The wind was still hot even as the sun sank below the horizon.
Peace had never truly existed here—not for the last twenty years. But now it was worse. The northern forces had grown stronger. The raiders had arrived.
Iron drones shaped like seagulls flew low over the city, scanning every street and ruin with pulsing green light. The light stayed green unless the raiders detected what they were hunting—fugitives, high-density technology, or something even the Landers didn't fully understand.
In the distance, massive ships roared as they docked at the main harbor.
Six months after the invasion, Penana was no longer a city. It was debris. Artillery fire from raider warships had torn it apart—missiles, electromagnetic cannons, automated barrages that left nothing standing.
Beneath the collapsed skyscrapers, Ayra remained still inside the Abyssal Vein.
It was a hidden tunnel system—hidden only in theory. Built beneath the floating city, it formed a network of secret routes, similar to underground passages. Only this wasn't land anymore. Most of the ground had long been swallowed by the sea.
Through a digital periscope, Ayra watched the remains of the place she now called home. The image didn't move. Neither did she.
A century ago, scientists had warned the world. Polar ice melting. Sea levels rising. Coastal cities sinking.
The world chose not to listen.
Governments argued over profit and comfort. They built massive sea walls, invested in water purification, and pretended it was enough. They forgot one thing.
The ocean cannot be controlled.
Warnings about sea levels rising more than three meters became nothing more than discussion points in conference rooms. The world kept consuming. The economy kept growing. Sustainability was ignored.
When cities began to drown, mass migration followed. People fled to higher ground until there was nowhere left to go. Until only places like this remained.
"Ayra, I have a plan," her sister whispered.
Kezia's eyes darted constantly as she spoke. She wasn't Ayra's sister by blood, but they had grown up together. That was enough.
"The Abyssal Vein won't stay hidden forever," Kezia continued when Ayra didn't respond.
Ayra remained silent, focused on the periscope.
"We can't just stay here and wait to be rescued."
Finally, Ayra lowered the device and folded it into her pocket.
"Go on," she said.
She studied Kezia as she waited—bio-adaptive armor stolen from one of the floating city's elites, hair stained reddish from abrasive seawater exposure, wide eyes that reminded Ayra of people long gone.
"We dive," Kezia said. "We leave this dead city behind."
Even as she said it, Kezia knew how impossible it sounded. The raiders had ruled the seas for thousands of years. Escape by swimming wasn't new to them—and it never worked.
Their warships were built with hybrid nanosteel armor, reinforced micro-carbon structures stronger than titanium yet impossibly light. They could reach speeds over a hundred knots and turn sharply without losing control. Some sections even repaired themselves using self-healing alloys.
Beneath the deck, ultra-sensitive sonar systems operated constantly. Human heartbeats could be detected within a twenty-kilometer radius.
"Diving out there is suicide," Ayra said.
She stared through the floating city's machinery, as if she could see beyond it. Survivors still existed in Penana—those lucky enough never to face the raiders directly. Those not imprisoned. Not fed to the monsters the raiders supposedly bred.
Monsters that no one had ever seen.
Neither Ayra nor Kezia wanted to confirm whether the rumors were true.
Ayra checked her armor and sat at the open edge of the Abyssal Vein. The tunnel system was supported by ballast tanks and submerged chambers that kept what remained of Penana afloat.
"Their detection capabilities are beyond anything we can imagine," Ayra said. "That sonar won't let us pass unnoticed. We'd need to swim eighty-seven kilometers just to get clear."
She paused.
"And we don't know what's waiting beyond Penana. The raiders might not be the only tyrants left."
"We won't know unless we try," Kezia said.
It was always like this. Kezia pushed forward without a plan. Ayra felt the pressure build, forcing her to think for both of them.
The Abyssal Vein was deteriorating.
Oxygen levels were never meant for this many people. Waste couldn't be dumped outside without attracting attention, so it piled up and rotted where it lay. High pressure and low oxygen made decomposition more dangerous than on the surface.
Ammonia and hydrogen sulfide filled the air. The heat rose slowly from fermentation reactions.
At the far end of the corridor, a man ate a synthetic ration bar. It was banned—local scientists had warned it damaged digestion—but there were no better options.
Night fully fell.
The corridors of the Abyssal Vein glowed blue-green—not from lamps, but artificial bioluminescence designed to reduce power usage. The system was old and unstable. Sometimes the light flickered weakly. Sometimes it flared too bright.
Rusted pipes and cables lined the walls. Some still carried power or clean air from above. Others leaked fluids no one bothered to identify.
The smell was unavoidable. Rusted metal. Salt. Rotting organic waste. The air felt heavy, as if every breath carried poison.
Kezia swayed, close to passing out.
Maintenance stations—once sealed and functional—now lay in ruins. Large holes opened directly into the dark sea below. Pressure differentials and charged particles kept the water out, like a submarine's hull. Only a massive disturbance would break the barrier.
The machines left behind were nothing more than forgotten relics.
They settled down to rest.
Ayra lay still, eyes closed, but sleep never fully came.
Every possible route replayed in her mind. Every mistake. Every delay. The Abyssal Vein creaked softly as pressure shifted somewhere far below.
Kezia's breathing was shallow beside her.
Then Ayra felt it.
A vibration.
Not strong. Not violent. Just enough to be wrong.
She opened her eyes.
The portable lights flickered once, then steadied. Dust drifted from the ceiling.
Ayra sat up slowly.
The vibration came again—shorter this time. More precise.
She pressed her palm to the metal floor.
Warm.
That wasn't normal.
"Kei," she whispered.
"What?" Kezia murmured.
"Did you feel that?"
Kezia frowned. "Feel what?"
Ayra didn't answer. Her gaze moved down the corridor, past hanging cables and faded maintenance markings.
For a moment, everything was still.
Then, far away, something echoed through the Abyssal.
A dull, hollow click.
Not collapse.
Not failure.
Activation.
Ayra's jaw tightened.
"We're not alone down here," she said quietly.
"Raiders?" Kezia asked.
Ayra shook her head. "No."
The vibration returned—spreading outward, rippling through the structure like a pulse.
Something old had just been touched.
Something that wasn't meant to wake up.
Ayra stood and began sealing her suit.
"We'll decide tomorrow," she said, voice steady. "But whatever this place is… it's changing."
She looked once more into the darkness of the Abyssal Vein.
For the first time since entering it, she was certain of one thing.