In ancient scriptures, the Leviathan was described as a creature of absolute terror, a serpent so massive it could coil around the entire world, its scales impenetrable to any weapon forged by man. The Book of Job spoke of it as God's greatest creation, something beyond human comprehension or control. A monster that lived in the deepest parts of the ocean, waiting.

  Some texts claimed it was chaos given form. Others said it represented the untamable forces of nature that humanity could never truly conquer, no matter how advanced they became.

  The name wasn't chosen randomly for this ship.

  Alexander Thorne knew exactly what he was building when he commissioned the LeVIATHAN. It wasn’t just a vessel, but a prison. A trap disguised as luxury, designed to swallow the powerful whole and never let them leave.

  And the architect of that trap, the genius who made it unbreakable, impossible to escape, wasn’t Alexander himself.

  It was his eldest son.

  Arthur Thorne.

  ***

  [Flashback — Jacob's POV]

  My brother was different from me in every way possible.

  Where I was outgoing, he was withdrawn. Where I sought connection with anyone who'd talk to me, he preferred isolation and study. Where I read books to escape, he read them mechanically with the sole objective of absorbing every piece of technical knowledge he could find and turn it into something practical.

  Arthur was a prodigy. The kind that appears once in a generation, maybe less. By the time he was twelve, he understood energy theory better than most masters. By fifteen, he'd published anonymous papers on energy manipulation that revolutionized how fighters, even Candidates, approached defensive techniques.

  And by seventeen, he'd created the Golden Cage.

  The barrier surrounding the ship wasn’t just strong or exceptionally stable—it was perfect. Every calculation had been optimized, every potential weakness reinforced, until the structure became functionally unbreakable.

  Our father recognized Arthur's talent immediately and encouraged it. He praised him, gave him resources and freedom that I never received, made it clear which son mattered.

  Arthur trapped me inside his barriers sometimes when we were younger. He called it real-time practice. He said he wanted to test the integrity of his constructions by seeing how long it took me to break through. I'd pound against invisible walls until my fists bled while he watched with clinical detachment, taking notes on energy distribution and structural stability.

  He never apologized afterward, never seemed to understand why I'd be upset. To him, I was just another test subject. Another variable in his equations.

  Even when I awakened as a Candidate, I didn't receive the same treatment as my brother.

  I was nothing special by comparison. I didn’t develop any Aspect, and my vote accumulation remained slow because every vote the wealthy elite offered at my father’s gatherings, whether as birthday gifts or in exchange for favors or money, was always handed to Arthur.

  The only votes I received came from friends I made aboard the ship and some rich men after I fulfilled their needs.

  …

  Not in any weird way!

  I was pretty good with girls, so I could at least introduce lonely businessmen to attractive women in exchange for a couple of votes.

  (That's pimping, Arata thought, but kept his expression neutral.)

  ***

  Jacob lifted his shirt just enough to reveal the lower part of his abdomen.

  444.

  The number was displayed just above his waist, glowing faintly.

  He'd managed to accumulate a pretty high number of votes despite his circumstances. Rich people really did have it easy when it came to trading favors for power. Well, at least that meant he could fight if anything went wrong; he wasn't completely helpless.

  "So as I was saying…" Jacob pulled his shirt back on, his voice taking on a harder edge. "My brother is the real deal. He set this barrier—the Golden Cage—that surrounds the entire ship."

  He met Arata's eyes, making sure the next part landed properly.

  "If you were under the assumption that it was unbreakable from the outside, you need to understand something: from the interior, it's at least ten times stronger."

  Arata felt something cold settle in his stomach.

  Ten times stronger.

  That meant the barrier he'd barely managed to breach at the boarding gate, the one that had required him to concentrate all his power into a single, devastating attack, was actually the weakest point. Inside the ship, that same defensive layer was reinforced to the point where even exponentially stronger attacks would just dissipate, harmlessly, against its surface.

  "It's the strongest and most effective trapping technique," Jacob said quietly. "The Golden Cage. When someone is trapped inside, it’s absolutely impossible to escape. No one has ever managed to get out of it once the barrier fully activates."

  “Ever.”

  That word carried weight. How many people had Arthur trapped over the years? How many had tried to break through and failed? How many bodies were at the bottom of the ocean because they'd exhausted themselves against such an unbreakable wall?

  But something didn't add up.

  This ship was full of some of the strongest people in the world. Arata had seen them at the ballroom gathering—some of those wealthy people were probably Candidates that were strong enough to easily destroy the ship if they wanted to. It seemed unlikely they would easily get trapped without retaliating.

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  So why is the ship intact? Why is it in perfect shape?

  There were no signs of desperate combat or massive energy releases that would have resulted from powerful Candidates fighting for their lives. Maybe they weren't actually trapped like Jacob was claiming. Maybe this was another layer of misdirection.

  "Hey, Jacob."

  The golden-haired boy looked up, pulled from whatever deep thinking was occupying him.

  "The other people, the ones who were at the party yesterday. They aren't trapped, right? Given their strength, I can't see how anyone could easily restrain them, not even with an unbreakable cage. They could simply wreak havoc inside the ship and force Arthur to surrender, or even beat him up directly until he gives up."

  Jacob thought deeply before responding, his expression sad.

  "I told you, Arata... Anyone who enters this ship never sees the outside world again. Those rich people accepted it long ago. They can't do anything about it."

  The words hung in the air like a death sentence.

  Arata pictured a giant sea serpent coiling around the ship with its long, viscous body, scales gleaming in dark water, constricting slowly until nothing could breathe. The image was vivid enough to make his skin crawl.

  But wait a minute.

  "What about the Harbor Group in all of this? Are they trapped as well, or are they part of this?"

  Arata couldn't imagine the Boss, the man who had displayed such overwhelming power when they first met in his apartment, getting trapped so easily. He didn’t seem like the kind to put himself in danger without the absolute guarantee that it was perfectly safe.

  There had to be something both he and Jacob were missing. Some piece of information that would make the picture complete.

  Jacob shook his head. He had no idea of who Arata was talking about. For him, “the Boss” was just another unfortunate rich man who fell into the same trap as the others.

  "Oh, and I almost forgot," Jacob continued, "the main function of the barrier isn't just to stop people from escaping—it also works as a jamming system. My brother controls anything going in or out, including communication waves, radio, satellite signals, and even certain types of energy-based telepathy that some people develop."

  "So he automatically shuts down any signal sent to the outside?" Arata's mind was already running through the implications, looking for gaps in the coverage.

  Wait a minute.

  Didn't the phone ring a couple of times before being shut down by Arthur's ability? That could only mean the signal had gotten through initially, connecting with Kaito's phone long enough to trigger the ringing sound before being forcibly terminated.

  Which meant Arthur hadn't blocked it immediately.

  He had chosen to let it connect for those brief seconds.

  "THEY GOT KAITO'S LOCATION."

  The realization hit Arata like a physical blow. His chest tightened, and his voice came out louder than intended, sounding both angry and scared at the same time.

  This time he was extremely furious. He had been played like a fool—like an absolute amateur who'd stumbled into his first real operation without understanding the rules.

  Jacob looked at him, confused, until he finally realized. Kaito was the guy Arata was going to call, probably his closest ally. Jacob remembered Arata’s expression when he handed over the call—he had been full of ecstasy, as if this Kaito guy was going to take care of everything without even struggling. He wondered how strong Kaito was, but felt guilty at the same time, knowing he could have stopped Arata from calling his friend, since he had known from the beginning that it would be pointless.

  Jacob walked over to Arata, trying to comfort him. He tapped his shoulder and told him everything would be fine. Arata cycled through a storm of emotions, his anger slowly turning into sadness, and then into desperation. These past events had hit him hard, which probably explained his emotional instability.

  "And Mika in all of this?" Arata's voice was lower now, nearly a whisper, as if he were talking to himself. "Why did they bring her here?"

  ***

  Right now, in another room deep within the ship's lower decks, Alexander Thorne sat in a leather chair, exactly like his son a couple of feet from his room—the control room. He was thinking, running through contingencies and backup plans with the kind of methodical patience that came from years of manipulating powerful people.

  His eldest son Arthur was in the adjacent chamber, actively monitoring the barrier like he'd been doing for the past couple of years. The Golden Cage required constant maintenance, continuous adjustments to account for the ship's movement and the various energy signatures of everyone aboard. It was exhausting work, but Arthur had never complained even once. It was his job, his duty, his purpose.

  And somewhere else in the ship, in a room neither Arata nor Jacob had discovered yet, Mika was waiting, her fate already decided by people who saw her as nothing more than a useful tool.

  ***

  "I can't let that happen!"

  Arata slammed his fist down on the desk, the impact loud enough to make Jacob flinch. The wood didn't crack, but the sound echoed through the study like a gunshot.

  Jacob's eyes widened at the sudden explosion of emotion.

  "No matter what happens, I must save Mika."

  Arata's voice was low, intense, carrying a conviction that made it clear this wasn't negotiable.

  "No matter what it takes."

  ***

  [Flashback — Young Arata and Mika]

  Arata was seven years old, sitting alone in the school courtyard during lunch break. Other kids were playing together in clusters, but he'd never been good at making friends. He had always preferred his own company, avoiding the complicated social rules everyone else seemed to understand instinctively.

  Then a girl with purple hair sat down next to him without asking permission.

  "Hi! I'm Mika. Why are you eating alone?"

  What?

  Arata had looked at her, confused by the directness.

  "Because I want to."

  "That's sad. Nobody should eat alone." She opened her lunch box and started pulling out food. "Here, you can have half of my sandwich."

  What’s the deal with her? Is she insane?

  Arata had stared at the offered sandwich like it was some kind of trap. People didn't just give things away for free. There was always an angle, always something they wanted in return.

  "Why?"

  “Because we're friends now!" Mika said it with such certainty, as if friendship could exist simply because she declared it.

  His eyes widened.

  What is she talking about?

  He smirked.

  You know what? I’m gonna play her game.

  “Nah. I already have mine." Arata raised the sandwich in his other hand, feeling a small satisfaction at having a legitimate excuse to refuse this stranger’s attempt to help.

  She laughed at his weird behavior. "You’re strange, Arata."

  She knows… My name?

  A new, strange feeling appeared in his chest. It was the first time another kid his age had truly acknowledged him.

  People had always kept their distance, unable to understand his odd behaviors. But Mika had changed something deep inside him in a single instant—something no one had ever done before.

  And now she was trapped somewhere on this ship, waiting for him to fail her, just as he had failed Takeda.

  ***

  [Present]

  "Jacob." Arata's voice had shifted again, emotion locked down, replaced by the cold tactical thinking that came naturally when his back was against the wall. "You know this ship like the back of your hand, right?"

  Jacob nodded slowly, understanding where this was going.

  "Every corridor. Every room. Every hidden passage and maintenance tunnel. I've had nineteen years to explore every inch of this place."

  "Perfect."

  Even if the situation felt desperate, even if the odds were stacked impossibly high and escape seemed functionally impossible, Arata had enough information to construct a plan now. He would uncover the truth and finally learn why the Harbor Group was here, as well as what they were planning to do with Mika.

  And then he'd tear through whatever obstacles stood between him and getting her out.

  "Here's what we're going to do."

  Jacob leaned forward, listening carefully as Arata began to speak.