The ocean, a place that hid horrors in its depths, stretched out seemingly endlessly beneath the boundless sky.
Its blue expanse, a body of water reflecting like a mirror, showcased the sun's golden hues, creating the illusion that it could go on forever.
However, on this particular day, the presence of a lone vessel disturbed the serene beauty of the sea.
A ship, reminiscent of Viking craftsmanship, cut through the gentle waves with determination. The uniformed rows of oarsmen propelled it forward with each repeat action, their muscles flexing in unison as they maintained a steady rhythm.
.
.
.
Opening his eyes slowly, Lucius found himself in the same position, his back pressed against the ship's walls, rocking gently with the motion of the waves.