Citadel‑Bleue groaned. The ocean pressed like a god’s hand, glass bowing and moaning. Red lights spun through flooded corridors, smoke turning the air into mirrors of fire and salt.

Montagne led through waist‑deep water, shield raised against collapsing debris. Rook limped behind, armor sparking, dragging a cable pack. Gustave Kateb—Doc—followed last, white armor cracked, med‑injector blinking low.

No chatter. Only the hiss of pressure breaking steel.

A conduit burst. Montagne absorbed the blast, his shield flaring blue. “Path’s gone,” Rook shouted.
Doc was already kneeling, patching a coolant line with practiced precision. “Then make another.” His tone stayed surgical, unshaken. Steam curled around his face, eyes glowing like glass beneath his visor.

Another explosion rocked the dome; current slammed them against the walls. Pressure equalized for half a second—long enough for Doc to shove Rook clear of a shattering beam. Blood spread through water like ink. “You’re hit,” Rook said.
Doc’s dry reply: “Observation confirmed.”

Montagne grunted, bracing the main hatch. “We’re losing the dome.”
“Not yet,” Doc answered. “Not while they’re still breathing.”

The final shockwave came like thunder underwater. Metal screamed. The world imploded.

For a few blurred seconds there was only weight—motionless, crushing. Then movement: Montagne’s shield cutting a path through wreckage, Doc dragging Rook by his harness. Lights flickered, died. The sea turned black.

Through that void emerged distant gold flares—rescue drones from Abyss Command. The trio floated weightless as magnetic hooks latched to their suits, hauling them upward through fragments of Citadel glass. Silent ascent, only breathing and exhausted heartbeats.

Inside a decompression capsule, the three sat dripping in the amber light. Montagne’s voice finally broke the static: “We lived.”
Rook managed a shaky grin. “Barely counts.”
Doc leaned back, visor cracked, expression unreadable save for one raised brow.

“Statistically, survival was impossible. We’re clearly very rude to mathematics.”

Outside, dawn pushed gold across the horizon. The sea rolled quiet, holding the ruins far below.

Three figures stared into the light—battered, silent, immortalized not by victory, but by endurance.