Rio woke up in a hospital bed—but he wasn’t in a hospital. The steady hum of engines and the faint rocking beneath him told him he was on a ship. Memories of the storm and the distant lights of a vessel rushed back to him.

Panicked, Rio tried to move, but his body felt too weak. He reached around blindly, searching for Timmy.

Timmy wasn’t there.

"Timmy!" Rio cried, forcing himself upright despite the pain.

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A stranger—likely the ship’s medic—turned toward him. “General, he’s awake.”

A familiar voice answered—the same voice that had screamed his name in the storm. Moments later, a figure appeared beside his bed, pressing him gently back down. It was Arnoll’s father.

“You need to rest, Rio,” he said firmly. “We’re heading to the mainland to get you to a hospital. Timmy is safe. Don’t worry.”

Rio’s breath caught in his throat. He was safe. The nightmare was over.

But Arnoll was gone.

Tears welled up in his eyes. The medic handed him something—a small cup of medicine. Too exhausted to resist, Rio swallowed it.

Darkness took him once more.