Chapter 220
I am gliding through the water with a familiar ease, the current carrying me past towering silhouettes of ancient warships. Their hulking, brooding forms drift through the dim blue, outlined by scattered beams of light from our submersible.
As I swim alongside the dark structure, my eyes catch an unsettling movement—Wake is straying farther from our group, heading straight toward one of the war submarines. My heart skips a beat as I notice his determined, almost reckless, advance toward the relic of old conflicts.
I call out to him, my voice vibrating through the water in gentle pulses, “Wake, come back! Stay with us!” But his eyes, bright with that familiar mix of defiance and curiosity, are fixed on the mysterious vessel.
Against our agreed plan, he slips quietly onto the cold, metallic hull of the submarine. The decision is impulsive, his siren instincts driving him toward the unknown allure of the forgotten war machine. I feel a surge of concern ripple through me—this isn’t the moment for solitary investigations.
Without a second thought, I dart after him. I refuse to let him go off on his own. The submarine’s exterior is pitted and scarred, coated with barnacles and layers of marine growth. As I approach, I see the narrow hatch slightly ajar, beckoning me inside. I pause for a brief moment, my mind racing with a thousand warnings, but my resolve is firm. I need to follow him.
Inside, the atmosphere changes dramatically. The interior of the war sub is cloaked in darkness, punctuated only by the eerie glow of screens and panels that pulse with an almost organic rhythm.
I swim slowly into the cavernous space, my senses heightened by the mingling of ancient metal and the subtle hum of technology. My eyes adjust to the dim light, revealing strange, biomechanical controls that seem to merge seamlessly with the vessel’s cold steel. These are not the simple mechanical instruments of an old war machine; they pulse with a life of their own, as though intertwined with some unknown, sentient energy.
I drift closer, my fingertips grazing the smooth, almost organic surfaces of the panels. Embedded within them, I find evidence of Enigma’s handiwork—a deliberate effort to reactivate these war subs, to breathe new life into relics of warfare long past.
The controls are arranged in intricate patterns, each button and lever crafted with precision. Beside them, built-in weapon systems are integrated into the submarine’s structure, their metallic forms glistening faintly as they reflect the bio-luminescent light. Every detail whispers secrets of clandestine projects and hidden agendas.
As I explore further, an uneasy feeling creeps over me. It is as if something crucial is slipping through my fingers, a vital detail or warning that I cannot quite grasp. I press a hand to my chest, feeling the rapid beat of my heart echoing in the stillness.
There is a moment—a pause between thoughts—when I sense that a piece of the puzzle is missing, and I fear that by ignoring it, I might be jeopardizing everything we have worked for.
Before I can dwell further on the uneasy sensation, a sharp, digital chirp shatters the silence. It is a distress signal, emanating from Nereid’s submersible, cutting through the murky water like a desperate plea.
My pulse quickens. The signal is unmistakable—a clear, insistent alarm that something terrible is unfolding on the ship. My mind reels with urgency as I realize that every second now matters.
“Wake!” I call out again, my voice now edged with alarm. “We have to go—Nereid needs help!” Yet, the dim corridors of the war sub seem to stretch on infinitely, pulling us deeper into the unknown before we can escape its grip.
For a brief, agonizing moment, I hesitate. The temptation to uncover every secret of this long-forgotten technology wrestles with my responsibility to our team. But the distress signal is insistent, a reminder that our duty is to our comrades above, not to the relics of a dark past.
With a heavy heart, I turn to retrace my steps, urging Wake to follow. His eyes, filled with a mix of lingering wonder and the stubborn thrill of discovery, meet mine, and I see the conflict there—a battle between the call of ancient mysteries and the pressing need to rescue our friend.
Reluctantly, he concedes, and we make a swift decision: we abandon our investigation and race back to the safety of our team.
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