Chris grinned when he heard her words, as did Chief Bustamante and Helmsman Martinez. Cecilia continued to talk to Chris, asking him trivial questions. He answered each of her questions. He found that talking to her was useful; it kept him relaxed and helped him fight off the fatigue. The combination of his heavy task and the rising temperatures of the water around him was taking a toll on his body.
Moments stretched into hours as the first pale light of dawn crept over the Kasanaan River's horizon, casting an eerie glow across the vast, restless spectral waters. Suddenly, Cecilia's eyes snapped wide with alarm. A hundred meters off the Twilight's port bow, the river's surface churned violently, bubbling ominously and releasing thick plumes of volcanic smoke that curled into the sky. The volcano was on the brink of eruption.
Her gaze snapped to the monitor, where warning lights flickered dangerously close to red. "Captain! How are we doing down there? That thing you told me to watch? It's almost at the red line!"
Below the surface, Chris's breath came in ragged gasps, each inhale hotter than the last. His deep diving suit pressed uncomfortably against his skin as heat radiated through the water, sweat stinging his eyes inside the helmet. His visor fogged with every strained breath, blurring the edges of his vision.
"Almost there…" he rasped, voice tight with strain. "Just a few more inches… the rudder and propeller… they have to be free… before this place turns into a furnace."
The boulder was about to crumble when the unthinkable happened—the jackhammer seized, grinding to a sudden, agonizing halt. The sharp, mechanical screech cut through the tense silence.
"DAMN IT!" The captain's voice exploded from the speakers, raw with frustration and fear. The first officer and crew snapped their heads up, eyes wide with alarm.
"Captain? Are you alright down there?" Cecilia's voice trembled, her breath caught in her throat as she waited desperately for a reply.
"I'm fine…" came the grainy response, "but the jackhammer's dead. It just stopped."
Cecilia closed her eyes tightly, relief washing over her that he was safe, for now, but dread quickly followed. The Twilight and everyone aboard were trapped in a perilous grip. "Come back up, Captain! Maybe the propeller alone can shift the rock!" she urged, voice urgent, pleading.
"No!" Chris's voice thundered back, fierce and desperate. "Just a little more… I'll free this ship, even if I have to pound this rock with my bare hands!" The raw determination crackled through the comms, but beneath it, the edge of panic was unmistakable.
"Captain, please—stop! Come back up!" Cecilia's voice softened, desperate to reach him through the rising danger. "You've done everything you can. We'll find another way. You don't have to risk it all."
The seconds stretched unbearably as the weight of the moment pressed down on them all—the volcano's rumble growing louder, the heat creeping to an intolerable level, and a life hanging by a thread beneath the unforgiving water.
"Chief, will the Captain do it? Will we be able to move before the eruption?" One of the bridge crew nervously asked.
"The Captain will pull it off, don't worry." Chief Bustamante confidently told the crew, "Always remember the impossible yields, whenever the heart dares," he added, a saying that came from his family.
Chris hammered relentlessly against the stubborn rock with the broken jackhammer, each strike reverberating through the crushing silence of the deep. The searing water pressed heavily against his suit, every breath a struggle as the pressure threatened to squeeze the air from his lungs. Then, a sudden, fragile glimmer of hope—the rock shifted. His heart pounded in his ears, muffled beneath the roar of the underwater currents and the distant rumble of the awakening volcano.
"The propellers are about to come free! Ready the ship! Prepare to move the moment I give the signal!" His voice cracked through the comms, urgency sharp as the heat creeping through the water around him.
"Aye, Captain!" Chief Officer Bustamante's voice was steady but tense. He immediately called the engine room. "The captain's freeing the propeller and rudder, engines, stand by! We need full power on my mark!"
Bustamante slid into the captain's chair, eyes darting to the propulsion controls. The engines were still on standby, his hand trembling slightly as it hovered over the throttle. The ship's hull vibrated faintly beneath him, a low growl building as the volcano's fury edged closer.
Chris struck the rock again—one, two, three—he'd lost count, each blow sending a shock through his arms as sweat mingled with the rising heat that seeped through his suit. The water around him grew warmer, the distant bubbling growing louder, a sinister hiss like the breath of the earth itself. Then, with a sickening scrape, the rock finally gave way. It was no longer wedged between the propeller and rudder.
"FULL SPEED AHEAD!" Chris's shout cut through the comms, strained but fierce.
Bustamante didn't hesitate. He yanked the lever forward. The engines roared to life; the propellers began to turn, slow at first, then gaining momentum.
The ship shuddered violently as a savage shockwave slammed into her aft, wrenching the Twilight's stern wildly off course. "Sir, the stern's breaking from its axis!" Martinez's voice trembled, fear barely contained.
"Hold her steady! We need every ounce of her strength to clear the next blast!" Bustamante barked, eyes locked on the helmsman.
Martinez wrestled with the helm, arms straining as the steel beast groaned in protest. Plates buckled, joints screamed, and the very bones of the Twilight creaked like a creature fighting for its life. "Sir… I don't know how much longer she can take this. She's tearing apart beneath us!"
"Chief! Engineering reports stress fractures ripping through the port side!" another crewman shouted, panic creeping in.
Bustamante's gaze hardened, unwavering. "She can make it! She's a fighter. The Twilight's been through worse; have faith in her, and she'll carry us through this. Keep her steady, helmsman! Trust her."
In the cabins, passengers clung to hope amid screams and prayers, hearts pounding like war drums. Chief Murillo commanded with calm urgency, rallying the crew to prepare for the worst. "Get all life rafts deployed and inflated—now!"
Cecilia gripped the railing, fighting to stay upright. "Captain! What's happening?!" she cried into the comms, voice cracking.
The Twilight groaned, her steel frame twisting and straining like a living, breathing titan refusing to yield. Each agonizing creak was a battle cry, a testament to her will to survive. Inch by agonizing inch, she crawled forward, dragging her weary frame away from the fiery maw of the volcano beneath the riverbed.
Then, as if sensing the crew's faith, the Twilight steadied. The dreadful groans softened, the relentless twisting eased. With a final, resolute shudder, she sailed true—unyielding, undefeated—carrying every soul aboard away from oblivion's grasp.
The ship was not just metal and rivets; she was their guardian, their hope, their heart beating against the darkness. The crew and passengers erupted into cheers, relief flooding the air as the ship pulled away from disaster.
Tears brimmed in Cecilia's eyes as she spoke softly into the comms, "Captain… you did it. You saved us all. We're safe because of you."
But silence answered her.
"Captain?" Her voice faltered. "Captain, are you there?"
A rising panic gripped her. "Captain, please answer me!"
The cheers faded, swallowed by Cecilia's desperate cries. "Captain, please… please respond!"
Officers abandoned their stations, rushing toward the stern, faces pale with fear, hearts pounding with dread. Beneath the Kasanaan River, the truth was far more terrifying.
Chris's body hung limp, dragged mercilessly by the ship's increasing momentum. The water around him shimmered with heat, the pressure crushing, relentless. His helmet bore a hairline crack; water was about to seep through. His breath was shallow, fading fast, drowned beneath the distant roar of the volcano and the relentless churn of the propellers.
Time was running out.