The police captain signaled for his team to keep their voices down. The jungle, usually alive with the sounds of birds and insects, had gone completely silent around the vessel. It was as if nature itself was wary of the iron intruder.
They used a heavy hydraulic tool to pry the hatch open. They expected a rush of stagnant water or the stench of a tomb. Instead, a breeze of cool, filtered air escaped from the darkness—air that felt as fresh as if the ventilation system had just been turned off.
One by one, the officers climbed down the ladder, their flashlights cutting through the gloom. The interior was remarkably well-preserved. Polished brass instruments gleamed, and charts were still laid out on the navigation table.
As they reached the central command deck, a beam of light landed on the walls. They weren’t looking at standard naval maps. The entire cabin was covered in intricate, glowing etchings that resembled a code no one on the team recognized. And then, they heard a faint, rhythmic ticking coming from the floorboards.
Top Articles
