The Nereus III groans.
It is a sound that vibrates in the marrow of my bones, a deep, metallic shriek of titanium and tungsten being crushed by three million pounds of water pressure per square inch. We are thirty thousand feet below the surface of the Pacific Ocean, descending into the darkest, most hostile environment on Earth.
I sit in the cramped, dimly lit command module of the deep-submergence vehicle, my hands resting on the tactical console. The air inside the cabin smells of recycled oxygen, gun oil, and the sharp, metallic tang of ozone from the magical dampeners lining the hull.
Across from me sits Commander Hayes, a veteran UN Navy SEAL with a face carved from granite and eyes that have seen too much. He is checking the loadout on his specialized assault rifle. Beside him, L
