The Medusa Warship cruised forward, randomly choosing a direction as it sliced through the waves.
After about an hour, they reached the edge of the fog barrier Weston had spoken of.
Matthew and Ryan stepped out of the cabin, their eyes fixed on the dense mist ahead. Thick layers of fog blanketed the horizon. Neither Matthew nor Ryan could see anything beyond the veil.
Ryan leaned toward Matthew and whispered, "Matteo, do you really have a plan? Because this place is giving me the creeps."
Matthew gave a small flick of his fingers. In an instant, nine silver needles shot out, darting straight into the fog. His expression shifted slightly as his fingers moved again. The needles zipped back out just as quickly as they'd gone in.
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