The gentle hum of the submarine was suddenly interrupted by a ripple that sent a faint vibration through the hull. Karl's hand shot to the console, instinct kicking in before the thought even reached him. Agnes's form stiffened beside him, her glow sharpening into a more alert tone.
"Something's out there," she murmured, scanning the surrounding ocean. Nanites flitted around the interior of the sub as if sensing the same disturbance. "And I don't think it's friendly."
Before Karl could ask what she meant, the first shadow appeared through the reinforced viewport. It was long, sinuous, and disturbingly alive—its dark, lamprey-like mouth opening and closing, glinting faintly with bioluminescent edges.
"Abyssal Lampreys," Agnes whispered, voice steady despite the flicker of fear in her holographic eyes. "Vythra-draining serpents. They'll attach themselves to flow points—any weak Vythra signature they detect. One bite, and you feel it… your life force draining away."
Karl's pulse quickened. "They're… big."
"They're hungry," Agnes said softly. "And persistent."
He felt the faint pressure of his nanites responding, energy surging as if in instinctive defense. He manipulated the nanite field around his forearms, manifesting rudimentary energy blasters—not his usual weapons, just enough to create a defensive perimeter. He fired. The blasts dissipated harmlessly in the water.
"They're… resistant?" he muttered, brow furrowing. "My blasters—they don't work."
Agnes bit her lip. "Underwater, your forged Nanite weapons lose much of their efficiency. They're optimized for air and surface combat. We'll have to adapt—quickly."
Karl glanced around, eyes narrowing. "Adapt… how?"
"By thinking like the sub, Karl. Let it speak to you," Agnes said, her tone shifting gently back to her caring, guiding cadence. "Trust me. We can do this."
Before Karl could respond, the water outside the viewport churned violently. From the shadows, massive, gaping forms lunged. The first wave: Shoreline Gulpers. Amphibious and horrifyingly enormous, their massive jaws seemed disproportionate to their bodies, capable of swallowing anything whole. One slammed against the hull with a bone-jarring thud, sending the sub rocking.
Karl steadied himself with a grunt. Nanites flared, attempting to reinforce the hull in localized bursts. Agnes hovered close to the main console, scanning rapidly. "They're testing us. Not all attacks are lethal—they're probing. The Abyssal Lampreys are watching."
As Karl and Agnes coordinated, more silhouettes emerged—boneless, serpentine bodies weaving through vents and tiny cracks. Slithering Deepborn. Their forms slipped through impossibly narrow openings, hunting in ways that felt almost intelligent. "They're infiltrators," Agnes murmured, scanning frantically. "They'll bypass any bulkhead we lock. Stay alert."
Karl clenched his jaw. "This is insane." He reached instinctively for the blasters, feeling the futility as the energy simply dissolved in water. "We need something else."
Agnes nodded, flicking data across the screens. "Pressure-controlled bursts, localized nanite jets—we can attempt to simulate currents to disrupt their movement. But it's risky."
Before they could act, the water itself seemed to shimmer, almost melodic, and the airless hum of the deep carried a new danger. Shapes glided into view, elongated, elegant, but impossibly fast—Fin Razors. Blade-like dorsal fins cut through the water, hunting in schools. They darted, coordinated, slicing at the hull with terrifying precision.
Karl's hands moved automatically, issuing nanite pulses, trying to deflect the razor-like fins. Each burst disrupted one or two, but dozens more closed in.
Agnes floated closer, her form shimmering as she guided his hands. "Conserve energy, Karl. Focus on rhythm and pressure—not force. Let me help direct the nanite flow along the hull—like weaving a net, but with torque vectors."
Karl nodded, sweat dripping inside his helmet. "This… feels worse than fighting a whole army."
"You've done worse," Agnes reminded him gently, fingers brushing his arm in a grounding gesture. "But yes. This is different. We can't just fight—they can surround us, suffocate us, manipulate our senses. And that's where the next threat comes in."
From the murky darkness came a hauntingly eerie wail, low and resonant. The ocean itself seemed to ripple unnaturally. Depth Sirens. Psychological warfare demons, capable of inducing obsession, despair, or paralysis in those who encounter them. Agnes's glow dimmed slightly, a telltale flicker of her protective instinct. "Stay focused on me, Karl. Don't let them get in your head. They target lone Chosen above all."
Karl felt a wave of unease wash over him. Thoughts and memories twisted and lurched unnaturally. He gritted his teeth. "I… I'm still here."
Agnes's hand found his, steady and firm. "I'm here, Karl. I'm here. Watch my hands, listen to my voice. The rest is just noise."
Using the nanites from his drive regulator, Karl began constructing a lattice of propulsion vectors around the hull—jet bursts to destabilize the creatures' approach, arcs of force to keep the Lampreys and Gulpers from attaching. Agnes fed him real-time feedback, analyzing each movement and pressure gradient. Slowly, painstakingly, they began to create a rhythm. Each pulse disrupted, each burst rerouted, nudging the predators back.
The Abyssal Lampreys shrieked in frustration, attempting to latch onto the hull. The Slithering Deepborn twisted through vents, only to be diverted by subtle water currents Karl generated. Fin Razors crashed repeatedly into force arcs and were flung aside. Depth Sirens wailed, but Karl focused on Agnes, grounding himself to her presence.
"It's working," Agnes whispered, a hint of relief in her voice. "We're… holding them off."
Karl exhaled, energy surging through him, not from nanites but from sheer determination. "We're not just holding them off—we're… controlling the fight."
"Yes," Agnes said softly, fingers brushing his cheek again in reassurance. "Together. Always together."
Despite the pressure, despite the overwhelming odds, Karl allowed himself a small, sharp grin. "I never thought I'd say this, but… I'm actually enjoying this part."
Agnes laughed, a melodic, low hum that seemed to steady the sub itself. "Only you would find enjoyment in fighting abominations under the ocean."
"They are impressive," he countered with a mock-serious tone. "Formidable. Coordinated. And very… hungry."
Agnes rolled her eyes, still scanning. "You're ridiculous."
Together, they worked through the swarm, alternating nanite bursts and strategic redirections, turning what seemed an inevitable attack into a defensive ballet. The creatures pressed and retreated, probed and tested, but the submarine remained intact, the dark waters holding no sway over the two Chosen at the helm.
Karl finally allowed himself to take a deep breath. "I think… we're through the worst of it."
Agnes's glow softened, her form shifting fully back to the caring, affectionate girlfriend he knew. "We did it… because you stayed calm, because you listened to me."
"And because you're brilliant," Karl said, shaking his head with a small laugh. "Honestly, you should take all the credit."
Agnes feigned a pout, then pressed her forehead gently against his. "I could only make that blueprint because you dismantled the sub for me. We did this together."
Karl's chest swelled with warmth, a rare feeling of safety and victory. "Together," he agreed, his fingers brushing against hers. "Always together."
The submarine hummed steadily beneath them, lights casting soft reflections on the dark walls. Outside, the Pacific was silent again—for now—but Karl and Agnes had learned something profound: even in the deepest, darkest ocean, surrounded by the impossible, they could rely on each other, could fight, could survive. And maybe, just maybe, even laugh while doing it.
Karl stepped toward the hatch, fingers curling around the manual lever. The Pacific waited beyond. Deep, cold, endless. And he felt ready.
"Ready to see how she handles water, Agnes?" he asked with a grin.
"I'm right here," she replied, hand sliding into his. "Let's go, Karl."
The first surge of water began to flood the hangar, the hum of the sub melding with the roar of the ocean. The next adventure awaited.