The sound of thousands of screeches and the thunderous beating of winds muffled my curses as I looked up at the darkened sky. It was as if every form of winged beast had taken flight at the same time and were circling the Yorktown like the old ship was carrion set out for dinner. Some were birds that wouldn’t have looked out of place before Eldritch Night, while others were — more fantastic. Nearly every shape capable of flight, and some that should not have been capable, was present and they ranged in size from as small as a sparrow to as large as horses with long, curved beaks and leathery wings. I even caught a glimpse of a wingless serpent slithering between the mass of feather, flesh, and wing.

Creatures rained down upon the deck around me, some full of holes and others missing limbs or with long gashes across their bodies. They weren’t attacking the ship, only each other, but the depth of their panic drove them in every direction without care for their own safety. I heard a rhythmic tattoo as thousands of them collided with the hull of the Yorktown, some with enough force for the vibrations to travel through thirty-thousand tons of steel and concrete and be felt in the soles of my feet.

Almost nothing moved on along the deck, except for the flashes of gunfire from where the Peacekeepers had set up their trademark hexagonal energy shields at key points around the edge of the ship. The rest of the guards and hunters who would normally participate in such defenses were either sheltering inside … or worse.

I gulped as I peered over the edge, but all I could see was the dark cloud of bodies pressing into each other. Not knowing what else to do, I began to run towards the command tower, where I was sure I would find the Captain and Pat. I hadn’t taken two steps before I lost balance as the pitch of the ship shifted once more. If it wasn’t for my high [Reaction] stat, I’m sure I would have eaten a face full of concrete.

The tilt slowly corrected itself as the deck once more became level, but I could hear a whirr coming from below — somewhere in the bowels of the ship. The energy in the air, both eldritch and mana, was more active than normal. It would slow and seemed to come to rest in sluggish pools before jumping around in unpredictable patterns and shapes.

I could sense a similarity between the restless pulsing of the eldritch energy that swam through the air and the thumping of birds colliding with the Yorktown, but it wasn’t exact, and I was already at the limit of my senses, so I dropped the thought. I flicked my wrist to extend my staff, but as I willed the eldritch energy to form into a blade it resisted me. I paused my run to concentrate and was able to conjure a waifish blade of flickering energy, but it pulled on my concentration to maintain it and fizzled away as soon as I became distracted.

“Shit,” I yelled, batting aside a winged eel that flew too close.

Above me, a group of bat-like creatures began crashing into each other, causing a syrupy green liquid to rain down on me that stung my eyes and smelled acrid but with a hint of sweetness. On instinct, I pointed up and yelled, “Arcane Missile!”

Despite the chaos in the ambient mana, the spell worked without a hitch, conjuring nearly a dozen sparks of fiery blue missiles that would each seek out a separate target.

I repeated the spell as I ran towards a line of Peacekeepers who had formed up along the starboard side of the ship. As I moved, hundreds of flashing wisps rained upwards to ignite everything above me like a fluttering canopy of blue flame. Even the greenish blood that drizzled down from the injured creatures was ignited, leaving flaming waterfalls to evaporate into puffs of blue light before striking the ground.

I looked at my [Mana]: 94/109, but it was already recovering.

[Arcane Missile] had once been a staple of my offense, and I felt a bit of glee as I continued to cast it. I became nostalgic for that brief moment of pure joy I had felt after casting magic for the first time — of course, that was before being abducted by the mother of all spiders and dragged into a world that had gone insane. I find it best to focus on the good parts.

My mana regeneration had reached a point where, even with if my mana was somehow exhausted, I could cast [Arcane Missile] nearly every two seconds for an eternity, or at least until fatigue or injury stopped me. It wouldn’t be enough, though. Even if I took out tens of thousands of the flying critters it wouldn’t have reduced the deadly flock by a fraction of a percent.

“Report,” I yelled as I slid between the formation of Peacekeepers.

They were all wearing the bulky black armor that somehow grew like a living thing out of the skintight jumpsuits that made up their daily uniform. Each of the soldiers kept their eyes and rifles firmly trained on the sky, but a male with scarlet skin and a speckling of brown scales across his cheeks pointed with a clawed thumb while still managing to fire with his other hand.

I nodded as I looked toward the tower at the center of the ship. At the top, I could make out gunfire and the glow of a massive spell. [Mana Manipulation] flared and I could feel the skill begin to level just by witnessing whatever was going on up there. The antennae at the peak of the tower were glowing in greenish blue energy that was shaping into complex geometric shapes that swirled and collapsed into themselves.

“Telvy, you better have a plan,” I said.

I launched a volley of [Arcane Missiles] in every direction, easing the assault on the Peacekeepers as much as I could. The alien soldiers kept the same stoic look on their faces, adjusting to more distant targets with ease as I began running towards the center of the ship. A few brief flashes of light made it through the shifting mass of avians like moonlight filtering through seawater. It didn’t matter, the glowing runes at the peak of the tower were beginning to grow and flash in alternating shades of blue and green like a flashing beacon only a mage could see.

I regretted that the Fisher was not there to scout ahead. Was I beginning to miss his strange combination of snark and nihilism?

Just as I reached the entrance to the tower, I paused. The hairs on the back of my head stood up and I looked behind me. There was a shadow, or perhaps it was just a trick of the light creating images as it filtered through the shifting flock of panicked creatures. I couldn’t shake the feeling, however, that something was watching me and the dormant eye in the center of my forehead began to burn as it slowly slid open.

I screaming in pain as I forced the eye closed, though it took a feat of willpower similar to gripping a lump of hot coal with a naked hand. The [Eye of Madness] would show me Truth, but each time I used it the images became permanently burned into my memory like nightmares constantly lingering in the back of my mind. Even with concentrating on [Intellect] and [Focus] as I leveled, I wasn’t sure my mind could survive the process of seeing the Truth for so many creatures.

I turned back toward the hatch, but as the handle spun, I heard a roar rise above the din of beating wings. It was muffled just enough I might have imagined it, but I couldn’t ignore the instinct that something was watching me.

Even as a child I’d considered that my “superpower.” If anyone was talking about me or watching me, I would feel it as a hair-raising tingle up the back of my neck – an instinct that was only amplified by the interference of the System and its skills.

I suppressed the feeling. Of course, I was being watched. Thousands, maybe millions, of beady eyes circled above my head.

As soon as the hatch spun open, I sprinted up the narrow, twisting stairs and pushed past a duo of human guards as I entered the control room at the top of the tower. Only the antennae array and its strangely glowing runes were higher.

“Finn,” Pat said, turning away from a display panel. “Do you have any idea what is going on?”

The Captain turned to acknowledge me but held up a large, calloused hand to silence me as he spoke into a handheld radio.

“Sergeant,” he yelled. “Repeat … can you hear me? Over.”

“Is there a problem?” I asked, leaning against one of the thin metal walls.

“A problem?” he said. “My ship is going down and all you can think to do to help is prop up the walls with your skinny ass.”

Captain Smith grabbed me by my coat, dragging my heels against the wall as he lifted me. “Where the hell have you been? I’m missing my lieutenants, my XO is dead, and Bridgette isn’t responding to my calls … what the hell have you brought to my doorstep?”

“I know as much as you,” I said, pushing his hands back. “And Bridgette is fine. Or was. I left her in the infirmary to look after the wounded. Worthy is one of them.”

I heard Pat gasp, but her eyes never left the screen she was looking at. I wasn’t sure what the machine she operated did, but it looked to have been made in the 80s and I couldn’t see how it could possibly help our situation.

“Isn’t there some voodoo you can do to fix this?” the captain asked.

“I’ve tried,” I shook my head. “I can barely even hold onto any eldritch energy that isn’t in direct contact with my body and mana is just as unreliable. Only the system spells are working. We need Tiller, or better yet his master.”

“The archmage is doing something,” Captain Smith grunted, “had the hairs on my arm prickling as soon as she started. I imagine you mage types must sense something … and Tiller is in engineering working on some fix, but that mumbo jumbo is not my wheelhouse. Radios aren’t going through and these damn sound-powered phones these old military tubs use aren’t worth a damn with the hull ringing like a fucking bell.”

“What’s Telvy doing?” I was yelling as the noise from outside grew worse. “And what do you know about this shadow?”

“Shadow?” the captain said. “Aye, before this mess something like that took out some of my men. Was so fast we couldn’t track — I sent Worthy to find you after it lopped off Pikman’s head … but then, well you see where we are now?”

“They must be connected.”

The Captain only grunted as he turned back toward the cracked glass at the front of the bridge, still barking orders into an unresponsive radio. I could feel the lines of energy pouring out of him, seeming to grow in power even now. The connection I had forged between him and the crew seemed to have spread to the Yorktown itself, and I could feel his emotion flowing outward as something else flowed back. I suspected his rage might have literally been the only thing keeping the ship together.

I stepped out onto the catwalk that surrounded the bridge and joined the few remaining crew members who were doing their best to keep away the monsters with nothing more than bravery and good old-fashioned human firepower. Dozens of glowing missiles joined the attack and I could feel the crew’s relief after receiving the first few seconds of rest they had had since the attack began.

“You,” I said, pointing to a man in torn jeans a florescent green tank top. “What have you seen?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “They took Marcus, just plucked him up and ate him right in front of us. I could see. He just got married, you know? Before all …”

“Focus, sailor,” I said. “Out there is something else. These monsters aren’t attacking on their own, this isn’t coordinated enough for that. Something else is driving this … what have you seen?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head. “Just a shadow. Just a shadow. Just, just …”

“A shadow,” I said.