The journey had been a nightmare. Over the past two days, they'd fought off mutated fish the size of small boats, their flesh peeling off in sheets as they thrashed against the harpoons.
They'd skirted whirlpools that spun unnaturally fast, as if something beneath the surface was sucking the water down. The sky itself seemed broken—streaks of greenish fog coiled like serpents, blotting out the sun.
Now, as they neared the coast, the devastation was undeniable.
The shoreline was a graveyard of half-sunken buildings, their skeletons jutting from the water like broken teeth. A thick, greenish mist clung to the ruins, shifting with a life of its own. The air crackled with static, making the hair on their arms stand on end.
Carlos gripped the railing, his knuckles white. "This isn't just contamination. This is hell "
