The Aethelgard was a titan of steel, a ghost ship drifting where the currents were deep and the shadows were long. It sat upon the churning Atlantic like a crown of iron, its hull scarred by salt and its decks silent as a grave. There were no lights to greet them, no radio pings to guide their descent. The vessel was a fortress of silence, a floating laboratory designed to house the secrets that the land could no longer hold. As the transport hovered over the landing pad, the wind howling through the open bay, Alessandro felt the heavy thrum of the ship’s engines vibrating through his boots. It wasn't just a machine; it was a heartbeat.
Seraphina stepped onto the wet steel, her movements light, her gaze fixed on the bridge where a single figure stood watching. The salt spray caught in her
