The sonar screen painted a ghost beneath them—a shape so vast it swallowed the return signal whole, pulsing with a rhythm that matched nothing natural. Marya's fingers hovered over the controls, her jaw tight.
"Do we go deeper?" Atlas asked, leaning forward in his seat.
Law answered first, his voice flat and final. "No. This ship will get sucked into the bog."
Marya interrupted before anyone else could speak, her hand slicing through the air. "So we wait." She looked up from the sonar, her gaze tracking through the observation window where the sun had begun its slow bleed toward the horizon. Crimson and amber bled across the sky, staining the mangrove canopy with firelight. "The moon will be up in a few hours."
Bō-Zak blew a lazy smoke ring that drifted toward the ceiling. "A few hours. Perfect. I was starting to miss the taste of my own boredom."
Jannali snorted. "Your pipe smoke's thick enough to choke a sea king. Maybe you should take up meditation instead."
"Meditation requires stillness." Bō-Zak's gold-flecked eyes sparkled. "I prefer my vices with a bit of motion."
Atlas stretched, his spotted fur rippling. "Motion's fine. But if we're just sitting here, someone better have cards."
Kaburo's voice cut through the cabin, dry as old parchment. "Cards. In a submarine. Chasing a phantom island based on a shattered poneglyph poem." He shook his head slowly. "This is the most absurd thing I've done since Kaido's crew tried to weaponize drunk sea kings."
"Did it work?" Marya asked, not looking up from the sonar.
"No. But the sea kings threw up a lot. Very messy business."
Atlas burst out laughing, his nub tail whipping against his seat. "Now that's a story I want to hear."
"You won't." Kaburo's expression remained stone. "It's embarrassing."
"Even better."
---
The next few hours stretched like taffy being pulled too thin. The sun sank below the horizon, dragging the last of the day's warmth with it. The mangrove channels grew dark, their shadows deepening into something almost solid. The only illumination came from the minisub's running lights and the slow climb of the moon as it crested the eastern tree line.
The water grew still. Perfectly still. Mirror-still.
The minisub cut through the surface like a blade through silk, leaving ripples that spread across the silver reflection of the moon. The image fractured and reformed with each gentle push of the hull, painting distorted versions of the night sky on the dark water.
Jannali shifted in her seat, her afro brushing the overhead with every restless movement. "Bloody hell. This is taking ages. How much longer?"
Marya sat in the pilot's seat, her leather jacket creaking as she sighed. "Maybe I should call it." She looked over her shoulder, golden eyes meeting each face in turn. "We can come back. Then we can go deeper. There's no point sitting here if—"
Atlas nodded. "Beats floating around here. My fur's starting to get damp from all this humidity. Feels like I'm swimming in my own coat."
Marya nodded, reaching for the control panel to input the coordinates. Her fingers had just touched the keys when—
Creak.
The minisub groaned, a deep metallic complaint that vibrated up through the decking. Everyone froze.
Jolt.
The entire vessel bucked sideways, throwing Marya against her harness, rattling Law's teeth in his skull. The sonar screen flickered wildly as the water beneath them churned with sudden violence.
Law snapped, "What the hell?"
A current—something massive and moving fast—gripped the rudder and tossed the minisub like a child's toy. The vessel spun, its occupants gripping their armrests with white-knuckled desperation.
Jannali cursed, "Bloody hell!"
Law called out over the groaning of stressed metal, "We need to get out of here!"
Marya's fingers fought the controls, her voice straining as the wheel bucked under her grip. "The controls are locked. I can't get—"
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