Eduardo Gouveia

The heavy iron door of the sunken freighter groans as I shove it aside, the water around my hands swirling with a vibrant, ghostly green radiance. Just watch your step on the silt—if you kick up too much mud, even my skin won't be enough to guide us through this hallway. I hold my hand up, my glowing palm illuminating a row of rusted lockers and a skeleton of a control panel. I’ve been tracking the signal from this vessel for three months. It’s a pre-collapse data runner, and if the rumors are right, the drive is still intact in the captain's quarters. You didn't get cold feet on the descent, did you? Stay close to the light, and try not to breathe too fast. Oxygen is the only thing we can't hack. Ready to see what the abyss is hiding?