There was no warning whatsoever. Nick had just finished breathing out and had begun to breathe in when suddenly, the air became water.
A shockingly cold pressure encased him on all sides, and the light of the world dimmed to a deep, murky blue. He nearly choked as he continued to inhale for a fraction of a second; drawing water into his throat but halting the motion before the brine spilled into his lungs.
The instant the salty brew hit his tongue, Nick understood what was happening. He had been teleported outside the dungeon as promised. But instead of bringing him back to the door that he had entered through, the System had portaled him into the bay, judging by the sheer wall of stone rising from the ocean’s floor. Although its features were obscured by deep shadows, the contour of the cliffside looked familiar.
When Nick spotted a sheet of metal glinting from the face of the rock, he realized that he was back where he had started after all. However, the island had undergone some drastic changes in his absence. The strip of sand running along the bay was now submerged. He found himself floating in front of the broad steel door, with one set of rocky cliffs in front of him and another behind his back.
It seemed that the sea had risen while he was exploring the dungeon, which had to be related to the tutorial entering its second phase. Although the last gasp of air in his lungs was rapidly running out, Nick suppressed the urge to panic, knowing that he would drown if he didn’t take action immediately.
While the abrupt transition was disorienting, the water rising was one of the scenarios that he had considered, although he hadn’t planned to come out of the dungeon below sea level. However, he knew that the next phase of the tutorial had begun while he was in the sewers. Nick had anticipated that it would trigger changes on the isle. A taste of what was to come when the tutorial entered its third and final phase. That’s how the System is ramping up the danger. The water rises over time, driving me into the interior of the island.
He didn’t have time to ponder the matter further. He needed to devote every last braincell toward reaching the surface before he drowned, then drag his waterlogged ass back onto dry land. The pressure in his inner ear allowed him to estimate his depth.
I’m still on the beach, and the water has risen by thirty feet, give or take. Since the dungeon’s entrance was a bit below sea level, I’m maybe forty feet from the surface and twice that distance from the new shoreline. I should pause for a few seconds about halfway up if I can hold out that long, but at this depth, my risk of getting the bends is low, if that's even possible without breathing compressed air.
Nick yearned to breathe, desperate to reach the surface before it was too late, but he forced himself to look around rather than flail. It was hard to tell which way was up without enough air in his lungs to make him buoyant. The sun must be low in the sky, or it would be easy to see the surface. Fortunately, it seems to be dusk rather than night, or I would be completely screwed.
Shutting out the discomfort rising in his chest, he began casting his limbs out, searching for the sandy bottom while looking for the surge of waves breaking against the shore. Just as he was beginning to grow seriously worried, his fingertips brushed against the ground.
With no time to lose, he used the point of contact to pull his feet under him. He pushed with his legs as hard as he could, launching himself toward the surface and forcing his eyes open against the pressure and the sting of salt. Just as Nick was deciding that, despite having received a bit of a scare, he had everything under control, his eyes locked onto a dark shape gliding through the water above. A massive profile of muscle and fin—a wedge-shaped face filled with stark white teeth and dead black eyes.
Distracted by the abrupt transition and the urgency of his situation, he had forgotten about the sharks that prowled the shoreline by the bay. This area is part of their hunting grounds. Out of air, halfway to the surface, and still a good sixty feet away from shore, he was struck by the grim realization that he had a rather serious problem on his hands after all. A carnivorous problem the size of an SUV that had turned and was heading straight for him.
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None of Nick’s weapons or tools were suitable for fighting underwater, except for maybe his dagger. But there was no way that he would be willing to battle the beast unless it was going to bite him anyway. The idea of trying to melee a predator of that size, in its own domain, no less, made him want to laugh. Well, if he could have laughed without drowning.
Confronted by his lack of options, his brain frantically ran through every tool at his disposal, considering and discarding each out of hand. His wand might work as a last resort, but Nick was hesitant to draw it. He suspected that, despite its momentum-deleting magic, using the wand underwater would have severe repercussions for the soft tissue of his body.
That was all the time that he had to think before the creature was upon him. He was still desperately trying to reach the surface while searching for any way that he could live through the next few minutes.
Fortunately for Nick, while he was in a bit of a hurry, the shark felt no need to rush. After all, he had no chance of escaping, and his presence within the predator’s domain was a novelty. Thus, the shark veered off after making a close pass, examining this strange new creature before deciding what it wanted to do about it. It must have concluded that he looked good enough to eat after that brief moment of consideration, because the beast’s demeanor shifted, every motion now conveying the coiled tension of a predator about to strike.
The surface and the shore were gradually growing closer, but Nick’s vision was beginning to fade around the edges. His journey through the water was maddeningly glacial compared to the efficient motion of the apex hunter. It gave the impending attack a sense of inevitability. Like watching a trainwreck in slow motion while standing on the tracks.
The shark was coming straight for him, its colossal jaws spread wide to rend his flesh asunder. He knew that his existence would end the moment it arrived. In short, Nick had ten seconds left to find a way to save his life. He ceased his frantic flailing so that he could focus with everything he had. While he would drown in less than a minute, that was fifty-five seconds longer than he had.
He used his final moments to mine his memories for every scrap of shark-related lore that Nick had learned from games and nature documentaries. As the shark’s ragged grin grew to fill the entirety of his vision, something useful popped into his head at last.
Sharks hunt by scent as well as by sensing electric currents. Its sense of smell must be incredibly sharp. That tiny tidbit gave him an idea—enough inspiration to form a plan. A last-ditch, all-or-nothing gamble with his life as the prize.
Mere heartbeats before the shark struck, Nick reached down to his belt and unscrewed the cap of the canister filled with salt, opening the container and then shaking it vigorously. The motion spread the chemical salts out into the water, where they rapidly diffused to form a broad cloud. He drew his dagger and resumed paddling like mad, praying to any god that was listening.
Half a heartbeat later, the beast streaked through the cloudy water, ready to tear him in two in a single bite. His last spark of hope died as the shark passed through the salt, still heading straight for him. Nick flinched and raised his dagger, watching death descend upon him. Searing pain forced him to close his eyes, and he felt the flow of a massive body passing beside him.
He lashed out blindly, but the blow he was anticipating never landed. He opened his eyes to take in the sight of the shark, which had begun lurching violently from side to side, then closed them tight again before the caustic salt could do any permanent damage.
The last thing he saw was the shark streaking in the opposite direction. It didn’t even look at Nick as it regained control over its body and began swimming away from the polluted area as fast as it could, disappearing into the murky depths of the bay. Filtering the contaminated water through its gills must have been incredibly painful.
He had no time to revel in his victory. The need to breathe was nearly overwhelming, and his body was heavy, limbs barely responding to his commands. Just before he slipped into oblivion, he breached the water at last, taking in a great gasp of air as the world and his awareness of his body snapped back into place.
Nick wasn’t out of the woods yet. In addition to fighting the current that was pulling him out to sea, he could see dozens of fins gliding toward him, and there was no way that his chemical screen would last long enough to protect him. Fortunately, he was closing in on the shore. He strained his body to its limits and continued to swim, shutting out his fear and pushing past his exhaustion.
Mere seconds before the sharks arrived, he felt mud shifting beneath his toes, and he hastily scrambled up to higher ground. The swarming fins made a few frustrated circles before dipping back below the waves.
With a groan, Nick crawled onto the Searing Isle, too weary to worry about the danger he would face in the days to come.