On the southern beach of Hellington, seagulls cried above the sea, cutting through the gray air of dawn.
Waves rolled slowly against the shore, leaving on the sand the heavy scent of salt, iron, and tar.
The morning air bit at the skin, cold as a blade.
Captain Sharlok stood motionless before the waterline.
The footprints in the sand had already been erased by the tide.
Nothing remained.
The cigar between his lips burned slowly, and the smoke rose straight into the steel-colored sky, marking time like a metronome.
A perfect line the wind did not dare break.
Before him, the sound of the sea swallowed everything.
But not enough to hide a mistake.
“Captain!
I’m here.”
Commander Surez approached with firm steps, a folder tucked beneath his arm.
“Have you completed the report?”
“Yes, sir.
And the commander of Hellington has requested a meeting with you.”
Sharlok did not take his eyes off the sea.
The cigar tilted slightly between his lips.
“He requested… a meeting with me?”
“Yes, Captain.”
For a moment the wind seemed to stop.
“Who is this commander?”
Surez hesitated half a second.
“Rione, sir.”
The name hung in the salty air.
Sharlok finally turned.
“The captain of Hellington should be that idiot Benjamin.”
“From what I was told, Captain Benjamin is on a mission in the north.
No further details were provided.”
Silence settled between them again.
“I see.”
Sharlok stared at the horizon, his gaze hard.
“Have the families of the fugitives been questioned?”
“Yes.
Commander Abram spoke with Sky’s aunt.
She blames us for her nephew’s escape… and hopes we never find him.”
A faint, surgical smile cut across the captain’s lips.
“Of course.”
“Shark’s mother, on the other hand… fainted as soon as she heard the news.
She said nothing relevant.”
Surez lowered his gaze to the papers.
The pages rustled softly in the salty wind.
“In the Imperial archives I found an interesting detail.”
Sharlok did not move.
“Shark’s grandfather was Captain Fish Barron.
Imperial Navy.
Active during the campaign of the Islands of Water and Fire.”
The name seemed to change the temperature of the air.
For a moment the sea made no sound.
Sharlok let the cigar fall onto the sand.
He crushed it slowly, his gaze still fixed on the sea.
When he spoke, his voice was flat.
But something beneath it was alive.
“The apple fell very far from the tree.”
Surez understood that the name had left an invisible shadow in the air.
But he said nothing.
“Fish Barron was killed by Merser Fearwather the night the imperial city of Watermill burned.
At that time the demon had not yet formed his clan.”
For a moment Sharlok’s gaze drifted across the sea’s horizon.
Memories resurfaced like a cannon blast.
“That was thirty years ago.”
His voice remained calm, but distant.
“I was a first-year recruit at the training base on the tropical continent.
In the middle of the night the bells began to ring.”
The sea wind passed between them, heavy with salt.
“Watermill had been attacked.”
Sharlok remained motionless.
Surez watched him carefully.
“So, Captain… you saw him?”
Sharlok did not answer immediately.
The sound of the waves rolled slowly against the shore.
When he spoke, his voice was low.
“That night…”
He paused briefly.
“Those who saw him did not survive to tell the story.”
No tremor crossed the captain’s face.
No unnecessary gesture.
Only that calm that does not belong to ordinary men.
“Merser has been dead for a long time.
And Shark has never shown signs of vengeance.
Strange that he feels no hatred.
It would have made more sense for him to serve the Empire.”
Surez inhaled deeply.
“That is true, however… what worries me is Sky.
He is a Light.
We don’t know whether he enjoys the same protection as his aunt.
If we arrested him and locked him in Nova Aquila… would the matter truly end there?”
Sharlok looked at him.
And in that gaze there was a sentence, not an opinion.
“Let’s focus on capturing them.
Then the imperial court will decide their fate.”
Surez nodded.
“I imagine if we’re here, you already have an action plan, Captain.”
“Last night I questioned two beggars in the alleys of Purple Street.
They saw them at Grey Wall.
Three of them.
The third… kept his distance.
And the idiots no longer had their eolite shackles.”
“But if he freed them… why follow from afar?” Surez asked.
“To avoid being associated with them.
Or to protect them.
Either way, we start here,” Sharlok replied.
He pointed toward a section of the beach.
“That’s where the boat was found.
That exact spot.
The most obvious route is the South Gate.
It leads to the lower city.”
“So not Middle Town.
They entered from the south.
Grey Wall is only a few steps from the port warehouses.”
“And they avoided the harbor,” Sharlok said with a sharp glance.
“It was too heavily guarded.
They took the alleys toward Grey Wall.”
“Or they followed the beach to the drainage outlets.
From there they would have met no checkpoints,” Surez added.
“But those two are too stupid to act that cleverly.”
Sharlok watched the waterline advancing and retreating.
“Let’s review the facts: landing in the south.
No harbor.
Entry through the lower city.
Sighted at Grey Wall.
And there were three of them.”
Surez nodded slowly.
“Why not leave Hellington immediately?
They were looking for someone.
Or waiting for something.”
“A clean route north without attracting attention?” Sharlok said, gesturing toward the sea.
“We follow the beach east.
To the drains.
From there we trace the alleys.
Salt.
Broken eolite.
Every trace.”
Surez stiffened.
“Immediately, Captain.”
A metallic wind carrying rust and tar rose from the distant docks.
Sharlok began to walk.
The hunt was changing shape.
They walked along the shoreline, their steps marked by the whisper of wet sand, until the mouth of the sewage conduit opened before them like a black maw.
The tide had left uneven streaks across the shore.
Disturbed sand.
Broken shells.
Debris dragged by the water.
Sharlok stopped.
Something reflected faintly in the gray dawn light.
Surez bent down and brushed the sand aside with the tip of his boot.
A blackened metallic fragment emerged.
A little farther away, almost completely buried, another piece snapped clean in two.
The eolite shackles.
“There they are.”
Commander Surez’s voice broke the silence, precise as a gunshot.
Sharlok crouched without haste, examining the fragments with surgical attention.
“Strange.
One seems to have been cut, the other broken by force.
Why?”
Surez began assembling the possibilities in his mind.
“If the third man helped them, why not open both the same way?”
Sharlok lifted his eyes toward the horizon, as if searching for the answer in the lifeless reflection of the sea.
“To break eolite shackles by force requires considerable physical strength.
That third accomplice is not Level One.
He’s higher.”
“But what doesn’t add up is the difference in method.”
Surez pointed at the clean edge of the metal.
Sharlok answered without hesitation.
“Shark, no.
He uses fire.
He would have melted them, not cut them.
Sky, with wind, could shatter them like crystal.
The third man… we know nothing about him.”
They turned toward the conduit.
“If they followed the conduit, they would have reached the lower city.
It’s the most logical route.”
Sharlok pointed in the direction opposite the harbor.
“I need to speak with Commander Rione.
I want full access to the surveillance cameras.”
“Excellent idea, Captain.”
Surez wrote it down, already thinking ahead.
Sharlok added coldly:
“I want the soldiers ordered to leave only a single detachment at Grey Wall.
If those bastards are still there, they won’t show themselves if surrounded by too many recruits.
With only one garrison, they might come out into the open.”
“I’ll proceed immediately.”
Surez nodded, determination carved into his face.
Sharlok looked once more at the entrance of the conduit, then turned.
“You go to Grey Wall.
Talk to the soldiers.
Gather information.
I’ll go to the commander.”
They divided the tasks without ceremony.
The wind lifted dust and salt.
As Surez headed toward the city, Sharlok remained for a moment watching the gray ribbon of the sea.
Then he began walking calmly.
In Hellington someone believed every move had been calculated.
But they had forgotten one variable.
Sharlok.
Next Episode — Two Days of Darkness