Experimental Ship
Wen Yu lay on his bed, staring into the darkness. His ears twitched, straining to catch the faint singing drifting through the silence.
He had no idea where the song came from. But it was the only thing that could ease the restlessness in his heart.
Wen Yu had always known he was an experimental subject. From birth, he was treated as nothing more than a tool. No one ever discussed it in front of him, but everyone around him understood. To them, Wen Yu was not a person. He was a weapon.
And now, this weapon was damaged. Replaceable.
So they sent him to the experimental ship.
Its mission was to investigate possible anomalies near the Nat Trench.
Wen Yu's body had been corroded by an unknown factor. According to medical tests, his internal organs were slowly deteriorating. The process was slow, but it was visible. Psychological evaluations claimed his mind was collapsing too.
Outwardly, he still looked fine. But inside, he was rotting. A red apple turning black beneath the skin.
Wen Yu didn't fully believe the psychological report.
He acknowledged that his body was failing. That much was true. But a complete mental breakdown? He doubted it.
Instead, he believed that something had invaded his mind. A foreign presence was merging with his consciousness, slowly assimilating him.
His memories, his perspective, were often confused. Sometimes thoughts that didn't belong to him would flash through his mind.
These strange intrusions made him wonder: was he still himself? Or merely a vessel for something else?
People noticed his odd behavior. His distant gaze, strange habits. They pulled away from him, and Wen Yu became even more isolated.
And now, he couldn't sleep. Insomnia plagued him. Floating on the surface of the ocean aboard this ship, Wen Yu had prepared himself to die. This was supposed to be his final mission. He had accepted that.
But then came the singing.
It was light and ethereal, like mist rising from beneath the waves. You could never grasp where it began or ended. Yet it was everywhere.
When the song played, Wen Yu could sleep.
And in his sleep, his dreams were no longer dark. He saw a sliver of light.
It looked like a small white fish, swimming gently through his frozen spiritual sea. Tears welled in his eyes as he watched it pass.
This song—this mysterious, nameless voice—always appeared when his pain was at its worst. It calmed his headaches. It held his attention.
Who was singing?
Where did it come from?
Strangest of all, no one else could hear it.
Not even the advanced sensors on the experimental ship, owned by the Doomsday Laboratory, could detect it.
That meant the song was only for him.
For the first time in his life, Wen Yu felt that his existence had meaning.
He was no longer just a weapon. Someone—something—was reaching out to soothe his pain.
For the first time, he wanted to live.
But tonight, the song was silent.
He waited a long time, but it didn't come.
His brow furrowed.
Knock knock.
Someone was at the door.
Unhappy with the interruption, Wen Yu's soldier instincts kicked in. He sat up immediately and opened the door.
A nervous researcher stood there in a white coat, panting slightly.
"Colonel Wen Yu," he said, "something's wrong. A black storm just formed over this area."
Wen Yu froze.
Then his expression sharpened. Without another word, he pushed past the man and strode toward the experimental lab.
The researcher stared after him, startled by the urgency.
He sighed and muttered under his breath, "Actually, Colonel Wen Yu is just cold on the outside and warm inside."
Was that true?
Not quite.
Wen Yu was thinking about the silence in the sea. The absence of that song.
Had the black storm silenced it?
Would the singer survive?
When he entered the lab, it was chaos. Dozens of researchers scrambled around the room as alarms blared and instruments beeped in warning.
The lead researcher rushed forward, pale and sweating.
"Colonel, it's a level ninety-six black storm. It's massive."
Wen Yu remained calm. He nodded and gave his orders.
"Transmit all collected data before the storm hits."
The researcher's breath caught.
They all knew what that meant. This would likely be their final transmission.
No one survives a level ninety-six black storm. Their only option now was to face death at sea.
He gave a bitter smile.
Wen Yu, unfazed, stepped forward and took over the controls from a nearby technician. He operated the sonar and scanning equipment, trying to probe the seabed.
He didn't care about death.
He didn't care about the others.
He just wanted to know one thing before the storm took him: who was singing?
But after a few adjustments, his hand paused. His eyes unfocused.
His fingers slowly touched the top of his head.
Somewhere in his memory, someone had once gently stroked his hair and hummed a tune by his ear.
Wen Yu stopped.
If the storm was as terrible as they said, then perhaps it was better not to find the singer after all.
…
The sea always warned of the black storm.
It began with restlessness. Fish and other shallow-sea creatures fled, hiding deep in coral and rock.
The waves grew wild. Wind howled. Clouds stacked upon each other until the sky turned black. Rain poured so heavily that it drowned out every other sound. It was still daytime, yet not a single ray of sunlight could break through.
Lansi had seen black storms before. When he noticed the strange floating debris and the eerie calm before the chaos, he knew this one was worse than anything he'd faced.
So he abandoned his plan to reach Sunset Bay and hid in a cave. With a cluster of frightened fish as company, Lansi waited for the storm to pass.
Two days passed.
Trapped in the dark, alone, Lansi grew anxious. Winsor wasn't with him, and that made everything worse.
He tried to distract himself, but his mind spiraled instead.
He began longing for sunlight.
He even dreamed of basking under the warm sun and eating hot, delicious food.
But when he woke, he was still beneath the sea. Cold and lightless.
Panic crept in.
He wanted to rise. To reach the surface.
Like the daughter of the sea.
When the fish finally emerged, Lansi knew the storm was over. He fed himself quickly, then raced upward, bursting through the surface.
The wind and rain had stopped. Shafts of sunlight filtered through the broken clouds and lit the sea in golden streaks.
And then, a white mermaid leapt from the waves.
Spray exploded into the air, forming faint rainbows. The mermaid's pale scales shimmered in the sun, casting blinding reflections.
Everyone who saw him was stunned.
Someone gasped aloud.
Startled, the mermaid glanced back, then disappeared beneath the waves. But that one look was enough to leave the witnesses breathless.
They doubted reality. They questioned whether they had entered paradise.
What else could explain such a beautiful, mythical creature?
"Boss, slap me."
On a lone lifeboat bobbing in the water, three people clung to the sides. One of them, a red-haired young man, stared into the distance, eyes wide.
"Harder," he said seriously. "I think I'm hallucinating."
The dark-haired man said nothing. He just kept looking at the spot where the mermaid had vanished.
The woman beside them smiled slightly and raised her hand.
Smack.
"Ow! Rose, I meant for the colonel to do it!"
The redhead glared.
Rose snorted. "Carl, shut up. If you've got that much energy, start rowing."
Carl groaned. "I say we just ask the mermaid to find us an island."
They were the only survivors.
Just as Wen Yu had predicted, the black storm had torn their ship apart. Everyone else was gone.
It was like the sea god himself had lost his temper.
Wen Yu, silent until now, finally spoke.
"Is there any food?"
Rose blinked. "Yes. We have compressed biscuits and some jerky left."
"Open a pack," Wen Yu said. "See if we can lure that mermaid back."
"That's our last ration!" Rose protested. "What if the mermaid shows up and eats us? You need to think this through."
Wen Yu gave her a cold look, then calmly opened a pack himself. He crushed the biscuits in his hands, letting the crumbs scatter into the sea.
Carl and Rose could only watch helplessly. But they found themselves gripping the edge of the lifeboat, staring at the water with anticipation.
Wen Yu continued to crumble the biscuits. His voice dropped to a soft murmur.
"My little fish… come back to me…"