"We need to go deeper," Ah'Ming said.
"Deeper?" Min looked at him like he'd suggested they swim to the bottom of the ocean. "WHY?"
"Because this is just the history. The explanation. But it doesn't tell us how to ESCAPE. There has to be more."
Kael nodded slowly. "He's right. These are the first chambers—probably meant for teaching, for worship. But there's always something deeper in these caves. A shrine. An altar. Something."
The group settled into an uneasy camp in the main chamber. Watches were assigned—two people awake at all times, watching both the cave entrance and the passage leading deeper inside.
Ah'Ming volunteered for the first watch along with Min.
They sat on opposite sides of the entrance, weapons ready, watching the darkness. The silence stretched.
Finally, Min spoke: "I'm sorry I dismissed you. About the turtles."
Ah'Ming looked over, surprised. "It's okay. You were scared."
"Still am." She laughed without humor. "But you were right. The patterns matter. Everything connects."
"I just got lucky with pattern recognition."
"No." Min shook her head. "You cared enough to look. Most people see weird details in an instance and ignore them because they're too focused on surviving. You actually investigate."
"That's literally our job—"
"Most investigators forget that when they're running from zombies." She smiled slightly. "You didn't. Even when we called you crazy."
"I am a little crazy," Ah'Ming admitted.
"Aren't we all?"
They lapsed back into silence, but it was more comfortable now.
Ah'Ming clicked his fidget cube rhythmically, staring at the turtle paintings illuminated by their flashlights. The spiral pattern seemed to shift in the flickering light, the central turtle almost appearing to move.
Trust the turtles.
What did that mean?
His antennae twitched as viewer commentary picked up in his mind. Air chambers. The turtles could hold their breath for hours. Days, even. They found air pockets. Safe spaces underwater.
Ah'Ming sat up straighter.
"What?" Min asked, immediately alert.
"The turtles," Ah'Ming said slowly. "They can hold their breath for hours. Days, even, some species. They find air pockets. Safe spaces underwater."
"So?"
"So what if the cave system has air pockets? Chambers that stay dry even when the island is fully submerged?"
Min's eyes widened. "Places to wait out the dive cycle."
"Exactly. The aboriginals survived by finding these chambers. They documented the cycles because they could safely observe them from inside the cave."
When Kael woke for the next watch shift, Ah'Ming and Min presented their theory. He listened carefully, then nodded. "It fits. Everything we know points to this."
"So we go deeper," Min said. "As soon as possible."
"Agreed. But carefully." Kael glanced at the passage leading into the cave's depths. "We don't know what's down there. Could be more zombies. Could be cave-ins. Could be underwater already."
"Could be salvation," the prophet said. He'd woken up and was listening, still looking terrible but determined. "I can try to use my ability again. Ask about the deep cave."
"No," Yuki said immediately. "You're barely functioning as is—"
"I can handle one more prophecy. A small one. E-rank question, maybe. Something simple."
Before anyone could stop him, he closed his eyes and whispered: "Is there safety in the deep cave?"
The reaction was immediate. His body went rigid. Blood poured from his nose, both nostrils streaming. His eyes snapped open but they were blank, white, seeing something beyond the physical.
"Yes," he gasped. "Yes. Safety. Air. Darkness. Cold. But safe. SAFE."
Then he collapsed.
Yuki caught him, lowering him gently to the ground. "You IDIOT—"
"Worth it," the prophet mumbled, already passing out. "Tell them... trust the turtles... go deep..."
He went limp.
"But we have our answer," Kael said grimly. "There IS safety deeper in the cave."
Into the Deep
"Everyone who can walk, grab your gear," Kael ordered. "We're going deeper. Stay together. Watch each other's backs. And whatever we find down there..." He paused, meeting each person's eyes. "We face it together. Understood?"
"Understood," they chorused.
Yuki fashioned a makeshift stretcher for the unconscious prophet using rope and a tarp. Two stronger members of the group volunteered to carry him.
They gathered their supplies, lit extra torches and glow-sticks, and stood at the entrance to the deeper passage. The tunnel sloped downward, disappearing into darkness that their lights couldn't fully penetrate. Water dripped somewhere far below, echoing up through the stone.
"Last chance to back out," Kael said.
Nobody moved.
"Alright then." He raised his spear. "Into the deep."
One by one, they descended.
Ah'Ming went near the middle of the group, his enhanced senses on high alert. The tunnel was narrow—only wide enough for single file in most places. The walls were damp, covered in more turtle carvings that seemed to glow faintly in their light.
The passage wound down and down, following the natural contours of the cave system. Sometimes it widened into small chambers. Sometimes it narrowed until they had to turn sideways to squeeze through.
And everywhere—EVERYWHERE—were turtles. Painted turtles. Carved turtles. Shells arranged in patterns. Bones that might have been turtle skeletons positioned carefully in alcoves like offerings.
Trust the turtles.
After what felt like hours but was probably only thirty minutes, the passage opened into another chamber.
This one was smaller than the main room above, but it had something the other didn't: Light.
Bioluminescent algae covered the ceiling and upper walls, casting everything in a soft blue-green glow. The effect was otherworldly, beautiful and eerie in equal measure.
And in the center of the chamber was a pool. Dark water, perfectly still, reflecting the glowing ceiling like a mirror.
"Is it deeper?" Someone whispered.
Kael approached the edge carefully, shining his flashlight down. The light didn't reach the bottom.
"It goes down," he reported. "Way down. I can't see how far."
"The water level," Ah'Ming said suddenly. "Check the walls. Are there water marks?"
They searched the chamber, examining the stone. There—faint lines on the walls, showing where water had been. Multiple lines at different heights.
"The water level here changes too," Min breathed. "It rises and falls with the island."
"Which means when the island is fully submerged," Ah'Ming continued, "this chamber fills completely."
"But there must be chambers higher up," Yuki insisted. "Air pockets that stay dry."
"Or chambers beyond this," Kael said, gesturing to the far side of the pool. "Look—another passage. On the other side of the water."
He was right. Across the pool, maybe ten meters away, was an opening in the wall. Another tunnel leading deeper.
"How do we cross?" Someone asked.
"Swim," Darius said flatly.
"The water killed the others," Min protested. "Every investigator who touched the water died or turned into zombies."
"The ocean water," Ah'Ming corrected. "This is cave water. Different source. Maybe different properties?"
System recommends caution
Water analysis incomplete
Unknown risk factors
"Thanks, Steve. Super helpful."
Ah'Ming approached the pool's edge, crouching down. He dipped one finger into the water. It was cold. Clean. It didn't smell like anything.
And most importantly—no blue rings formed on his skin.
"It's not the same as the zombie water," he announced. "No necrotic damage."
He pulled a coconut from his inventory and tossed it into the pool. It sank without ripples, just like the ocean. But then—it bobbed back up.
"It floats!" Min exclaimed. "The ocean water doesn't let things float, but this water does!"
"It's normal water," Ah'Ming said, relief flooding through him. "Or close enough."
They organized quickly. Ah'Ming volunteered to go first, testing the water's depth and the distance. He stripped off his jacket and heavier gear and dove in.
The water was shockingly cold, stealing his breath. But he could move through it normally—no weird resistance, no unnatural stillness like the ocean.
He swam down, following the pull of the far passage. The pool was deep—maybe five meters—but the distance across was manageable. He surfaced on the far side, gasping but triumphant.
"It's safe!" He called back, voice echoing. "Just really cold!"
One by one, the group crossed. It took twenty minutes to get everyone across. Cold, wet, and miserable, but across.