CHAPTER 50: CHAPTER 50: THE HIDDEN VARIABLE(2)

Offshore Vessel - 5:17 PM

Yoo waited until the guards’ shift change.

Two new guards entered, the old ones left. Four minutes of exchange where everyone was slightly distracted with procedures briefings and handoffs.

Four minutes.

He stood and walked to the sink, the two new guards watched but didn’t stop him, just a prisoner getting water, nothing could go wrong.

Yoo turned the tap, the water gushed out—brown at first, then clear.

He drank, and allowed it to continue running

Then dropped the pen into the drain.

The plastic lodged in the pipe, The water backed up immediately, started filling the basin.

Gurgle... gurgle...

"Hey." The first guard frowned. "What’s wrong with the sink?"

"Clogged, I think." Yoo stepped back. "Not my problem."

The guard approached, looked at the rising water. "Shit. This drainage connects to—"

He didn’t finish.

An alarm SCREAMED through the vessel — WEE-OO WEE-OO! Red lights flashed.

Both guards grabbed their communicators.

"What’s happening?"

Static. Then a voice: "—generator overheating! All hands to engine room! Repeat, all hands—"

The guards looked at each other, one looked at the door, the other looked at Yoo

"Stay here," the first guard barked. "Don’t move."

They ran.

The door slammed shut.

Yoo counted to five, then moved.

The pen in the drain had worked faster than expected, the generator must have been more stressed than Akasha Archive calculated. The cooling system failure came early.

He didn’t have time to waste.

He grabbed the chair—bolted to the floor but the bolts were old, rusted, he wrenched hard as the pain shot through his broken fingers. The chair groaned, the metal scraped

.

One bolt snapped, then another.

The chair came free.

Yoo swung it at the porthole the glass cracked but didn’t break, reinforced.

He swung again, again.

On the fourth hit, the glass spiderwebbed.

Fifth hit—CRASH!

The Glass shattered, salty air rushed in while the sound of waves roared. Distance to water: maybe three meters.

Yoo looked at the ocean, cold and Grey, to top it up he was a terrible swimmer.

Escape probability if I jump: 2%.

Probability if I stay: 0%.

Easy choice.

He grabbed a piece of broken glass, wrapped it in torn fabric from his shirt used it to make a crude knife.

Then went to the door.

Outside, rushed shouts and heavy footsteps pounding, in the midst of the chaos, the generator alarm was still screaming.

Yoo pressed his ear against the door and listened

Akasha Archive, track movement patterns.

"Analyzing... majority of crew diverted to engine room. Corridor outside: minimal personnel. Detecting two signatures, moving away."

Now or never.

Yoo gripped his makeshift knife and opened the door.

The corridor was narrow. Pipes running over the metal walls. Emergency lights bathed everything red.

Two crew members ran past and didn’t see him, too focused on the emergency.

Yoo moved the opposite direction. Away from the engine room. Toward—what? He didn’t know the ship’s layout.

Find Subject 31’s holding location, or find communications, send a message but subject 31 obviously doesn’t have any communication devices.

He passed doors, storage, bathroom and crew quarters.

Then voices ahead started getting closer.

Yoo ducked into a side room, a dark place that had oily smell, storage closet maybe.

He pressed against the wall, his breadth shallow

Footsteps thundered past.

"—kid’s probably still locked up—"

"We have to check anyway, the Director wants all prisoners accounted for during emergencies—"

They passed.

Yoo waited ten heartbeats, then emerged.

The corridor split ahead leaving two options, left or right?

Akasha Archive, probability analysis.

"Insufficient data for optimal path. Recommend: explore until finding critical systems or additional prisoners."

Left felt right, any random choice would do

Yoo went left.

The corridor opened into a larger space. Loading bay? Cargo area? Metal crates stacked high, chains hanging from ceiling, the ceiling here was higher—double the normal clearance.

And in the corner stood another door, marked:

AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY – DETENTION LEVEL

More prisoners, subj 31 should be there

Yoo approached the door, locked, keycard reader won’t go through without authorization.

Unless—

He looked up at the chains, ceiling ventilation and old vessels like this had crawl spaces between decks for maintenance.

Can I fit?

Only one way to find out.

Yoo climbed onto a crate, reached for the chain he ignored his broken fingers as they screamed, he pulled himself up.

The chain swung. His body weight made it creak. Clink-clink-clink as links rubbed together.

He reached the vent, metal grating with old and rusty screws

He pried the screws using his glass knife, one came loose, after some more prying the remaining two came loose too.

The grating came free.

Dark shaft beyond, barely wide enough for his shoulders.

Yoo climbed in.

Detention Level - Same Time

Subject 31 sat in the dark, listening to alarms.

Something was wrong, It seems there is an emergency situation on the ship, with the crew responding quickly.

An Opportunity.

She was fifteen years old. Lee Ji-yeon before the seed integration, former military family—her father was Silver 45, her mother Gold 33, both of both dead now from monster attack, she’d been alone for three years.

Then the seed came. Dark Series—Shadow lineage, it let her disappear, not fully invisibly, more like... unnoticed, people looked past her forgot she was there even as they are looking.

It’s how she’d stayed hidden for three days when other recipients were getting captured.

But Crucible found her yesterday using some kind of tracking ritual, no amount of hiding worked against that.

Now she was here on this ship waiting to be a ritual sacrifice.

The alarm wailed.

Ji-yeon stood, tested the door obviously locked, but the lock was electronic, and electronics needed power.

She pressed her hand against the wall, she felt the hum of electricity. The ship’s power grid ran through everything.

Her seed was Dark Series, darkness wasn’t just absence of light, it was absence, Of.. Of... I don’t know.

She focused.

Her hand went cold. Black tendrils leaked from her fingers. Not visible—just... there. Reality bent around them.

The tendrils touched the electronic lock.

Spark—Fzzzt!

The lock died.

Ji-yeon pulled the door open.

Corridor outside, empty with veryone dealing with the generator emergency.

She stepped out. Started moving. Away from the noise. Toward—

Something moved in the vent above.

Ji-yeon froze, looked up.

She cursed, "looks like I’ve been caught"

A grating pushed open, the boy dropped down, small, about eight years old in appearance. Blood on his clothes, wrecked fingers holding a shard of glass wrapped in fabric.

He landed in a crouch, saw her and tensed

They stared at each other.

"Subject 47?" Ji-yeon asked.

"Subject 31?"

"Yeah."

"We need to leave now." Yoo stood. "Can you swim?"

"Not well."

"Me neither, but staying here means ritual sacrifice." He gestured at the corridor. "There’s a cargo bay, maybe lifeboats, maybe something we can use."

"The crew—"

"Is busy with the generator emergency, we have maybe ten minutes before they restore control." His eyes were strange, intense with different colors "Move or die, choose."

Ji-yeon chose.

They ran.

Behind them, deeper in the ship, voices shouted.

Someone had discovered the empty cells.

The hunt was on.