So it had turned out that the galley chest could indeed give out near-infinite food, but apparently, it only did so during so-called “business hours.”

During all other hours, it was a ravenous, blood-thirsty monster.

Because there had to be a catch with just about everything down here.

Esau had tossed it a massive turkey bone. It had opened wide to devour it voraciously and revoltingly, spittle flying about. “I figure it has to get its fuel from somewhere,” Esau had said. “Hellish recycling!”

He’d also said that Lucian had been the one to figure out how the chest worked. But a hungry, lonely man on a strange pirate ship who lacked this knowledge, approaching the chest at the wrong time, would more likely than not end up dead. And if he did survive such an encounter, what kind of madman would try again at a later time?

Esau had offered to show Kane what the chest was like during the time slots that food was available the next day, cautioning that it wouldn’t straight-up offer him tortilla chips, but at least it wouldn’t try to eat him this time. Kane said he’d sleep on it.

But he wasn’t going to sleep just yet, not before his ominous, enigmatic meeting with Lucian. Quite frankly, he was rather excited about it. A one-on-one with the most knowledgeable person on board — a real opportunity to finally get some goddamn answers.

Because, although he could pretend everything was nice and dandy, and distract himself with stupid banter and mediocre alcohol, he could only pretend so much. He was half-expecting to wake up in a cold sweat once he put his head down onto the hammock pillow tonight, hyperventilating in his real life bed after experiencing such a vivid nightmare. But some part of this not only felt real, but made sense, in a strange sort of way.

It was more so a subconscious feeling. Typically, Kane was the type to trust his gut (because trusting his brain failed him often), and he’d never had a gut feeling this strong before. This one screamed you’re in Hell, you fucked up, and you need to find a way to leave.

Believe me, I’m working on it.

Well, was he? He didn’t really have much agency or freedom in all of this so far. All he could do was hope that Lucian wasn’t insane, that the captain actually had a heading, that he himself didn’t die before getting to the “center of the realm”, that the ship didn’t sink, that none of the crewmates would snap and kill him, that…

That… wow. That was a lot of assumptions.

So yeah, the situation was sorta dire. Kane had somehow been sent to Hell, and was now playing against the odds in a battle for survival, with escape being the best case scenario, and… death being the worst? He wasn’t quite sure.

Could he die if he was already in Hell? And if so… then what? Kane had never really put much thought towards an afterlife while he’d been living, but at best he’d expected oblivion and at worst, lots of really hot fire everywhere. But his current reality was some sort of third option, and it unsettled him much more than the other two. Does everyone have to go through this when they die? Or are we just the unfortunate few?

As he made his way towards the captain’s chambers, he found himself fidgeting. He was clenching and unclenching his fists, brushing his fingers past each other, tapping them on the sides of his thighs.

In one smooth motion, he shoved them into his pockets.

Stay calm, Kane. Calm people don’t fidget. Lucian doesn’t fidget. What will he think when he sees you doing so?

He picked up the pace. This was the only alone time he’d had so far on the ship, and apparently the first thing his brain figured it had to do was attack him. But could he blame anyone for being nervous in a position like his?

Yet some part of Kane bristled at the thought of being nervous about this. Kane knew he’d been a nervous wreck in life — and with good reason, given his circumstances. Based on the inklings of memory he’d recovered thus far, as well as general vibes, he could tell he’d been the type of guy life had chosen to kick while he was down. And at the moment, it looked like more of the same.

But then again, why should his life dictate what happened now? Technically — probably? — he wasn’t living. If he was dead, then that meant that, in an odd sense, he’d been gifted a new beginning.

Kane stopped for a second, in the room just before Lucian’s chambers, and leaned against a spot on the wall between two lanterns. He’d hated his life. Perhaps that’s why he hadn’t really had a massive outburst when he’d arrived here. He imagined most normal people would break into tears, fly into a fit of rage, or kill themselves in an attempt to wake up.

But Kane had mostly taken it in stride. Sure, he was cynical and frustrated and wary — again, all with good reason — but for the most part, he’d already accepted it all. In some way, things down here weren’t even as bad as they’d been on Earth.

It was a shocking realization for Kane to make, and he chuckled at the thought. Maybe it’s good that I’m down here.

He would finally be able to get that fresh start.

The details of his life were still very foggy, but he’d gotten the gist. Ceaseless stress, awful luck, dismal decision-making, and shitty people all seemed to have been constants during his time on Earth. And once the trouble had started, it continued to perpetuate itself; Kane had never been able to break out of the whole song and dance.

So he figured he’d simply have to ensure that the opposite happened this time around. Let’s see… Endless pleasure, good fortune, smart choices, and good friends.

He looked around at the space he was in — grayscale, dimly lit in crimson pockets, and decorated in a spartan yet gaudy manner with bookshelves, hard chairs, and several candles. The ship itself rocked in a gentle motion that Kane was already starting to get used to. Those things might be hard to accomplish in a place like this, he thought.

But then he shrugged. It didn’t matter — it couldn’t matter. This was the exact mindset that had allowed him to be walked all over in life, and there would be no better point in time than right now, when he was dazed and ruminative and malleable, for him to make a 180.

In that case… I’ll make it work. He’d thought it like it was easy. Hm… the people here are… interesting. Pleasure is… possible. Good fortune is… something I’ll figure out eventually.

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And the smart choices part? He’d start with this meeting with Lucian. Despite the needless mystery surrounding it, it really did seem like a good first move.

Ask the right questions, ensure you gather all the need-to-know info. And hell, maybe ask him where he got that majestic hat of his.

Kane physically flinched. He didn’t know why he was so obsessed with the captain’s tricorne hat. Perhaps it was enchanted or some bullshit like that, allowing him to lead the crew with some subtle form of mind control. Or perhaps Kane wanted to hide his mess of dark hair, which obviously hadn’t been brushed or combed or cleaned at any point in the recent past.

Or maybe he was just plain jealous.

Kane had subtly picked up on it. By some cursed coincidence, Lucian seemed to be everything that Kane hadn’t been in life. Calm and collected. Charismatic. In charge of his own destiny. Intelligent. And jovial to boot.

Some part of Kane itched whenever he was near the guy, although he’d resisted looking into it the topic further and had thus mostly been able to ignore it. But now that he thought about it…

A part of him that wanted to rob Lucian blind of everything he owned.

Kane inhaled and exhaled. Surprisingly, that was the darkest thought he’d had down here. And he planned on keeping it to himself for a very long time. Sure, it was good to take a breath and let yourself know how you really felt, but that by no means meant you had to act on your sentiments or share them with others.

Enough procrastinating. Kane was about to step towards the door when he realized he was fidgeting again. When had his hands even left his pockets?

He shook his head, pushing off the wall, only for the door to open by itself.

The déjà vu only lasted a moment. Lucian raised a finger to his lips in a silent command to stay quiet, and Kane acquiesced as the captain slowly shut the door behind him, the sound of Tal’s snores escaping through the fast-shrinking gap. Kane had heard the snores through the paper-thin walls of their shared quarters; he suddenly felt grateful that he’d be sleeping on the other end of the ship.

“We’ll talk here,” Lucian said once he’d shut the door, moving to take a seat in the armchair to the side. He placed a candle onto the tea table in front of it, then gestured for Kane to sit in the armchair just across from him.

The man was still dressed in the same clothing as earlier, and Kane asked himself if it could truly be comfortable to wear for as long as he had. Yet Lucian didn’t show the slightest sign of discomfort on his face — rather, his expression was a bit too comfortable, almost tired in the sense of being jaded rather than experiencing actual fatigue. Perhaps Esau had lied, and Lucian had had this conversation before.

Kane did notice, however, that the man wasn’t wearing his hat, his large black curls sitting comfortably and cleanly on his head. Apparently, Lucian didn’t need the hat to hide his hair — he managed to make both looks work. Kane kept from cussing under his breath in envy.

Additionally, that aura of power that had struck Kane when he’d first met Lucian several hours ago was back again. Back then, Kane had attributed the feeling to sea sickness or general malaise due to his location, but he absolutely felt it now, coming from Lucian himself, tugging on a sixth sense and warning Kane to make his next choices wisely.

No problem — he just had to relax. So he sat, with the small amount of liquor that was still affecting him causing him to drop down between the comfortable cushions in one smooth, languid motion, he waited for Lucian to speak first. But Lucian didn’t make a move, one ankle cross over the other leg’s knee, his knuckles gently pressed to his mouth, and he watched him, clearly expecting the opposite.

Sure. I’ll make the first move, I guess. “You’re not gonna kill me, are you?”

Lucian simply tilted his head, raising a brow. “Should I?”

Kane paused. “Not sure, honestly.”

The captain nodded slowly, as if Kane’s words had allowed him to come to some sort of interesting conclusion. “Mm-hmm. Well, if you’d like, I’ll hold off on doing so for now. My treat.” He narrowed his eyes at the man, looking Kane up and down, but his signature smirk didn’t show up to complete the gaze. “You clearly have questions on your mind. What I want you to do now is ask your biggest, most prominent one. The one you must get an answer to, right now.”

Now it was Kane’s turn to raise a brow. “Why?”

Lucian simply shook his head. “‘Why’ isn’t the question you want to be asking right now.”

It was true. But it was still a lot for Lucian to put on him all at once. Although Kane had been eager to ask questions, Lucian’s demeanor made it seem like he’d only be willing to answer one of them. And Kane didn’t exactly have the leverage in this situation to work towards a higher number.

So he’d play by the rules. One question he had to know the answer to. For some reason, Lucian seemed to be rather confident that he’d be able to answer anything Kane threw at him. But Kane was willing to push further, perhaps get to the bottom of—

“Where’d you get your hat?”

Silence.

Bewildered, baffled silence.

Kane kept from slapping a hand over his mouth. He was stunned at what he’d said, but acting embarrassed afterwards would only exacerbate the problem he’d created less than than a minute into their conversation.

Where the FUCK did that come from? He’d like to say it was the alcohol still in his system, and that had likely paid a part, but Kane knew the truth. Apparently, this stupid hat was occupying all of his headspace right now. He could have asked any variety of question. ‘How did you get here?’ ‘How do we leave?’ ‘How long have you been here?’ ‘Why are we here and not in the other place? I mean, I wasn’t that bad during my life, right? Haha, right?’

But Kane had gone and wasted it all on a vapid question that was equivalent to asking a teenage boy where he’d gotten his kicks. And now he had no choice but to sit still and face the music, said “music” being the mental upbraiding he’d be giving himself while Lucian spoke.

And Lucian did speak, but not before fixing Kane with a stare unlike any Kane had seen from him before. It wasn’t the trademark prideful smirk. Nor was it a mildly curious tilt of the head, or even a distasteful frown.

No, this was a look of pure, unbridled… calculation?

His brows were knitted, his hazel eyes sharp as daggers, the edges of his mouth slightly downturned. And in that moment, for the first time since meeting the captain, Kane felt naked.

The look had only flickered over his face, lasting less than half a second, but Kane had caught it and couldn’t help but commit it to memory. The captain pursed his lips, his nonchalant air returning as if it had never left.

“It was in the ship.” He paused, as if he were about to stop there, mouth twisting like a cheeky genie, but then he opted to continue. “When I first arrived in Limbo, I woke up in the Sea, barely afloat, half-drowned. As if someone had dropped me from the sky. I saw a ship — this ship — about a half-mile away, and with nothing else in sight, I did the only thing I could: I swam.

“I climbed up the Marauder’s hull, nearly getting swept away by the waves of blood a couple of times, but you know, no biggie.” He grinned as he said this. “Once I got on, I essentially found the ship similar to how it is now. Except that it was completely abandoned. The topside was covered in scattered debris, while the interior was a veritable disaster, as if a ferocious hurricane had blasted right through it.”

Lucian met Kane’s gaze, as if to check that he was still listening. “So I got to surviving. I figured out how to steer the ship. Cleaned up a bit. Cooked up some meals. Found some fun clothing that wasn’t blood-stained as all hell in the captain’s closet. Even dove into some literature.” Lucian gestured around them; the room they were in had the most books out of any room on board. “Kept me busy. Kept me sane.

“Sometimes, Tal asks me how long I’d been on the ship before he arrived. I give him a different number every time. It’s not because I’m trying to be facetious.” He looked down to the candle on the table between them, the red light painting his face dark, muted tones. “It’s because I’d lost count.”