《Tale Of The Deep And The Dead》 Chapter 1 The hum of the drop pod¡¯s engine filled the silence as we drifted, weightless, just above the thin atmosphere of Narix-6. The planet beneath us was constantly ravaged by storms, choppy gray waves and streaks of lightning breaking across the one great ocean. It is a lifeless planet, just an acidic sea on a barren rock. The only trace of humanity or life in general coming from wrecked space stations, a graveyard of tech and steel from an age not quite forgotten. And here we were, diving right in. Across from me, Diego sat with his eyes closed, fingers intertwined around a small wooden cross. He was murmuring something low yet fast, and in Spanish, probably a prayer. I¡¯d seen him take on rigs twice his size back when we still did mining, quite the big guy, but he was still the only one of us who carried a cross. He wasn''t the most stereotypical Christian, but what¡¯s that to stop him? His lips moved silently, and though I didn''t understand a word, it was familiar enough to me that I didn¡¯t mind pausing to let him pray. Tom, on the other hand, was fidgeting. His thin fingers tapped rhythmically against the armrest, like he was trying to tap out some melody. His glasses were stowed away in his locker since he¡¯d be switching to contacts as soon as we hit the surface, but I could still see him squinting into the interface on his terminal, double-checking our trajectory. ¡°You sure the landing''s gonna be smooth, Tom?¡± I asked jokingly. ¡°I¡¯d hate for our last job to end as a splat on a rock.¡± I let out a chuckle, ¡°You know these drop pods are used all across the known universe, and yet you still worry, that type of stress is not good for your health.¡± I said this as if the stress was really the most dangerous part. He looked up, the corner of his mouth twitching into a nervous smile. ¡°I know, but as we¡¯re coming through a soup of acid and lightning. It''s a bit hard to not worry ¡± Diego¡¯s eyes flickered open, his voice a low rumble. ¡°I know it''s not exactly a comforting thought, hermano, pero todav¨ªa te preocupas demasiado!¡± Tom paused, then shrugged. Tapping the screen, he sarcastically remarked, ¡°Not much to worry about if we¡¯re dead, right?¡± ¡°Solid optimism, Tom,¡± I replied, equally sarcastic. He grinned, and I had to admit, that little half-smile of his brought a bit of ease, but then his expression changed¡­ alongside Diego¡¯s. ¡°Tom¡­ I made you repeat this twenty eight times, and now for the twenty ninth¡± Diego seemed disappointed. Before I could ask what they meant, Tom sighed and recited ¡°Cuando dices algo en espa?ol, debo responder en espa?ol.¡± Knowing Tom, I shouldn''t be surprised that he was taking Spanish lessons from Diego. Tom already knew so much, why not a little more. I guessed that what Tom said had to do with responding to Diego''s Spanish with Spanish, and decided to end this conversation. ¡°Well time to switch off casual friends mode and turn on coworkers mode, we''re heading down,¡± I stated, tapping my console, feeling the gravity beginning to push down as we entered the atmosphere slowing the pod''s descent. The pod would handle the worst of the fall, but as soon as we hit that rocky island, we¡¯d be on our own. I looked over at my two friends. Diego was fearless as ever, holding on to his calm like it was his lifeline. And Tom, well, although he was a genius, he was still a bit anxious, even after the conversation. ¡°Alright, listen up,¡± I said, my voice loud enough to cut through the hum of the pod and the crash of my own thoughts. ¡°We hit the ground, we suit up, and get straight to the sub. The longer we stay topside, the better chance the storm has to tear us apart. We don¡¯t need a repeat of the Phyrex job.¡± Please, spare us,¡± Tom muttered. He rolled his eyes, but I knew he remembered that mess as well as I did. ¡°Just¡­ aim better this time.¡± ¡°Noted,¡± I replied, smirking. ¡°Diego, got anything to add?¡± He glanced out the window, where Narix-6¡¯s stormy horizon had become a looming reality, then looked back at us. ¡°S¨ª,¡± he said, his tone dead serious. ¡°Don¡¯t land on the wrong island.¡± We all snorted as we crossed into the planet¡¯s upper atmosphere. The pod started to rumble, heat shielding flashing red on our consoles, and I felt the drag of G forces, pressing down on me in an unwelcome wave. The noise grew louder, drowning out all other sound, as though fading into the vibrating roar. Then, with a jarring lurch, we broke through the clouds. The rocky outcropping we aimed for appeared in the dim light, a shard of jagged stone piercing through the endless acid sea. The view was unsettling, even though we¡¯d been briefed on what to expect, dark waves crashed against the cliffside, capable of dissolving flesh on contact, and the sky turned with thick, toxic clouds, casting dark orange shadows over everything. The landing was hard, but the pod held, slamming into the rock like a punch to the gut. Even with the safety harness¡¯ cushiony texture, it still cut a bit into my collarbone. It wasn¡¯t just me, we were all jostled around, straps digging into our shoulders, and I heard Tom curse as his helmet fell from its place and rattled against the floor. The parachutes on these things were solid but always were only just enough to soften the landing to go from fatal to jarring, and nothing more, little things like that are how the big suits cut corners to make more money. For a few breaths, no one moved. Just silence, the distant rumble of waves, and the pounding of my pulse. ¡°Alright, team,¡± I said, unstrapping myself with a sigh of relief. ¡°Let¡¯s get suited.¡± We each moved to our lockers, pulling out the thick, reinforced suits designed for environments like this. The fabric was dense and layered with composite materials, designed to resist the acid just long enough to get us from here to the sub, which should have better suits. I don¡¯t understand why that was done, but it probably had to do with cost. I watched Tom fumble with his helmet, then slide it over his face with a little more caution than usual. ¡°Got it?¡± I asked, tugging my gloves on. ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± he replied, voice slightly muffled. ¡°Just hoping this suit¡¯s as acid-proof as they say.¡± Diego smirked, clapping him on the shoulder. ¡°Only one way to find out, amigo.¡± I slid my helmet on, feeling the familiar pressurization and hearing the slight hiss as the suit sealed. ¡°Stay close, and keep chatter to a minimum,¡± I said through the comm. ¡°The faster we get out of here, the better.¡± The doors opened with a set of mechanical clanks, and the outside storm slammed against us like a wall. Acid rain splattered against our helmets, leaving streaks that hissed as they slid off, eating away at the dust and other materials that stuck to the suits when we were in the pod. We trudged across the rocky island, following the route Tom had plotted toward the sub¡¯s beacon. The whole area was treacherous, but thankfully our path was short. Just a few hundred meters. It was enough.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. The hatch to the sub was already exposed when we reached it, the metal entrance barely protruding from the jagged rock. Tom went straight to the control pad, fingers flying over the buttons. ¡°Almost¡­ there,¡± he muttered. ¡°It¡¯s secure.¡± The hatch hissed open, and we all slipped inside, relief flooding through me as we finally left the open storm behind. Inside, the submarine was dimly lit, the stale air thick with a faint, metallic odor that went through the suits air filters. It was a military vessel, sleek, but it wasn¡¯t just the bare essentials, even though we knew our current mission status wouldn''t let us use them, the weapons were still there. The on board AI''s voice greeted us, surprisingly calm in contrast to the harshness outside. ¡°Welcome aboard,¡± it said. ¡°The system diagnostics are complete. I am awaiting your command.¡± Diego let out a sigh. ¡°Gracias a Dios. Safe at last.¡± ¡°Safe,¡± I echoed Diego. Tom settled into the navigation seat, typing away at the console to bring up the latest coordinates. ¡°Our mission intel¡¯s still limited, but I¡¯ve pinpointed the last known location of the missing crew. Roughly four kilometers down and ten clicks west. Remember we are looking for a spacecraft with tech that is no more than 1 year out of date.¡± Diego raised an eyebrow. ¡°And they couldn¡¯t have given us a clue about who we¡¯re looking for?¡± ¡°Just ¡®two high-ranking personnel,¡¯¡± I replied, scanning through the mission briefing again. ¡°Their ship was designed to be able to handle combat, so unless something went majorly wrong, they should still have oxygen and generally be alive.¡± Tom looked thoughtful. ¡°Or they could be stranded, injured, or worse. And with all that junk at the ocean floor, wrecks, old parts of space stations, we could be looking for a needle in a scrapyard.¡± The sub rumbled to life beneath us, and I felt the familiar hum of antimatter reactors kicking in, though only two of them, it was standard procedure to limit power on non military operations. I turned to the main console, pressing the intercom to address the AI. ¡°We¡¯re restricted to two reactors, so what functions are we able to do with this limited power?¡± ¡°All necessary functions for this mission, you have the basics like life support and environment scans,¡± the AI replied smoothly. ¡°Weapons systems are offline however, as additional reactor usage is unauthorized.¡± Diego¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°So if something goes wrong, we¡¯re just¡­ down here, with limited power.¡± ¡°I may authorize further power usage if needed.¡± The deep masculine voice of the AI chimed, paused, then continued, ¡°Although on a mission like this I¡¯m certain that won''t be necessary.¡± With the submarine¡¯s systems ready and the route set, we began our descent. The AI adjusted our course, and soon, we were sinking steadily into the acid. Outside the windows, the ocean was a murky green-gray, thick with sediment and the corrosive metals of all the vessels at its bottom. This was a graveyard of technology, the planet was essentially a dumping ground for decommissioned spacecraft and space stations that once orbited distant planets, now reduced to twisted metal and decayed systems, left to rust on the ocean floor. As we dropped deeper, the light from above faded quickly, swallowed by the dark, corrosive waters. Diego leaned forward, peering through the thick glass, eyes narrowed as if he could make out more details in the gloom. But out here, visibility was next to nothing, and the only hints of anything man made were the occasional shadows of scrap debris, floating idly or slowly sinking to the depths. ¡°Look at all this,¡± Tom murmured, almost to himself, as the sonar picked up more echoes of twisted metal and fractured hulls. ¡°Whole space stations, just left to rot down here. And they say Narix-6 is ¡®off-limits¡¯ for dumping.¡± His voice was bitter, and I couldn¡¯t blame him. The corporation¡¯s hypocrisy was clear as day. ¡°Off-limits is just a suggestion to them,¡± I replied dryly. ¡°This place is a corporate landfill disguised as a ¡®restricted environment.¡¯ They don¡¯t care about cleaning up. They just dump and forget.¡± A few more minutes passed in silence, the hum of the engines steady and reassuring. Suddenly, Diego pointed toward something just visible through the murk, a glint of metal suspended mid-water, unnatural and out of place. ¡°Stop the sub,¡± he said, eyes fixed on the object. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Tom adjusted the controls, slowing our descent until we were level with the thing. It was a battered message beacon, drifting on its side. Its once-sleek casing was mangled, with scratches, dents, and torn plating exposing the inner mechanics. We could see where thick, reinforced armor had been affixed, now barely hanging on, as though it had survived an intentional assault. ¡°That¡¯s a scrappers¡¯ beacon,¡± Diego observed, frowning. ¡°But¡­ why¡¯s it all smashed up?¡± I tapped a few buttons, pulling up the data scanner. ¡°It¡¯s been put here by scrappers, alright. These things are homemade, they¡¯re used to transmit messages to any device within range. But this one¡¯s too damaged to send anything out.¡± Tom squinted at it, his curiosity clearly piqued. ¡°Wonder what kind of message they wanted it to send. And who would beat it up like this?¡± I shrugged, but my thoughts were racing. The beacon¡¯s armor was heavy, much more than you¡¯d see on a standard scrapper device. It had been fortified, built to survive the harsh environment and, apparently, even an attack. But someone had wanted it offline enough to batter it beyond repair, leaving it floating here like a discarded shell. ¡°Must¡¯ve been transmitting something important, something that someone didn¡¯t like,¡± Diego said, voice low as he examined the damage. ¡°But the acid didn¡¯t get it, did it? These marks, they¡¯re all blunt force, maybe even some tool marks.¡± ¡°Maybe someone didn¡¯t want anyone else getting the message,¡± I replied, a sense of unease prickling at the back of my mind. ¡°The kind of stuff these scrappers find, you never know what¡¯s in it, old corporate secrets, classified tech¡­¡± ¡°Or worse,¡± Tom added with a grimace. He snapped a picture with his helmet¡¯s interface, and we drifted slowly past, the broken beacon fading into the darkness as we continued our descent. The deeper we went, the more the wreckage thickened around us. Twisted metal beams, crumbling parts of hulls, and shredded pieces of machinery drifted past in a surreal, stunned silence. This graveyard of space-faring vessels had all ended up here, their stories lost to corrosion and decay. It was eerie, but it was also a reminder of just how many lives and fortunes had been left to rust down here, a large portion of these ships were living vessels, with owners that had moved on. ¡°Whatever we¡¯re looking for,¡± I said after a while, ¡°it¡¯s down here somewhere. Somewhere in all this mess.¡± The AI¡¯s voice chimed in, calm as ever. ¡°Estimated time to target: fifteen minutes. Descent rate will remain steady.¡± Diego gave a short nod, crossing his arms. ¡°Let¡¯s just hope we find our people before they end up as part of this floating graveyard.¡± As we continued the descent, I kept an eye on the scanner, watching as it pinged with the remains of more ships and stations. Each signal was a reminder of just how vast and abandoned this place was, and how little it took for something to disappear into these depths, leaving only rusted bones and broken circuits behind. Then, as if the beacon¡¯s presence wasn¡¯t strange enough, the lights from the sub¡¯s external cameras highlighted what looked like the remains of a command module from a cruiser. It was tilted on its side, the windows shattered, and the logo barely visible through layers of grime and acid stains suggested it had once belonged to a major corporation. Diego¡¯s voice broke the silence, softer than usual. ¡°It¡¯s a graveyard, all right. Everything from personal shuttles to big rigs down here. Stuff no one even remembers anymore.¡± We each fell silent again, lost in our own thoughts as we sank deeper into the darkness. Chapter 2 The submarine¡¯s interior was cold, the quiet hum of its engines the only constant sound. After removing our bulky suits and stowing them securely in the locker bay, we each took a moment to adjust to the cramped but breathable environment. Diego stretched his broad shoulders, his arms brushing the low ceiling. Tom fiddled with his gloves, flexing his fingers as if expecting some relief from the tight confines of his suit. ¡°Never thought I¡¯d miss the cold air in the pod,¡± Diego muttered, his deep voice breaking the silence. ¡°At least I don¡¯t have to wear those contacts anymore,¡± Tom quipped, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. ¡°My eyes feel like they¡¯ve been rubbed with sandpaper.¡± I chuckled lightly but said nothing, focused on the faint static flickering across the main display. The sub¡¯s AI had been running a scan for over an hour now, searching for the missing ship. The murkiness of the acidic ocean wasn¡¯t doing us any favors. The cockpit console blinked to life with a soft chime. ¡°Captain Mark,¡± the AI spoke in its usual calm, mechanical voice, ¡°we have arrived at the coordinates of the last known location of the missing vessel.¡± I glanced at Tom and Diego, who straightened instinctively. ¡°Alright,¡± I said, leaning over to inspect the data. ¡°Let¡¯s see what we¡¯re dealing with.¡± The coordinates pointed to a small trench a few hundred meters below us. The AI adjusted the external cameras to focus on the site. Visibility was poor, but the faint outlines of debris could be seen scattered across the seabed, twisted metal fragments, corroded panels, and what might have been parts of a hull. ¡°This doesn¡¯t look like a ship,¡± Tom said, squinting at the monitor. ¡°More like the leftovers of one,¡± Diego added grimly. ¡°Could the acid have eaten through the rest of it?¡± I shook my head. ¡°If this ship was built for combat then it can take some acid, at least for a time. Something else must¡¯ve happened.¡± ¡°Something worse,¡± Tom muttered under his breath. I ignored his comment and keyed in a command for the AI. ¡°Run a deeper scan,¡± I instructed. ¡°Look for anything resembling a structure or a core component that might¡¯ve survived.¡± A few moments passed as the AI processed the request. The tension in the room was thick, the only sound of the occasional beep of the console. Finally, the AI spoke. ¡°No significant structures detected within the immediate vicinity,¡± it said. ¡°Nothing at all?¡± Diego asked, his brow furrowing. ¡°Correct. However¡­¡± The AI paused. I straightened in my chair. ¡°However what?¡± ¡°I am detecting a signal consistent with the missing ship¡¯s transponder,¡± the AI continued. ¡°The signal is currently mobile.¡± ¡°Mobile?¡± Tom repeated, his voice stained with confusion. Diego crossed his arms, his expression darkening. ¡°Ships don¡¯t just ¡®move¡¯ after crashing. Not here, not in this acid soup.¡± The AI¡¯s display flickered again, showing a map with a blinking dot moving slowly across the screen. ¡°There is more,¡± the AI added. ¡°The signal is accompanied by multiple low-power energy sources.¡± ¡°Low-power?¡± I asked. ¡°Yes,¡± the AI confirmed. ¡°The detected power sources are too weak to operate most modern technology. One of these sources matches the energy signature of the scrapper¡¯s beacon encountered earlier.¡± Tom leaned forward, his face inches from the display. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make any sense. Those beacons are designed to transmit, not move.¡± I tapped my fingers against the console, my thoughts racing. ¡°And the others?¡± ¡°Unknown,¡± the AI replied. ¡°They are consistent with older, inefficient power systems not utilized in recent technology.¡± ¡°Old tech,¡± Diego muttered. ¡°Scrappers¡¯ junk?¡± ¡°Maybe,¡± I replied, though I wasn¡¯t convinced. Something about this didn¡¯t sit right with me. If it were scrappers that we were dealing with, then where are the rest of the signals that their tech comes with? Tom shook his head, his nervous energy bubbling to the surface. ¡°This is insane. We¡¯re chasing ghosts, or worse.¡± ¡°Keep it together,¡± I said firmly. ¡°We have a job to do.¡± I turned back to the AI. ¡°Adjust our course to intercept the signal. Let¡¯s see where it¡¯s heading.¡± ¡°Course adjusted,¡± the AI confirmed. The sub¡¯s engines rumbled softly as we began to follow the blinking dot on the map. As we moved, I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that we were being led into something we didn¡¯t understand, something we weren¡¯t prepared for. But there was no turning back now. As time passed the acidic depths of Narix-6 became a more and more quiet, oppressive place. Even the hum of the sub¡¯s engines seemed muted as we moved toward the source of the mysterious signal. Outside, the murk pressed against the reinforced windows, a reminder of just how hostile this environment truly was. ¡°Distance to the signal?¡± I asked, breaking the silence. ¡°Approximately six kilometers,¡± the AI replied. Diego leaned back in his chair, his expression tense but thoughtful. ¡°What kind of tech moves like this? A scrapper¡¯s beacon, old power sources¡­ none of this adds up.¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t have to,¡± Tom muttered, his eyes glued to the sonar display. ¡°Not yet. We just need to figure out where it¡¯s going. Once the mission is complete we should be given more info, or at least Mission Control says that¡¯ll happen.¡± We sat in silence for a moment, the occasional ping of the sonar the only sound. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something. ¡°Hold up,¡± I said, sitting forward. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± On the edge of the sonar screen, a faint blip appeared, not consistent with the wreckage or power sources we¡¯d seen so far. The external cameras adjusted, and the murky water revealed a pale, undulating form just ahead of us. Tom squinted at the screen. ¡°Is that¡­ flesh?¡± The cameras zoomed in, and the thing became clearer, a tendril-like piece of organic material, faintly illuminated by the sub¡¯s external lights. It drifted lazily in the acidic water, its pale surface marred by patches of exposed muscle and bone. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°That¡¯s not possible,¡± Diego said, his voice low and wary. ¡°This acid should¡¯ve dissolved anything organic within seconds.¡± ¡°And yet, there it is,¡± I replied grimly. The three of us stared at the screen, a mix of morbid curiosity and unease settling over us. Then I made the call. ¡°AI, halt the sub,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m going out to retrieve a sample.¡± Diego shot me a sharp look. ¡°Are you serious? That thing¡¯s in acid. Even with the suit, that¡¯s a risk.¡± ¡°We need to know what it is,¡± I replied firmly. ¡°And we can¡¯t analyze it from here, and it might have connections to the missing people, although hopefully not by being what''s left of them¡± Diego didn¡¯t look convinced, but he didn¡¯t argue further. Tom just muttered something under his breath about me being insane. I suited up quickly, double-checking the seals and pressure systems before stepping into the airlock. The acid-resistant suit was cumbersome but necessary, and I carried a reinforced glass container made to withstand extreme pressure differences. It was designed to collect samples of things, though we¡¯d expected to be collecting mineral samples, not¡­ whatever this was. The outer hatch opened with a hiss, and I stepped into the acidic ocean, the weight of the suit making me walk on the seafloor. The suit¡¯s heads-up display flickered with environmental readings, the acidity levels off the charts. The tendril was just a few meters away, drifting lazily as if it didn¡¯t have a care in the world. As I approached, the details became more horrific. The flesh was regenerating. Slowly but steadily, the acid ate away at its surface, but just as quickly, new skin and muscle grew back, the process giving the material a grotesque, writhing appearance. ¡°Mark, what are you seeing out there?¡± Diego¡¯s voice crackled through the comm. I hesitated, struggling to find the words. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ alive,¡± I said finally. ¡°Or something like it. The acid¡¯s eating at it, but it¡¯s healing just as fast.¡± ¡°Regenerating?¡± Tom asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, cautiously reaching out with the container. ¡°It¡¯s like it¡¯s stuck in some kind of loop.¡± I maneuvered the container under the tendril and carefully sealed it inside. The flesh recoiled slightly, as if aware of being contained, but it didn¡¯t resist. Once secured, I turned back toward the sub. ¡°Sample collected,¡± I said. ¡°Bringing it back now.¡± The return to the sub was uneventful, though I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling of being watched. Once inside, I placed the container on the examination table in the lab. Diego and Tom crowded around, their expressions a mix of fascination and unease. The tendril twitched inside the container, its surface bubbling slightly from the residual acid. The regeneration was still ongoing, the flesh writhing grotesquely as it battled the corrosive environment. ¡°This is¡­ not natural,¡± Tom said, his voice barely above a whisper. ¡°No kidding,¡± Diego replied, crossing his arms. ¡°This thing shouldn¡¯t even exist. How is it doing that?¡± ¡°Your guess is as good as mine,¡± I said. ¡°But whatever it is, it¡¯s tied to this planet, why else would it evolve to be able to regenerate so quickly?¡± Tom adjusted his glasses and leaned closer to the container. ¡°We should leave the acid in there,¡± he said. ¡°If it generates cells even when it''s not in the acid then it¡¯s the only thing keeping this thing from going completely out of control.¡± I nodded in agreement. ¡°Good call.¡± Diego frowned, his gaze fixed on the twitching tendril. ¡°This just keeps getting weirder. First the signal, now this. What are we even walking into?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I admitted, staring at the unnatural sample. ¡°But I have a feeling it¡¯s only going to get worse.¡± We secured the container in the lab, locking it down to ensure there was no risk of contamination. As we returned to the cockpit, the sense of unease lingered. The submarine pressed forward, engines humming steadily as we descended deeper into the acidic abyss. Outside, the water shifted, the murky green-gray now tainted with a reddish hue. It was faint at first, just a trickle of color, but as we moved closer to the source of the signal, the redness deepened, spreading like blood in water. Tom stared at the external feed, his brow furrowed. ¡°Why¡¯s the water turning red?¡± The AI answered calmly. ¡°Analysis indicates elevated levels of dissolved iron particles. The concentration increases as we approach the target.¡± ¡°Iron?¡± Diego repeated, his voice heavy with skepticism. ¡°That¡¯s not normal, even for a planet like this.¡± ¡°Nothing about this is normal,¡± I muttered, watching as the crimson shade thickened. The deeper we went, the stranger the environment became. The water churned with debris, but the red tint seemed almost alive, shifting and swirling with an unsettling rhythm. Then, faint at first but growing louder, came a sound, a high-pitched screeching that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. ¡°What the hell is that?¡± Diego growled, his hand instinctively gripping the edge of his seat. The AI chimed in. ¡°The source of the sound is consistent with external interference. It appears to originate from the same coordinates as the missing ship¡¯s signal.¡± ¡°Of course it does,¡± Tom muttered nervously. The screeching grew louder, reverberating through the sub¡¯s hull like nails on a chalkboard. It wasn¡¯t constant but came in bursts, each one more dissonant and jarring than the last. Diego scowled, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me. ¡°This isn¡¯t just some malfunction or underwater pressure. That sound¡¯s got a source, and as much as I don''t like it, it sounds biological.¡± I nodded, my jaw tight. ¡°AI, can you isolate and analyze the audio?¡± The AI paused briefly. ¡°The sound¡¯s frequency spectrum is highly irregular. It does not match any known natural phenomena or mechanical interference.¡± Tom¡¯s face went pale. ¡°You¡¯re saying¡­ something¡¯s making it? Something that you can''t identify!¡± ¡°Yes,¡± the AI confirmed. ¡°And the origin point aligns with the signal of the missing ship.¡± A heavy silence fell over the cabin, broken only by the periodic screeching and the faint hiss of the sub¡¯s systems. I could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on all of us. ¡°We¡¯re reporting this,¡± I said, my voice steady but firm. ¡°AI, establish a link with mission control.¡± ¡°Establishing connection,¡± the AI replied. A few moments later, the familiar face of the mission controller appeared on the comms screen. She looked calm but slightly impatient, as though she¡¯d been dealing with one crisis too many today. She did put a section on our contract to not make unnecessary calls, but this seems important to me. ¡°This is mission control,¡± she said briskly. ¡°Status update, Captain Mark.¡± I leaned forward, keeping my voice professional. ¡°We¡¯ve located what we believe to be the missing ship¡¯s signal, but the situation is¡­ unusual.¡± ¡°Define unusual,¡± the controller said, her tone sharpening. I explained everything, the mobile signal, the accompanying power sources, the discovery of the regenerating flesh, and now the strange red-tinted water and screeching noises. As I spoke, her expression shifted from mild annoyance to deep concern. ¡°The regenerating flesh, did you secure a sample?¡± she asked. ¡°Yes,¡± I confirmed. ¡°It¡¯s contained and under constant observation.¡± ¡°Good. Keep it that way,¡± she said. ¡°But our priority is the power sources. Can you confirm their potential functionality?¡± Tom leaned into the conversation. ¡°The signals we¡¯re detecting are too low-power to operate anything modern. But one matches the scrapper¡¯s beacon we found earlier.¡± The controller¡¯s frown deepened. ¡°Low-power signals aren¡¯t inherently harmless. If these sources are somehow amplifying each other, they could pose a serious risk. Monitor them closely and notify us immediately if there¡¯s any indication they could power a warp engine or similar high-energy system.¡± ¡°What about the¡­ flesh?¡± Diego asked, his voice tinged with unease. The controller hesitated. ¡°It¡¯s concerning, but secondary for now. Our main concern is the possibility of unauthorized technology. I know this seems odd for us to be the most concerned about, especially in comparison to what you''ve seen, but we have a reason to fear this.¡± Diego¡¯s jaw tightened, but he didn¡¯t argue. ¡°We¡¯ll keep you updated,¡± I said, ending the transmission. As the screen went dark, the screeching outside grew louder, almost mocking. I exchanged glances with Diego and Tom. ¡°This mission keeps getting better,¡± Tom muttered sarcastically, his voice trembling slightly. ¡°Stay focused,¡± I said, gripping the edge of the console. ¡°We¡¯ll figure this out. One step at a time.¡± The sub pressed onward, the red-tinted water thickening around us like a bloody fog. Each passing moment felt heavier, the oppressive atmosphere closing in as we neared the source of the signal. ¡°AI,¡± I said, breaking the silence. ¡°How close are we?¡± ¡°Two kilometers,¡± it replied. The screeching reached a fever pitch, a cacophony of sound that rattled the sub and sent chills down my spine. Chapter 3 The submarine pressed forward, its reinforced hull creaking faintly as the pressure increased. Outside, the acidic ocean glowed with an eerie red hue, the murk swirling in unnatural patterns. The oppressive atmosphere weighed heavily on all of us, and even the AI''s calm updates did little to ease the tension. Tom¡¯s voice broke the uneasy silence. ¡°Uh, Mark, Diego¡­ you might want to look at this.¡± I turned to see him pointing at the container holding the regenerating flesh. The acid inside, once a translucent, pale red, had turned a deep crimson, significantly darker than what was outside. It churned and bubbled faintly as if reacting to the flesh itself. ¡°What the hell?¡± Diego muttered, stepping closer. ¡°It¡¯s like it¡¯s¡­ bleeding.¡± ¡°It¡¯s more than that,¡± Tom said, his voice tinged with a mix of fascination and alarm. He tapped a few commands into the scanner mounted on the container¡¯s base. ¡°Look at these readings. Iron levels are spiking off the charts. And this container doesn''t have any dissolvable iron in it, except for¡­ well, blood of this thing.¡± A cold chill ran down my spine. ¡°Wouldn''t that mean¡­ the red tint out there¡­ is the same as this? Blood?¡± Tom nodded grimly. ¡°Yeah. But here¡¯s the thing: if it¡¯s enough to turn an entire ocean red, there has to be a massive source of it nearby. Bigger than anything we¡¯ve seen.¡± Diego¡¯s jaw tightened, his expression darkening. ¡°And that means more of¡­ this,¡± he said, gesturing to the writhing flesh in the container. ¡°Bigger pieces. Maybe even something whole.¡± The weight of his words settled over us like a lead blanket. I stared at the container, the flesh inside pulsating faintly as if it had a heartbeat. The acid continued to bubble around it, the blood-red hue almost glowing under the lab¡¯s sterile lights. ¡°We need to alert Mission Control,¡± I said finally, forcing my voice to stay steady. ¡°If this stuff is alive, and it¡¯s spread across the ocean, they need to know what we¡¯re dealing with.¡± Tom hesitated, glancing at the sonar screen. ¡°What if it¡¯s not just spread across the ocean?¡± he asked quietly. ¡°What if it¡¯s connected?¡± Diego crossed his arms, his face set in a grim scowl. ¡°Connected or not, it¡¯s bad news.¡± I nodded, my hands gripping the console as the sub continued its descent. The AI¡¯s voice broke through the tense silence. ¡°Captain Mark, distance to signal origin is now 1.5 kilometers. The concentration of iron particles in the surrounding water continues to increase. Estimated density exceeds sustainable biological output for a single organism.¡± Diego scoffed. ¡°So, what? There¡¯s a factory pumping this stuff out?¡± ¡°No,¡± Tom said, his eyes fixed on the container. ¡°It¡¯s not a factory. It¡¯s the flesh. There has to be something down here producing it, something massive.¡± ¡°Or multiple somethings,¡± I muttered under my breath. The thought sent another shiver down my spine. The hum of the sub¡¯s engines grew louder as the AI adjusted our trajectory, bringing us closer to the source of the signal. The red-tinted water outside grew darker, swirling with unnatural currents that seemed almost alive. Every creak of the hull felt magnified, every shadow a potential threat. ¡°We¡¯re getting closer,¡± Diego said grimly, his hand resting on the hilt of his utility knife as if it would make a difference in the face of what awaited us. ¡°Closer to what?¡± Tom muttered, more to himself than anyone else. His fingers tapped nervously against the console, his eyes darting between the sonar screen and the container. I didn¡¯t have an answer for him. None of us did. All we could do was press forward and hope we were ready for whatever was waiting in the depths. The silence in the submarine grew heavier with each passing moment, broken only by the faint hum of the engines and the occasional ping from the sonar. The murky red of the acidic ocean outside seemed to seep into the air itself, staining everything with a sense of foreboding. Diego leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed, while Tom stared intently at the monitor, tracking the elusive signal. The AI''s voice broke the tension. "Incoming communication from Mission Control. Priority one." I straightened, glancing at Diego and Tom before tapping the console. The screen blinked to life, and the mission controller¡¯s face appeared, her expression tense and serious. ¡°Captain Mark,¡± she began, skipping the pleasantries, ¡°we¡¯ve received an unexpected communication regarding your mission. It¡¯s from an unauthorized source, a group of scrappers claiming to have been working on Narix-6.¡± Tom¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°Scrappers? But scrapping is illegal. They might as well be turning themselves in.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± the controller replied, her tone sharp. ¡°But they¡¯ve reached out despite the risks. Their message was fragmented, and their English was poor, but they were adamant about one thing: there¡¯s something extremely dangerous on the planet.¡± Diego leaned forward, his expression dark. ¡°They went out of their way to warn us?¡± The controller nodded. ¡°Yes. They claim the danger is tied to the flesh you discovered. According to them, the flesh isn¡¯t just scattered, it''s part of something¡­ larger. Something alive.¡± My stomach tightened. ¡°And the beacon we found earlier?¡± ¡°That beacon was transmitting an evacuation signal,¡± she explained. ¡°The scrappers used it to warn all the other scrappers about the danger before it was destroyed.¡± Diego clenched his fists, his jaw tight. ¡°So, what are you telling us to do? If this thing¡¯s as dangerous as they¡¯re saying, we¡¯re going to need more than limited power.¡± ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± the controller said. ¡°Mission Control is lifting certain restrictions on your submarine. The onboard AI now has clearance to activate additional reactors, power up energy shields, and enable weapon systems if the situation warrants it. It won''t even have to go through us now.¡± I glanced at the AI¡¯s interface. ¡°What¡¯s the catch?¡± The controller sighed. ¡°The catch is that we can¡¯t provide much more information. The scrappers¡¯ transmission was incomplete, and their descriptions were¡­ vague at best. But if they were willing to risk contacting us, it¡¯s serious. Proceed with caution, Captain.¡± ¡°Understood,¡± I replied. ¡°We¡¯ll report back as soon as we reach the signal.¡± The screen flickered off, leaving us in the oppressive quiet once more. Diego let out a long breath, his hand running over his shaved head. ¡°Illegal scrappers risking their necks to warn us. That¡¯s a new one.¡±Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Doesn¡¯t inspire confidence,¡± Tom muttered, his fingers dancing nervously over the console. ¡°I mean, what the hell could be bad enough to spook them like that?¡± I didn¡¯t answer. Instead, I turned my focus back to the sonar, where the signal pulsed steadily. We were closing in, but the dread in my chest only grew heavier. The submarine continued its descent, the red-tinted water thickening around us like a blood-soaked veil. The AI¡¯s calm updates guided us closer to the signal, but the unease in the cabin was palpable. Diego stared out the window, his expression unreadable, while Tom muttered calculations under his breath, his gaze darting between monitors. Then the AI¡¯s voice broke the quiet. ¡°Captain, we are now within one kilometer of the signal¡¯s origin. Scans indicate the presence of additional power sources, consistent with the data collected on previous scans. Additionally, the concentration of iron particles in the water has reached critical levels.¡± Tom¡¯s head snapped up. ¡°Critical? How much iron are we talking about?¡± ¡°Analysis suggests levels consistent with the biological output of multiple large organisms,¡± the AI replied. Diego let out a low whistle. ¡°So, there¡¯s more of that flesh nearby. A lot more.¡± ¡°Great,¡± Tom muttered. ¡°Just what we needed.¡± The submarine slowed as the AI adjusted our trajectory, bringing us closer to the signal. Outside, the red murk grew thicker, swirling with an almost deliberate rhythm. The sound of the engines felt muted, as if the oppressive environment were dampening everything, even sound. ¡°Captain,¡± the AI said, ¡°we are now approaching the signal¡¯s exact location.¡± My pulse quickened as I leaned forward, my eyes fixed on the monitor. The sonar pinged steadily, marking the source of the signal just ahead. But as we drew closer, the murky water seemed to press against us, obscuring the view. ¡°Tom,¡± I said, my voice tight. ¡°What¡¯s the status on visual?¡± ¡°Still limited,¡± he replied, squinting at the screen. ¡°The red tint is messing with the cameras. I¡¯m trying to enhance the feed.¡± Diego shifted in his seat, his hand instinctively resting on his utility knife. ¡°Something¡¯s not right. I can feel it.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not the only one,¡± I muttered. The sub¡¯s lights pierced the crimson haze, illuminating faint shapes in the distance. The signal grew stronger, its pulsing rhythm almost hypnotic. And then, just beyond the edge of visibility, something massive began to take shape. ¡°Captain,¡± the AI said, its tone uncharacteristically grave. ¡°We are detecting anomalous structures ahead. Preliminary analysis suggests these structures are biological in nature.¡± Diego leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. ¡°Biological? Like the flesh?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± the AI confirmed. ¡°But significantly larger.¡± The blood drained from Tom¡¯s face. ¡°How much larger?¡± The AI paused before responding. ¡°Unable to determine full dimensions. The structure extends beyond current scanning capabilities.¡± A heavy silence fell over the cabin as the implications sank in. I gripped the console, my knuckles white. ¡°Bring us in closer,¡± I said finally, my voice low but steady. ¡°Let¡¯s see what we¡¯re dealing with.¡± The submarine crept forward, its external lights piercing through the dense red haze of the acidic ocean. Every meter brought us closer to the source of the signal, and with it, a mounting sense of dread. The scanner pinged faintly, marking the anomaly¡¯s location, but the visuals on the monitor were a mess of swirling crimson shadows. ¡°Slow us down,¡± I ordered, my voice tight. ¡°I don¡¯t want to run into this thing blind.¡± The AI responded instantly, reducing the sub¡¯s speed. ¡°Velocity reduced. Current distance to the signal: 200 meters.¡± Tom tapped furiously at his console, trying to enhance the visuals. Diego shifted in his seat, finishing up a prayer before saying ¡°Maybe we don¡¯t want to see what¡¯s out there.¡± ¡°Too late for that,¡± I muttered, leaning forward as the faint outlines of something massive began to appear on the monitor. At first, it was just a shadow, an impossibly large silhouette looming in the distance. Then, as we inched closer, the sub¡¯s lights caught on the jagged edges of what looked like bone. The structure was enormous, spanning well beyond the edges of the screen, and its shape was unmistakably that of a human ribcage. Tom¡¯s breath hitched. ¡°Is that¡­?¡± ¡°Ay dios m¨ªo, a ribcage,¡± Diego said grimly, finishing the thought. His voice was flat, but his eyes betrayed his unease. ¡°But that can¡¯t be real. Nothing biological grows this big.¡± The lights panned over the skeletal structure, illuminating the cracked and jagged sternum at its center. It was split clean down the middle, the two halves shifting faintly as though the entire ribcage were alive and breathing. ¡°Oh my God,¡± Tom whispered, his voice trembling. The AI chimed in, its calm tone at odds with the scene unfolding before us. ¡°The biological structure is consistent with the tissue sample collected earlier. Multiple regenerative processes are occurring simultaneously.¡± ¡°Regenerating?¡± Diego growled, his gaze locked on the massive ribs. ¡°That thing¡¯s healing itself?¡± ¡°All the evidence points to it,¡± the AI replied. ¡°The sternum appears to function as a hinge, allowing the ribcage to open and close.¡± I stared at the screen, my stomach churning. ¡°Open and close like¡­ a mouth?¡± ¡°Or a trap,¡± Diego muttered darkly. As if in response, the ribcage shifted, the halves of the sternum grinding together with a low, bone-deep groan that reverberated through the water. The movement revealed the writhing mass within a seething tangle of tendrils, thousands of them, sprouting from the inner walls of the ribcage. They coiled and twisted like living snakes, their movements disturbingly deliberate. ¡°It isn''t just tendrils in there,¡± Tom said, his voice barely audible. ¡°They¡¯re wrapping around something.¡± I squinted at the screen, my heart pounding as I realized he was right. The tendrils weren¡¯t just moving aimlessly, they were coiled tightly around several objects lodged within the ribcage. As the sub¡¯s lights swept over the scene, the details became clearer. Among the tangled mass, we could make out the twisted remains of a spacecraft¡ªthe missing vessel we¡¯d been sent to find. ¡°There it is,¡± I said, my voice hoarse. ¡°The ship.¡± Diego shook his head, his jaw tight. ¡°What the hell is it doing with it?¡± Before anyone could answer, the ribcage shifted again, the tendrils tightening their grip on the ship and other debris. The lights caught on something else then, something even more grotesque, a series of elongated, neck-like appendages extending from the ribcage¡¯s exterior. At their ends were what could only be described as heads, humanoid in shape but utterly alien. The heads were smooth, featureless save for a vertical slit running down the center. The slit opened slowly, revealing a jagged mouth lined with teeth that extended far deeper than should have been possible. A second, horizontal mouth intersected the first, forming the shape of an upside-down T. Diego¡¯s face went pale, his hand reaching up to his cross necklace. ¡°No¡­ no! ?S¨¢canos de aqu¨ª! Get us out of here!¡± ¡°It¡¯s a monster,¡± Tom whispered, his voice shaking. ¡°A goddamn monster.¡± The AI¡¯s voice broke through the rising panic. ¡°Captain, the submarine¡¯s energy shields are now online. Additional antimatter reactor has been activated to provide supplementary power.¡± The sub¡¯s hull hummed with renewed energy as the shields snapped into place, the faint blue glow barely visible through the crimson water. ¡°We¡¯re not sticking around to find out what else this thing can do,¡± I said, my voice sharp. ¡°AI, calculate a safe distance from this¡­ creature. Maintain visual contact but keep us out of reach.¡± ¡°Course adjusted,¡± the AI replied. ¡°Repositioning now.¡± As the sub began to back away, the creature seemed to sense our movement. The heads turned in unison, their mouths opening wider as a low, the same screeching from earlier sound echoed through the water. The tendrils inside the ribcage writhed faster, and for a moment, it felt as though the entire ocean were alive, pulsing in time with the monster¡¯s grotesque rhythm. Diego crossed himself, his lips moving silently in prayer. Tom stared at the screen, his hands trembling as he adjusted the focus on the cameras. ¡°We need to report this,¡± Tom said, his voice cracking. ¡°Mission Control has to know what¡¯s down here.¡± ¡°They¡¯ll know,¡± I said firmly. ¡°But first, we need to make sure we survive long enough to tell them.¡± The creature loomed larger on the screen as we continued to retreat, its enormous form blending into the swirling red fog. For a moment, it seemed to hesitate, the tendrils slowing their frantic movements. Then, with a sudden, violent jerk, it opened its ribcage wide, revealing the full extent of the twisted, writhing horror within. ¡°Full reverse!¡± I shouted, my voice cutting through the chaos. ¡°Get us the hell out of here!¡± The AI complied, the sub¡¯s engines roaring to life as we pulled away from the monstrous ribcage. But even as we gained distance, the creature¡¯s presence lingered, a looming shadow in the blood-red abyss.