The silence of the abyss pressed in around Zander. He hovered in the ink-black water, his bioluminescent suit casting faint ripples of light that flickered against the ruins below. The glow from his chestplate pulsed slowly, like a heartbeat, sending streaks of pale blue into the dark—then fading again into nothingness.
He waited. Nothing moved. Only the rhythmic whisper of his oxygen regulator filled the void.
He exhaled. Bubbles spiraled upward, shimmering briefly before vanishing into the unseen ceiling of the ocean. His grip on the swords tightened, fingers flexing against the cold, pressurized water.
Then—he saw them again.
Two orbs. Faint. Yellow. They hovered in the dark like distant lanterns, dull at first… until they blinked. And moved.
Zander's pulse quickened. The eyes were massive—far larger than before. They swayed from side to side, disappearing into the murk, then returning… closer this time.
He whispered to himself, barely audible through his breath: "Is that… is that a—"
The water in front of him exploded.
A cavernous mouth, lined with serrated teeth the size of swords, lunged from the darkness. The world turned into a blur of motion and pressure as Zander twisted backward. He barely managed to wedge both blades between the creature's jaws before they clamped down.
The impact rattled his bones. The beast's maw slammed shut, grinding against the metal. A thunderous roar rolled through the depths, shaking his chest and skull.
He screamed through gritted teeth, forcing the blades apart as the creature tried to swallow him whole. Its strength was monstrous. Then it surged forward—dragging him through the water like a rag doll.
Pressure crushed against him as the creature dove deeper. His visor blinked warnings—depth critical, oxygen dropping fast.
Below, the seabed stretched into faint shapes—ancient structures half-buried under coral and time. Every breath burned like molten iron.
He had seconds before his body would give in.
Twisting his body, Zander drove one blade downward. The edge bit into the creature's lower jaw, slicing across its hide. Blood clouded the water, dark as ink.
The beast convulsed and released him, its tail whipping sideways with a violent burst of power. Zander spun through the water, slamming into a coral ridge.
His shoulder cracked. His visor split. Pain flared bright and hot.
He looked up—heart pounding. The silhouette loomed above him, vast and ancient. Scars covered its body, some glowing faintly with embedded bio-tech. Its fins sliced the water like living scythes. This was no mere animal. The pressure it exerted felt like a physical weight, a domain of crushing intent that warped the water around it. Every cell in Zander's body screamed at him to flee, a primal terror that went beyond simple fear. This creature was a relic, a survivor of epochs long past, and its very existence was an affront to the natural order.
For a moment, all he could do was stare. His lips moved without sound. Megalodon.
The word echoed in his mind like thunder. But it was more than that. The bio-tech wasn't just embedded; it was fused, ancient and corroded, suggesting this beast was a living weapon from the same era as the ruins below—a forgotten guardian or a failed experiment of immense power.
He tore his gaze away and fumbled at his belt. His oxygen was nearly gone. He reached for the emergency capsule Sensei had given him—a slim metallic mouthpiece etched with micro-runes.
He bit down on it and pressed the latch. Cool oxygen rushed into his lungs.
He had time again—an hour at most. The relief was a cold, sharp thing. It didn't bring comfort, only clarity. He remembered Sensei's words from a training session years ago, his voice calm amidst the fury of their sparring. "Against an opponent you cannot overpower, Zander, you must become like water. Do not meet force with force. Flow around it. Find the cracks, the moments of imbalance. A mountain can be toppled by a single, perfectly placed pebble." But looking at the Megalodon, Zander couldn't see any pebbles, only an endless mountain of muscle and teeth.
The Megalodon circled above, massive and deliberate. Zander kicked hard toward a cluster of jagged rock pillars—a spire formation like broken fangs. If he could get inside, maybe it couldn't reach him.
He darted between the rocks just as the beast lunged. Its snout slammed into the stone, shaking the entire formation. Pebbles and silt cascaded downward.
The creature drew back, circling slowly this time. Watching him. Learning. An unnerving intelligence radiated from it. It wasn't just a mindless predator; it was studying him. A cold wave of pressure, distinct from the water, washed over him. It was the beast's will, its ancient consciousness probing his own. The feeling was invasive, like icy needles sliding into his mind, and he had to clench his jaw to keep from crying out.
"Come on… come on…" Zander whispered, forcing himself to focus. He recalled another lesson, a sword form meant for defense: the 'Turtle Shell Stance.' He drew what little energy he could muster, letting it flow through the circuits of his suit and into the blades, creating a subtle energy field that deflected the creature's mental probe.
He wedged himself deeper between the rocks, dimming the light from his suit until it was almost invisible. The world went shadow-dark again.
Outside, the Megalodon glided past like a moving mountain. Its silhouette blocked out all light. One swing of its tail could crush the entire formation.
Then—silence. An unbearable, waiting silence.
The ground shuddered.
A deafening crack.
The Megalodon rammed the rocks. This time, it wasn't a blind charge. It struck a key support pillar he had noted just moments before. It knew.
The formation groaned and split. Zander darted aside as a slab of stone sheared away. Dust filled the water, turning everything into a storm of gray.
He could barely see—but he felt it moving. The current shifted. Then the monster's head burst through the haze, eyes blazing, jaws open wide. Zander didn't retreat. He shot forward, channeling his momentum into a sword technique Sensei called 'Starlight Pierce.' It was a thrust designed to concentrate all force into a single, armor-breaking point. He aimed for the glowing bio-tech embedded near its gills.
His blade scraped across thick hide. A line of dark blood trailed behind the beast—but the wound was shallow. The hide was tougher than any alloy he knew, and his attack, which should have pierced a tank, barely left a scratch. The beast hadn't even flinched.
It roared, the sound vibrating through his entire body. The creature's tail swept through the water like a hurricane. Zander was thrown hard against the rock face, pain flashing white across his vision.
His suit lights flickered. The display sputtered. Warnings danced across his visor—oxygen fluctuating, pressure unstable. He knew he was outmatched. Brute force was useless. Evasion was only delaying the inevitable. He had one chance, one desperate gambit. The bio-tech implants. They glowed with an internal energy. If they were a source of its power, perhaps they were also a vulnerability.
"Sensei… Seven," he breathed. Only static.
High above, in the drowned laboratory, Sensei's voice crackled faintly through the comms: "Zander? Zander, do you copy? Where are you?"
But down below, Zander couldn't respond. He was too busy staying alive.
The Megalodon dove again.
Far above, Sensei frowned at the monitor. "He's not responding."
Seven looked up from the console, holographic screens still flickering with lines of data. Fragments of Project AURION scrolled past—genetic matrices, hybrid embryo sequences, experimental logs. "Comms are severed. His bio-signature locator just went offline." Seven's fingers flew across the console, pulling up deep-sea sensor logs. A massive energy anomaly bloomed on the screen, a blot of crimson that dwarfed everything around it. "Sensei… look at this reading. It's off the charts. It matches the energy signature of… Specimen 001. The Leviathan."
Sensei's tone dropped. "His vitals spiked… then vanished."
Silence. Only the hum of decaying machinery.
"Something's down there," Sensei murmured. "Something big."
Below, Zander floated in the darkness, chest heaving. The faint glow from his suit pulsed like a dying star. He ignored the pain, the cracked visor, the failing systems. His mind was clear, narrowed to a single point of focus. The beast was turning, preparing for its final attack.
He raised his swords again. Tiny bubbles drifted from the mouthpiece toward the unreachable surface.
And then, through the thick haze, those golden eyes returned—closer now. Watching. Waiting.
He felt it—the raw, primal certainty that he was no longer the hunter. He was prey, fighting a god of the deep. But even gods could bleed.
The Megalodon opened its jaws. The abyss erupted with sound—an ancient, rolling bellow that seemed to come from the ocean's own heart.
Zander braced himself. He angled his swords, not in a block, but in a low, ready stance. He would let it come. He would have only one instant. The fight of his life had just begun.