The sea had gone silent.
Where moments ago the abyss roared and churned with violence, now only a slow, eerie calm remained. Fine silt drifted like smoke in the water, carrying faint traces of red that spiraled upward into the darkness above. The jagged ridges of the rocky trench lay scarred, gouged by the titanic struggle that had shaken the ocean floor.
A pale glint caught the faint light. The submersible drone's search beam swept through the haze, cutting a line of silver across the blue-black void. Its sensors pinged faintly — once, twice — before locking onto a form wedged between a cluster of coral-encrusted stone.
"Target acquired," Seven's voice said through the cockpit speakers, steady and precise. "Biometric readings… faint but stable."
Sensei leaned forward over the control console aboard the Aegir, his reflection caught in the glow of the holo-map. His brow furrowed."Zoom in."
The feed focused. Through the drifting sediment, they could see him — Zander, motionless, his body limp but still clutching one of his swords. The blade was cracked near the hilt, its edge dulled from the unimaginable pressure. His breathing mask flickered faintly, low on power.
Sensei exhaled through his nose. "Deploy the retrieval arms. Now."
The drone's claws extended, moving with careful precision. It clasped the adaptive suit at Zander's shoulders and slowly began to rise. The current tugged at his limbs as if trying to keep him, but the drone ascended all the same — up through the layers of dark water, through the still-bleeding clouds of red, up toward the dim shaft of light that marked the surface.
"Pressure equalizing," Seven said. "Elevation… two thousand meters and rising."
Sensei's gaze didn't leave the screen. "Hold steady, Seven. Bring him home."
The retrieval hatch hissed as it opened. Saltwater gushed across the deck as the drone surfaced, lowering Zander's body onto the platform. Med-techs rushed in, their boots clanging against the metal. One detached the breathing apparatus while another checked for vital signs.
"He's alive," one of them said quickly. "Weak pulse, but it's holding."
Sensei knelt beside him, water pooling around his knees. Zander's hair clung to his face, his skin pale beneath the dim ship lights. He looked like he'd aged years in the span of hours. Sensei watched as the med-techs peeled away sections of his adaptive suit, revealing bruises that ran deep across his ribs and shoulders — reminders of the battle's sheer brutality.
Zander's eyes fluttered open.
Sensei leaned closer. "Zander… you're safe. Can you hear me?"
Zander blinked, disoriented, the light stabbing into his eyes. He tried to speak, but only managed a faint rasp. "Sensei…"
"I'm here," the older man said, his tone calm but edged with quiet urgency. "Don't talk. Just breathe."
The med-tech inserted a thin line into Zander's arm — oxygenated nanofluid. His lungs steadied. Slowly, the trembling in his hands eased. But his body felt heavier than ever, as if the ocean had followed him back to the surface and refused to let go.
"Where…" Zander murmured. "Where's the… creature?"
"Gone," Seven answered from nearby. The android's luminous eyes reflected off the steel floor. "We lost visual after your biometrics dipped below threshold. It retreated into the trench."
Sensei's expression hardened slightly. "You drove it back. That's all that matters."
Zander didn't answer. The memory of those massive jaws still burned in his mind — the soundless roar, the white rows of teeth like pillars, the crushing pressure that nearly folded him in half. Even now, his ears rang with the faint echo of his heartbeat thrumming through the deep.
He exhaled shakily and leaned back against the medical cot.
Hours Later
The ship hummed quietly as it drifted across the surface. The waves slapped gently against the hull, and the sky outside the portholes had begun to darken toward evening.
Zander sat upright now, a thermal blanket wrapped over his shoulders. His body ached with every breath. His right arm was bandaged from wrist to elbow — a long gash from when the Megalodon's hide had grazed him. But more than pain, what lingered in him was something sharper: the memory of movement.
That moment.
When everything had slowed — the water, the light, even the pull of gravity — and instinct had taken over. He could still feel the vibration of his swords, the surge in his muscles, the rhythm that wasn't rhythm but flow.
Flowing Current.
He flexed his hand slightly, feeling the weight of invisible motion. "So that's what it was…"
Sensei's voice came from behind. "You broke through."
Zander turned his head. Sensei stood near the railing, arms folded, the sea wind tugging lightly at his coat. "It's rare to reach a second form in the middle of survival," he said. "Most only find it through discipline. You found it through necessity."
"I didn't think," Zander admitted. "I just… moved."
"That's precisely why it worked." Sensei's lips curved faintly. "You stopped thinking and became the motion."
Zander gave a tired half-smile. "Guess that's one way to put it."
They stood in silence for a while. The sound of distant gulls echoed faintly overhead.
"You felt the energy shift, didn't you?" Sensei said finally.
Zander nodded slowly. "It wasn't strength. It was… alignment. Like the water wasn't fighting me anymore."
Sensei turned his gaze out to sea. "That's what it means to flow. The Flowing Current form isn't about domination. It's about surrendering to momentum and redirecting it. There's another form beyond it — one you're not ready for yet — but when you are, you'll know."
Zander's eyes narrowed slightly. "Another form?"
Sensei only smiled faintly. "For now, recover. You've done enough for one lifetime today."
Zander sat alone in the med bay, dim lights humming overhead. His body was recovering, but his mind refused to rest. Images replayed over and over — the flash of teeth, the crushing silence, the bloom of red. He reached over to the small terminal beside his bed and opened a private comm channel.
A soft beep, then static.
"Connecting to registered family line," the system said.
The screen flickered to life. His mother's face appeared, her expression softening immediately upon seeing him. "Zander! Oh thank God— we've been trying to reach you for weeks!"
Zander smiled weakly. "Hey, Mom."
His father's voice called from off-screen. "He's alive? Put him on speaker!"
Mom turned the camera. His father and younger siblings crowded behind her. His little sister grinned wide. "Zan! You look like a zombie!"
"Thanks, Lila," he said, chuckling faintly.
His brother leaned forward. "Did you fight one of those giant fish again?"
Zander hesitated, then shrugged. "Something like that."
His mom's face softened. "You look exhausted, sweetheart. Are they pushing you too hard?"
"I'm fine," he lied gently. "Just… long week."
They talked for a few more minutes — small, domestic things that had nothing to do with abyssal monsters or pressure thresholds. Just warmth. Just home.
When the call ended, Zander sat back, letting the silence wash over him. The hum of the ship filled the void again.
In the operations room, Seven projected a holographic display of recovered data from the undersea lab. Schematics, genetic matrices, and encrypted logs shimmered in the air.
"Project Aurion," Sensei murmured, scanning the code. "It's not just genetic manipulation. It's cross-species synthesis. Prometheus wasn't trying to create soldiers — he was trying to recreate evolution itself."
"Several files mention a second facility," Seven said. "Coordinates are partially corrupted, but pattern analysis places it within the southern ridge — possibly near the volcanic trench."
Sensei's gaze sharpened. "Then that's where we go next."
Seven turned slightly. "And Zander?"
"He rests," Sensei said firmly. "He's crossed enough thresholds for one day."
Zander leaned against the railing, the night air cool against his face. The stars above shimmered faintly, reflected in the black mirror of the ocean. For a long time, he said nothing. Then he tapped his communicator again.
The screen lit up.A familiar voice answered almost instantly.
"Finally," Callan's voice crackled through, half exasperated, half relieved. "Do you even know how long it's been, Zan? I thought you'd been eaten by something!"
Zander smirked faintly. "You're not far off."
"Wait— you're serious?"
"I'll tell you later," Zander said. "How are things topside?"
"Busy. Training's been rough. Lyra's been asking about you, by the way." Callan's tone softened slightly. "She said… maybe you'd give her a chance to explain."
Zander exhaled. "Yeah… maybe."
There was a pause.
"Good," Callan said finally. "Because the team isn't the same without you, man."
They exchanged a few more words — nothing deep, just enough to bridge the silence that had grown between them. When the call ended, Zander stared at the communicator for a long moment.
Then, quietly, he opened another channel.
It rang twice.
Then a familiar voice answered, soft and hesitant."Hello?"
Zander hesitated, the ocean breeze brushing past him. The stars rippled faintly in his eyes.
He swallowed. "Hey," he said quietly. "It's me."
The night deepened.The ship drifted onward, carried by the gentle pull of the tides.Below, the ocean swallowed its secrets once more — but something still stirred in the blackness beneath, bleeding and silent, waiting for the current to shift again.