Chapter Text
“Yeosang!”
“Yeosang, where are you?”
“Can you hear us, Yeosang?”
Jongho races through the forest just behind the others. He’s lost track of the time since they arrived in this place; since the moment they got off the ship, he and Mingi have been exploring the island without so much as a thought of responsibility. The beauty had enamored them until it was suddenly late into the night, and they finally decided to return to the beach.
They had returned to find Hongjoong in a panic.
Yeosang disappeared.
So now the Black Pirates scourge the forest, bright flashlights in each hand. No one pays attention to the beauty anymore. This place is only utopia if all eight of them are here.
The crew emerges into a clearing, where a waterfall runs into a small lagoon at the base of a mountain. Hongjoong stops in front of it.
“Spread out here,” he orders, his voice tight with anxiety. “If anyone finds anything, call the rest of us.”
The crew nods, then moves. Most head back towards the treeline or to the shore of the lagoon. Jongho also approaches the shore of the lagoon, looking for anything that could be a sign that Yeosang was here at some point. His eyes scan the area as he walks closer to the falls. There is a rocky ledge that leads off the sand and above the water. Jongho climbs onto it, approaching the waterfall. Something has caught his eye.
“What is it?” San calls when he notices Jongho.
Jongho can barely hear San’s voice over the roar of rushing water. He crouches down on the ledge, looking closer at something sparkling on the ground. A string of pearls, discarded on the rocks as if dropped by accident.
Jongho is sure Yeosang was wearing pearls today.
“Get the others!” he calls back to San, grabbing the pearls and standing back up. He looks carefully at the waterfall again, then shines his light into it. Sure enough, there is something behind it - and not solid rock. There is an entrance to a cave.
Seven pirates quickly enter into the mysterious passage. Jongho wonders how none of them stumbled upon it in their earlier explorations. In different circumstances, maybe they would move slowly through such a beautiful cavern, stopping to search for all the precious treasures it could be hiding.
But right now, they only search for one thing.
The cave becomes thick with fog very quickly, until Jongho can barely make out his hand in front of his face. He slows down, trying to find the closest person to him in order not to lose them. Even without being able to see him well, Jongho knows it’s Seonghwa’s arm that he eventually holds onto.
The Black Pirates stumble through the foggy cave, still calling for Yeosang and receiving no answer. Jongho realizes he had begun to hold his breath at some point. Why is that? Fog isn’t toxic. But it just seems natural in this situation…as if there was another time in his life when he had to do something similar to this. He can’t remember specifically, but he’s been on so many adventures, so many missions, that it’s quite possible. This is frustratingly familiar; the memory is just on the edge of his mind…
“Here! Over here guys, I found him!”
Seonghwa lurches towards Wooyoung’s voice, and Jongho is quick to follow. They come to an opening in the cave where the fog dissipates and they can actually see their surroundings. And there, crumpled on the ground in the middle of the space, unmoving—
Yeosang.
Wooyoung is already at the man’s side, lifting his body into his own lap. Jongho rushes to join them. His heart settles a little at the steady rise and fall of Yeosang’s chest, and even more when he realizes Yeosang’s eyes are already fluttering open. The others crowd around anxiously. Hongjoong pushes to the front.
“Come on, Yeo,” Wooyoung says softly, helping the man sit up. “You’re ok, you’re ok.”
Yeosang sits up, glassy eyes staring into nothing as his consciousness begins to fully return to him.
“Where are we?” he asks, and his voice is surprisingly strong.
“We’re…still on the island,” Wooyoung says, and looks up at Hongjoong. “In a cave behind the waterfall.”
“Are you hurt?” Hongjoong questions. “Jongho, do you have something?”
Jongho hesitates, then shakes his head. “I didn’t bring my bag…it must be back on the ship.” In all honesty, he hasn’t seen his medic bag in a good while. They haven’t had use for it these days.
“No, I’m fine,” Yeosang waves off, and then suddenly begins to stand up. Jongho only just realizes how troubled his eyes are. “Listen to me. There’s something very wrong about this place.”
Wooyoung tries to slow Yeosang down, but he ignores the man’s efforts. Hongjoong grabs the navigator’s arm, his face very serious.
“Slow down. What are you talking about? What’s wrong?”
Yeosang looks at the captain. He seems to have a lot to say, and Jongho wonders what exactly he saw when he was in here alone. But then Yeosang hesitates.
“I…I’m sure I saw it,” he finally says. “It felt so real.”
“What? What did you see?”
What did he see? What could be wrong here? This is it, the place they’ve been searching so long for. There’s not supposed to be anything wrong here.
Jongho feels a twist in his gut. If this isn’t utopia, then…then…
Yeosang looks past all of them, his face visibly paling. Everyone else looks the same way, down a tunnel opposite the direction they had come in. The tunnel ends in bright light, but it is partially blocked by something. A figure.
A figure dressed in black. Wearing a mask and fedora.
“Them.”
Jongho’s heart sinks.
“It’s a trap,” Seonghwa breathes beside him, eyes locked on the man silhouetted by light. The first mate seems unable to move. For a moment, they all do.
Then Hongjoong crosses in front of his crew, staring down the black-clad man with a growing fire behind his eyes. The man stares in return, all ice.
“Get back to the ship,” Hongjoong orders. His tone is low, and leaves no room for argument. “Now.”
“Captain—” Seonghwa snaps out of his daze, eyes flashing towards Hongjoong.
“Take them all back now , Seonghwa,” he demands, pushing at the man without breaking eye contact with their enemy. “Prepare the ship. I’m right behind you.”
Jongho thinks for certain Seonghwa will argue, but then the man shuts his mouth and turns around with a nod.
“Back to the ship!” he repeats. The crew is hesitant, looking between their captain and first mate, startled at this turn of events. But Seonghwa pushes at them insistently. Wooyoung is the first to obey, grabbing Yeosang’s hand and starting to run back in the direction they came from. The rest follow, and Jongho is pulled along by Seonghwa.
Jongho looks back even as they run. The man in black still hasn’t moved from the cave’s mouth. Hongjoong only stays back for a few moments before turning tentatively and running away himself.
Past the waterfall, through the forest, across the beach without stopping. By the time Jongho is climbing aboard the ship, Mingi has already started shouting orders to make ready for sailing. In what would be impressive time under other circumstances, the Destiny is pushing off into the waves.
Hongjoong stands at the wheel, Seonghwa and Yunho flanking him on either side. The rest of the Black Pirates stand at their positions, looking anxiously toward the quarterdeck. There’s been no sign of their enemy since leaving the cave. But there’s a lingering threat in the air. Jongho can feel it.
Minutes pass and still no mysterious dark figures. The Destiny is moving so fast, the island is long out of sight now. But Jongho can’t even think about that. He stands at the edge of the deck, chancing a look at the waters below. What had just been friendly, sparkling blue waves lapping against the beach has started to turn into an angry gray torrent beating against the sides of their ship. Jongho looks up at the sky. It’s still night, but the twinkling stars and moon have completely disappeared behind black clouds. When did the storybook landscape so quickly melt away? A harsh wind beats against Jongho’s face, nearly blowing him off his feet. He pulls away from the edge just as a fat droplet of water hits his forehead. It’s followed by another, then another, until a barrage of rain has started to fall, soaking him to the core in an instant.
The rain blinds Jongho to his surroundings. Yet he somehow manages to hear Seonghwa’s voice over the roar of the Destiny’s sails flying wildly in the gust.
“Brace yourselves, we’re heading straight into a storm!”
Jongho searches for something to hold onto as the ship begins to rock in the choppy water. His hands find a rope net surrounding one of the masts and cling to it. He can hear some of the others shouting to each other, likely trying to pinpoint one another with their limited vision.
Jongho stays in place. He feels on edge, but it has nothing to do with the storm. The Black Pirates have been through many storms before. No, there’s something off about this. About all of this. How did their supposed utopia crumble so quickly before them?
And where did their enemies go?
A thud pulls Jongho from his thoughts. The noise is close enough that he hears it over the chaos of the storm, but far enough that he can’t make out its origin. He squints forward through the water spraying in his eyes. It may have been a piece of the ship breaking and falling down. But the impact felt too graceful for that. Has one of his crew members jumped down from a mast or rope?
The answer seems to be yes when he hears footsteps begin to approach him, steady despite the rocking ship. Jongho’s eyes adjust, and he can make out a human figure. But he still feels unsure.
“San?” he calls out uncertainly, trying to remember who was closest to him before the storm came upon them. The figure continues to come towards him silently. “Yeosang? Mingi? Wooyoung?”
The figure answers to none of those names. Jongho feels his gut twist, and reaches for the gun at his hip with one hand, still holding tightly to the mast with the other.
San’s panicked voice rings out over the storm just as Jongho recognizes a black mask and fedora.
“We’re under attack!!”
Jongho pulls out his gun and aims at the man without hesitation. The man lurches forward just as he fires, forcing his wrist up and sending the bullet into the air. Jongho grits his teeth in frustration and lets go of the mast completely, trying to wrestle himself out of the man’s iron grip. He grabs onto the cloth on the man’s shoulder and tries to throw him off balance, but the man stays centered. Jongho hits the side of the man’s face as best he can without letting go of him. The man knees him in the gut. The two scrap in a messy dance across the deck, rain mercilessly pouring around them. Faintly, Jongho can hear the sounds of the others trapped in their own fights, swords clanging and guns firing.
Jongho goes in for another hit when he feels his foot slip on the wet surface. Both men crash to the ground, but that doesn’t stop the fight for even a second. The impact of the fall sends Jongho’s gun skidding away. He scrambles to get on top of the man, holding him down and throwing punches.
One punch sends the man’s mask flying off. And although Jongho knows, has seen before the uncanniness of what lies behind their masks - he is still unprepared to see his own face looking back up at him.
He freezes only for a split second, but it’s a costly mistake. The man grips Jongho’s shirt and manages to push him off. They roll in the shallow layer of water that has accumulated on the deck, exchanging jabs at awkward angles, both trying to regain the upper hand. But eventually, Jongho is overpowered. The man is on top of him, and he doesn’t settle with punches this time. Panic spikes in Jongho’s heart as the man’s hands wrap around his throat and press down harshly. Jongho chokes for air, struggling erratically underneath his enemy, his legs kicking and his fingers clawing at the man’s hands. The man only presses harder, a terrifying determination in his eyes.
“Open your eyes,” the man says, although Jongho almost misses it over the alarm flooding his mind.
“Remember, time keeps passing.”
What is this guy on about? He must be insane. Jongho can feel darkness beginning to creep into the edges of his mind as all oxygen trickles out of his body. But no - he refuses to die at the hands of this crazy man.
Mustering every last bit of his quickly draining energy, Jongho throws his head forward, smashing it against his enemy’s. The vice on his throat disappears, and he kicks the man away from him, gasping in air. But he doesn’t have time to completely recover. He drags himself off the ground and stumbles to his feet, doing anything he can to just get away before the other man comes back to his senses.
Jongho heads towards the quarterdeck, instinct making him move to where he knows his captain will be. Between the violent rocking of the ship, the blinding rain, and the oxygen slowly returning to his head, he moves clumsily across the Destiny . The ship suddenly lurches forward, and he only just catches himself on the railing.
There’s no time to even right himself before someone is jumping out at him, a shiny silver sword swinging right at his chest. Jongho can only brace himself for what will surely be a fatal blow, no weapons to protect himself and in no state to dodge the attack in time.
He closes his eyes and turns his face, but the sword never touches him. Instead, metal clashes with metal and someone grunts with effort. Jongho looks up to see Wooyoung standing in front of him, using his own sword to push against a different man in black.
“Go!” he gets out, glancing back at Jongho. “I’ve got him. Find Hongjoong!”
In another circumstance, Jongho would have refused to leave his friend’s side until they defeated their enemy together. But he knows how useless he is right now. He scutters away from the fight without looking back, his heart beating wildly against his chest, and hopes the cry of pain that comes a moment later and sounds so much like Wooyoung is just in his head.
He races across the deck, slipping and sliding and getting back up again. He passes by some of the others, trying to ignore how obvious it is that they’re all losing their own fights. Mingi beaten down in the shrouds, Yeosang cornered near the bow. He spots San crawling on the ground, a frightening amount of blood falling from his mouth when he coughs. Another man in black simply stands over him, watching. Anger bubbles beneath Jongho’s skin, and he rushes towards them. He only takes a few steps, though, before a deafening crack sounds from above him. He falls backwards just as a large piece of one of the masts crashes in front of him.
He stares at the broken mast, his eyes wide and his breath uneven. He is completely blocked off from San now. More urgently, he realizes their ship - their Destiny - is falling apart right in front of them.
They were sure they had found their ultimate treasure. How did it all so quickly become this terrible nightmare?
Jongho needs to get to Hongjoong. Their captain - surely their captain will save them all.
He makes it to the base of the quarterdeck’s stairs and tries to climb them without toppling over. Halfway up, another person blocks him. Another man in black, maybe the one with Jongho’s face, or maybe someone else. Jongho can’t see well enough through the rain, and he doesn’t care nearly enough to try.
He makes the first move, swinging at the man’s face and landing a solid hook against his chin. The man stumbles back a little at the attack, and Jongho jumps at the opening. But the man grabs him and pulls him back. He forces Jongho back down the stairs. Jongho punches at the man’s unguarded stomach, but it doesn’t seem to have much effect, and he’s pushed all the way back to the main deck. Jongho pulls away, ready to lunge again, when a gunshot rings through his ears. He stumbles, confused.
He sees the gun in the other man’s hand at the same time he feels the sharp pain in his abdomen. He only notices the sticky warmth spreading through his shirt when his knees give way. Jongho crashes to the floor, right at the base of the stairs, and clutches his stomach. He looks up at the man, half-expecting another shot to go off.
The man only holsters his gun and walks away.
Jongho coughs painfully through his already bruised throat, blood splattering out of his mouth and mixing with the water beneath him. All his strength immediately seeps out of him until he can no longer lift his head from the wooden planks. He is stuck staring at the ground in front of him, vision clouded by the rain that beats down on him - and probably a good amount of tears as well. He can hear fighting above him, on the quarterdeck he never made it to. A moment later, a limp body thuds in front of him, their face inches away from his. Jongho chokes on a cry when he meets Yunho’s eyes, just barely still alive.
“Hyung,” he rasps, dragging himself forward despite the pain. “Hyung…”
Yunho’s only answer is a soft groan, before his eyes slip shut completely.
Minutes pass and Jongho wonders how much longer he has. The storm has started to calm, and he realizes he can no longer hear any fighting. But as the rain lets up to a steady drizzle, he understands why. Sounds of swords and guns and punches have been replaced with soft whimpering, muffled crying, and desperate gasps for air. His crewmates are strewn across the deck like pieces of trash, lying in puddles of their own gore. Mingi is curled up on his side, holding his knee close to his chest in a way that makes Jongho think he took the fast way down from the ropes above. Yeosang is slumped against the broken mast, his breaths shallow and labored, his fist pressed against a dark red blotch on his chest. Wooyoung is on his knees; his head is bowed and shaking, and he mumbles to himself incoherently, his hands clapping over his ears again and again. San lies on his back with wide, bloodshot eyes that stare into the sky, and a chest that rises and falls too rapidly to actually draw any air in. Seonghwa is only a short distance from Jongho, silently sitting up against the staircase opposite him. His eyes are open, but he is perfectly still. It takes a second for Jongho to notice the jagged piece of wood piercing through his shoulder.
Is this how the Black Pirates end? Tricked to their doom by false treasure? Waiting for…
A door bursts open behind Jongho. The captain’s quarters. Hongjoong tumbles out, hitting the ground on all fours in a largely ungraceful manner. How…how long has he been in there? As his crew was being cut down, waiting for him to rescue them…he was just behind that door?
Jongho watches as Hongjoong starts to pick himself up, before freezing. He watches as the Destiny’s captain slowly takes in the sight before him.
He watches as Hongjoong’s eyes fill with horror. And he knows his captain did not stay in that room by choice.
Hongjoong stands, but when he starts to walk, it’s as if in a daze. Seonghwa moves for the first time, looking up at Hongjoong with shining eyes. A silent apology - and Hongjoong knows it. He rests a hand on his first mate’s uninjured shoulder, an assurance that it’s not his fault, before staggering on. He looks at Yunho, who is still unmoving on the ground; then his gaze lands on Jongho.
He looks at the dark spot on Jongho’s stomach. His face fills with regret. But there is something else, something that Jongho can’t quite decipher. Despite himself, he reaches out to his captain.
Hongjoong touches his arm, shakes his head, and goes on.
Jongho lets himself fall back down. But there is something else on his mind now. The look on his captain’s face. Behind the horror and regret, there was…disbelief. Not just the kind that comes with denial in tragic circumstances. But the kind that makes one feel things are…not quite right…
Why hasn’t Jongho died yet?
Hongjoong passes the rest of his crew, but his steps have become faster. Purposeful. He doesn’t look at the crumpled bodies anymore. He looks straight ahead. Then suddenly, he stops.
In front of him stands their enemy.
Eight men with black coats, black hats, and black masks. The eight men who did this to Jongho and the others. They stare down at Hongjoong, not a sign of battle on any of their bodies. Jongho is vaguely aware that he has never seen his captain look so small before.
“What did you do?!” Hongjoong shouts, fists clenched and trembling at his sides. His attention is fixated on one man in the center of the group, whose stature is most similar to his own. “What did you do to them?!”
Jongho’s senses are starting to fade, likely due to his attempt at moving seconds earlier. It takes all his energy to keep his eyes even slightly open. Hongjoong’s voice comes in and out. Jongho can tell that he is livid, but he makes no move to come closer to their enemy.
The man directly in front of Hongjoong, who Jongho thinks is likely the captain of the rival crew, says something. Sound is becoming muffled, though, and Jongho only catches the end.
“...could use the Cromer to save them.”
Jongho sees Hongjoong tense. Even through his dulled consciousness, he also tenses at the word. Cromer . How does this man know about their secret weapon?
“Stop,” Hongjoong warns - but he doesn’t sound surprised. Even in the face of death, Jongho finds himself chilled. No one should know about the Cromer. So why does their captain go along with this?
The enemy captain continues. “Why? You do it all the time.”
Something is not right. It wasn’t right in Hongjoong’s disbelieving expression. It wasn’t right when they found Yeosang in that cave. It wasn’t right when their ship started flying, when they ate cake for every meal, when they lost track of what day it even was.
It’s not right that Jongho hasn’t yet died from a gunshot wound in the stomach. And it’s not right that their enemy knows much more about them than they possibly should.
Hongjoong laughs wryly, and it sounds so, so wrong.
“....can’t trick me that easily…”
Jongho can’t keep his eyes open any longer, and he plunges into a darkness of confusion. Is he finally dying?
But, no. Something is not right about that either.
He is surely unconscious now, and yet, a final command echoes in his head.
Open your eyes.
And Jongho does. He does open his eyes, and he is not met with the sight of a crew slaughtered on the deck of their own ship. He stares at a yellow ceiling. There is still the sound of waves, but they are far away, and a faint scent of ocean breeze hangs in the air. Jongho is still lying down, but instead of rough wood under his back, there is a soft mattress.
He doesn’t notice something is propping his head up until it moves. Jongho sits up slowly, surprised by a complete absence of pain. A glance down at his shirt finds not even a trace of blood. Now sitting up in the bed, he looks around, and quickly realizes he is not alone in the room.
San is also lying in the bed, the thing Jongho’s head was propped up on being the man’s leg. Yeosang is slumped against the headboard. Both men seem to be slowly coming to, the same way Jongho had. They have a similar reaction, checking the parts of their body that should be fatally wounded, and coming up with nothing.
The three men find themselves staring at each other, perhaps in hopes that at least one of them will have some kind of answer. But beside the whir of the ceiling fan above them - there is only silence.
Then, Yeosang’s eyes narrow. As if recalling a foggy memory.
“We…rented this room.”
As soon as the words leave his mouth, Jongho knows they are right. Because they did rent this room, just earlier that day. And the three of them came here to rest, while the others….
“We anchored on this island to restock,” San says. Then he peeks out of the open window. Jongho follows his gaze. Outside is a peaceful beach, with a yellow sun, blue sky, and fauna of a normal size. There are other people milling about - regular people. Not pirates.
Everything suddenly comes back to Jongho. The map they found in the abandoned building on the last island. They had set out to follow it, but supplies had run short faster than they had predicted. So they anchored in the closest inhabited island, planning to stay just a day while they restocked. Rooms had been purchased at a popular inn. The others wanted to explore, while Jongho, San, and Yeosang wanted to take a short rest. So they split.
And then, they must have…fallen asleep…
So it was a dream. All of it. All of it? But can such a narrative really be chalked up to nothing more than a dream? The journey, the false treasure, the attack - it is all still so vivid in Jongho’s mind. Looking back now, it does seem foolish to even consider that it was real , in the traditional sense of the word. But surely…surely there’s more to it than just… imagination .
“You all saw it too.”
There’s no pretext to Jongho’s words, but San and Yeosang immediately share a knowing look.
“…yes.”
This is the second time they’ve shared a dream.
It seems to be their enemy’s preferred method of attack.
But…Hongjoong hadn’t been in their dream last time. And he was certainly in this one. The recognition he had held when his crew first described the men terrorizing them continued into this dream. When Hongjoong had confronted their enemy on the deck of the Destiny - there was familiarity.
Remember, remember, remember. Time keeps passing.
There is something going on. And it’s bigger than Jongho can understand.
They find most of the others in the parking lot of the hotel. Seonghwa had woken up in the pool. Yunho in a car he had rented. Mingi under a palm tree and Wooyoung on the beach. They all have the same story.
Hongjoong doesn’t come.
They set out to find him before trying to understand anything themselves. No one speaks much at first. Until Yunho.
“These men don’t act like they’re after our treasure,” he says, noticeably limping as compensation for the healing injury Jongho had somehow completely forgotten was meant to be there in the dream.
“What else would they be after?”
“Us.”
Jongho bristles at the implication. Hongjoong was firm about how to view their enemy, and this is not it.
“And I think…Hongjoong knows that.”
Seonghwa tells Yunho enough, and makes him agree to wait for Hongjoong before speaking anymore. Jongho doesn’t miss the poorly hidden bitterness on the man’s face for the rest of the walk.
They find Hongjoong asleep in the middle of an empty road. Seonghwa nudges his side, and his eyes flick open. Seven faces stare down at the captain.
He doesn’t move, and there’s no obvious reaction through his body. But Jongho sees understanding color the man’s gaze. There is no doubt he was in the dream with them.
Before anyone can ask even a single question, though, their captain speaks with an air of finality, still unmoving from his place on the ground.
“I know where to go next.”