Aurania kept a close eye on the nerves of her team as they pushed deeper into the silent station.

  The ominous scraping sound had grown louder for nearly a full minute before it paused. When it finally began again, it started moving away. Carefully, they pressed forward through corridors all blistering with signs of struggle. Bulkheads were scarred with deep gouges, control panels lay shattered, and dried blood was everywhere, painting the grated floors in abstract patterns of violence.

  They came across a research terminal with years of routine scientific observational data. But as Garrin dug deeper into the files, they found audio recordings of whispered, paranoid ramblings. They spoke of a "song from the deep," a "pressure behind the eyes," and "whispers in the water." The final entries were simply the repeated mutterings of, “it's inside my head,” over and over.

  “Look at the timestamp,” Violet said, peering over Garrin's shoulder.

  The commander glanced back at her, then locked eyes with Aurania. “Last entry was yesterday.”

  Only a few tense minutes later, they rounded a corner into a side laboratory and Amalia hissed, “Contact.”

  Everyone snapped into aligned formation. Aurania kept a hand on Garrin's shoulder as he stood pocketed in the center. She peered over Soren's head as he half-crouched at the head of their cluster, his rifle locked forward. A lone figure was pushing itself up from the floor, using the wall as support. It was a shorn, still in the tattered remains of a station uniform. As he rose, his head twitched and spasmed, as if trying to violently shake something out of its mind.

  "Hold your fire,” Garrin said, horror and pity warring in his tone. “Let me talk to him.”

  "Commander, that's not a good idea," Aurania warned.

  But he had already shrugged her hand away and pushed out of their cluster. As he got closer, the shorn let out several pained, whimpering cries, and he banged his wrist blades against the wall in a frustrated fit. Each strike filled the eerie silence with a high-pitched, metallic shriek.

  "Easy, brother," Garrin raised his hands in placation. "We're here to help."

  “Help?!” The shorn spat. His voice was raw, as if he'd been screaming for hours. “No, there's no help. Only the tests. Prove we're no threat. Serve. Yes, that's what's needed.”

  “Yeah,” Garrin answered. “Exactly right, no threat here.” He stepped closer and reached out a hand, palm up.

  But the shorn lunged, swinging a wrist blade.

  Garrin sidestepped.

  The shorn swung again, and Garrin dodged once more. Then again. The shorn fought like a feral animal as Garrin danced around trying to keep both of them alive. He ducked low and leapt forward, grappling with the crazed shorn. They crashed against a row of consoles, then through a large workbench, the sounds of their struggle echoing all around.

  Garrin managed to lock one of the creature's arms, but the other swung wild, its blade catching him in a gap in his armor just below the ribs. A deep gash tore through his undersuit, and he grunted in pain.

  His grip faltered.

  The feral shorn seized the opening, driving Garrin back against a bulkhead.

  Its arm cocked back, wrist-blade level with Garrin's throat.

  He swung—

  A single gunshot cracked through the lab.

  The creature's head snapped over, cheek nearly hitting shoulder as he crumpled to the floor. A steady stream of blood flowed from the hole in the side of his skull, pooling beneath the still body.

  Garrin stood there for a moment with a stunned expression on his face before his eyes snapped to the still smoking barrel of Amalia's rifle. His face twisted with rage. "I told you to hold your fire!”

  She dropped her barrel low and took several brisk steps toward him. "I wasn't going to just stand here and watch him kill you!"

  He held her gaze a moment more, frustration warring inside him. Then he let out an angry growl and said, “Goddammit, you're right. Thank you.” He couldn't even seem to look at her.

  Elias rushed forward to assess Garrin's wound. "It's deep, but it missed anything vital. You need stitches, but you'll live."

  "Just patch it and let's move," Garrin grunted. There were no stitches for his wounded pride.

  Aurania ordered Violet and Soren to sweep the lab while Elias worked, and a couple minutes later, Soren said he found something. She found him in a supervisor's office, eyes glued to the terminal screen. When she looked over it herself, she found both questions and answers.

  “Hey, Garrin!” She hollered. “This place is just supposed to be research and observation, right?!”

  “Correct,” his voice echoed from the other side of the lab. “Why? You find something that says otherwise?”

  “Yeah,” she answered flatly, glancing at Soren. “Harvesting schedules. Maintenance reports on mining equipment. Storage logs of reef minerals measured in tons, way more than one would need for just scientific analysis.”

  The commander approached, pulling his armor back into place. “So they've been excavating like it's a resource.”

  “Looks like it,” she said. Then she told Soren to download the data.

  Garrin stared back with a hard look, the gears turning in his mind. Finally, he said, “Feels like only one piece of the puzzle. Let's keep looking, see if we can find the rest.”

  As soon as they pushed out of the lab, a low, keening sound, almost like a distant whale song, vibrated through the station's hull. It was so faint, Aurania thought she may have imagined it.

  But Elias said, “What the fuck was that?”

  The rest of them exchanged wary glances.

  “That's what I was sensing on the way down,” Soren said.

  After a moment, Aurania said, “Let's keep moving.”

  All was quiet for several minutes—too damn quiet. They met no more immediate threats, but bodies were everywhere. And the places there weren't bodies, there was usually at least a piece of one—a finger here, a foot there, still in its boot.

  Garrin steadily grew more twitchy as well. Twice she noticed his head shake all too similarly to the shorn he'd fought. They began moving down a long hallway, the ceilings and walls made of immensely thick glass that would give a view of the aquatic life around if the power was still on. Halfway through, a full shoulder spasm twitched down Garrin's entire arm.

  Then he started muttering to himself.

  “No, that doesn't sound right,” she barely heard him say. A few seconds later, “Why? Why?!” It was like he was arguing with an imaginary friend and trying to not let any of them notice.

  They all watched him like he'd just turned neon pink. The group slowed to a stop and he just… kept on walking, muttering and shaking his head. He went all the way to the end of the hall and into another room.

  “Commander?” Elias called out cautiously.

  Garrin ignored it, letting out an amused chuckle instead—they could see his shoulders shaking from how hard he laughed. Then he turned, walking out of sight.

  A moment later, he called out in an upbeat tone, “Found something!”

  They slowly moved into the room, watching him like a ticking bomb. He looked up, his expression as easy as if nothing in the world was wrong. Aurania moved to view at the terminal he was scanning, subtly motioning the rest of the team to keep their distance. She kept her grip firm on her greataxe and looked at the screen. ‘Note: Unforeseen impact on local megafauna migration patterns. Increased aggression noted in Pyrexian Stalker and Euchilles populations.'

  “Stupid motherfuckers knew they were pissing things off down here,” Garrin said. “They just didn't care.”

  “So what happened to this station?” Amalia asked.

  “Holy shit…” Aurania muttered. She punched a couple buttons and threw a video file she found onto the room's large screen.

  The recording showed something massive moving in the water, too big to be seen entirely. It looked like some massive tree trunk—tall, wide, dark—but then it smoothly bent.

  “Looks like one of those tentacle creatures we saw on the way down,” Elias noted, “but much, much bigger.”

  “‘The Gitaxan’” Aurania read off the terminal. Her eyes darted up to Garrin, then the rest of her team. “The mother of all euchilles. Station logs say it fits descriptions of local myth.”

  “I'm thinking the mining attracted that thing and it drove the people here insane,” Garrin surmised. “It could be the source of the whispers chasing us down that last hallway.”

  Everyone's gaze snapped onto him.

  His eyes darted between each of them. “What?”

  Aurania turned to fully face him. “What whispers?”

  He recoiled, looking around at everyone. When his eyes landed on her again, he said, “Surely you're joking. None of your heard whispers on the way into this room?”

  “No,” Aurania said flatly.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Oh, come on!” He exclaimed. “We were all making jokes and responding back like it could hear us!”

  “Is that why you laughed when you walked into the room?” Elias asked.

  “We all laughed!”

  “No, Commander,” Violet said firmly. “That was just you. We were over a hundred feet behind you.”

  He looked flabbergasted. “Wh-what the fuck is going on.”

  Before anyone could respond, something shifted in a tall locker on the other side of the room. Everyone's weapons snapped toward it.

  Silence.

  Soren cautiously approached. He reached out and tapped it with a fingertip.

  “Somebody out there?” Came a manic whimper. It muttered so fast it was almost hard to keep up. “Fishy, fishy, fishy? Coming to eat me, too? You can't get me, little fishy. Not in here. I'm safe behind my walls.”

  They were all too stunned to speak.

  Then Garrin murmured, “Please tell me you guys hear that one.”

  Aurania held up a hand, silencing the team, then moved up next to Soren. "We're not here to hurt you. We're with the Liberty Union. We're here to help."

  "Help?" The voice giggled. "You're just like the others! Walking snacks for the shorn! Chomp, chomp, chomp!" A crazed laugh echoed from within. "When the shorn went insane and started killing everybody, I locked myself in here! I'm safe! Nothing can hurt me in here!"

  "What made them insane?" Soren asked.

  "Don't know! Go ask them!" the voice shrieked with another peal of laughter. "When the demon screamed, it shook every mind in the station! We fell to the ground, but we survived. The shorn, though... they just got hungry!"

  "We need to get you out of there," Aurania said firmly. "This station isn't safe."

  "Ha-ha! That's what you think!" the voice cackled. "Fishy think that too! This locker is reinforced! I'm invincible behind my walls! Nobody's getting in here!"

  Aurania’s patience was wearing thin. She looked at her team, then back at the mentally unhinged locker. She opened her mouth to respond—

  And a piercing shriek tore through the station, a noise both high and low at the same time. It reverberated both in their ears and directly in their minds, like a hot, psychic blade of pure agony that stabbed directly into their consciousness.

  Everyone staggered.

  Elias and Amalia dropped to one knee, clutching their heads. Violet let out a sharp cry, her rifle clattering to the floor. Soren and Aurania both reached out, grasping each other's shoulders in reflexive instinct to steady their balance. She caught a glimpse of silver-green and gold through the mental link as he fought to hold himself in check.

  And then the locker flew open.

  A d'moria bolted out, clawing at his own head. "MAKE IT STOP! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"

  Aurania tried to grab him but the man was almost three feet shorter than her. Her grasp just brushed the top of his head as he ran toward the team. Just before he made it to them, Garrin tackled the stout man.

  But the commander was unwell.

  He sat up, straddling the d'moria, and let out a feral scream like some cornered animal. His eyes rolled back in his head as drool ran freely from his mouth.

  “HE'S TRYING TO EAT ME!” The d'moria yelled.

  “N-NO!” Garrin hollered.

  The d'moria pulled a knife.

  He stabbed Garrin in the thigh.

  The commander growled in pain and punched the man. Even in the midst of the psychic onslaught, Garrin's muscle memory kept him from touching the man with his wrist blades. But the d'moria pulled the knife out and tried to stab again. Garrin caught his wrist with one hand, his other holding the man's face.

  The d'moria began thrashing his entire body beneath Garrin.

  “S-stop!” The commander tried yelling.

  “I'll not get ate!” The d'moria yelled, and he shoved everything he had into twisting his torso. Aurania couldn't tell what happened next, but the d'moria let out a choked sound and went limp.

  The strange screaming grew quiet.

  “No!” Garrin yelled out. “Goddammit!”

  Aurania stood straight and moved towards them. The d'moria had thrown his weight into Garrin's wrist blade. It sheared clean through his long beard and cut his throat deep. Lifeless eyes stared up as the thick facial hair grew crimson.

  Garrin looked up at her, a weary, disgusted look on his face. “I hate this fuckin’ place.” His hands were shaking and his breathing was ragged.

  Elias moved up, already pushing past the lingering shock. He knelt down and checked the d’moria’s pulse, but he was gone. Elias turned his attention to the wounded thigh. "Garrin, look at me. How are you feeling?"

  “I’m fine,” Garrin spat in stubborn frustration.

  Elias pulled an injector from his kit. "I'm giving you something for the pain. Whatever that thing is, the agony is just making you more susceptible to its attacks."

  "I don't need a damn thing," Garrin snarled, trying to shove Elias's hand away, but his movements were sluggish and uncoordinated.

  "You're not thinking clearly, Commander," Violet said sharply.

  “Yeah, you’re not yourself,” Amalia added in a small but fiery tone. “You’re always mission focused, but you’re never this much of a stubborn jackass.”

  That made him pause just long enough for Elias to jab him with the injector. He winced. After a moment of pouting, Garrin looked up at Aurania. “You always let your team be so mouthy?”

  Aurania glanced at Amalia, then Violet, then back at Garrin. “If anything, they keep me in line.”

  He chewed on that for a moment before setting his jaw and saying, “Yeah, well that may be how you run things, but…” he pushed himself to his feet. “This is my op.”

  Elias stood up, his hands hovering over the commander. “You might want to sit down."

  Garrin ignored him and jabbed a finger at Aurania. "This may be your team, but I'm in command here!" His breathing grew labored and he squinted. “I’m in charge! And you can't... you can't change that... just by getting all... bendy."

  Aurania’s brow unfurrowed in an instant, her demeanor switching from hostility to bafflement. "All what?"

  Garrin started swaying where he stood, his gaze no longer focused on any of them. "You've got the... the light... from the console..." He gestured vaguely toward the terminal. "Keeps you... lifts you up... They shine like..."

  His hand started grabbing at the empty air as if trying to catch fireflies only he could see. He smiled like a blissful child. "...little angels..."

  He fell face first onto the floor with a loud THUD.

  Aurania stared dumbfounded at the unconscious commander. She looked back at her team. They all returned stupefied looks.

  "Did he just go crazy and fall asleep?" Amalia asked.

  Elias let out a long sigh. "I told him to sit down."

  Aurania’s head whipped back toward him and a slow grin spread across her face. "You doped him."

  "Yeah," Elias shrugged, moving to check Garrin's vitals. "Whatever's going on around here obviously hits shorn harder. It's not really his fault he's acting like this, but he was getting to be a bit of a nuisance."

  "Thanks," Aurania breathed.

  Amalia strode over and hoisted Garrin over her shoulder. With a small, playful smile on her face, she muttered, “Come on, sleepyhead.”

  “Alright,” Aurania said, eyes sweeping her team. “I think we found the answers we need. The harvesting pissed off the local wildlife which then retaliated. Let’s get out of here and give our report to the LU. They can determine how to proceed.”

  Violet looked back toward the long, glass covered hallway. “You think those creatures out in the water will let the submersible get back to the surface in one piece?”

  "We don't have a choice," Aurania answered. "We don't have a way to destroy the harvester. Our priority is to get this intelligence—and Garrin—back to Shelkar City."

  “Really?” Soren asked. “You're not going to just volunteer me to go out and try destroying the equipment? If a black hole couldn't kill me, I don't think a bunch of water will."

  Aurania's head snapped toward him, eyes glaring. "As much as I appreciate you offering, this is more than 'a bunch of water.' The pressure out there is enough to crush most people alive. Even a shorn wouldn't survive without acclimating for several hours."

  She took a step closer, vaguely gesturing all around them. "It would hurt like hell if I sent you out there. The pressure, the cold, the creatures that would be actively trying to tear you apart. I'm not going to just order you to go get tortured like it's no big deal."

  Soren was quiet for a long moment. He looked too stunned to speak. Finally, he just quietly said, “Oh. Well… thank you.”

  Through the mental link, she felt a warm rush of emotion from him, a wave of appreciation so strong it almost made her flinch. She got the feeling he wasn't used to being treated like a life worth protecting, even before he was basically invincible.

  They started back into the long, glass-walled hallway, and three insane shorn were already sprinting toward them.

  "Shit, contact!" Violet yelled.

  Aurania growled as the last few encounters flashed through her mind. In a couple quick seconds, feral shorn blades would be hacking at their armor. “Engage. Lethal force.”

  Soren and Violet opened fire, just a few short bursts and the shorn crumpled to the floor, bodies skidding to a halt. As they walked past, Soren muttered, "I wish we could just knock them out like in the movies.”

  "Yeah," Elias responded. "Unfortunately, in real life, that's just a great way to give someone permanent brain damage."

  They pushed down through the hallway, but something was off. The station no longer felt quiet. There was no noise that Aurania could point out and say what she was hearing, but there was something, and it was coming from out in the water.

  Violet shone the light from her rifle out into the ocean.

  They were everywhere.

  Pyrexian sharks, dozens of euchilles, and even more insane shorn were swarming in a chaotic frenzy, slamming their bodies against the glass in a desperate attempt to get in. And through the crowd, a massive shadow was moving. The silhouette of a tentacle belonging to the Gitaxan was growing larger.

  Too late, Aurania realized it was getting closer—fast.

  It slammed into the glass and the entire structure shook. The floor bucked underneath them. The tentacle pulled back, revealing a crack in the thick, reinforced glass.

  "Move!" Aurania screamed.

  They made a mad dash for the blast door at the far end of the tunnel as the structure shook a second time.

  A couple seconds later—

  CRACK.

  She could hear the hellish roar of water exploding into the tunnel. They were too far from the end. They continued to run, but she was sure they would die here.

  Silvery-green and gold in her mind.

  Blinding white light erupted in her peripheral vision. She stumbled, looking back over her shoulder, and stopped dead in her tracks.

  Soren stood there, his hair and eyes burning far brighter than the lab in Altina. He had one palm held toward the water, his hand violently shaking with effort. The air around him warped and shimmered as he held back the crushing weight of the ocean with nothing but his will.

  "Woah," Aurania breathed, completely awestruck.

  He looked over at her, his face snarling with strain.

  "Run."

  The sound of his voice resonated so deep that it sounded like the planet itself was speaking. His other hand came up and a blast of kinetic force shot toward them. It slammed into them, and they all went flying down the tunnel.

  Aurania rolled as she hit the floor in the room beyond the hallway. She immediately scrambled up and slammed her hand on the emergency release for the blast door. With a loud hiss and a boom, it slammed shut, sealing them off from the flooded corridor. She turned back and saw that everyone else was on the floor, gasping and clutching their chests.

  "How the fuck are you standing?" Violet choked out.

  Aurania looked down at her, confused. "What do you mean? What's wrong?"

  "I feel like—a freight train—hit me in the lungs," Amalia gasped.

  Aurania looked at her own hands, then at the others. "I feel fine." A realization dawned on her. For whatever reason, Soren's power had affected her differently.

  "Do you think he's okay in there?" Elias asked, his voice tight.

  Aurania looked at the sealed blast door, wondering the same thing. She closed her eyes, reaching out through the mental link to see what he was feeling.

  Squeezing.

  Cold.

  An ocean of pressure from all sides at once. Her hands flew to her head as she felt the crushing agony. She dropped to her knees and tears ran down her cheeks. She was feeling him drown in a way no mortal was ever meant to experience. He had no air in his lungs.

  Aurania screamed.