The nose of a beautiful ship parted the black water of the Antarctic coast with the ease of a knife through room temperature butter. The ship was an impossible size, making the titanic waves that crashed into the ships hull seem like the legs on an ant trying to climb an ancient tree. The ship was the epitome of the Northern Empire and its research of the Fragments of the Moon. Powered by a single fragment the size of a small cottage, the ship had enough power to make the trip between the Earth’s poles countless times.
After three dreadful weeks, the behemoth of a ship was finally nearing its final destination. The entire ship, crew and passengers included, was being sent into Aura territory as part of a peace offering. The product that came to fruition after three generations of research on the Moon Fragments, was being sent as nothing more than a hopeful gift to the mortal enemies of the Northern Empire. How could it not.
The Northern Empire has tried everything. We tried restricting Aura’s access to The Wastes. Aura responded by simply not leaving their continent for a whole decade. An. Entire. Decades. Every envoy we sent was never heard or seen from again. Every single militaristic threat has been ignored. Every plea, every cry, every demand, every request we have ever made has been met with stone cold silence. The only response we have ever gotten was the one time we made the mistake of attempting to fight those freakish devils.
A shorter, bald headed, and tanned middle aged man stood in a room. Captain Icaris, leader of the large ship, which was aptly named the N.E. Sacrifice, stared out over the midnight waves from his outlook. The room was furnished sparingly, with a large viewing area and a couple of cushy chairs in the back. He pondered his mission and the circumstances leading up to this unfortunate situation.
We should have taken the hint after they lasted thirty years blockaded from leaving Antarctica. But what did we do? We sent in an entire elite secret fighting force in an attempt to take over Aura from the inside. For the sake of their survival, there was to be zero communication until they had secured enough information for a safe evacuation or they took over the country. For three years, we waited for a sign. We got one.
One day a strange metal box with an indent for a hand appeared on the capitals doorstep. On it was a note written in simple handwriting. ‘Fuck off’. When a servant came across the box, he accidentally put his hand into the indent. The box and the servant both immediately crumbled to ash and were swept away by the wind. A disturbing scene remained. What appeared to be a necklace made of pearls with multicolored dots replaced the spot where the box once stood. A bio scan of the necklace revealed bone chilling news. The pearls were not pearls. They were the right eyes of every single agent on the secret fighting force that we had sent. To say that this disturbed the higher ups was an understatement. The incident showed them two things. That Aura was much more developed than we had thought. And that they had already infiltrated the Northern Empire.
So now the Empire was making one final last ditch effort to rectify their mistakes. Over four generations of innovation and improvement to their research, the empire had created a magnum opus. And this magnum opus was being used as nothing more than a desperate attempt to stop any more damages from being brought down on the empire.
A loud noise from behind startled Captain Icaris out of his thoughts.
“Sir, I believe that we will be make contact with the Aurian forces in the morning.”
Turning around, Icaris was greeted by a familiar visage. A striking young man with buzzed blonde hair and breathtaking blue eyes saluted the captain. His presentation was spotless with several medallions decorating his crimson uniform as he stood at attention in the doorway leading out of the outlook.
“Captain, we are nearing our target position. With your permission I will begin informing the rest of the ship to prepare for the morning.”
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The captain nodded his head.
“Thank you Rush. Be sure to let them know that not even I know what awaits us tomorrow.”
Rush bowed curtly and left. A few moments later the comms system buzzed.
PARDON THE LATE NIGHT ANNOUNCEMENT. IN THE MORNING WE WILL REACH WATERS DESIGNATED AS AURIAN TERRITORY. PREPARE YOURSELVES.
The announcement repeated three times while Icaris returned to his post overlooking the midnight sky. A short moment later, Rush was standing next to him as well. Handing him a cup of coffee, a rare luxury compared to the caffeine patches that were the standard, Rush smiled lightly and joined him in gazing upon the sky, ship, and sea.
Taking a sip of the black brew, Icaris asked,
“You know we are only allowed to drink this on special occasions, so fill me in. What’s the occasion.”
Without a single crack appearing on his stoic visage, Rush responded calmly.
“Well, it’s because you’re about to die.”
Something about the way that Rush said it sent a slight shudder through Captain Icaris. It was almost imperceptible, and not even the cup of coffee hand was stirred, but Rush still noticed.
“Don’t be so surprised. I’m sure you figured out that we were silently there, among your ranks during this voyage.”
“I was not one hundred percent sure, but I had definitely become suspicious. I’m not sure how to explain it, but the air of the ship had subtly changed from when we left. It had seemed optimistic and wary as we left the port.”
Sometime while Icaris had been speaking, Rush had turned to face him. His hands were empty and were pressed flat against each other. Icaris continued talking as he looked down at the cup of coffee in his hands.
“However, for the last week or so, it was different. Less energetic, and more cold. Like the energy filling the crew had slowly left them. But that was the problem. They still acted the exact same as they had when we unmoored the sacrifice. Tell me, how long have you been a traitor. And how many members of my crew are traitors with you.”
As Icaris looked up from his coffee and turned to face Rush, he was so startled that he dropped his coffee. Two pairs of eyes looking at him. Two of the same pair of eyes. Two identical copies of Rush were staring at Icaris with a gleeful tint in their eyes.
They both spoke.
“We are one. We are family. We are Rush. Rush is us.”
Dropping his coffee, Icaris lurched back.
“You are not Rush. Where is the real Rush.”
There was silence.
Then a faint noise escaped the Rush’s lips.
They chuckled.
“Where do you think dumbass? His body is most likely decomposed or in some sea monsters guts right now. We tossed his corpse over the edge a long time ago. Along with the Others.”
With that, they both moved faster than Icaris’s eyes could follow. To him it appeared that in an instant, they had both teleported and impaled him through the chest simultaneously.
As Icaris coughed up blood, the Rush on the right spoke evenly as the Rush on the left smiled and took a deep breath.
“Since you’re going to die anyway, I guess there’s no harm in telling you. If you must know, this world is not the only one out there. Those who overcome the tribulations of The Estuary are granted power beyond human comprehension. I am one of those survivors. I am also one of the weakest when it comes to combat. My challenge was the easiest one to clear. And yet to think, this entire ship was taken over by me alone.”
Icaris’ vision was slowly fading, and everything felt cold. His senses started to dull, and it was hard for him to hear everything.
“We are here to… sacrifice… Vanished… complete… Estuary… bring the… GOD.”
Icaris’ body fell to the floor as he Rush’s pulled their hands out of his chest. As he took his last breaths, he wondered what would happen to the ship if it didn’t have a captain. His question was answered.
As he gazed upon the doppelg?ngers standing above him, the one on the rights face started to ripple. As his lungs were destroyed, Icaris could not gasp, but he would have if he could.
The last thing Icarus saw was the spitting image he saw in the mirror every morning, set its foot wearing Rush’s uniform on his face. The copy smiled and stepped down.
And thus, Captain Icaris of the N. E. Sacrifice killed himself.