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The helicopter cut steadily through the damp coastal air, its blades churning the gray mist into slow spirals. Below, the sea stretched endlessly, dark and cold, reflecting the gloomy sky like a sheet of broken steel. The steady hum of the engine filled the cabin, masking the unease that quietly spread among the passengers.
Claire sat upright, fingers intertwined on her lap. She stared out through the window for a long time before finally speaking, her voice soft and hesitant.
"We… are we really leaving them behind?" she asked.
Jack glanced at her, the corners of his mouth lifting into an easy smile.
"Relax," he said calmly. "People who are meant to live will live."
Claire lowered her gaze and nodded lightly.
"Mm."
Jack looked forward again, eyes half-lidded, watching the fog roll past.
"Once we reach Arcadia, I hope you can recover your memories."
A dark gleam flashed deep within his eyes, gone in an instant.
If Claire truly regained everything… how would she look at him then?
The thought sent a thrill through him—anticipation sharp and intoxicating.
Claire smiled faintly, her expression filled with quiet hope.
"I also want to recover my memories as soon as possible. That way… I can remember everything about us."
In her heart, she was certain of one thing: before all this chaos, she and Jack must have been happy. Otherwise, why did she feel such instinctive trust? She longed to retrieve those memories, to confirm that belief.
The fog ahead began to thin.
Out of the mist emerged a colossal silhouette—an enormous steamship drifting silently on the sea. Its steel body was dark and imposing, like a floating fortress abandoned by time.
The helicopter descended carefully and landed on the deck with a dull thud. Jack, Claire, and the White Queen stepped out, the vast emptiness immediately pressing down on them.
"Why is there no one here?" Claire asked, scanning the deck.
"Maybe they're hiding inside," Jack replied casually. "We'll know after we check."
Their footsteps echoed unnaturally loud as they moved forward, the ship eerily silent.
---
Captain's Cabin
"What did you find?" Claire asked after a brief search.
"Nothing," Jack said, shaking his head. "There's no one here."
Claire frowned and turned toward the control panels. The monitors glowed steadily.
"That's strange. The ship's power and fuel systems are running normally. A ship this big… how could it be empty?"
She scrolled through the digital logbook.
"It says nearly two thousand people boarded this ship. Where did they go?"
"Come with me," the White Queen said suddenly.
"Where are we going?" Claire asked.
The White Queen led them down into the lower decks. The lighting dimmed, shadows stretching long across the metal walls. Claire switched on her flashlight, its beam cutting through the darkness.
"We're here," the White Queen said, stopping.
Before them stood a sealed iron gate. In its center was a familiar emblem.
Claire raised the flashlight—and froze.
The Umbrella Corporation logo stared back at her.
Her body trembled uncontrollably.
"Umbrella… Corporation?"
Jack's lips curved faintly.
"Wife, are you remembering something?"
Fragments surged into Claire's mind—broken and sharp.
Kayaks.
Cold Alaskan water.
Hope… followed by betrayal.
She remembered now. She and Jill had believed they were being rescued—only to be captured. She had escaped by chance.
"This is a trap," Claire said coldly.
"You're right," Jack replied smoothly. "An Umbrella Corporation trap."
Claire turned slowly toward him, anger and pain burning in her eyes.
"Jack… I thought you deceived me. Lied to me about everything. I trusted you."
Her voice trembled, but her resolve hardened.
"I must kill you."
Jack chuckled softly.
"Killing your husband would be treason, wife. How can you say such words?"
"Don't call me your wife!" Claire shouted.
"I'm not your wife! You deceived me! I trusted you—gave you everything—and you lied!"
Her chest felt tight, as if her heart were cracking.
This was nothing like the memory recovery she had imagined.
She had expected warmth.
What returned instead was hatred.
"Jack," she said hoarsely, raising her weapon, "I must kill you."
The White Queen watched eagerly from the side.
"Is this the legendary catfight? Interesting."
Jack smiled faintly.
"Wife… are you really willing to kill me?"
"Don't call me that!" Claire yelled.
"You think I don't dare?"
Jack stepped forward, pressing his abdomen against the gun barrel.
"Then do it."
"This is you seeking death!" Claire pulled the trigger.
Click.
Nothing happened.
Her finger trembled violently. She tried again—but couldn't pull it.
Jack's smile deepened.
"Wife, your hand is shaking. You can't kill me."
"Shut up!" Claire shouted, forcing herself to breathe.
"Didn't you want to kill me?" Jack asked calmly.
Her gaze was chaotic—rage, grief, confusion, and something she refused to acknowledge.
"You think too highly of yourself," she said coldly.
"Your life means nothing to me."
"I'm waiting," Jack replied softly.
Claire's expression hardened. She pulled the trigger again.
Bang!
The shot fired—but missed badly, striking the metal wall far away.
The White Queen tilted her head.
"This level of marksmanship… it's impressive in a different way."
Clang!
The weapon slipped from Claire's hand and hit the floor.
She sank down slowly, shaking her head again and again.
"Why… why can't I do it?"
Jack squatted in front of her, smiling darkly, not touching her face.
"Because you can't bear to kill me. Wife… I am your husband."
"Don't touch me," Claire whispered.
Jack withdrew his hand.
"Then explain why your shot was so far off."
"That was luck," Claire snapped weakly.
"Next time, I won't miss."
"It seems discipline is required," Jack said calmly.
"Wife… are you ready?"
He reached for her.
"Let go of me! Let go!" Claire struggled fiercely.
Jack turned his head slightly.
"White Queen, go find somewhere to play. What I'm about to do isn't suitable for children."
The White Queen rolled her eyes.
"Perverted strange uncle. Go ahead, ML. I know exactly what you're doing."
Jack carried Claire away, her protests echoing down the corridor.
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[ HERE IS A SEXUAL / INTIMATE SCENE – OMITTED AS REQUESTED ]
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The steel corridors of the steamship echoed with distant, unsettling sounds for a long time. The ship drifted silently, swallowed by fog, as if the sea itself were holding its breath.
Far above, the Arcadia floated onward—quiet, cold, and filled with secrets yet to surface.