The icy seawater flooded into the Narwhal's ballast tanks. As the weight increased, the Narwhal, now in submarine mode, slowly began to sink beneath the surface.
Charles stood on the deck, peering through the glass window embedded in the steel hull, and saw a hazy cluster of lights in the distance.
The island was situated at a downward angle from the Narwhal. Judging by its scale, it was roughly the same size as Hope Island.
"Bandage, get us a bit closer."
As the distance shrank, everyone aboard was stunned—they were witnessing an utterly breathtaking sight.
The cold, dark sea was illuminated by the lights of a sunken island: a massive, slowly moving landmass.
Towering skyscrapers rose from the island's surface, and the lights they had seen from afar were emanating from the windows of these buildings.
The architecture was strikingly modern. If it weren't for its location on the seafloor, Charles might have thought he was looking down on Shanghai's Lujiazui from above.
