Phase 07

David's Perspective

"How did you stumble upon those sabers?" I inquired, shattering the pervasive silence that enveloped us.

"I was engaged in an inebriated aquatic exploration, and it was my profoundly feeble consciousness that serendipitously guided me towards those sabers. Fortuitously, I managed to evade the clutches of perilous crimson tendrils," Vincent responded.

"And that, my dear friend, was strictly forbidden," Kevin interjected, his disapproval palpable, referring to the inebriated diving.

"Well, at least I am still intact, unlike you. I vividly recall the misfortune that befell you when you recklessly operated a vehicle under the influence back in our college days."

"Tsk! That was unequivocally your fault."

"Oh! Pray tell, how was it my fault? Did you suffer a blow to the head, causing your memory to elude you?"

Once again, a heated argument ensued between them. Fatigued by their incessant bickering, I opted to silence the dissonance by switching off my radio. Silence promptly engulfed my entire being, while the only audible sound was that of the tranquil ocean, its rhythmic cadence soothing enough to lull one into somnolence. Desiring respite from the clamor, I longed to cocoon myself beneath a thick blanket, shutting my eyes and surrendering to unconsciousness. Noise, anathema to my senses, impelled me to habitually carry headphones to shield myself from the cacophony of the surroundings. However, the exigencies of our current underwater excursion prohibited the use of such devices.

We had ventured over thirty minutes away from the laboratory, our bodies gracefully navigating the aquatic expanse. Though I could still swim with relative ease, the intensifying current exerted considerable strain on my arms as I endeavored to propel myself forward. Abruptly, my swimming was halted when an unidentified object collided with my helmet. Suppressing panic, I endeavored to maintain composure as it struck my helmet once more. Scanning my surroundings for any signs of the source, my vision yielded no discernible answers. Alas, I was unable to locate my companions' umbilical cords; their whereabouts, much like the enigmatic object, eluded me.

A rising tide of apprehension surged within me as my heart galloped like a herd of wild horses. Seeking solace, I swiftly activated my radio, attempting to contact them. However, no response emanated from either of them, nor from the laboratory. Sensing the currents tugging me in a divergent direction, my search for answers was interrupted as the unidentified object struck my helmet once more, this time directly within my field of vision. Time seemed to decelerate, allowing me a fleeting glimpse of the source before it promptly vanished, leaving me disoriented.

"Thun—" The sound of a voice crackled through my radio, prompting an instinctive response as I fervently attempted to establish contact. Yet, I lost the connection once more.

My mounting unease stifled coherent thought, hindering my ability to determine a course of action. Fear surged within me as recollections of the peculiar turtle-like creature, with its piranha-like teeth, that had collided with me earlier resurfaced. Hastily surveying my surroundings, I was alarmed by what I beheld. Unbeknownst to me until this moment, I discovered myself merely a meter away from the ocean floor. Further compounding my distress, I found myself being inexorably pulled toward an impending precipice. Desperate to swim back towards solid ground, my futile efforts proved insufficient against the relentless force of the current. The existence of such a potent current had hitherto eluded me.

I swam tirelessly, each stroke exacerbating my exhaustion. Yet, instead of drawing myself closer to the ground, it seemed as though my exertions merely aided the current's relentless pull, propelling me further into the abyss. Prepared to surrender to the overpowering forces at play, a glimmer of hope materialized—a light drawing nearer to my location. Ceasing my efforts, I discerned the nature of the current, akin to a treacherous quicksand; the more one struggled, the deeper one sank.

Moments later, a figure materialized amidst the light that had previously captivated my attention, gradually advancing toward me. Yet, as it drew within mere meters of my person, it vanished into the ethereal depths. Doubt assailed me, questioning the veracity of my perception. However, the reappearance of the elusive light, now in rapid motion, encircling me, dispelled any illusions. I tracked its movements with bated breath, only to find myself frozen in terror as the source of its newfound speed came into view—the radiant glow emanated from a colossal serpentine creature, its monstrous body ensnaring me while clutching the figure within its maw.

"Thunder, where are you?" The voice on the other end of the radio urgently implored, rousing me from my shocked stupor.

"I... I do not know," I responded, my voice barely a whisper, devoid of strength.

"Describe your surroundings immediately! We are unable to ascertain your location," the voice persisted, its familiarity striking a chord within me.

"I find myself adrift amidst an immeasurable abyss, ensnared within the clutches of something sinister," I weakly replied, my strength waning as the world around me blurred.

"David! David! Respond!" I found myself bereft of the capacity to utter another word, my numbed body succumbing to the overwhelming exhaustion.

I surrendered, succumbing to the current's relentless pull, allowing it to bear me away. In my final moments, as I relinquished myself to fate's whims, I took solace in the realization that, at the very least, I had achieved my objective of undertaking this expedition. The specter of being consumed by the enigmatic entity encircling me became an inconsequential concern—one that my limited knowledge could not address, even if I possessed the strength to act upon it.

—Three days had elapsed since the harrowing incident—

My greatest dread does not lie in the prospect of perishing, but rather in leaving my mother behind. As I regained consciousness, my eyes flickered open, adjusting to the brilliance before me. And there she was—my mother, her gaze piercing and cold. I knew I had survived that nightmarish ordeal because of her. She had saved me from the clutches of the murky depths. But I couldn't bring myself to meet her eyes, consumed by a sense of shame, for I had failed once again, disappointing her anew. Attempting to rise, I was met with her firm resistance, gently pressing me back onto the bed. I stole a glance at her, only to find her gaze averted, avoiding my own.

"I am sorry... I have disappointed you once again," I rasped, my voice barely audible.

"You are returning to the surface tomorrow," she declared, extinguishing any strength I had left to engage her further. I remained silent, recognizing the futility of trying to alter her predetermined decision.

"—Upon leaving this facility, you must expunge from your memory all knowledge of the creatures and information you have encountered here," she added before stepping away.

"But... I saw the creature depicted in the satellite images... the serpentine entity," I interjected, halting her departure. She returned to my side, gripping my arm tightly.

"You... saw nothing. Do you comprehend?!" Her words hissed through clenched teeth, her gaze fierce as when she had been angered with me.

"But—" I began, only to be abruptly cut off.

"That creature does not exist!"

"I saw—"

"David!"

"Is that the creature this facility discovered but failed to comprehend due to its overwhelming danger? Is it the cause of the tragedy that befell this place fifteen years ago?"

"Tomorrow, you are leaving!"

"I refuse!"

"Do not test my patience, David. I can inflict harm upon you if I so desire."

"I wish to stay!" I hissed, summoning the resolve to rise against her wishes.

Without uttering another word, I strode past her, my silence amplified by the realization that this was the first time I had defied her so vocally. Regret laced my every step, for years of timidity and yielding to her desires had proved fruitless. I sought refuge in my room, seeking solace within its confines. Truth be told, I was well aware of the concealed tragedy that unfolded here fifteen years ago. Overhearing discussions within the company, I had gleaned knowledge of the incident, attributing it to the dragon snake—the very creature I had witnessed. I held an unwavering conviction that the dragon snake I beheld was the same entity responsible for the demise of the initial cohort of junior scientists dispatched to this location.

"Are you feeling unwell?" an unfamiliar voice inquired.

"I saw the emerald dragon snake," I replied, my thoughts still consumed by its menacing threat.

"It is an impossibility."

"It is real. I witnessed it with my own eyes. I am not delusional. Moreover, do not presume that I am oblivious to the events that have unfolded here due to that creature," I affirmed.

"Next time, do not venture close to the precipice. That boundary defines our limits."

"Is that where the serpent dwells?"

"Yes, and please refrain from discussing this matter outside. The tragedy of fifteen years past still haunts the denizens here. We strive to convince ourselves that it is nothing more than a figment of imagination."

"Could you summon Frans?" I requested, withholding any further comment.

"Frans is absent from his quarters," the voice responded, conveying the outcome of the connection attempt.

Clad in my coat, I embarked on a stroll outdoors. On my way to the lobby, I chanced upon Mandryx advancing toward me. In a bid to evade him, I altered my course repeatedly, yet he doggedly pursued. Tiring of this futile endeavor, I halted my movements, awaiting his approach. When he arrived at my location, I met him with my customary countenance.

"Do you require assistance, Sir?" I asked softly, maintaining my facade.

"Raiden," he uttered, causing my throat to constrict at the mention of that name.

"Thunder is my appellation, Sir," I responded, my gaze unwavering, meeting his eyes directly.

"Cease this charade of feigned ignorance, please," he implored, yet I persisted, feigning confusion.

"Pardon my actions, Sir, but perchance you have mistaken me for another," I asserted, resolute in my resolve to remain a stranger to him.

"If my presence discomforts you, please inform me. However, do not pretend to be unfamiliar," he conceded, yet I maintained my façade, smiling warmly in response.

"I am unacquainted with you, Sir," I affirmed, striving to convince him.

"Very well, if this is how you wish for our relationship to be, I shall oblige," he sighed.

"If there is nothing further, Sir, I must excuse myself. I have pressing matters to attend to," I stated, adopting an air of nonchalance in his presence.

"Uh... no, nothing. I apologize for intruding upon your time," he uttered, his expression eased by my reassurance.

"If you deem it suitable, I shall take my leave, Sir," I concluded, to which he gestured his agreement.

Finally disentangled from his presence, I traversed the distance between us. I was no longer the person he once knew—the individual who forgave readily and forgot readily. I had undergone a transformation, determined to traverse the bridge he had left for me, even as it precariously clung to the opposing edges. He had made no effort to reconcile the discord between us, and his words, when I had anticipated conciliation, had made it abundantly clear that I had failed to meet his expectations.