(The Timeless Ocean, Anderson and Mickey's POV)
The deck had never felt heavier.
Wind howled faintly over the water as Commander Mickey James and Commander Anderson Silva stood frozen at the bow, the stillness around them broken only by the slow creak of wood and the rhythmic lap of waves against the hull.
Both men looked pale, their faces drained of color, as though every drop of blood in their bodies had realized what was about to happen before their minds could accept it.
"Where is the Young Lord?" Mickey muttered, his voice barely rising above the whisper of the sea breeze. "He just... disappeared."
Anderson crouched down, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands gripping his hair as he stared at the faint ripples where Leonardo had disappeared from the rowboat just minutes ago.
His expression was blank, the kind that only came when a man's brain refused to process the enormity of what had transpired.
"I don't know, Mickey," he said at last, his tone hollow, as the weight of that admission seemed to crush him even further. "I would suggest trying to search for the young lord on that invisible island that we can no longer see... but I don't even know how to do that anymore."
He dragged his palms down his face, letting out a long exhale that trembled at the edges.
"I should have told him NO! I shouldn't have let him go on his own...."
He lamented, as for a few moments, neither of them spoke.
The air itself seemed to grow heavier with every passing second, as though the world was holding its breath in grim anticipation of what came next.
And then, it arrived.
*FRRRRRRIIIIII*
The deep, unmistakable sound of jet engines split the horizon, thundering across the skies like an approaching storm. The two Commanders looked up almost in unison, their faces turning pale as they exchanged one horrified glance.
"Fuck," Mickey muttered under his breath, his voice trembling. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! We are so fucked!"
Anderson's knees almost gave way as the sound grew louder, sharper, closer. "Oh heavens above..." he whispered, straightening up suddenly, as his eyes darted upward to the sky where the jet descended like a black streak of death.
"Please, Lord Soron, please let me survive today. I haven't even said goodbye to my wife yet."
Mickey turned to him, wide-eyed. "You think Lord Shadow Dragon might be in a forgiving mood today?"
The question hung unanswered, for by then the shadow of the jet had already fallen over them.
The Cult flagship rattled faintly as the aircraft roared overhead, its engine scream fading into a low hum as it slowed and hovered above the deck, kicking up a storm of salt and wind.
Every soldier on board froze, their weapons lowered, their eyes locked skyward in terror, as the hatch opened, and from within, a solitary figure leaped.
*Land*
Leo descended like a shadow cut from the heavens themselves, landing silently upon the deck despite the height, his boots touching down without a sound.
"Gentlemen..."
He said, as the moment he landed, every man aboard felt it—the oppressive weight of an aura so cold and sharp it made their skin crawl and their stomachs twist.
The temperature dropped, the sea's surface rippling faintly as though reacting to the tension now pulsing through the air.
"M-M-My Lord..." Mickey stammered, his forehead already glistening with sweat. "We... we didn't expect you so soon—"
He said, his voice cracking with nervousness as Leo didn't respond immediately.
Instead, he pulled his hands behind his back and studied the faces of the men around him, who all bowed before him in unison, out of both fear and respect.
"So that's the mysterious island..... it's got quite the unbelievable mana density I must say..."
Leo observed, his eyes moving towards the horizon, as he gazed at the floating island that appeared just a few kilometres away.
"That island over there, have any of you tried to reach it?"
He asked, his voice calm, as he pointed towards the island.
However, Anderson only blinked in response, his mouth suddenly dry as he followed the direction of Leo's finger.
The horizon before him looking empty, gray, and endless.
"No, my Lord," he replied quickly, his voice trembling. "The island... it disappears once you get too close. We... we cannot see it anymore."
Leo turned his head slightly, his expression unreadable, as he gave a small nod. "I see."
Then his gaze swept the deck once more, this time not looking at the men aboard the flagship, but rather at the ships surrounding it, as he tried to search for his nephew.
"Commander.... Where is my nephew?" he asked, his tone soft yet threaded with quiet authority, as the question hit both Anderson and Mickey like thunder.
Mickey's mouth opened, but no sound came out, while Anderson turned toward him, both men exchanging the same panicked look, as they came up with a delicate way to break the news.
"My Lord..." Mickey finally managed, his voice shaking. "The Young Lord... he... he disappeared."
"Disappeared?" Leo repeated, his tone flat, as that single word carried such weight that even the wind stopped.
For a brief instant, silence ruled the world.
Then a faint sound—a crack—echoed across the deck as a subtle spike of Leo's aura rippled outward, splitting the wood beneath his feet.
*CRACK*
*CRUSH*
The energy that followed was suffocating, pressing down on the hearts of every man present like an invisible hand.
The soldiers collapsed to their knees, some gasping for air, others trembling as though their very souls were trying to flee their bodies.
"My Lord!" Anderson cried, falling forward into a bow so deep his forehead nearly touched the deck. "Please, calm your anger! Please give us a chance to explain!"
The deck groaned faintly under the strain of Leo's mana, the faint glow of his aura bleeding into the air like heat rising from a forge.
And then, as suddenly as it came, the pressure eased.
Leo straightened, his eyes steady once more, his breathing controlled. His expression was unreadable, his calm so deliberate that it was almost worse than his rage.
He looked at the two commanders, both of whom were still trembling on their knees, and let out a long, measured sigh.
"Alright," he said quietly. "Explain."
Anderson swallowed hard, forcing himself to meet his Lord's gaze, though every instinct screamed for him to look away.
"My Lord," he began, his voice low and uneven, "the Young Lord insisted on investigating the island. We... we tried to stop him, but he said that you entrusted him with this expedition for a reason, and that perhaps he could see through what others could not."
Leo's brows furrowed faintly, though he said nothing.
Anderson continued, his words tumbling over each other. "He took a rowboat with two soldiers, and as soon as they crossed the point where the scout ship was stationed, the island disappeared for them. And then... he vanished. Just like that. There was a flash, and then he was gone."
Leo closed his eyes briefly, exhaling through his nose as the faintest ripple of power coursed through him again.
"So... he disobeyed," he murmured, though there was no anger in his tone now—only something colder, quieter, heavier.
Anderson dared not answer.
Mickey wiped the sweat from his brow with a shaking hand, his voice barely audible. "We... we searched everywhere, my Lord. We sent scouts across the area, but there's nothing. The sea is calm, the sky is clear, there's no damage to the rowboat, no sign of where he went. It's like the world swallowed him whole."
Leo's gaze drifted toward the horizon once again, the massive floating island still visible to him, as he let out a deep sigh.
*Sigh*
"I gave the two of you ONE JOB...."
He reprimanded, before leaping from the main ship, as although he couldn't fly, he traversed the distance to the scout ship stationed five kilometres ahead in a single leap, which stunned both Monarchs watching.
"Did he just?"
They wondered, as suddenly, the same flash of light that consumed Leonardo, appeared once again, this time for Leo, as he too disappeared from the Time Stilled Ocean.
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