They were plummeting, falling through a blinding column of light. Sabir couldn’t tell which way was up or down; his limbs were weightless, flailing as the endless brightness swallowed them whole. For a moment, the sensation was almost peaceful, as if gravity itself had abandoned them. But it didn’t last. The next instant, they were tumbling faster, caught in a spiraling descent, and then—


    A shock of cold water hit like a slap. Sabir’s entire body seized as he plunged below the surface, frigid water biting into his skin. It was salty and dark, thick with some strange heaviness, and for a moment, Sabir felt as though he’d been swallowed by the sea itself.


    He kicked, fighting his way upward, until his head broke through the surface. He gasped, his lungs burning as he took in gulps of damp, salty air. Around him, the others surfaced one by one, coughing and spluttering in the near-darkness.


    Zabo surfaced nearby, wiping water from his eyes. “Damn… is this what they call the ocean?” He looked around, awe mingling with unease as he squinted at the expanse of water surrounding them.


    “Not exactly,” Warren muttered as he scanned the area. “Look around—we’re still trapped indoors.”


    Sabir followed Warren’s gaze, and his eyes widened at the sight that met him. High above, shrouded in shadow and gloom, was a towering stone ceiling, its surface covered in sprawling, intricate carvings that twisted and swirled across the stone in endless patterns. The designs seemed almost alive, rippling with a faint shimmer in the murky, underwater light. It was as if each stroke of the carving captured the flow and surge of ancient tides; the stone etched with waves that curved and crashed, scenes of storms and shipwrecks woven seamlessly into the rock above.


    The surrounding air was heavy, thick with moisture that clung to their skin and tasted of salt and decay. It was an old, briny scent that seemed to sink into their lungs with each breath, filling their chests with the chill of ancient depths. Sabir inhaled, feeling the weight of the atmosphere settle over him, as if he had stepped into a place that hadn’t seen the touch of sunlight in centuries.


    He couldn’t shake the sensation that they’d stumbled into something timeless. A room pulled from the depths of an ocean that had never seen the surface, untouched by any human hand for eons. It was as if they’d fallen into a pocket of history itself, a space sealed off from time, where the only witnesses were the worn carvings and the silent depths around them.


    They treaded water, their breaths coming in sharp, shallow gasps as they took in their surroundings. The room was massive, almost cavernous, with high stone walls that loomed over them. Faint lights glowed beneath the surface, illuminating strange shapes that drifted just out of reach, casting shadows that twisted and morphed like creatures waiting to spring to life. The faint gleam hinted at something alive, something moving beneath the waves.


    As Sabir looked closer, he spotted intricate designs etched into the stone walls: waves, anchors, ships tossed on tempestuous seas. And there, positioned at intervals around the chamber, were several old, tarnished brass clocks. They ticked quietly, marking time in an erratic, almost unnatural rhythm. The sound was subtle but constant, and it sent a shiver down Sabir’s spine.


    Elektra propelled herself through the water with steady, controlled strokes, her body tense as she moved toward the closest wall. As she neared it, the dim, blue-green light glinted off the rough stone, casting shifting shadows over a series of intricate engravings carved deep into its surface. Her breathing was shallow as she reached out, fingers trembling slightly as they brushed over the cool, timeworn symbols. The engravings seemed alive under her touch, each groove a delicate maze of interlocking shapes that gave way to a single motif: a series of swirling, wavelike patterns, flowing and undulating in rhythmic sequences.


    Elektra’s gaze sharpened as she traced the loops and spirals with her fingertips, feeling the way the stone dipped and rose beneath her touch. It was as if the patterns pulsed faintly, a subtle energy thrumming through them. The wave symbols seemed to shift in the dim light, almost hypnotic, as if urging her to understand something hidden within their curves. She inhaled, letting her intuition guide her, and pressed her hand against one of the largest wavelike engravings, her palm fitting into the shape perfectly, as if it had been carved just for her.


    For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then, a sudden warmth spread from the stone into her hand, creeping up her arm, an energy both ancient and overwhelming. The symbols glowed faintly beneath her fingers, illuminating her face in an eerie, otherworldly light as the entire wall seemed to come alive with a silent hum, echoing with power.


    “Maybe these control the tides,” she muttered to herself, curiosity sparking in her eyes.


    “Wait—” Sabir began, but his words were drowned out by a deep, reverberating groan.


    The engravings flared to life, glowing with an eerie green light that seemed to pulse through the water. A strange current surged around them as the water level rose, forcing them to tread higher to keep their heads above the surface. The clocks around the room sped up, ticking faster, as if marking the rush of time itself.


    “Elektra, what did you just do?” Zabo’s eyes were wide, fear flashing in them as he tried to stay afloat in the rising water.


    Elektra looked uncertain. “I think… I activated the high tide.”


    A low, scraping sound rumbled up from the depths, splitting the eerie stillness with a sound like metal grinding against rock. Sabir’s breath caught as he whipped around, his heart hammering in his chest. Through the dim, murky water below, something enormous stirred, its hulking form cloaked in shadows that seemed to shift and stretch as it moved.


    At first, it was nothing more than a shapeless mass—a dark smudge against the gloom. But then two enormous, glassy eyes blinked open, cold and lifeless, like twin orbs of dull, weathered stone. They gleamed with a faint, sickly light, unblinking, filled with a dark, malevolent intelligence that watched him without emotion.


    The creature’s shell emerged, rough and encrusted with jagged, barnacle-like growths that jutted out at odd angles, forming ridges and spikes that seemed honed to rip and tear through anything in its path. Its surface was thick and ancient, scarred from untold battles with grooves and cracks running along its plating, each line a testament to a creature that had endured an age of darkness.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Then, one of its monstrous claws moved—a slow, deliberate twitch, shifting in the water with an unsettling precision. The claw was as massive as Sabir himself, studded with rough, stony protrusions that seemed as unbreakable as iron. He could almost feel the weight of it, a silent promise of the devastation it could unleash with a single, crushing swipe. The creature loomed below, watching them with those haunting eyes, waiting, each tiny movement of its claws a warning that it was poised to strike.


    Zabo’s face paled. “Are you serious? That thing was down here the whole time?” he whispered, his voice trembling.


    The creature stirred, scraping its claws against the stone wall that held it in place. A bone-rattling reverberation filled the chamber, twisting Sabir’s stomach with dread. The wall trembled, then cracked under the pressure, sending fragments of stone drifting through the water. With a final, thunderous crash, the wall gave way, and the creature surged forward, its claws slicing through the water with deadly precision.


    They scattered, barely evading the first strike. Sabir could feel the shockwave as one of its massive claws slammed into the water near him, sending currents that threatened to pull him back toward the creature.


    Rudiger let out a primal yell, eyes wide with fury and desperation. He thrust his arm forward, summoning shards of ice that solidified into a jagged spear, glinting cold and deadly in the murky water. He hurled it with all his strength, and the icy spear hurtled toward the creature’s shell, striking with a dull thud—but instead of piercing, it shattered into a rain of brittle shards, barely leaving a scratch across the creature’s barnacle-ridden armor.


    The monster’s cold, empty eyes shifted toward Rudiger, fixing him with a gaze that felt almost predatory, a sudden, lethal focus that froze him in place. And then, with a horrifying speed that seemed impossible for its massive size, it lunged. Its claw—thick, brutal, and edged like a jagged saw—sliced through the water in a lethal arc, moving with the inevitability of a falling guillotine.


    Rudiger twisted, trying to pull back, but the creature was faster. The monstrous claw clamped around his arm with bone-crushing force. A sickening crunch echoed through the water, followed by a spray of crimson as Rudiger’s forearm snapped under the pressure, the bones splintering. The claw twisted, and with a grotesque finality, wrenched Rudiger’s arm from his body. Blood billowed around him, darkening the water in thick, swirling clouds, and his scream pierced the air—a guttural, raw sound that hung in the cavern like a haunting echo.


    The creature released the torn limb, letting it drift in the water as if it were a piece of discarded meat, while Rudiger clutched the ragged stump, his face twisted in agony.


    “Shit!” Sabir shouted, his heart racing as he watched Rudiger Boreas stagger back, clutching the place where his arm had been. The wound gushed dark red into the water, and the crab’s eyes gleamed with a ruthless, predatory hunger.


    “Get back!” Warren yelled, shoving Rudiger toward the others. “We can’t take this thing down. Sabir, reset the tide—turn it back before we’re all dead!”


    Sabir looked toward the engravings, now partially submerged in the rising water. They glowed faintly, still pulsing with that strange green light, but the path was clear. If he could reach them, he could reverse the tide and seal the creature away.


    He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with air before plunging beneath the surface. The water was colder down here, murky and thick, pressing in on him from all sides. He swam as fast as he could, his muscles burning as he propelled himself toward the engravings.


    Above him, the creature surged toward Elektra and Warren, its massive, jagged claws slicing through the water with a force that sent ripples shuddering in every direction. The barnacle-encrusted pincers snapped open and shut, each movement accompanied by a menacing crunch that reverberated like thunder, the sound that hinted at bones crushed and broken. Elektra’s and Warren’s faces were etched with a fierce determination, but the threat loomed far too close, far too deadly. They weaved and darted, narrowly avoiding the relentless strikes, each movement faster, more frantic, as if knowing that one misstep would mean certain death.


    Summoning her power, Elektra threw her hands forward, and jagged lines of energy erupted from her fingertips, sparking to life in a dazzling display of light. The bolts crackled and sizzled, lighting up the murky water in fierce streaks as they raced toward the beast. But as they collided with the water, the force was sapped; the energy diffusing in a web of faint, ghostly tendrils that reached the creature in a barely noticeable shimmer, like faded lightning on the horizon.


    Undeterred, Elektra strained, her face twisting with concentration as she poured more power into each strike, filling the chamber with bursts of searing light. But the currents swallowed her energy greedily, rendering her attacks weak and ineffective. The creature’s thick, barnacled armor absorbed the faint residual shocks without even a flinch, its cold, glassy eyes fixed on them as it surged forward, utterly unfazed. Elektra glanced at Warren, desperation flashing in her eyes as the two of them continued to dance around the creature’s onslaught, buying Sabir every precious second they could manage.


    Meanwhile, Saliba was floundering, panic taking over as he struggled to stay afloat. His attempts to use his acid abilities were useless in the water, and he was left thrashing helplessly, his fear from the Overseer’s encounter still clear on his face.


    Sabir kicked harder, his lungs aching as he pushed himself toward the wall. He could feel the vibrations of the creature’s movements even from here, each strike sending waves that rocked him backward. He was almost there—just a few more feet.


    But the crab had noticed him.


    A shadow fell over Sabir as the creature descended, its eyes narrowing as it zeroed in on him. Sabir could feel its presence, an overwhelming pressure that seemed to fill the entire chamber. He glanced back, seeing the massive, serrated claw slicing through the water, coming straight for him.


    Fear gripped him, but he forced it down, focusing on the engravings. They were close now, glowing with an ethereal light that seemed to call to him. He reached out, his fingers brushing against the cold stone just as the water roared around him, the crab’s claw closing in.


    Sabir’s heart pounded as he pressed his palm against the engravings, hoping, praying that he could reverse the tide in time. The water was thick with tension, every second stretching out as the creature loomed closer, its monstrous form blotting out the dim lights below.


    Just as the claw was about to strike, the engravings flared, reacting to his touch. A ripple of energy shot through the chamber, the green light intensifying as if the room itself were alive, responding to his desperate plea. Sabir felt a shudder beneath his fingers, a pulse that reverberated through the stone, through the water, through his very bones.


    But the crab was relentless. Its claw crashed down, inches from Sabir, the force sending a shockwave that knocked him backward. His vision blurred as he tumbled through the water, struggling to regain his bearings. The crab was almost on him now, its claws outstretched, its eyes fixed on him with cold, unyielding hunger.


    Sabir’s mind raced. He was so close—he could feel it. If he could just reach the engravings one last time…


    He steadied himself, fighting against the pull of the water as he lunged forward, his hand outstretched toward the engravings, the crab’s shadow closing in.