Those Who Voyage Far

Within a dense fog that seemed as tangible as some viscous fluid, Sea Song's white hull moved like a ghost, as if it might vanish into this boundless mist at any moment.

At some point, the roar of the steam core had turned into a strange, low moan layered with overlapping echoes. Sharp shrieks occasionally came from the pipe chambers, mingled with murmurs like the sleep-talking of a human voice.

"The machines are becoming possessed..." The Technical Priest returned from the engine room and reported to the captain on the bridge. "The calming incense is becoming less and less effective."

"Disconnect the Difference Engine's drive shaft. Switch all machinery to manual operation. Vent the steam core down to the yellow zone—replace the boiling-gold catalyst in two hours," the captain said calmly. "Shorten engine room rotations to once every three hours."

"Yes, Captain." The Technical Priest lowered his head. For one brief instant, his voice became especially hoarse and deep, as though a great hole had opened in his chest and uncontrolled air was blowing from his lungs. Yet no one seemed to notice—he departed, while the stern-faced female captain watched his retreating back before looking away.

Out of the corner of her eye, she suddenly saw a patch of mottled rust appear on the railing beside the captain's seat. The rust slowly spread, as though time were racing past and the years were dissolving away.

But the next second, the rust vanished from sight like an illusion. She froze, and before she could react, a low, blurred voice arose in her mind—a familiar yet bone-chilling voice whispering to her:

"Ah... you've come... my little fish... swim, swim... return to the current..."

The gentle sound of waves echoed by her ears, while an icy sensation, as though she were submerged in