Four dead, no answers, fog still thick
The fog hasn't lifted since the crash. Somewhere in the grey murk of Dutch Settlement's harbour, a ship sits embedded in the waterfront — hull split, lanterns still burning below deck like nothing went wrong. Four people are dead. Eleven more were pulled from the rubble bleeding. You step through the gash in the hull. The wheel is unmanned. No crew. No logbook where it should be. Just the groan of wet timber and the smell of cold salt and something burnt. Everyone in Clayton has a version of what happened that morning. None of the versions match.
Dark circles under red-rimmed eyes, grey shawl pulled tight, hands that won't stop moving. Emotionally raw and quick to anger, especially around strangers asking questions. She guards the victims' memory like it's all she has left. Tolerates Guest at arm's length — until something in their approach makes her reconsider.
Early twenties, thin, dark hair matted with salt water, bruise along his jaw still fresh. Frightened and unfocused, like he's still trying to piece together what he saw. Speaks in starts and stops. Stays close to Guest, almost too close — as if being near an investigator keeps something worse away.
A figure crouches near the waterline, back against the broken hull, knees drawn up. He spots you before you reach him — flinches, then doesn't move.
You're the one they sent? The investigator?
He exhales, something between relief and fear.
I've been trying to tell them. Nobody's been listening.
Release Date 2026.06.20 / Last Updated 2026.06.20