The shadows beneath the looming buildings reach out hungrily, eager to ensnare Elias as he bolts through the dimly lit alleyways. Inky appendages with long sinewy arms creep up from the ground, slithering beneath parked cars and lurking beneath benches. His heart pounds in his chest as he darts to the side, narrowly evading a police car.
A mysterious figure follows him, a man with deathly pale skiing concealed beneath a shroud of dark clothing. His eyes are vacant, lifeless orbs that gleam eerily in the low light. The staccato clacking of his boots echoes just ahead of Elias at every hairpin turn.
Above an ominous drone swoops down, casting its mechanical shadow over the chase. Elias forces all the light into his feet. Focusing the full power into speed. The street is a blur before him. He dodges people with a hair's breadth to spare. Yet the man is there still. He isn’t running, he strolls with an unsettling calmness, cold dead eyes locked onto Elias.
The man never leaves the shadows, and the hands only stretch so far from the blanket of darkness the buildings provide, so Elias keeps his distance. Elias can smell the noxious stench of decay and rotten filth that clings to the man’s presence. Smoke rises from the man’s clothes when the pale man reaches out from the shadow, Elias leaps to his right, narrowly evading his grasp.
He can’t come out into the sun. Elias thinks to himself. But how is he getting from one building to the other so quickly? Elias turns his head to look forward and plants his foot as hard as he can. A bridge looms ahead. He is hurtling toward it, about to plunge under its shadow. His boots scorch against the pavement as he skids forward. The acrid scent of burning rubber fills the air.
He is nearly pitched forward on his face to skid into the darkness headfirst. He skip-steps and plants his feet harder pulsing the light down through his feet into the ground. From the shadowy abyss, bony hands emerge, straining to seize him. The pale man steps out from within a concrete pillar seemingly materializing from nowhere.
The pale man opens his mouth wide, and his jaw cracks and lowers like the mouth of a snake adjusting for large prey. His arms are open wide ready to snatch Elias from the sunlight. Elias screams and finally stops. The drone overhead smacks into the bridge overhead and crashes down in pieces between Elias and the couple feet of the light-soaked street before the shadow.
“Announcement, Announcement.”
Elias clamps his hands over his ears, the piercing alarms drowning out the world. The pale man cracks his jaw back into place and glares out at him. His eyes are dull and lifeless. Elias gulps in a breath. His heart pounds in his ears and he is barely able to discern the announcement as his gaze is locked on the sinister figure in the shadows. The pale man looks out from the shadow toward the sun and a chilling grin twists his lips before he retreats into the pillar of concrete.
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“Attention, brave souls of the ship! As we stand on the precipice of a pivotal moment in the history of our floating city, I beseech your courage and undying spirit, gather ‘round and lend your ears to the words that shall ignite the flickering flame of hope within your hearts.
Our beloved Terre Goth faces an imminent peril– the encroaching sea relentlessly swallows the land that once flourished beneath the sun’s warm embrace. The Triad mountains, those majestic yet foreboding peaks that pierce the never-ending sea, hold the key to our salvation. It is there that we shall find the answers we seek, the path to a brighter future.
But such a journey demands sacrifices–those among us who are willing to embrace a destiny of courage, resilience, and unwavering determination. Today, I call upon the valiant souls who shall embark on a voyage of immeasurable importance–to board the Skipper and journey to the Triad mountains, facing the unknown with unwavering resolve.
Know that this mission is not without risk. The Triads are teaming with creatures of unfathomable ferocity, monstrous beings born of isolation, and the perpetual twilight that engulfs the peaks. Yet it is precisely in the face of such adversity that the true heroes among us are forged.
Those who embark on this perilous expedition will be celebrated as the saviors of our city, as beacons of hope in this dim-lit world. The fate of Terre Goth, and the lives of all who call it home, rest upon the shoulders of the chosen few. It is a daunting responsibility, but one that will forever etch your name into the annals of our history.
Do not be dissuaded by fear, for within each of you resides the strength to endure, the spirit to overcome, and the heart to triumph. Together we shall unveil the secrets of the Triads, unravel the mysteries that have eluded us, and secure a future worthy of our dreams.
So, I implore you, step forward, heroes of Terre Goth! Let your valor shine forth and cast aside the shackles of doubt. Volunteer to board the Skipper, face the Triads head-on and pave the way for a new dawn. May your resolve be unwavering, your spirit unyielding, and your hearts filled with the belief that together, we can conquer the unknown.
The fate of Terre Goth hangs in the balance, and it is you, courageous souls, who will guide us toward salvation. The Triads await, and so do the legends that will be written in your honor. Let your names echo through the ages, as the saviors of our floating city…”
Galadriel’s face disappears from the overhead display, replaced by a destination marker pointing to the North Docks. An hour-timer ticks down to the side of the map of Terre Goth. One hour. On the sunset side of the ship. It’s the last bastion of sunlight on the ship.
Elias isn’t driven by honor, courage, or the allure of glory. He isn’t moved to tears by Galadriel’s impassioned speech. No, the most primal instincts guides him–survival.
The creature that pursues him is in Terre Goth. A tangible entity with supernatural abilities. The Catamaran is standing in the water, bathed in the life-giving sunlight. That is Elias’ sole motivation, the driving force that pushes him forward. He begins to run, his inner light dwindling but still flickering inside. He’s convinced he can reach the North Docks in under an hour. He has to.