The alarm buzzed at 5:30 AM, a shrill sound that cut through the quiet of Jake’s apartment.

He groaned, eyes barely open, and blindly swatted at his phone until the noise stopped. The world outside was still dark, the city just beginning to stir. Today was the day.

For a moment, he lay still, letting it sink in. No more classes. No more assignments. No more late nights cramming for exams. His time at university was officially over, and in a few hours, he and Alex would be on a plane to Calamitjaneta, Menorca—their favorite escape.

Still, that lingering unease from last night hadn’t fully left him.

His eyes drifted to the storage box still sitting on his desk, the old picture of Dr. Voss now buried beneath scattered papers. He had meant to put it away, but something kept him from doing so—like a subconscious hesitation.

Shaking off the thought, Jake finally forced himself out of bed.

An hour later, Jake stood outside his apartment building, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of the ocean even from miles away. He checked his phone—no messages. Where the hell was Alex?

As if on cue, a familiar silver Jeep swerved around the corner and came to a screeching halt in front of him.

The window rolled down, revealing Alex, sunglasses perched on his nose and an overconfident smirk on his face.

“Get in, loser. We’re going on vacation.”

Jake sighed but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. Same old Alex.

He tossed his bag in the back and climbed in.

“You know, normal people show up on time,” Jake muttered as Alex pulled away from the curb.

“Punctuality is for people who actually have things to do,” Alex shot back. “Which, thankfully, we don’t.”

Navigating the airport was an adventure in itself—from the painfully long security lines to Alex nearly getting them detained after making a joke about smuggling exotic fish in his luggage.

Eventually, though, they made it onto the plane, settling into their seats.

Jake, as always, had the window. He loved watching the world shrink below him as they took off, the endless blue stretching toward the horizon.

The seatbelt sign blinked off, and almost immediately, Jake pulled out his phone.

Alex groaned. “Please tell me you’re not—”

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“Check this out.” Jake shoved the screen toward him, eyes gleaming. “I found this old article from 1998 about an unexplained deep-sea anomaly near the Balearic Trench. Some researchers detected massive heat signatures, but the government shut the study down before they could release any findings.”

Alex barely looked at the screen before slumping back in his seat. “Dude. No. We’re on vacation. That means no deep-sea conspiracies.”

“But it’s fascinating,” Jake insisted. “What if—”

Alex reached over and clicked Jake’s phone off.

“Vacation.”

Jake sighed, leaning back, but the intrigue still buzzed in his mind. He couldn’t help it. The ocean still had secrets, and something in him needed to uncover them.

As the plane soared over the sea, Jake had no idea that soon, he would be uncovering something far more terrifying than he ever imagined.

The moment Jake and Alex stepped off the plane, the humid air of Spain wrapped around them like a heavy blanket. The contrast from the crisp, air-conditioned cabin was stark, and within seconds, both of them were tugging off their hoodies, tying them around their waists.

The Barcelona–El Prat Airport was a maze of energy and chaos. The festival season was in full swing, and tourists from all over the world crowded the terminals. Bright banners and posters lined the walls, advertising cultural events, beach parties, and music festivals happening across the country.

“Remind me why we didn’t just stay here?” Alex muttered as they weaved through the bustling crowd toward baggage claim.

“Because we’re not basic tourists,” Jake replied, dodging a family dragging oversized suitcases. “And you wanted an adventure.”

Alex smirked. “Right. But an adventure with tapas and sangria would’ve been nice.”

With their bags finally in hand, they made their way through the exit doors and stepped into the warm Spanish afternoon.

Outside the airport, taxis lined up in an endless queue. The air smelled of hot asphalt, car exhaust, and the distant scent of the sea.

They flagged down a taxi, and the driver—a tanned man in his late fifties with sunglasses and an easy smile—helped them load their bags.

“Where to?” the driver asked in a thick Spanish accent.

“Hotel Marina Azul,” Jake replied, showing the location on his phone.

The drive through Barcelona’s streets was a spectacle in itself. The city pulsed with life—street performers, locals chatting over coffee at open-air cafés, tourists snapping pictures of historic buildings. Banners promoting the Festa Major de Gràcia flapped in the wind, their colors bright against the sunlit sky.

Jake leaned against the window, taking it all in.

Alex, however, had other plans. He nudged Jake and whispered, “I’ll give you twenty bucks if you ask the driver where the nearest underground fight club is.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Why would I do that?”

“Because it would be hilarious.”

The driver chuckled. “Your friend likes action movies, no?”

Jake smirked. “Something like that.”

After forty minutes, they arrived at Hotel Marina Azul, a three-star hotel near the city center. It wasn’t luxurious, but it had everything they needed—a clean room, a bar, and a balcony overlooking the city.

Once checked in, they dumped their bags and collapsed onto their beds.

“Holy hell, I could sleep for a week,” Alex groaned, stretching out.

Jake checked his phone. 4:30 PM. It was too early to sleep, but after the long flight, he felt the same.

“You wanna go out?” he asked.

Alex yawned. “What, sightseeing?”

“I was thinking food. And maybe a drink.”

That got Alex’s attention.

An hour later, they were sitting at a beachside café, sipping on cold drinks and watching the sun start to set over the Mediterranean. Spanish guitar music played softly in the background, mixing with the murmur of conversation and the distant sound of seagulls.

“Tomorrow, Menorca,” Alex said, clinking his glass against Jake’s.

Jake nodded. “Tomorrow, Menorca.”

Little did they know, their vacation was about to take a very dark turn.