"FULL SPEED AHEAD!" Chris bellowed, his voice raw with desperation. But before the words could even fully leave his mouth, an invisible, merciless force seized him. The turbulent waters thrashed like wild beasts, dragging him into the heart of chaos. The waters were thick with ash, and the roar of the volcanic eruption, a monstrous shockwave, slammed into him with brutal force. Pain exploded as his body slammed against the steel rudder.
His helmet's visor cracked sharply against his face, a spiderweb fracture spreading like a bad omen. Cecilia's frantic cries pierced the storm, but they felt miles away, distant and fading. Helpless, he was swallowed by the abyss of unconsciousness, dread tightening its grip around his fading senses.
Chief Officer Bustamante, Chief Murillo, and Martinez were the first to reach the chaotic scene. They hurried to the ship's rails, eyes scanning the dark, churning waters for any sign of the captain.
"There!" Murillo's voice cracked through the tension as she pointed toward a white shape bobbing violently in the waves, dragged relentlessly by the ship's wake. It was the captain—his lifeline, the only thing tethering him to safety. "Chief, how far are we from the volcano?"
Without hesitation, Bustamante snatched his radio, his voice sharp and commanding: "All engines, full stop. Now!" The order thundered through the bridge. The officer at the throttle hesitated for a heartbeat before easing the lever back. The propellers groaned, then slowed, the ship's momentum carrying the Twilight forward as the engines fell silent.
For a brief, heart-stopping moment, Chris floated face down just above the waterline—so close, so vulnerable.
"Pull him up! Pull him up!" Bustamante bellowed, his voice raw with urgency.
Hands scrambled, ropes tightened, the crew straining against the weight of the water and the desperate seconds slipping away.
Suddenly, with a sickening snap, the lifeline tore free. Chris plunged back into the dark abyss with a splash that echoed like a gunshot across the eerie silence.
Bustamante's roar tore through the air, disbelief and fury crashing over him in waves. "What the hell just happened? He was right there!" The captain, within grasp, was swallowed again by the river.
Cecilia's fingers clawed at her hair, her breath ragged, heart pounding like a war drum in her chest. Time was bleeding away, the deadly waters claiming every second. Then, her eyes locked onto the submersible drone, swinging precariously from the crane.
She grabbed Martinez's arm with a fierce urgency. "Lower that thing back into the water—now!" she commanded, voice sharp and trembling.
Martinez's gaze flicked to the drone, instantly grasping her plan. "On it!" sprinting to the crane's control panel. His hand slammed the button to lower the drone, the machine groaning as it descended. "Come on, come on!" he urged, every second stretching taut with tension.
Cecilia yanked Chief Bustamante toward the drone's control console. With trembling hands, she flipped switches, igniting the lights and video feed. The drone hummed to life, ready. "Chief, use this to find the captain. We can't lose him now," she urged, eyes blazing with desperate hope.
Bustamante nodded, gripping the controls. The moment the drone slipped free from its latch and submerged, he directed it toward where the captain fell back into the waters. The Chief Officer, officer panned the drone left, right, down, and up in a desperate bid to find their captain.
Cecilia bit her fingernails as the tension piled up to a powder keg. "Where is he?" She nervously fidgeted behind Bustamante and then, in hope. "THERE!" she pointed to a small white speck in the video feed.
"That is too far away to be certain, if we go there, and that's not the captain..." Murillo stopped; she did not dare finish her sentence, for she shuddered at the thought.
"Miss Bermudez, how can you be sure that's the captain?" Martinez wanted so much to believe that Cecilia was right, but at this time of peril, every move should be made with absolute certainty. "If we go there and it's not him...we could lose him to the undercurrents."
But Cecilia knew it was him; she could not understand or know why, but she was certain it was him. "Trust me, it's him," she looked around her, the skeptical glances were torture, they were wasting precious time, and it was just too much for her to handle.
Without a word, she pushed Bustamante aside and took control of the drone. She pushed the craft at full speed, heading in the direction she pointed. "What are you doing? Get away from the controls!" Murillo barked at her, and she tried to pull Cecilia away, but the human just pushed and swatted her hands away.
"There! You, see? It's the captain!" Cecilia pointed at the image as soon as the drone was close enough for a clear image. It was then that Cecilia fully grasped the peril Chris was in: "His helmet, it's cracked!"
The gravity of her words weighed down on the crew, as if they were carrying ten-ton bricks. "Miss Bermudez...let me take over from here."
Cecilia nodded nervously as she slid out of the chair, surrendering control of the drone back to the Chief Officer. The drone sliced silently beneath the surface, weaving through the dark waters. Chris's helmet cracked and spiderwebbed ominously, threatening to flood with the deadly waters at any moment. Bustamante's hands were steady, every movement precise as he positioned the drone beneath their captain.
Slowly, painstakingly, he began to lift Chris toward the surface, the drone's gentle hum the only sound against the roaring silence of the ocean. The captain, lying flat on the drone, was unconscious but alive, clinging to life by a thread.
"Get a lifeboat ready! We're bringing him home!" Martinez barked, rallying the crew.
Minutes stretched like hours as the white lifeboat crept toward the drone, every eye glued to the fragile rescue. The water of Kasanaan churned menacingly, but the crew moved with careful precision, avoiding the deadly touch.
Then, the moment that shattered the tension, the lifeboat's crew hoisted Chris aboard, his chest rising with ragged breaths, alive. A collective roar of relief erupted, drowning out the storm's fury.
Chris was safe. Against all odds, they had pulled their captain from the jaws of death. The rescue was more than a victory—it was a testament to their courage, resolve, and unyielding hope.
Chris opened his eyes and realized he was already in the infirmary; he lifted his hands near his face, observing and examining them. "Captain? Are you okay? Is there something wrong with your hands?"