The descent was not silent.
The ocean outside the brass diving pod roared. It was a low, subsonic rumble, the sound of millions of tons of water vibrating against the thermal updrafts from the mantle.
Inside, the air was stiflingly hot, smelling of recycled oxygen and ozone.
"Eighty degrees," Lens muttered, his face pressed against the glowing console. His mechanical arm twitched, soldering a loose wire on the pressure gauge in real-time.
"External temperature is eighty degrees Celsius. We are literally descending into a soup pot. If the seals hold, we are fine. If they don't, we are boiled lobster."
Verdict sat on the small metal bench, his eyes closed. He held his rifle upright between his knees, his breathing slow and rhythmic.
"Stop shaking," Verdict grumbled without opening his eyes.
"I am not shaking! The hull is vibrating!" Lens snapped, adjusting his thick goggles.
"Do you know what happens to water pressure when it's superheated? It gets... chunky. The density pockets are uneven. It's like falling through Swiss cheese made of lead."
Verdict ignored him. He tapped the side of his rifle.
"How deep?"
"Two thousand meters. We just passed the continental shelf. Entering the Dead Zone now."
Lens pulled a lever. The pod shuddered as its external floodlights flickered on.
The view outside was nightmare fuel.
The water wasn't black. It was a murky, glowing crimson. Suspended in the water were thick clouds of ash and particulate matter, lit from below by the angry glow of thermal vents. It looked less like an ocean and more like the sky of a burning world.
"Look at that," Lens whispered, his voice losing its frantic edge and gaining a note of dark fascination.
"No fish. No coral. Just heat and death. The burning poison vapors (sulfur) concentration is high enough to dissolve a normal boat in an hour."
"Focus on the signal," Verdict said, opening his eyes. His pupils had narrowed to pinpricks, resembling a hawk's.
"Signal is strong. Directly below. But..." Lens paused, his Specter Eye martial soul flaring behind his goggles.
"I'm picking up movement.Life signs"
"Thought you said it was a dead zone."
"It should be! Nothing evolves to survive boiling acid!" Lens argued, typing furiously on a holographic keyboard projected from his wrist.
"Unless..."
CLANG.
The pod lurched violently to the side. The metal let out a high-pitched screech.
"We hit something?" Verdict stood up, balancing perfectly despite the swaying floor.
"No," Lens said, his face paling.
"Something hit us."
Another impact shook the vessel, this time from above. The thick glass cracked, a web of lines spreading from the center.
Through the murky red water, a shape glided past.
It was sleek, torpedo-shaped, and jet black.
It moved with terrifying speed, its skin not made of scales, but of something jagged and reflective.
"Obsidian," Lens breathed. "They aren't evolving... they're mineralizing. The thermal waste... it's coating them."
The creature turned. It looked like a shark, but something was off.
Its eyes were white and empty. Its fins looked like sharp glass. It opened its mouth, full of jagged metal teeth, and slammed into the glass again.
CRACK.
A stream of hot water rushed into the cabin, instantly turning to steam.
"Hull compromise!" Lens shrieked. "Sector 4! We're going to implode!"
Verdict didn't panic. He didn't even frown. He simply reached for the latch on the floor.
"Get us to the bottom," the sniper said, his voice flat. "I'll clear the path."
"You're going out there? It's ninety degrees now! You'll cook!"
"My cloak handles heat. You just keep driving."
Verdict pulled the emergency release. The floor hatch hissed open. The pressure differential tried to crush them, but a sphere of pale green wind erupted from Verdict's body, pushing the water back.
"Third Soul Skill: Silent Glider."
Verdict dropped into the boiling dark.
Outside, the ocean pressed in from all sides, but Verdict moved through it like a shadow. His soul skill did not just hide his sound, it let him move through the water without resistance.
He floated in the red darkness, holding his heavy rifle.
Three sharks with glass fins circled the brass diving pod. They could tell there was meat inside. One of them broke away and dove at Verdict, its tail lashing the water.
Verdict raised his rifle. He didn't use the sights. He just felt the way the water moved around him.
"Lock," he whispered.
"Fourth Soul Skill: Lock-On."
He used his Lock-On skill. A small grey mark appeared on the shark's forehead.
Verdict pulled the trigger.
There was no loud bang. The railgun hummed as its coils charged up. Then, thwip.
The metal slug shot out at thousands of miles per hour. It was so fast that the water around it turned to steam, leaving a hollow tunnel in its wake.
The bullet hit the shark right in the skull.
The creature's head didn't just break, it exploded. The front half of the shark turned into a messy cloud of blood and glass shards.
The other two sharks stopped. They didn't seem to understand how their friend had just died.
Verdict racked the bolt on his rifle. He'd done this a thousand times.
"Two left," he muttered.
He didn't wait for them to come to him. He kicked his legs and zoomed forward, feeling weightless. He lined up the next shot. The shark tried to swerve, its glass skin flashing in the dark, but the Lock-On was already set.
Thwip.
Another red cloud filled the water.
The last shark didn't stick around. It turned and disappeared into the deep.
Verdict swam over to the diving pod and knocked on the side.
"All clear," he said. He used his power to project his voice through the hull. "Get moving."
Inside the pod, Lens wiped sweat off his forehead. His mechanical arm was shaking a little as he checked the pressure gauges.
"You're a psycho," Lens grumbled into the comms. "Shooting a railgun that close to us? You're going to crack the hull, you idiot."
"But I didn't," Verdict said.
"Just get in your harness," Lens said, pushing the throttle forward.
The pod sank past the shark layer and went deeper into the heat. Soon, the red murk cleared up.
Lens stared out the window and gasped.
On the ocean floor sat a massive metal tower. It looked like a giant, rusted mountain shaped like a drill. It was as wide as a city and went deep into the ground. Giant pipes, glowing with bright orange light, ran all over it like veins.
It was ugly and looked like a massive factory.
"The Planetary Siphon," Lens whispered.
He looked at the glowing pipes and shook his head.
"The Syltharim... they weren't just mining this place. They're sucking the whole planet dry."
To be continued...