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The sea was restless, rolling in long gray swells under a mist that blurred the horizon. Phantom Mat leaned over the railing of the Zandaa, his notebook clutched tightly in one hand, the spray dampening his spectacles. Avenged stood nearby, broad-shouldered and impatient, while Consciovs quietly traced patterns in the salt-rimed railing with one finger, thoughtful as always.
Suddenly, a cry split the morning air.
“The beast! Off the port bow!”
Men scrambled to the rail. Out in the fog, something massive cut through the waves — not a whale, not any known leviathan. Its shape gleamed black, metallic, unnatural.
“It’s no animal,” Phantom Mat whispered. “It’s a machine…”
A voice crackled from nowhere.
“Or maybe,” Slish sang, perched suddenly upside-down on the mast like a dangling marionette, “it’s just a toaster that learned to swim. Hee-hee!”
The sailors ignored him, though some muttered nervously.
Avenged spat into the wind. “Machine or beast, I’ll harpoon it just the same.”
“Try stabbing a frying pan, Avenged,” Slish chuckled. “See how far that gets you.”
The Zandaa pitched forward, closer. The black shape slid past, and its speed was monstrous. The impact came a moment later — a shudder through the hull, as though a mountain had struck them. Men were thrown to the deck. Phantom Mat nearly tumbled overboard.
“Careful, professor!” Consciovs cried, clutching his sleeve.
“Professor? He’s barely a breakfast pastry,” Slish interrupted, crouched by their boots, licking rainwater off the deck. “But still… wouldn’t want him to sink just yet.”
The Zandaa groaned, planks cracking. Sailors screamed as the “iron whale” circled back, carving white fury into the sea.
“It will tear us apart,” Phantom Mat gasped.
“Only if you say please,” Slish teased, his face inches from Phantom Mat’s before vanishing like a shadow swallowed by spray.
Another crash — and this time the Zandaa split. Timbers gave way, water rushed in. Avenged roared above the chaos, grabbing Phantom Mat and Consciovs by the arms.
“Into the sea, or we’re done!”
The three were flung into the icy water as the ship tore apart behind them.
They clung to wreckage, the stormless silence eerily at odds with their plight. No sound but their own ragged breaths.
Then came a ripple. The black shape loomed beneath them, vast and unnatural. A hatch slid open, light spilling onto the waves.
Avenged hefted his harpoon. “Trap or not, I’ll gut it.”
“Ha! Try gutting math homework,” Slish cackled, suddenly bobbing beside them on a barrel, gnawing on it like bread. “You’ll break your teeth before you break this thing.”
The three exchanged a look — exhaustion, fear, but also grim resolve. They climbed.
Inside the iron hull, silence reigned. The walls curved smooth, seamless, glowing faintly with phosphorescent panels. Phantom Mat’s mind spun — the scale of engineering was beyond comprehension.
Consciovs whispered, awestruck: “A palace beneath the sea…”
Slish slithered down the wall like a trick of the eye. “More like a coffin with lamps. Cozy, though. Smells like pickles.”
They were led deeper, down silent corridors, until at last they stood before a chamber vast as any cathedral. Strange instruments lined the walls, and in the center, a table of blackened steel.
A man waited there — tall, austere, his face pale as stone. His eyes burned with some inner fire, cold and unreadable.
Ukkies.
“You trespass in my domain,” he said evenly. “This vessel, the Skyhawk, is mine. The sea is mine. And you… will remain.”
Avenged bristled. “We’ll not be your prisoners.”
“Not prisoners,” Ukkies corrected, a thin smile flickering. “Guests. Indefinitely.”
“Guests who drowned first,” Slish whispered loudly, sprawled upside-down on Ukkies’ chair. “But hey, he’s polite about it, so clap-clap.”
No one acknowledged him.
That night, Phantom Mat lay awake in the chamber allotted them, staring at the seamless ceiling. Avenged paced like a caged beast, while Consciovs quietly inventoried their surroundings.
“What fate awaits us here?” Phantom Mat murmured.
“Depends,” Slish sang from the ceiling beams, swinging like a clock pendulum. “Do you want the happy ending, the scary ending, or the one where you dissolve into soup? Tick-tock, pick quick!”
“Go to sleep,” Avenged growled.
Slish grinned, teeth sharp in the gloom. “Sleep? On the Skyhawk? Hee-hee-hee. Careful what you dream of down here.”
And the iron sea around them groaned like some leviathan breathing in the dark.
Suddenly, a cry split the morning air.
“The beast! Off the port bow!”
Men scrambled to the rail. Out in the fog, something massive cut through the waves — not a whale, not any known leviathan. Its shape gleamed black, metallic, unnatural.
“It’s no animal,” Phantom Mat whispered. “It’s a machine…”
A voice crackled from nowhere.
“Or maybe,” Slish sang, perched suddenly upside-down on the mast like a dangling marionette, “it’s just a toaster that learned to swim. Hee-hee!”
The sailors ignored him, though some muttered nervously.
Avenged spat into the wind. “Machine or beast, I’ll harpoon it just the same.”
“Try stabbing a frying pan, Avenged,” Slish chuckled. “See how far that gets you.”
The Zandaa pitched forward, closer. The black shape slid past, and its speed was monstrous. The impact came a moment later — a shudder through the hull, as though a mountain had struck them. Men were thrown to the deck. Phantom Mat nearly tumbled overboard.
“Careful, professor!” Consciovs cried, clutching his sleeve.
“Professor? He’s barely a breakfast pastry,” Slish interrupted, crouched by their boots, licking rainwater off the deck. “But still… wouldn’t want him to sink just yet.”
The Zandaa groaned, planks cracking. Sailors screamed as the “iron whale” circled back, carving white fury into the sea.
“It will tear us apart,” Phantom Mat gasped.
“Only if you say please,” Slish teased, his face inches from Phantom Mat’s before vanishing like a shadow swallowed by spray.
Another crash — and this time the Zandaa split. Timbers gave way, water rushed in. Avenged roared above the chaos, grabbing Phantom Mat and Consciovs by the arms.
“Into the sea, or we’re done!”
The three were flung into the icy water as the ship tore apart behind them.
They clung to wreckage, the stormless silence eerily at odds with their plight. No sound but their own ragged breaths.
Then came a ripple. The black shape loomed beneath them, vast and unnatural. A hatch slid open, light spilling onto the waves.
Avenged hefted his harpoon. “Trap or not, I’ll gut it.”
“Ha! Try gutting math homework,” Slish cackled, suddenly bobbing beside them on a barrel, gnawing on it like bread. “You’ll break your teeth before you break this thing.”
The three exchanged a look — exhaustion, fear, but also grim resolve. They climbed.
Inside the iron hull, silence reigned. The walls curved smooth, seamless, glowing faintly with phosphorescent panels. Phantom Mat’s mind spun — the scale of engineering was beyond comprehension.
Consciovs whispered, awestruck: “A palace beneath the sea…”
Slish slithered down the wall like a trick of the eye. “More like a coffin with lamps. Cozy, though. Smells like pickles.”
They were led deeper, down silent corridors, until at last they stood before a chamber vast as any cathedral. Strange instruments lined the walls, and in the center, a table of blackened steel.
A man waited there — tall, austere, his face pale as stone. His eyes burned with some inner fire, cold and unreadable.
Ukkies.
“You trespass in my domain,” he said evenly. “This vessel, the Skyhawk, is mine. The sea is mine. And you… will remain.”
Avenged bristled. “We’ll not be your prisoners.”
“Not prisoners,” Ukkies corrected, a thin smile flickering. “Guests. Indefinitely.”
“Guests who drowned first,” Slish whispered loudly, sprawled upside-down on Ukkies’ chair. “But hey, he’s polite about it, so clap-clap.”
No one acknowledged him.
That night, Phantom Mat lay awake in the chamber allotted them, staring at the seamless ceiling. Avenged paced like a caged beast, while Consciovs quietly inventoried their surroundings.
“What fate awaits us here?” Phantom Mat murmured.
“Depends,” Slish sang from the ceiling beams, swinging like a clock pendulum. “Do you want the happy ending, the scary ending, or the one where you dissolve into soup? Tick-tock, pick quick!”
“Go to sleep,” Avenged growled.
Slish grinned, teeth sharp in the gloom. “Sleep? On the Skyhawk? Hee-hee-hee. Careful what you dream of down here.”
And the iron sea around them groaned like some leviathan breathing in the dark.
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