(3rd Person POV)
After returning to Franklindale, Arthur and the crew settled into a five-star hotel to prepare for the Old Rose sequence. For the first ti in days, the cast and crew had a chance to unwind—so lounging in the spa, others enjoying massages from the hotel staff.
In one of the private massage rooms, Firfel and Apollonia lay side by side, wrapped in towels as expert hands worked away the tension in their muscles. Apollonia let out a soft, content sigh, eyes closed, her body lting into the table.
Firfel glanced at her and smiled. "You look like you’re in heaven," she teased gently. "Do you enjoy it here more than the castle?"
Apollonia didn’t answer right away. Eventually, she murmured, "I do. I love it here. The filming... everyone’s kind to . Not just polite—but genuinely kind."
She paused, then added, "At Morningstar Castle, people were nice too, but... it always felt forced. Like they were just following orders. And it was so boring there—magic, math, constant lessons."
Firfel chuckled softly. "Mmm. But you’ve been a bit quiet lately."
Apollonia’s expression shifted. She exhaled slowly. "I’ve just been thinking... about the ship." Her voice lowered at the end, conscious of the masseuses still in the room.
Firfel didn’t seem bothered. "The ship, huh?" she said with a small grin. "Don’t worry. I talked with Arthur. He told he’d bring Titanic back—good as new."
Apollonia’s eyes fluttered open in surprise. "Wait... he’s building another one?"
Firfel shook her head. "No. Not another one. The sa ship. The one we sailed on."
Apollonia blinked, confused. "But... it sank. It’s gone, isn’t it?"
Firfel just smiled. "If Arthur says he’ll bring it back, then I believe him."
Apollonia turned her head slightly, watching her with a puzzled expression. There was sothing about the way Firfel said it—calm, certain, almost reverent.
"...You really trust him, don’t you?" she asked quietly.
Firfel didn’t reply right away. She simply closed her eyes and smiled again. "With all my heart."
---
Unbeknownst to the Hellfire crew, a storm was brewing in the dia. Reporters had caught wind of sothing unusual—leaked by a few too-talkative extras from the Titanic set.
"The old relic ship, Grand Whale, acquired and renad Titanic by Hellfire Studios, was reportedly sunk to the bottom of the sea for a film scene!"
"The Titanic never returned with the Hellfire crew! Did they really sink a multimillion-dollar vessel for art?"
"A few million dollars—gone? All for a movie?"
Headlines exploded across newspapers and TV networks. Talk shows debated. Online forums went feral.
Public reaction was swift:
"They just bought that ship for 4.5 million global dollars... and sunk it?! Damn."
"Even if that’s pocket change for Hellfire, it’s still insane."
"Wasteful. Completely ridiculous. Who does that?!"
Outrage wasn’t limited to Hellbook.
Fans of the Grand Whale—many who’d once sailed aboard it—were furious. So marched straight to Hellfire’s Franklindale Branch, waving protest signs and demanding answers.
Even the ship’s forr owner, Whale Line Heritage, released a somber statent. At Liberty Port, their head, Ozias Storm, stood silently by the sea, the wind tugging at his coat. His eyes searched the horizon where the ship used to dock—now just empty water.
---
Inside the Hellfire camp, chaos erupted.
Production of the Old Rose sequence was temporarily halted. Swarms of reporters and angry civilians crowded the hotel, the streets, even the set periter—shouting questions, demanding a statent.
Hellfire employees were instructed not to comnt.
But Arthur broke the silence.
Standing before a wall of flashing caras, he delivered a single, composed sentence:
"The Grand Whale is doing just fine. In a few days, it will return to Liberty Port and reopen as a luxury cruise."
The statent stunned everyone—including his own cast and crew.
Behind the scenes, whispers broke out:
"Wait, what? Isn’t the ship... gone?"
"Is he bluffing?"
"Boss Arthur wouldn’t lie, would he...?"
None of them knew the truth.
---
That sa night, under a moonlit sky, Arthur used the Bracelet of Lifeblood Veins and vanished from his suite in a flash of energy.
He reappeared halfway across the world—standing atop the Atlantic Ocean, just above the hidden sanctuary of the Sirens.
The sea beneath him shimred. He stepped forward, reaching the edge of the invisible do shielding their territory. Then, he pulsed his magical signature.
A mont later, the water stirred.
From beneath, the Sirens surfaced—Ligeia among them, her hair flowing in the current. Her eyes widened.
"Did he just... appear out of nowhere?"
"I thought he left with the ship... What’s he doing back here?"
The Sirens murmured in awe.
Ligeia swam closer, lowering her gaze with growing respect.
’That spell... that power—it’s teleportation,’ she realized. ’The lost technique of the ancient gods. He’s mastered it...’
Arthur looked her in the eye and spoke calmly.
"I’m here to rebuild the ship."
Ligeia bowed her head respectfully. "We’ll do everything we can to help," she said. "If you want, we can carry the wreckage to the surface—"
"No need," Arthur replied with a calm smile.
He raised his hand.
In an instant, an invisible force surged outward. A gust of wind exploded from his position, yet the sea remained eerily still. The air thickened with pressure—mysterious and heavy. Ligeia and her sisters instinctively retreated a few ters back.
Beside her, Rafa’s eyes widened. "Lady Ligeia... the energy coming from Teacher—it’s not just strong. It’s... unfamiliar. It reminds of the ancient artifact left behind by the Sea God."
Ligeia’s brows lifted in shock. "The artifact infused with the Sea God’s residual essence? Are you saying Arthur is using the sa kind of power?"
Rafa shook her head slowly, eyes glowing faintly with her sensor magic. "Not exactly. The Sea God’s power flowed with the tides. But Teacher Arthur’s energy... it’s raw. Pure wind elental magic. But within it... there’s sothing else I can’t identify. Sothing beyond elental understanding—"
She was cut off as the ocean trembled beneath them.
Suddenly, the sea bulged. A mound of water rose unnaturally, parting to reveal sothing massive breaking the surface.
A wrecked ship.
The Titanic’s broken remains floated upward—slowly, steadily—suspended by Arthur’s power.
Gasps echoed around the do.
"He—He’s lifting it?! With magic alone?!"
"That’s impossible!"
"Teacher Arthur is incredible!"
Ligeia’s eyes locked on Arthur. He was standing motionless, arm outstretched, cloak rustling in the silent wind. Not a trace of effort showed on his face.
Then, with a soft murmur, he spoke:
"Entertainnt Sovereignty: Restoration Rhapsody."
The words rippled through the air like a command from the gods.
Before their eyes, the shattered hull began to shift. Cracked beams aligned, jagged steel lted and reford, ornate railings reappeared. Decks reconnected. Lights flickered back to life.
The wreckage wasn’t just repaired.
It was being rewound in ti.
Piece by piece, the Titanic was restored—not to how it was after the crash, but to its pristine glory. The grandeur of its golden age returned, gleaming beneath the moonlight.
The Sirens watched in stunned silence, mouths agape.
And within minutes—it was done.
The Titanic floated gently above the sea, whole and gleaming as if it had never fallen.
Arthur lowered his hand, and the great ship settled softly onto the ocean’s surface.
A light breeze passed through.
Silence followed.
Then Rafa whispered, breathless, "That wasn’t restoration... that was resurrection."
Ligeia floated in silence, eyes wide with awe.
’So much power...’ she swallowed hard. ’Good thing I never offended Teacher. If we had, we’d be as good as dead.’
A shiver ran down her spine. She felt genuinely lucky.
As for Arthur, he hovered near the restored ship with a faint smile on his lips, arms folded.
’One hundred thousand Divine Points well spent,’ he thought. ’Restoration Rhapsody... it can rebuild anything. Places, relics, artifacts... even a planet—if I master it fully.’
He floated down to the bow of the Titanic, his boots landing gently on the polished deck. He reached out and brushed his fingers across the railing with a smile.
"Good to see you again, friend," he murmured.
This spot—the bow—had always been his favorite. His and Firfel’s.
After a quiet mont, he turned toward the Sirens and gave them a wave.
"Well then, I’ll be going," he said casually. "I’ll co back and teach you more about singing later. But for now... I have a ship to return."
Ligeia and her sisters nodded respectfully, still too stunned to speak.
Arthur glanced at the horizon and suppressed his divine aura—reining it in from godhood to the subtle hum of a demigod. Enough to stay hidden from other powerful beings.
Even so, the spell he cast was imnse.
With a motion of his hand, the Titanic began to move—silently and gracefully—carried by his magic across the ocean under the cover of night.
~~~
2:00 A.M. – Liberty Port
The sky was dark and the docks were empty, save for a few workers finishing their shift. No fanfare. No lights.
Arthur gently lowered the Titanic back into its original dock, the hull gliding into place as if it had never left. No creak, no splash—only stillness.
Then, without a word, he disappeared—vanishing into the shadows and returning to his hotel.
~~~
Morning.
The sun rose lazily over Liberty Port, casting golden light over the docks.
A dockworker carrying his toolbox paused mid-step. He stared at the ship now towering before him.
"...Wait a second," he mumbled, scratching the back of his head. "Was this thing here yesterday?"
Others stopped to look.
Gasps. Confusion. Stamred questions.
But one thing was clear: the Titanic was back.
And no one had any idea how.
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