Timeless Assassin

(The Timeless Ocean, Leonardo's POV)

The Cult fleet sailed steadily toward its destination.

The hundred-kilometer gap had shrunk to under twenty in just over an hour, as the men kept their eyes glued to the mysterious island that hovered ahead of them like a mirage that refused to fade.

Leonardo stood at the bow, his knuckles white around the rail as the wind whipped against his face. By now, he had made up his mind to explore the island despite his uncle's apprehension, as he hyped himself up internally to make the most of this rare chance.

'Nothing in life ever falls to men who don't take chances. Wasn't that something Mum used to say all the time?'

He wondered, recalling the phrase vividly, as if her voice still lingered in his ears, as he used it to justify what he was about to do.

'At my age, Uncle and Father were already dominating their home planet's population as VR gamers. They were legends. If they could handle the thrill, so can I.'

He thought, as with every passing second, excitement coursed deeper through his veins, urging him to carve the first line of his own legend.

Commander Anderson stood beside him, his posture rigid yet calm, as his sharp gaze stayed fixed ahead. The floating island had not shifted once since they had first sighted it, and yet something about its stillness felt unnatural, as if it was not tethered to anything solid, and still, it did not drift, did not move, did not obey the winds.

This contradiction unsettled Anderson, who frowned quietly while his mind turned over possibilities that refused to make sense.

"Commander Silva!... COMMANDER!"

A frantic voice burst from the crystal communicator, snapping him from thought.

"Go ahead, I'm listening," Silva replied.

"Sir... it's gone."

The words came out fractured by static, yet heavy with disbelief.

"Repeat that," Anderson said, his brow tightening.

"The island, sir... it's gone. We can't see it anymore. It was right there a moment ago, and now—" a brief pause followed, punctuated by the crackle of the communicator, "—now there's nothing. Just sky and water."

Leonardo's eyes widened as he leaned forward, staring at the massive floating island that was still clearly visible before him.

"What do they mean it's gone? It's right there!" he said, bewildered.

Anderson pointed toward the floating mass that shimmered faintly under the twilight sky, its presence undeniable from the flagship's deck.

But the captain of the scout ship sounded equally sure of his claim.

"We are positive, sir. None of the men aboard can see it anymore."

Anderson raised an eyebrow, his voice turning firm. "All ships, hold position. Drop anchors at once. Pull back the sails and lock formation. Now."

The command raced across the fleet as men scrambled to obey. Boots thundered against the deck and chains clattered as the massive anchors plunged into the sea, their heavy iron coils unspooling like serpents into the depths.

The sails folded in crisp rhythm, and within moments the fleet came to a grinding halt, the creak of wood echoing against the sudden stillness.

Only the sound of water lapping against the hull remained, quiet and constant.

Leonardo's eyes darted from horizon to horizon, as the island still floated before him in all its impossible glory.

"Scout One, confirm your coordinates," Anderson ordered, his tone deceptively calm.

"Same as yours, Commander," came the reply, laced with confusion. "Five kilometers ahead. Dead center."

Anderson and Mickey exchanged a long look, both sensing the same unease beneath the other's calm exterior.

"I still see it clear as day," Mickey said slowly, squinting into the distance. "There's no way they can't."

"Maybe it's an illusion," Anderson replied, though his tone lacked conviction, because no illusion could ever be this intricate, not without an elaborate mana array to sustain it.

Mickey didn't argue. He simply adjusted his gloves, summoned his mana, and nodded once toward Anderson. "Fly with me. Let's take a closer look."

Both Monarchs lifted into the air, their cloaks fluttering behind them, as they cut through the wind.

*Whizz*

*Trrr*

The sound of air slicing past filled their ears as they rose higher and began to glide toward the island, cautious yet steady.

Fifteen kilometres to the island….. Thirteen…. Twelve….. Ten!

That was when it happened.

One moment, the island gleamed before them in full detail, cliffs of green and stone rising through a halo of cloud, sunlight curling beneath its edge, and in the next, it was gone.

Vanished.

No sound, no ripple, no distortion. Just the cold, empty sky.

Mickey slowed mid-flight, eyes scanning wildly. "Anderson... I can't see it anymore. Can you?"

Anderson stopped beside him, his gaze sweeping across the same horizon. "No," he said quietly. "It's gone for me too."

They hovered there for several long breaths, neither speaking, the silence pressing heavy on the wind.

"Could it be cloaking?" Mickey asked at last, his tone low. "Some kind of dimensional veil?"

Anderson didn't answer immediately. Instead, he flew backward, several dozen meters, then another hundred, testing the distance. But the island did not reappear. The massive landmass that had occupied 40% of their vision was gone entirely, swallowed by the endless gray.

Mickey frowned and followed, his voice uneasy. "It's not a distance issue then. Once it disappears, it stays gone. Like it wipes itself out of existence."

They concluded, as they exchanged a long, troubled glance before finally deciding to pull back, their trip back to the ship short, as they landed with a loud—

*THUD*

"You men still see it?" Anderson asked, as soon as he returned, as he scanned the confused faces of the crew.

"Yes, sir," one of the sailors answered quickly. "Clear as the sun itself."

He said, as his answer made Mickey run a hand through his salt-damp hair in sheer disbelief.

"This is some spooky shit, I'm telling you. We got too close, and poof… it's just gone. No fade, no shimmer, nothing. Just empty air."

Leonardo stepped forward, his brows furrowed. "But how can that be? We're all looking at the same thing."

He argued, however, Anderson only exhaled slowly in response, his tone grim.

"Maybe we're not."

He said, as the three men stood at the bow in silence, the twilight deepening around them as they tried to come up with some logical explanation for this bizarre phenomenon….

The massive island still glimmered faintly for those who could see it, while for others it had vanished completely, leaving only the endless ocean and a question that refused to be answered.