Chap­ter 1 — The Rift begins not with calm but with chaos. The still­ness of the har­bor is shat­tered by gun­fire, as a hid­den weapon mid­ship unleash­es a dead­ly storm upon the sur­prised Dyak and Malay attack­ers. In sec­onds, they’re forced to retreat, their bold advance bro­ken by the sud­den hail of bul­lets. Sing Lee scram­bles to reload, his hands steady even while his voice chat­ters with urgency. Vir­ginia stands near­by, her gaze fixed through the port as the ene­my regath­ers their nerve. The prahu rows for­ward once more, unde­terred by the gun’s pres­ence, a chill­ing reminder that des­per­a­tion often over­rides fear. The schooner, bare­ly defend­ed, offers them a tempt­ing tar­get. Sing’s weapon, no longer enough to scare them off, prompts Vir­ginia to act. She remem­bers the machine gun and von Horn’s brief lessons, and with resolve born of neces­si­ty, she races to the deck to take her stand.

With no time to sec­ond-guess, Vir­ginia loads the belt and points the gun toward the advanc­ing ene­my. The sight before her is terrifying—nearly fifty men, armed and sav­age, pad­dling toward her with­out hes­i­ta­tion. Their paint­ed shields and gleam­ing blades glint under the sun, and their wild cries ring loud­er than the ocean’s waves. Sing shouts for her to stop, to go below, but Vir­ginia moves faster than his warn­ings can catch her. She throws the cov­er off the weapon, cal­cu­lates the angle, and braces her­self behind the shield. The first wave of mus­ket fire snaps through the air, slam­ming into wood and slic­ing past her head. But she holds steady. Her hands grip the con­trols and, in a breath, the gun erupts with life. The air splits with its roar, and the pirates reel as death rains down from above.

The effect is imme­di­ate and ter­ri­fy­ing. Men fall before they even real­ize what’s hap­pen­ing. Some col­lapse into the boat, oth­ers into the sea, their bod­ies top­pling like stones. The rest scat­ter in pan­ic, their courage bro­ken. Those left alive scram­ble to escape, their pad­dles now weapons of retreat. Vir­ginia doesn’t pause. The gun con­tin­ues its grim work, sweep­ing across the attack­ers like a sick­le through dry grass. Sing rush­es to her side, feed­ing ammu­ni­tion with­out being asked, his dis­be­lief giv­ing way to awe. This young woman, alone and untrained, has turned the tide. Her brav­ery, unshak­en by fear, has saved them all. Behind them, the Ithaca’s crew awak­ens, drawn by the sound of bat­tle.

Von Horn and Budu­dreen lead the charge from below deck, ral­ly­ing the remain­ing sailors. They leap into action, board­ing the retreat­ing prahu to ensure the attack­ers are repelled for good. The bat­tle ends as quick­ly as it began, with the defend­ers stand­ing vic­to­ri­ous on blood-washed planks. Virginia’s hands trem­ble as the gun falls silent, smoke curl­ing around its met­al frame. Her heart pounds, not just from the effort, but from the weight of what she’s done. The moment stretch­es, filled with adren­a­line and the smell of gun­pow­der. Then the chaos recedes, and silence returns—brief, ten­ta­tive, like the world catch­ing its breath. Sing nods with qui­et pride, his ear­li­er doubts gone.

For Vir­ginia, the expe­ri­ence marks a turn­ing point. No longer just a pas­sive observ­er in her father’s world, she has proven her strength in action. The vio­lence she faced wasn’t cho­sen, but her response came with­out hes­i­ta­tion. This moment reveals the courage she possesses—a qual­i­ty born not of vio­lence, but of neces­si­ty and clar­i­ty. The island, once a place of iso­la­tion and mys­tery, now demands a new ver­sion of her. Dan­ger lurks not just in jun­gles or exper­i­ments, but in the hearts of men like Budu­dreen and von Horn, whose alliances shift like wind. The gun­fight exposed more than just pirates. It brought to light who could be trust­ed when life itself hangs in the bal­ance.

In the days that fol­low, Vir­ginia remains alert. She knows the attack will not be the last. The machine gun, once a curios­i­ty, now stands as a sym­bol of sur­vival. Trust must be earned, not giv­en freely, and even those who seem like allies may car­ry hid­den motives. Her father, deep in his sci­en­tif­ic obses­sions, remains dis­tant from the real­i­ties unfold­ing around them. Von Horn, quick to praise her courage, watch­es her too close­ly, his inter­est not only pro­tec­tive but pos­ses­sive. And Sing, ever loy­al, becomes her silent guardian. The rift has opened—not just between ene­mies and allies, but between who Vir­ginia was and who she must become. The island will shape her in ways no one yet under­stands.