Maeve felt the pearl she had placed in her mouth vibrate slightly; a second later, she heard Kakuja's voice.
"I don't know about you, but I already wanna run."
Slowly sinking further down under the weight of the anchor, Maeve turned to her right as Kakuja slowly drifted into view, still atop their seaweed horse. Eyeing the light in the depths a little longer, Kakuja met Maeve's gaze.
"Do you see the ship?"
Maeve nodded.
Usually one would be unable to see anything in the dark waters, but one of the enchantments of Maeve's armour allowed her to see through water clearly, no matter whether it was darkness or detritus blocking her vision.
"I do, follow me."
Holding the lantern in her off hand to guide Kakuja, Maeve began to descend.
Drawing upon her Aspect, the same ability that allowed her to effectively swim through solid matter, was also applicable to liquids. There was no need for Maeve to kick her feet or fight against the water; she controlled her movement through it as if she were flying through open air.
Beside and behind her, Kakuja followed as the distant silhouette of the stranded evacuation ship steadily grew larger, suspended upon its precarious shelf above the endless abyss.
The pearl hummed as Kakuja's words were transmitted through it.
"Maeve, can you see what's making that light out?"
Taking a glance toward the light, Maeve frowned.
"I can't. Whatever it is, it's deep and well beyond the limits of what my Memory will let me see."
A small distressed noise came from the pearl – Kakuja whined softly.
"That's not reassuring…"
The duo remained silent for the remainder of the descent.
Maeve's attention kept drifting toward the distant light dancing within the abyss. Every few moments, she found herself looking back at it, half hoping the glow would reveal its source, half dreading that it actually would.
Yet the more she looked, the more she found herself wanting to look again. Her gaze lingered a little longer each time, drawn toward the lonely flicker in a way she couldn't quite explain. Frowning, Maeve forcibly turned her head away from it and focused on the task at hand. Whatever was causing the light was far below them and of no concern to her right now.
Before long, the wrecked ship loomed before them.
Maeve released her grip on the anchor, allowing its immense weight to pull her the final few metres downward. The weapon struck the ship's deck with a dull clang that was absorbed by the depths, anchoring her in place as she landed beside it.
Kakuja's Echo touched down alongside her, its six legs settling against the metal deck with surprising delicacy. Strands of kelp drifted around its body in the current as it came to a stop.
Around them stretched the wrecked vessel's upper deck, eerily preserved beneath the water.
Too preserved, the entire ship seemed to be in too good a condition, considering that four ships had been sunk.
'Speaking of four ships.'
"Considering that there's only one ship here, I guess the other three weren't fortunate enough to land on this shelf."
Kakuja dismounted their horse.
"Seems not. I didn't see any damage on this ship. I was half expecting a giant hole, or maybe giant claw marks? So what's our plan?"
"Same as before, we need to find the black box, which will be on the bridge. I know the smart idea would be going straight to the bridge but…"
Maeve raised her head, eyeing the bridge, but her eyes fell on a small open door at the base of the tower. As she watched the door, Maeve noticed something she hadn't expected to find on the sunken ship. Immediately moving to the door, Maeve froze, seeing a human hand. Moving closer, she saw the hand extended into an arm and eventually a person. A very dead person.
"Maeve? Kakuja swam closer, what's wrong?"
Looking at the body, Maeve felt a chill run down her spine, which was weird considering the Antarctic waters that were clinging to her skin.
"It's a person."
Kakuja looked at the door, they frowned slightly.
"Yeah, Meave, that is a person. Come on, don't tell me you expected to find survivors down here? Four sunken ships, I doubt whatever Nightmare Creature did this planned to leave survivors."
Maeve's brow twitched as she turned to glare at Kakuja.
"I did not expect to find survivors, Kakuja. That's not what's confusing me. It's the fact that there was even something left to find. Since when do Nightmare Creatures leave completely untouched corpses behind?"
Realisation dawned on Kakuja's face.
"Oh…"
Their grip tightened around the coral harpoon as they slowly looked around the silent deck.
"...Oh, I don't like that at all."
"Come on."
Maeve proceeded into the ship, ducking past the body of the man.
Stopping by the entrance, Kakuja glanced back at their horse. The aquatic destrier shifted its weight, but there was no chance of it fitting through the narrow corridors of the vessel.
"Well, this is where we part ways, horsie."
They reached up and patted the creature's neck.
"Thanks for the ride."
The Echo snorted, a stream of bubbles escaping its nostrils. A moment later, Kakuja dismissed it. The seaweed horse dissolved into drifting sparks of essence that were quickly swallowed by the surrounding water. Suddenly feeling a little less comfortable without the large creature beside them, Kakuja hurried after Maeve into the dark interior of the wreck.
"Hey, Maeve. Wait up, I can't see in here!"
Turning back to them, Maeve blinked.
"Oh. Right."
Without another word, she held out the lantern, which Kakuja quickly took. The warm glow illuminated the corridor around them and pushed back the oppressive darkness that had settled inside the wreck.
"Much better."
Maeve simply shook her head and continued forward.
Lantern in hand and harpoon at the ready, Kakuja followed after her as the pair proceeded deeper into the vessel's flooded interior. The narrow corridors stretched ahead of them, silent save for the occasional groan of strained metal and the distant creaking of a ship that had long since ceased belonging among the living.
As they moved through the vessel, they began to find bodies.
At first, there were only a few: A sailor floating near a doorway, a government agent touching the ceiling, a crewman tangled amongst loose equipment that had broken free during the sinking.
Then they found more.
And more.
The deeper they ventured into the wreck, the more dead they discovered.
Bodies drifted through flooded passageways. Bodies rested inside barracks and mess halls. Entire compartments had become underwater graves, filled with silent figures suspended in the dark.
What disturbed Maeve wasn't the number of corpses.
It was the state they were in.
There were no signs of panic.
No desperate claw marks around sealed doors.
No bodies piled against exits.
No indication that anyone had fought to escape.
One sailor still sat at a workstation, hands resting calmly on a console.
In the mess halls, families were still seated around tables, meals in varying states floated through the waters around them. A technician floated beside an open maintenance panel, tools drifting around him exactly where they had been dropped.
It was as though everybody aboard, both the crew and the civilians, had simply continued about their duties while the ship sank around them.
As though none of them had cared… or noticed.
Maeve felt a chill that had nothing to do with the Antarctic water.
"This is just, this is wrong. People don't behave like this when they're on a sinking ship. They run, panic, and fight tooth and nail to make it to the lifeboats.
Kakuja didn't respond, simply allowing the lantern's glow to sweep across another silent corridor.
With every body they passed, the wreck felt less like a ship and more like a mausoleum frozen in time.
In time, they reached the bridge – the moment they arrived, a tremor ran through the vessel, causing the entire wreck to shudder.
Metal groaned somewhere deep within the ship's frame as a vibration passed through the deck. Loose objects drifted from shelves and consoles, disturbed by the sudden movement.
Kakuja froze.
Slowly, they turned toward Maeve.
"...Do you think that was an earthquake?"
Maeve's eyes remained fixed on the dark corridor behind them.
For a moment, she considered the question.
Then she nodded.
"I hope so."
The bridge was much like the rest of the ship.
Filled with the dead.
The room stretched before them in eerie silence, rows of consoles and control stations sitting exactly where they had been left on the day the vessel sank. Flickering emergency lights cast a faint glow across the room, illuminating drifting papers, loose cables, and the occasional blinking indicator that had somehow survived the descent into the depths.
Bodies occupied nearly every station.
A helmsman remained seated at the ship's wheel, his hands still resting upon it as though he were waiting for orders. Nearby, a communications officer floated slightly above her chair, one hand suspended over a console that had long since gone dark. Several others remained at their posts throughout the bridge, strapped into seats or slumped over control panels.
None of them appeared distressed.
The captain sat at the centre of the bridge, his body secured within the command chair. His head was tilted slightly downward, as though he had simply fallen asleep while reviewing a report.
Maeve turned away from the bodies; she began to summon a Memory.
"Alright, Kakuja. The door we came through is the only open door, so can you set up a wall? I'll clear this place of water, and then we can get searching for the black box."
Letting go of their coral spear, leaving it to float beside them, Kakuja nodded.
"Sure thing, it'll take some focus to mess with the surface tension so it will hold back the water at this depth. But I think I'll be fine."
Holding the lantern between their teeth by a metal ring attached to its top, they flexed their fingers, and Kakuja began to move their open palms around the passageway leading to the corridor.
As Kakuja got to work, Maeve looked down at her hand, at the Memory she had summoned. It was a small glass bottle sealed with a single cork. At first glance, it appeared completely empty, the crystal-clear glass revealing nothing within.
Glancing toward Kakuja, Maeve watched them back away from the door and retrieve their coral spear. They continued retreating until they had put a good distance between themselves and the entrance. Their moon-white hair drifted weightlessly around their head with every movement. Once satisfied, Kakuja crouched and grabbed hold of one of the empty chairs bolted to the deck.
The metal groaned faintly as they tested its weight, positioning it in front of them like an improvised shield. Then they looked up at Maeve. Their drifting white hair framed their face in the lantern's glow as they gave her a firm nod, silently signalling that they were ready.
Maeve took a deep breath – which translated to her inhaling more cold water.
Resting the anchor against a nearby console, Maeve gingerly reached for the cork sealing the bottle. She cast one final glance toward Kakuja to ensure they were ready. Seeing them brace behind the chair, Maeve wrapped her fingers around the cork and tore it free.
The effect was immediate.
The water throughout the bridge erupted into motion as a violent gust of wind burst from the bottle. Air exploded from the tiny vessel, the force striking Maeve hard enough to force her arm backwards. Her muscles tensed as she fought against the force, holding the bottle steady while the enchantment unleashed itself.
Loose papers, debris, and drifting bodies were swept away as the room became a maelstrom of churning currents. Water rushed through the doorway they had come, driven outward by the relentless torrent of air pouring from the bottle.
The water level rapidly dropped, rushing from the bridge in a roaring flood as more and more of the chamber was reclaimed. Bodies settled awkwardly onto the deck. Consoles emerged from beneath the sea. The windows of the bridge became visible once more, though beyond them remained only the dark Antarctic depths.
All the while, the bottle continued to pour out air.
Far more air than its tiny size should have been capable of containing.
When enough of the water had been forced from the bridge, Maeve struggled to force the cork back into the bottle. The pressure of the escaping air fought her every movement, the tiny Memory bucking in her grip as though it were alive. Gritting her teeth, she finally managed to jam the cork into place.
A heavy silence settled over the bridge.
For a moment, neither Maeve nor Kakuja moved. The only sound was the faint creak of settling metal and the distant pressure of the ocean pressing against the hull.
Then Maeve suddenly doubled over. Her body convulsed as she coughed violently, expelling the seawater from her lungs. The sensation lingered far longer than it should have.
Kakuja turned toward her sharply, spear half-raised before realising what was happening.
"Maeve?"
She held up a hand, still coughing.
"I'm – fine–"
Another cough followed, less violent this time, until finally her breathing began to steady. The bridge remained eerily quiet around them, the silence pressing in once again as the reality of where they were settled back over both of them.
Wiping her lips with the back of her sleeve, Maeve grunted.
"I've got to try and get a better Memory for diving…"
Maeve and Kakuja began their search for the black box.