The horizon blazed from the setting sun. Orange gradually overcame the bright blue sky, casting a splendid and beautiful glow over the ocean. It was at odds entirely with what went on beneath the waves; explosions rocked and frothed the sea-water, filling it with shrapnel and gallons of silvery blood and tissues. Bright flashing lights illuminated the pitch black depths, unveiling the horrors from the deep. The Leviathan’s, many shapes and sizes, surged upwards, churning the sea with yet more violent motion.

I watched the scenes below playing out through many sets of eyes. The camera feeds of several Legion teams streamed not only to me, but to every member of the Legion, and to the Brigade. We studied the chaos, intent on finding patterns and the underlying habits of the denizens below the surface. A third of my people were beneath the waves, likewise with the Brigade. This was only the first of ten points that we wished to clear, at least marginally, as we moved forward.

As such, Mr. Fischer’s drones and music pulsed amidst the darkness, strobing light casting away shadow with an exuberance that did not belong. The Leviathan’s below must have felt the same, because they threw themselves upwards with all the force and fury of a scorned sea god.

Unfortunately for them, we’d learned their tricks quickly.

“Team Two engaging deep dive,” I heard one of my teams call out, a phalanx formation of heavy mechs lining up. In truth, the bulky and daunting machines were the belongings of my own Iron Chariot team, though for the sake of brevity, we simply cited teams by alpha-numeric designations.

“Team Three will support extraction and counter-attacking.” Another team leader, this one from the Leviathan Brigade, called over, and without hesitation an equal number of mechs circled the downwards facing phalanx.

“Appreciated. Dropping now,” Lilia Bertholdt called out in a clipped and focused tone. In the next moment the Iron Chariots descended with all the suddenness of an explosion. The water rushed around them as pressure built, their descent taking them ten, then fifty, then a hundred and beyond meters into the depths. Explosions went off around them, far enough away to not compromise hull integrity. Flares erupted from ports on the sides of a few of their mechs, their support group high overhead, only having gone half as far as they had.

The light seemed only to push feebly at the darkness of the ocean, as though the blackness pushed back against any intrusion, writhing at the attention the light might give it or its denizens. Rightly so, perhaps, because the dozen flares shot off in every direction, revealing three newcomers to the battle.

Lilia didn’t hesitate, and her team carefully picked targets. Each of the Leviathan’s flinched at the light, two of them Buckteeth, while the third was a Potter. They eyed the lights warily, and, distracted from the mechs - or eachother, considering we’d witnessed them eating their own happily - long enough for the next phase of the plan. Each mech brought arms to bear, sighting them broadly as, all at once, they began to fire. Hyper-sonic slugs tore through the water, grenades with modified fins and set to spin rapidly crossed the distance, cutting through liquid as surely as air.

Each of the three Leviathan shook and hissed, or clacked their jaws in anger and pain. One of the Buckteeth turned to rush at the mechs just in time for a far larger projectile to crash through its eye. The tow torpedo did it’s grisly work there, exploding and sending shrapnel through the beast’s head.

“Fall back!” Lilia called without hesitation, her torpedo launcher sliding back into place over her shoulder. They didn’t deal in risk, and the mechs surged upwards as the clacking jaws surged towards them. The Potter stretched upwards and inflated, only to have a long, tangled mass of digestive organs reach upwards, missing the mechs by only a few dozen feet.

For a moment, it’s primitive eyes settled once more on the now wounded Bucktooth, and then on the currently deceased companion it’d had. I wondered if perhaps it estimated if it would be more worthwhile to simply devour the dead, or whether it was going to attack the weakened still-living prey.

Whatever it was planning, it jerked to awareness as several rounds tore into it from above, the steel tips biting through the resilient flesh of the creature even as it rushed to pull them away. The damage, however, wasn’t as severe as I’d have liked, though the guts were clearly damaged and silvery blood pumped into the surrounding water. Both biotics surged forward, the Bucktooth thrashing the water with a broad, short tail while the Potter spun as it rose, undulated fins projecting.

Unlike the Titano Shrimp or some of the other variants down in the dark, neither of them were especially fast. Lilia and her team gradually pulled ahead, and only once they were sure that the biotics weren’t going to turn did Lilia call out to the other team.

“Engaging,” the steady voice from Team Three’s leader resounded, even as they all moved down. All at once, they began firing large serrated harpoons, the first target being the Potter. It’s thick, soft body was suddenly being perforated by several shots. It squirmed, turning it’s tubular body towards one of the mechs and inflating.

That turned out to be a mistake, as the team waited calmly as it swelled larger and larger. When it appeared to be about to project it’s grasping stomach, several explosions suddenly cut through its body, each harpoon turning into shrapnel and rupturing its sides with small holes. The Potter now looked more like a pressurized can of cheese spread that had several holes jabbed in it than anything else. The team, however, did not let up, and fired another set of simple weapons, bolts of metal showered the Potter, confirming its death.

The Bucktooth received an even more brutal treatment. Team Two’s mechs flanked it, twirling past its fins and then rushing into its sides. Half of the mechs stayed at a distance, ensuring that they could support their companions if necessary. It proved unnecessary this time as they sawed through the iron-like tougher outer scales and peeled them away. From there, they systematically butchered the Bucktooth, which attempted to thrash them off of it, and keep pursuing Lilia in front of it, always keeping just out of reach. By the time its simple thoughts considered the possibility of retreat, it no longer had fins to move with.

Such scenes and more played out across the battlegrounds. Dangerous creatures like the Titano Shrimp were engaged by a mobile team that designated it for plasma strike. Other things, like the Black Shark’s with their grisly bony blades that swept backwards from their heads, ended up as the quarry to more experienced teams, or two teams of less experienced hunters. Quickly, my Legion demonstrated that they were competent slayers, less sure-footed underwater to be certain, but in no way were we slowing things down.

For another hour we stayed in that location, swapping out teams from the other ships for the time being. We intended on having three shifts, one of whom was sleeping right now. The Redzone wouldn’t give us any downtime, according to Adira, so we would need to plan for our own rest.

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I would remain awake for the duration, though, given that my need for sleep was significantly diminished. My team, a part of the second shift, sat prepared to drop at any given moment. Out here, we were still only on the edge of the Red Zone, and for some reason I did feel as though this part of the ocean was somehow different.

Was it due to nerves? Anxious after all of the stories and wariness I’d heard about this area? I couldn’t say for certain, but I was hardly the only one to feel this way. Even those of my Legion whom had been fairly blase about the Red Zone were wary, a feeling like they were being watched hung over their heads. The Brigade, too, felt the sensation; people were talking less, clearly stressed, and if it weren’t for the music pulsing the ship, it would have felt like a ghost vessel.

“I don’t like this,” Daniel muttered, his voice coming over the comms, “Does anyone else think it’s getting worse the further we go?”

No one said anything for a moment, but Rachel cleared her throat, “We’re just stressing ourselves out.”

We didn’t comment that she sounded supremely uncertain. I took a steadying breath, realizing that it was my job to keep our morale up. “It’s perfectly normal for us all to be wary of these waters. This is our first major water-based operation and our first operation against water-based biotics. Humankind has always had a certain fear of the deep sea and mythic monsters within, and these things looking like them, though bastardized and warped, are even more unsettling to look at.”

The others considered that for a moment, and Terry spoke, nodding, “Well, that’s true, yeah. I guess it’d be a little weird if we weren’t a little unnerved.”

We agreed, some words of support thrown about, but in the end we still couldn’t shake that feeling that something was wrong. I put it behind me, knowing that whatever was going on, we’d have to deal with it and move forward regardless. Instead, we busied ourselves with what we could, limited as that was while we were in our armors. I reached out with my mind, data streaming forth to the Determinator’s that were currently stowed. Perhaps they wouldn’t be necessary, but even so I wanted to be absolutely certain.

My attention was interrupted when someone across the bay accidentally knocked over a tray of tools, the noise different enough from the music that several heads nearby snapped up in the direction of the sound. The man apologized weakly, while nervous grumbles rolled out from others around. I frowned at that, noting the postures of others around me. Certainly this was an uneasy time, but some of these people were pale.

Helplessly, I shook my head, turning my attention to my comms. Switching through the various channels available, I sent a request to Adira.

A few moments later, her voice sounded in my ear, “Hey, Matthew, what’s up?”

“Hi, not much at the moment. I’m just keeping busy,” I said slowly, “We’re coming up on the rendezvous point with the other two fleets soon, right?”

Adira paused for a moment before clearing her throat, “Err… yes, it does look like that.”

“Good, that’s good. Seems that we’ll get to go into the water for a swim soon, then.” I joked, “Hopefully we’ll be able to clear through fairly easily…”

I paused then, feeling almost as though Adira was only half listening. I frowned, waiting a few seconds for her to respond. Yet none came.

“Adira? Are you there?”

“Ah, sorry, I’m just… distracted right now.” A note of anxiousness crept into her voice, “I’m surprised that you’re doing fine.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I chuckled, “We’ve got the Legion and Brigade working together, and both of our teams are quite accustomed to combat. So long as we keep calm, we’ll pull ahead.” I smiled, looking to the video feed and seeing Adira smile. It was the kind of smile that you gave someone when you knew they were trying to cheer you up, and hadn’t succeeded in the slightest.

“I’m being serious. We’ve got hundreds of combatants, a plasma battery, several ships, and a great deal of experience shared between us all. I have to say that if there was ever a chance for us to succeed, it would be now.”

Adira looked at me, the previous atmosphere she carried with her still stubbornly clinging on the edges, but I could see the look in her eyes, rallying against uncertainty.

She took a steadying breath, “I know. I do, really, and I don’t even know why I’m feeling so… nervous. I know we’re better prepared than ever, but it feels like my gut is telling me to get out, like we’re not…” She paused, gesticulating with her hands as though she was trying to find the word in the air, “...like we’re not supposed to be here. Like there’s something wrong here.”

I blinked at that, taking a moment to stop and look around again. All around me, I could see that same tension, even among my team, even those that should be unflappable in all but the worst of situations.

“Well…” I said slowly, “Even if that’s the case, we can’t turn back now. And besides, biotics are an enemy that can’t be allowed to lay resting. If we don’t pull them out, snarling and scratching from their hives, then they’ll keep getting stronger.”

She crossed her arms, annoyed, “I know that. I’ve been hunting them as long as you.”

“Yes,” I acknowledged the statement carefully, “I understand that. I’m not trying to imply otherwise.”

Adira opened her mouth for a second before she seemed to forcibly close it, her agitation sweeping out from under her, even as the stress remained. With a shake of her head she said, “Sorry. It’s not- you didn’t say anything wrong. I’m just…” She sighed, “Just a little short fused, I guess. I know we have to keep going, but that doesn’t mean that I’m happy about putting my people in the water here.”

I nodded, “I wish we didn’t have to.”

She nodded back, leaning against her chair as her expression sharpened, “Ah, well. I guess that’s my weekly allotment of feeling bad for ourselves. We’re going in the water, and we’ll shred everything in it.” There was a glimmer of something in her eyes then.

“Just business as usual.” I said, grinning as I did.

She snorted, “I swear, you’ve raised like six death flags in the last five minutes.” Her tone was serious, but she couldn’t keep the smirk off of her face.

“I never really did put too much stock into that,” I laughed, “From personal experience.”

We chuckled, and then laughed, a little bit of that pressure ebbing from her features. “Good luck out there.”

“You too,” I said, before closing the line. The sounds of the doors opening and the ramps extending stirred the cargo bay to action. All at once mech’s sat straighter, those few whom hadn’t activated them already brought them to life with an electric buzz.

As I got a good look out at the ocean horizon, I marveled at the tinge of red that colored the cloudy sky, and the light show that still persisted beneath us. My sense of wonder morphed as I hit the water, from awe at the scene above to something between excitement and a lust for battle as we continued to descend. My power armor plunged down, distant fields of battle carrying on far beneath the surface of the sea, lit by flares, gunfire, explosives, and the eerie bioluminescence of some of the creatures that swelled up from deep below.

“Legion, good hunting.” I stated simply, watching the other’s responses, ranging from forced bravado to grim determination. Yet on every face I also saw evidence of stress, even fear, in their drawn, uncertain features.

Something was wrong, and it seemed everyone but me felt it.