My name is Kaël, I'm nineteen, and today, I'm diving into the Abyss for the first time. The surface is a nightmare, a world of ash and ruins where hunger and violence rule every day. The floating cities, artificial islands suspended above the toxic ocean, are humanity's last refuge, but even there, life is a struggle. They say the ocean hides secrets older than the stars, treasures that could make a man rich for a thousand lifetimes, and monsters that would make gods tremble. I don't know if I believe the legends, but I have no choice. On the surface, I was an orphan, surviving by stealing rations in the dark alleys of the cities. A recruiter found me, half-starved, and promised a new life if I dived. "One azure gem, and you'll eat for a year," he said. I didn't sign up for glory—just to survive.
There are eight of us in the team, crammed into the airlock of the submarine *Silver Star*, a rusty old hulk that groans under the water's pressure. Our hydrodynamic suits, miracles of technology, are as light as a second skin but our only protection against the Abyss. A single tear, even a small one, and the pressure crushes you like an empty shell, or the currents drag you into depths no one returns from. Lira, our leader, a woman in her thirties with short-cropped hair and a face scarred with lines, briefs us in a hoarse voice. "Stay together. Don't touch anything without my order. If something moves, shoot first, ask questions later." Her steel-gray eyes tolerate no weakness. She's survived dozens of dives, making her a living legend. But legends don't smile.
The team is a mismatched bunch. Mira, the sniper, has a cold gaze and a calm that chills my blood. She adjusts her plasma lance with surgical precision, as if it's an extension of her body. Taro, a gentle-eyed giant, carries a vibrating blade strapped to his back, a weapon that can slice through steel like paper. Soren, the technician, nervously fiddles with his suit's sensors, muttering calculations under his breath. Joran, another novice like me, looks as terrified as I feel, his hands shaking on his plasma lance. His blond hair sticks to his forehead under his helmet, and he throws me a panicked glance. Kaelin, Vora, and Dax, the three veterans, are silent, their faces marked by dives they never talk about. Kaelin, a lean woman, bears claw-shaped scars on her forearm. Vora, bald and muscular, sports a glowing tattoo on his neck, a strange symbol I don't recognize. Dax, the oldest, chews a piece of resin, his gaze lost in the void.
The airlock opens with a hiss, and icy water engulfs us. My suit hums softly, adjusting to the pressure. The darkness is absolute, broken only by the beams of our headlamps and the eerie glow of bioluminescent corals lining the seafloor. Every movement is an effort, the water resisting like a living entity. I focus on my breathing, the steady hiss of oxygen in my helmet. My legs tremble, not just from the cold. The Abyss has a presence, a heaviness that weighs on my mind, as if something is watching from the shadows. I wonder if the others feel it too, but their faces, visible through transparent helmets, are unreadable.
Lira swims at the front, her movements precise, almost mechanical. She guides us through an underwater canyon, its walls covered in pulsing corals like living hearts. The colors—purple, blue, acid green—dance under our lights, but there's something unsettling about their glow, as if they're aware. My pulse quickens. Everything here feels… too alive. Shadows flicker beyond our beams, and I can't shake the feeling that something is watching us. Soren, to my left, murmurs a prayer into his comms, a string of unintelligible words. Joran, to my right, breathes too fast, on the edge of panic. "Calm down," I say through the comms, but my voice shakes as much as his.
Suddenly, a rumble reverberates—not a sound, but a vibration that rattles my bones through the suit. Lira raises a gloved hand, signaling a halt. Our lights sweep the darkness, and I see it: a massive, sinuous silhouette, as long as a building. A minor leviathan, Lira calls it, but there's nothing minor about it. Its black scales absorb the light, and its eyes, two yellow beacons, fix on us with cold intelligence. Its maw opens, revealing rows of sword-like teeth, each as long as my arm. My heart stops. I'd seen images of leviathans in briefings, but nothing prepares you for this.
"Defensive formation!" Lira shouts through the comms. We form a circle, plasma lances ready. The leviathan charges, impossibly fast for its size. The water swirls, tossing us like rag dolls. Mira fires first, a blue plasma bolt piercing the darkness. The beast roars, a sound that vibrates my suit and makes me nauseous. Taro lunges forward, his vibrating blade carving a glowing arc. He slices off part of its tail, releasing a cloud of black blood that clouds the water. The leviathan retaliates, its jaws snapping meters from me. I fire, my weapon shaking in my hands. The plasma hits its left eye, and it recoils, shrieking. But Joran isn't so lucky. He's too slow, hesitating. The leviathan's tail strikes, tearing his suit at the chest. His screams pierce the comms, a high-pitched wail that cuts through me. Then, silence. His body collapses, crushed by the pressure, disappearing in a cloud of blood.
"Stay focused!" Lira yells. I want to scream too, but my throat is dry. Kaelin and Vora unleash a barrage of plasma shots, their lances lighting the water like fireworks. Dax, too bold, closes in to plant an explosive charge on the leviathan's flank. He succeeds, but an invisible claw—an extension of the beast—pierces his suit. He collapses, his body imploding in a fraction of a second. Bile rises in my throat, but there's no time to think. Lira takes control. "Mira, left flank! Taro, with me! Kaël, cover the others!" We fight like possessed, plasma shots illuminating the water. The leviathan, wounded, finally flees into the darkness, leaving a trail of blood.
We find the azure gem in a crevice, sparkling like a piece of a star. Lira retrieves it, her face impassive despite the losses. The return to the submarine is silent, broken only by the hum of our suits. Joran and Dax are dead, their faces etched in my memory. I collapse into my seat, hands trembling. Lira approaches, her eyes hard but not cruel. "Welcome to the Abyss, kid. The first dive is always the worst. But it never gets easier."