversation. The crowd was composed primarily of the elderly, all dressed in luxurious suits that gleamed under the cold industrial lights—garments far beyond anything Rain had ever encountered in his life.

Yet, amidst the elegance and opulence, a jarring presence broke the aesthetic. Scattered among the finely dressed crowd were men clad in green camouflage military uniforms, their automatic rifles slung over their shoulders. The sight of the weapons, dark and menacing, stood in stark contrast to the otherwise celebratory atmosphere. Their grim-faced vigilance was an unspoken reminder of the world outside this temporary revelry—a world still fraught with danger.

On the stage, a man in an impeccably tailored suit stood behind a podium, his voice ringing out over the gathering. His tone carried authority, and every word echoed with purpose.

"For over a century," he began, "since Chris Columbus first discovered this cavern and named it the United State of Underrica, we have toiled to transform this subterranean world into the nation it is today!" His words drew a rousing cheer from the gathered crowd.

"But for over a century," the speaker continued, his voice now laced with gravity, "we have also fought—endlessly, relentlessly. The War for Alaska in Year '36 marked the beginning of our conflict with the New Soviet Union, a war that still rages to this day. The German Gulf War, the Battle for the Saipan Archipelago—these were not just battles; they were trials of our endurance, of our will to survive. Every leader of this nation before me has faced the impossible choice: to lead our people into conflict or to stand by and watch as others trampled on our sovereignty. I do not blame them. These were decisions that could not be avoided."

He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle over the crowd like a heavy fog. The only sound that remained was the faint hum of the ocean waves, a reminder of the world beyond the cavern walls, vast and unknown.

"But not once have we truly stopped to look around and ask ourselves: how little do we actually know about this land?" The man in the suit let his words hang in the air for a moment. "This land, discovered over a century ago by Christopher Columbus, yet never fully explored."

His gaze swept over the crowd, locking eyes with as many as he could, as though challenging each of them to confront the truth of his statement.

"I, John Cornelius, the 24th President of the United State of Underrica, am honored to stand before you today. Honored to announce the launch of the First Exploration of the Sunless World. Like Columbus before us, we shall venture into the unknown. With the finest minds and bravest souls our nation can offer, aboard a state-of-the-art submarine, we will chart the uncharted and map the caverns of this vast, enigmatic realm."

He paused, his voice steady and resolute as he continued. "As you know, the submarines we rely on to traverse the oceans are relics—hand-me-downs from the Old World. For over a century, we have been unable to replicate their design, let alone build one ourselves."

"But no more!" His voice surged with triumph. "Tonight, I am proud to unveil the first submarine ever constructed within the Sunless World: the USS Washington!"

As if on cue, a powerful spotlight flared to life, illuminating the massive submarine suspended above the dock. Its obsidian hull gleamed like a predator in the darkness, casting a shadow that stretched far and wide. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, followed by an eruption of applause and cheers.

"This voyage marks the dawn of a new era! A new frontier! New resources! And perhaps even new colonies for our great nation! To the United State of Underrica!"

The crowd roared in unison, lifting their glasses high and echoing his words. The thunderous cheers reverberated through the docks, a cacophony of ambition and hope.

Rain, however, had heard enough. He slipped away from the commotion, his steps quiet as he moved toward the outskirts of the pier. The further he went, the more muted the noise became, until all he could hear was the faint rustling of the wind and the distant whisper of waves.

He wandered into the deserted fish market, its stalls now silent and empty under the veil of night. The stillness felt like a balm, soothing his frayed nerves. Eventually, he found himself standing before an old wooden bench by the water's edge, just outside a shuttered fish shop. Without a word, he sat down, staring at the dark surface of the sea as his thoughts swirled as deeply as the abyss below.

As he glanced around, he realized the view was surprisingly pleasant. The fish market, its stalls tightly packed, lined one side of the narrow road that hugged the sea. On the opposite side, a long stone-paved promenade stretched parallel to the water, bordered by a sturdy railing at its edge. Every ten meters, lampposts stood sentinel, their soft glow casting warm pools of light that extended along the walkway, disappearing into the distant shadows.

The lamplight illuminated the scene just enough for him to see the restless waves crashing against the seawall below, their ceaseless rhythm echoing up from two or three meters beneath the edge. The faint gleam of the waves spray glistened in the lamplight, briefly catching his eye before vanishing into the dark.

Rain lowered himself onto a weathered bench. Behind him loomed the muted gray silhouettes of the town, its buildings bathed in the dim, flickering light of the street lanterns. In front of him lay the endless void of the sea, a realm of sound and shadow. The gentle, persistent hiss of waves meeting stone merged seamlessly with the suffocating darkness ahead—a darkness that seemed to stretch to the very edge of the world.

He squinted, trying to pierce the abyss, but all he could discern were faint reflections of the lanterns rippling on the water's surface near the shore. Beyond that lay an expanse of pure black, a seamless veil that obscured where the cavern walls ended, where the water began, and how vast this subterranean hollow truly was. It was a void without boundaries, a reminder of how small and insignificant even the bravest explorers might be when faced with the unknown.

The Sunless Ocean was a place unlike any other. Sailing through its pitch-black expanse felt akin to drifting in a bottomless chasm, suspended between existence and oblivion. There was no wind to guide the sails, no light to navigate by—only the faint glow of lighthouses near the docks and the scattered buoys that marked the way. Even the lights aboard the ships, though present, could barely illuminate beyond the vessel's own deck, serving only to reveal its immediate surroundings.

According to the stories Rain had heard, sailors aboard surface ships often worked in near-total darkness, avoiding the use of lanterns whenever possible. Rain liked to imagine they feared something lurking in the shadows, something that could track them if it caught sight of their light.

The surface sailors and their captains often cast envious glances at Holland and Rain whenever they brought their submarine into port. They believed the depths were safer—a place where the submarine's bright interior lights shielded them from the perilous unknown above.

They couldn't have been more mistaken.

Rain sighed, his gaze fixed on the murky void ahead. He strained his eyes, searching for the faintest trace of movement—a ripple, a bubble, anything to break the stillness of the water's surface. His face felt uncomfortably warm, a sensation he attributed to the drink he'd downed earlier rather than any sudden illness.

"Ugh…" He let out another sigh, realizing he'd somehow carried the empty wine glass out of the celebration. As he stared at it, turning the smooth surface of the glass between his fingers, he pondered what to do with it.

A voice interrupted his thoughts, coming from his right.

"You've got worries of your own too, huh?"

Rain turned to find a blonde-haired girl sitting beside him. Her long, golden hair was tied into a ponytail that hung over her shoulder. She wore a yellow leather vest over a simple white shirt and a pair of black jeans—an outfit Rain thought unusual for someone her age, especially a girl.

For a moment, he simply stared, unsure whether she had spoken to him or if her words were meant for someone else. But the girl's gaze was fixed squarely on him, her eyes alight with curiosity, or perhaps mischief, as if she already knew the answer to her question.

"Just a little," Rain replied, his gaze dropping back to the glass in his hand. "I accidentally took something I shouldn't have. But when I think about returning it, I feel too lazy to bother."

"Your worries are… so shallow." the girl said, a hint of playful mockery in her tone.

"Do you have a solution, then?" Rain asked, his words casual and unhurried. Tonight, he had resolved to take advantage of his rare streak of uncharacteristic sociability, a small miracle in itself. It was all part of Holland's plan for him—to build his personality, starting with initiating at least ten conversations a day.

"Simple," she said, snatching the glass from his hand with a swift, deliberate motion. "A glass is a vessel meant to hold liquid. So, if it's empty, it's useless, right?"

When she handed the glass back, Rain noticed it was no longer empty. A familiar crimson liquid now filled it to the brim.

"Cheers!" she exclaimed, holding out an entire bottle of wine toward him. It was then that Rain noticed her face—bright red, flushed with either excitement or alcohol, he couldn't quite tell.

Rain decided not to overthink her "solution." He raised his glass and drank alongside her, while she tilted the bottle straight to her lips.

They exhaled deeply in unison as they drained their respective drinks to the last drop.

"And what's bothering you, then?" Rain asked in return, though he wasn't genuinely curious. It was just a way to keep the conversation going, a borrowed technique he'd picked up from Holland.

Her expression darkened, her face clouded with frustration. "I'm not going to be part of the Sunless World expedition."

"Why would you want to join something as dangerous as that?" Rain asked, voicing the first thought that crossed his mind.

"Because it's there," she replied, her tone resolute.

"What?"

The answer struck him like a familiar riddle, spoken from the lips of a stranger.

"I know of the tallest mountain in the Sunless World, but I've never seen it. I've heard stories of snow, but I've never touched it. I've listened to tales of legendary shipwrecks, but I've never set out to find them." As she spoke, her gaze drifted into the distance, as though piercing through the black waters to the farthest reaches of the Sunless World.

"All of it is out there, waiting for me to experience. And yet, I'm stuck here!" She finished her outburst with a cry of frustration, the sharp sound of shattering glass following soon after. Rain guessed it was the unfortunate demise of the wine bottle in her hand.

A thought clicked into place in Rain's mind—a piece of the puzzle falling into alignment.

"Ah… because it's there," he murmured to himself.

"What? What did you say?"

"Nothing," he replied, shaking his head. "Just a strange coincidence, that's all."

She let out a long sigh, throwing her arms behind her head in a resigned gesture.

"To have everything I've ever dreamed of within my grasp, only to be told I'm too young to have it."

Rain glanced at her again, studying her face. She looked about fourteen or fifteen—roughly the same age as him. Even if he thought, Well, she really is just a kid, he couldn't say it aloud without coming off as hypocritical.

Wait. A kid? With Blonde hair?

It couldn't be… could it?

As Rain's mind wandered back to the blond-haired man at the pier, he decided to voice his suspicion. "Do you even understand how terrifying crossing the Sunless Ocean really is?"

To his surprise, her face lit up, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Of course I do! The Nawal! The Giant Squid! The Nautilus! Pirate Fish! Blood Bats! Angler Spiders! Or…"

Rain froze, taken aback by the rapid-fire list she rattled off. Some of the names he recognized—creatures Holland had spoken of in passing. Others, however, were entirely unfamiliar to him. Yet he knew, without a doubt, that most of what she mentioned were very real.

What shocked him most was that the creatures she described weren't confined to a single nation's waters—they came from all corners of the Sunless World.

"…Ship lice, bomb urchins, giant anglerfish…" Rain realized that part of his astonishment stemmed not just from the bizarre names she rattled off, but from her enthusiasm and the sheer life in her voice. It was as if she adored these creatures. If she had told him these names were a list of friends she knew from school, he might have believed her.

"Who are you, really?" Rain asked, interrupting her recital of monstrous sea creatures.

"I'm the assistant curator at the museum here," she replied with a proud smile. Rain, who had no idea what a museum was, nodded as though he understood.

"And why are you so interested in this stuff?"

"Is that strange?" she asked, tilting her head as she looked at him. Rain averted his gaze for reasons he didn't fully understand. He didn't like being the center of attention to begin with, and being stared at by the opposite sex during a conversation was something he'd hardly ever experienced.

"It's strange for a girl, yeah."

"Are you some kind of sexist?" she asked, puffing her cheeks in indignation.

After a moment of avoiding her gaze, she let out a sigh, turning back to stare at the black expanse of the sea. Then, she began to speak again.

"But never mind. It's strange, I guess. Most of my friends at school are focused on finding jobs in the city or flirting with boys—things that'll help them build a family and settle down. For me, though, that's just so boring. I spend my days asking questions about this world, questions no one else cares to ask. Is the Sunless World really just one vast cavern? If Christopher Columbus came here from the Old World, then what was that world like? Was it truly filled with light, as the legends say? The more I think about it, the more pointless life feels—like I'm just a tiny speck of dust in this massive world, insignificant like everyone else…"

She inhaled deeply, leaning her head back against the bench, her eyes fixed on the pitch-black sky above.

"That's why I've decided to fight against this world. I'm determined to uncover all its secrets, to expose all its mysteries. I'm determined to see it all with my own eyes." Her voice brimmed with unshakable resolve.

"Even if you face terrifying things along the way?"

"Isn't that what makes it an adventure?" she replied without a moment's hesitation.

"Even if it means putting your life—or the lives of those you love—in danger?"

This time, she paused to think for a moment.

"One day, all of us are going to die anyway. If that's the case, I'd rather die doing what I want to do. That's the only way I'd have no regrets."

Rain froze as the girl's words sank in.

Another thought clicked into place, another piece of the puzzle solved.

Rain found himself thinking about the meaning of Holland's "celebration of death." Though Holland often spoke in riddles that Rain never bothered to unravel, he now realized that talking to the girl before him had somehow helped him understand Holland's words—even though they weren't talking about the same thing at all.

Rain stared at her for a long moment.

"W-what? Do I have something on my face or what?" she asked, clearly irritated by his rude staring.

"No… It's just another coincidence, that's all…"

"So… what do you think?"

"Well… Should I give up on the expedition? Or should I keep going?"

Rain fell silent.

Now he was sure. She was the one Holland had chosen, and that blond-haired man must have been her father.

Rain thought about Holland's words, about what the blond-haired man had said to Holland, and about the speech given by the man on the stage.

But no matter how much he thought, he couldn't find the right answer to give her. Perhaps there wasn't a right answer to begin with, or perhaps he felt unqualified to give her advice. He wasn't sure which.

"You should do whatever you won't regret later… That's what I think."

"Your answer is so… shallow," she said, her tone carrying a teasing edge yet again.

"So I won't regret my shallowness when I die," he replied.

She laughed, and it was the first time someone had laughed at anything Rain had said.

And whether it was because of the drink he'd just consumed or his astonishment at his sudden surge in social competence, Rain wasn't sure.

He looked at her, then smiled in return.

…

Rain woke to the dull throb of blood pulsing in his temples and eyes so swollen he could barely open them. He pushed himself up from the bench, realizing he had slid down and ended up sprawled against its backrest. Looking around, he noticed the electric lamps fixed high on the cavern walls were now lit, signaling the arrival of dawn.

Sitting upright, Rain realized one of his hands was still gripping a wine glass tightly. Rising to his feet, he began walking back toward the dock.

At the dock, a group of about twenty people milled around the submarine. The crane had lowered it into the water, signaling that loading operations were underway.

"Right on time," Holland greeted, looking up from his conversation with a group of workers as Rain approached.

"Anything I can help with?" Rain asked.

Holland shook his head. "Most of it's already sorted with Matthew. The supplies from the military should be handled by Commander Hector and his crew."

"So how many people are going with us?" Matthew, the assistant captain, chimed in from beside Holland.

"Fifteen from the military under Commander Hector, ten crew and engineers, and five specialists," Holland replied.

"The sub's max capacity is 30, right? Guess we'll need to keep a close eye on the weight of the other equipment," Matthew said, looking as though he had just remembered something. "By the way, if you, me, and the kid here are three of the five specialists, and the museum curator makes four… who's the fifth?"

Holland raised a hand to scratch his head. "Well… there is someone I'd like to bring along, but it's probably not going to happen. Let's just call it a free seat."

As Matthew walked off, shaking his head, Rain decided to ask Holland a question.

"She's not coming with us, is she?"

"Who are you talking about?"

"The one whose dad came and yelled at you about taking her along."

Holland gave him a strange look.

"You know, it's funny," Holland said. "Last night, you actually talked to Arthur. That's not like you at all. You usually don't care about anything. So, why do you want to know?"

Rain looked away, his gaze shifting elsewhere. "Just curious."

Holland raised one eyebrow, and for some reason, Rain felt an inexplicable urge to punch him in the face

"Cut that out already."

"What were you doing last night, anyway?" Holland asked.

"That's my business, isn't it?"

Holland didn't respond, offering only a sly smile.

"Don't worry," Holland said finally. "She'll definitely be coming. Otherwise…"

Before he could finish, both of them heard a commotion coming from the workers loading supplies near the bow of the submarine.

When Rain turned, he saw her—standing there, arguing with what looked like a commanding officer. Her blond ponytail swayed slightly with each emphatic motion as she vented her frustration.

"What do you mean, 'otherwise'?" Rain asked, his eyes fixed on the scene.

"If she doesn't come with us… we might all die."

Before Rain could glance at Holland to gauge how serious he was, Holland had already started walking toward the confrontation. Seeing this, Rain decided to follow.

"How many times do I have to tell you? This is not a field trip!" Hector's voice roared across the dock, his words echoing so loudly that even the workers nearby stopped to watch the spectacle.

Yet the girl showed no fear, no hint of intimidation. Her gaze remained locked with the commander's, filled with defiance.

"Based on my observations," she began, her tone sharp and precise, "since everyone calls you 'Commander,' and given the military uniform you're wearing, I assume you're the leader of this unit. And since you've been assigned to this mission, your role is likely to lead the military personnel on board. Therefore, logically, the ultimate authority for this mission doesn't rest with you—it should lie with the ship's captain. Am I correct?"

Judging by the already prominent set of Hector's jaw, Rain didn't need much imagination to know how tightly he was grinding his teeth.

When a brief silence followed—proof that the girl's assumption was correct—she spoke again.

"May I speak to the captain of this ship?"

At that moment, Holland and Rain pushed through the small crowd of workers gathered around the argument, arriving just as the girl finished her request. It was then that Rain noticed the blond-haired man who had been arguing with Holland at the party the night before. He stood just behind the commander.

"We meet again," Holland said.

"You're…"

"My apologies for not introducing myself earlier. I am Holland Nightfall, captain of the USS Washington."

The girl looked momentarily confused.

"But you're the one who visited the museum yesterday… why? If you're really the captain, then you've sailed the Sunless Ocean before. You'd already know the answers to everything you asked me during the tour."

"The president personally selected your father as the expedition's historical expert. When I found out he owned the museum, I decided to test his knowledge. It just didn't go as planned because the person I met that day was you instead."

"And what were the results of this test?" the girl asked, swallowing hard as she focused intently on Holland's response.

"You knew everything there was to know about navigating the Sunless Ocean—every essential fact and even the smallest details. You drew maps and predicted territories with such precision that it felt like you'd been there yourself. Your historical knowledge is unparalleled—more detailed than anything I've ever seen." Holland paused briefly. "I still stand by my claim that you are an indispensable asset for this expedition."

The girl's eyes lit up with hope. "T-then…"

"No way."

At that moment, the girl's father stepped out from the surrounding crowd, moving to stand directly in front of her.

"I won't allow you to go. Not a chance," her father said firmly.

The girl stared at her father for a long moment.

"Stop treating me like a child," she said.

"It's because you're my daughter that I can't let you go. It's too dangerous," he replied.

She lowered her gaze and spoke in a quiet, trembling voice.

"Stop lying."

"W-what?" her father stammered.

"If you really cared about me, have you ever thought about what would happen to me if you didn't come back? How I'd feel?" she asked, her voice trembling with suppressed anger.

"I'd have to wait for you forever. And one day—maybe ten years, or twenty—I'd have to accept the truth that you're gone. Until that day comes, do you really think I could live happily?"

The blond-haired man buried his face in his hands, gripping his head as though trying to contain his thoughts.

"What do you expect me to do? The president himself asked me to do this! I have to serve my country!" he shouted.

"Liar!" she screamed, her voice exploding from a soft murmur to a deafening roar that echoed through the cavern like cannon fire.

She looked up, and while her expression remained composed, Rain could see the pain in her eyes and the tears trailing down her cheeks.

"If you really cared about me, you would have refused. But instead, you accepted the president's request and chose to leave me behind. 'Serving your country'? That's just an excuse." She lowered her head, using her sleeve to wipe her eyes.

"I'm your daughter. I know you. You love the same things I do. Even though we sometimes disagree, we've always enjoyed solving mysteries together. And even when we argue, we always accept the truth in the end."

When she raised her head again, her face was free of tears and any trace of surrender.

"We both love this world… A world that's dangerous yet full of wonder. A world that's bleak but brimming with mysteries waiting to be unraveled. A world cloaked in darkness yet teeming with astonishing stories."

"Esther…" Her father's voice trembled as he searched for the right words.

"This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance for me to see the world with my own eyes—not just from maps. So please… let me work with you to solve the greatest mystery of our lives, together."

The entire dock fell silent in anticipation. Even Rain found himself waiting with bated breath.

Her father removed his round glasses, his shoulders trembling as he sniffed deeply.

"If something happened to you… what would I do…"

The girl looked into her father's eyes and smiled.

"If one of us dies first… the other has to promise to solve the mystery of the Moonlight Sonata. Deal?" she said, holding out her pinky finger.

Her father seemed stunned. Rain, too, stood frozen amid the stillness.

"No way," her father finally said.

But just as the girl's face began to fall, her father continued, "I'll be the one to solve it first!" He crouched down and pulled her into a tight hug.

Rain let out a deep sigh, and the docks erupted into a cacophony of cheers, shouts, and applause. Crew members, soldiers, and workers alike all celebrated the scene they had just witnessed, their voices filling the cavern.

As the father and daughter stood there, glancing around in a mix of surprise and embarrassment, Hector bellowed above the noise.

"Don't you people have jobs to do? Get back to work, or I'll tie you to the hull of the submarine myself!"

The crowd scattered like a swarm of startled bees, each person rushing back to their tasks. Left behind were only the father and daughter, Hector, Holland, and Rain.

"So, it's settled then?" Holland asked.

"Y-yes. If it's not too much trouble… I'd like to bring my daughter along as an assistant for the expedition," the blond-haired man said, scratching his head awkwardly, still flustered from earlier.

"Hmph. Bringing a kid is already a nuisance," Hector muttered with a snort.

"Make sure she pulls her weight. If I even suspect she's a burden, I'll toss her overboard myself," he growled, pointing two fingers at his eyes and then toward the blonde girl before walking away. She, in turn, raised a single obscene finger at his retreating back.

Holland turned back to the pair. "I have no objections, as long as she understands how dangerous and difficult this journey will be."

The girl stepped away from her father and faced Holland directly. "I understand."

"You understand that we'll be living in a confined metal tube underwater for months at a time?"

"I do."

"You understand this is not a sightseeing trip? Everyone on board has their own job, and they must perform it to the best of their ability without question?"

"Yes, sir."

"You understand that this is a dangerous mission, one where not everyone will make it home—and that you may witness death firsthand?"

She took a deep breath and nodded firmly.

"Good." Holland nodded in approval, his voice as resolute as hers. "Welcome aboard the USS Washington, Esther."