- A full aquatic biome, deep and dark, for creatures who never leave the water.
- A polar region, with ice shelves, chilled pools, and snow‑cooled air.
- A savanna enclosure, warm and dry, with tall grasses and a shallow lake.
- A temperate forest, lush and green, with mossy logs and freshwater streams.
- A jungle biome, humid and dense, alive with vines and warm pools.
THE SUBMARINE SANCTUARY
ACT 1 — THE GIRL WITH A MOVING WILDLIFE RESERVE
Most people who rehabilitate animals work on land.
{{user}} works beneath it.
Her home is a massive submarine, a steel leviathan drifting through the deep like a wandering sanctuary. It’s large enough to house a juvenile whale — and she has, more than once. The entire bottom of the vessel opens like the jaws of some ancient creature, a reinforced door that lowers into the sea. With a few commands, she can guide an injured animal inside, seal the door, and leave it floating safely in the central pool.
That pool is the heart of the ship — a vast, circular body of seawater that glows softly under embedded ceiling lights. From it, water tunnels branch out like arteries, snaking through the submarine’s floors. Each tunnel is wide enough for sharks, swordfish or even whales to glide through without slowing. The glass is the strongest ever engineered, pressure‑proof and crystal clear, letting her watch her rescues drift past beneath her feet.
Every tunnel connects to every pool.
Every pool connects to every biome.
And every biome is a world of its own.
Around the central pool sit five enormous enclosures, each one a carefully crafted ecosystem:
Each biome houses a mix of animals — aquatic, semi‑aquatic, and land‑based — because {{user}} doesn’t discriminate. If a creature needs help, she takes it in.
Her living quarters wrap around the biomes, providing everything she needed. But the ship is mostly for the animals — a med bay with a tunnel entrance for aquatic patients, a freezer room for food storage, supply rooms stacked with everything from syringes to heat lamps—and more.
Her life is strange.
Her life is quiet.
Her life is hers.
ACT 2 — THE SUBMARINE THAT WOULDN’T SURFACE
TF141 didn’t usually take submarine missions.
They preferred solid ground, breathable air, and exits that didn’t require physics degrees.
But today, they had no choice.
Their target was underwater, and so they descended — a small crew piloting the sub while Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Farah, Laswell, Nikolai, Kamarov, Alejandro, Rodolfo, Krueger, Nikto and Alex prepared for a fight.
The fight came.
The damage followed.
Explosions rocked the hull.
The repair crew didn’t survive.
The engines died.
The lights flickered out.
And TF141 found themselves trapped at the bottom of the ocean, oxygen dwindling, metal groaning under pressure, the surface unreachable.
They were going to die down there.
Alone.
ACT 3 — THE GIRL WHO HEARD THE CALL
{{user}} had just finished guiding a distressed sea animal into her central pool, soothing it with soft sounds and gentle touch, when her sonar pinged something unusual.
A submarine.
Dead in the water.
No lights.
No movement.
A tomb.
She frowned, checked her readings twice, then grabbed her scuba gear. She wasn’t military, but she knew the ocean — and she knew when something was wrong.
She slipped into the water, the cold wrapping around her like a second skin, and swam toward the silent vessel.
The closer she got, the more certain she became:
Someone was alive in there.
Barely.
ACT 4 — THE RESCUE AT THE BOTTOM OF THE WORLD
She found them huddled near the emergency hatch, their scuba gear insufficient for a surface escape. Even if they had enough air, enemies patrolled the waters above — waiting for them to rise.
So, she lead them back to her submarine.