Chapter 21: The Storm's Aftermath

Lucien's eyes locked on Selene's figure, standing at the edge of the ship like some spectral force, her mask reflecting the faint glow of the setting sun. Her stance was poised, as if she had been waiting for this moment all along.

"Selene," Lucien said, his voice steadier than he felt, "what the hell do you want now?"

Selene took a slow, deliberate step forward, the sound of her boots scraping against the metal deck ringing in the tense silence. Her eyes, hidden behind her mask, gleamed with a cold intensity.

"The artifact," she said, her voice quiet but unwavering. "It's calling to you. It always has. But you don't understand what you've unleashed."

The crew remained at a distance, watching with a mix of wariness and concern. Lucien's fingers tightened around the artifact, its pulse still faint but steady. He could feel its pull, like a whisper in his mind, urging him to listen, to understand.

"You're wrong, Selene," Lucien snapped, his temper rising. "We've barely survived that thing—whatever it was. The artifact saved us, didn't it?"

Selene tilted her head slightly, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile. "Saved you? Or did it trap you?"

Lucien's stomach churned at her words. Could she be right? Was the artifact truly something more sinister than he had imagined? He shook his head, trying to shake off the doubts gnawing at him.

"You don't have a clue what you're talking about." Lucien's voice was firm, but a part of him couldn't help but feel the weight of her words. Was she right? The artifact had done something—he could feel its power, but was it truly saving them, or was it binding them to something far darker?

Selene's expression softened, almost as if she pitied him. "Lucien, the artifact is a key. A key that could either save the world—or destroy it. You don't know what it's capable of. But I do. And I won't let you become its puppet."

Lucien's mind raced. "Then what do you want from me?"

"I want you to stop using it. To stop feeding it. It's not something you control. It controls you."

For the briefest moment, Lucien saw a flicker of something beneath Selene's cold exterior—a vulnerability, a fear even. But before he could process it, she turned, her voice hardening once more.

"You've already crossed a line, Lucien. I've been watching you, and I've seen the changes in you. You're becoming something else. And if you don't stop now, it'll be too late for all of us."

He didn't respond right away, his thoughts in turmoil. He had always trusted his instincts, always relied on his wit and improvisation to guide him through the chaos of this dangerous world. But this—this was different. The artifact was beyond his understanding, and Selene's warning had struck a chord he couldn't ignore.

"Maybe you're right," Lucien said, his voice low, almost reluctant. "But I'm not giving it up. Not without answers. And I'll get them—whether you help me or not."

The tension in the air thickened, but before Selene could retort, Marion's voice broke through, firm and resolute.

"Enough, both of you."

Lucien and Selene turned to face the noblewoman-turned-thief, who had stepped forward, her posture defiant and unyielding. "We've got bigger problems than bickering over the artifact. If we don't find a way to stop whatever's coming next, we'll all be dead anyway."

Rosie grinned, though it was a strained expression. "Yeah, I'd rather not be dead just yet."

Professor Valeria, looking more excited than ever, added, "And who knows what else this artifact can do? I bet it can turn a good glass of bourbon into something better!"

Lucien couldn't help but chuckle at Valeria's strange enthusiasm, though the weight of the situation still pressed down on him.

"We need to focus," Lucien said, his tone more determined now. "Whatever's going on with this artifact, it's tied to something bigger. Something dangerous. And I'm not letting it destroy us."

Selene narrowed her eyes but said nothing more, the mask hiding whatever thoughts were running through her mind. She had her own motives—he could see it in the way she moved, the way she always seemed to be playing her own game. But for now, they needed to focus on survival.

"Agreed," Marion said, her voice calm but commanding. "The artifact may be a key, but the bigger question is what the hell is it opening?"

The crew exchanged uneasy glances, but for the first time in a while, they were united in their determination.

Suddenly, the ship lurched, and the whole crew was thrown off balance. Lucien barely managed to keep his footing, eyes widening as he looked up to see a new threat looming ahead—one far more terrifying than the mechanical beast they had just escaped.

A massive airship, far larger than the Storm Reaper, cut through the sky with unnerving speed. Its dark silhouette seemed to absorb the light around it, its sleek hull adorned with sharp, angular edges. But it wasn't just the ship itself that made Lucien's blood run cold. It was the flag fluttering from the mast—black with a crimson emblem, a twisted symbol of a hand gripping a heart.

"The Crimson Hand," Lucien muttered under his breath, a cold realization settling in.

The airship was bearing down on them fast, and Lucien could already see movement on its deck—figures clad in dark uniforms, their weapons trained on the Storm Reaper.

"Brace for impact!" Lucien shouted, his voice sharp.

The crew scrambled, each person rushing to their stations, but Lucien couldn't shake the feeling of inevitability. This was no coincidence. The Crimson Hand had been hunting him, and now they were closing in.

"This isn't just about the artifact," Lucien muttered, his grip tightening around the wheel. "It's about everything."

As the massive ship drew closer, Lucien knew one thing for certain: the game had changed, and they were all players now. And in this game, the stakes were higher than ever.