The Horizon's Call shot ahead, as if driven by a fresh spirit—a resolute energy born of the oath taken under that starry heavens. Following their last pledge, the crew experienced a metamorphosis—a gentle but constant stirring that promised not a death but rather the dawn of a redemption able to mend historical wounds.
The ocean sparkled at morning in a range of pastel blues and mild golds. The tribulations they had endured—the wrath of old guardians, the terrible cost of ambition, the relentless challenge to their unity—had all come together into one, wordless resolve: to emerge from darkness into the healing light of a new day.
At the bow, Seraphine stood staring at the horizon as though it were whispering secrets of tomorrow. She felt the echoes of their oath pulsating like a heartbeat, linking every person aboard with fresh purpose with every falling wave and every blast of salt-laden wind.
