The sun beamed down warmly on Shane's face as he gazed out at the ocean horizon.

A gentle breeze ruffled his blond hair, carrying the faint scent of tropical flowers that bloomed year-round on these islands.

Shane Thomson is fiddling with a stick, looking towards the vast ocean horizon, seemingly lost in his thoughts to one who happens to take notice of him. It's a remote beach. Not too remote of course, considering how small the archipelago of Osmer is.

But again, Osmer is itself remote.

Extremely remote, for a fact.

It matters little that Shane chose this beach today, considering the horizon is identical in all directions, as long as you watch from an island on the outer rim of the archipelago.

Shane traced aimless patterns in the sand with his toe as the waves gently lapped at his feet. Like most young men his age in Osmer, he felt stuck.

Stable enough day-to-day in his job at the shipyard, yet hollow, just going through the motions. He yearned for more substance and adventure, but didn't have the courage to seek it out beyond these confining islands.

Shane's stomach rumbled loudly, interrupting his brooding.

In his haste to escape to solitude for the day, he'd forgotten to bring provisions. The scrawny berry bushes dotting the island weren't going to cut it. He set off down the beach toward the village, lanky arms wrapped around his grumbling belly.

Earlier that morning, Shane's boss Robert had told him to take the day off, seeing as they had hardly any orders at the shipyard.

Robert's thick arms - sculpted from years of carpentry and hauling heavy toolboxes - patted Shane heartily on the back as he headed out. Shane appreciated the gruff shipyard foreman, who always seemed to look out for him.

Shane didn't think much of his job though. Sure, it's a decent income, but it doesn't take him on any grand adventure. Not that anything here does.

Now and then, a restless soul would sail off seeking adventure, never to be heard from again. The crushing isolation and endless horizon could swallow you whole out there.

Most seafarers knew better than to tempt the abyss.

On rare occasions, a weathered traveler would turn up again, boats laden with wondrous items scavenged abroad. Most would be donated to the island's lone library - frayed manuals on mechanics, physics, engineering.

Shane would pore over them by candlelight, imagination afire.

One of Shane's personal favorites are the few satellite radios one of them brought, of which one radio ended up at the shipyard, being one of the archipelago's core industries considering the high demand of sea based travel and the lush fishing industry of the area.

They do however keep awfully quiet about their travels in general, those few who do return.

One thing stands out though, and it's that the radio programs often mention pokemon. They are creatures that seem to be similar to animals, but with extraordinary powers.

Robert doesn't like when Shane tunes in to listen to battle commentary. "Brute cock fighting is what it is, doesn't do the world much good…" he says. Therefore, the radio is more often tuned in to some music station to serve the customers better.

It's not only Robert who thinks this way.

It's a common theme among the inhabitants, to be holding opinions against pokemon. Mostly they have the violent aspect in mind, but some do lean more towards the thought that pokemon are creatures holding evil mystical powers.

It goes without saying that none of the travelers have brought back an actual pokemon, and they don't talk much about them either.

Shane's stomach twisted into a tighter knot, the pangs coming in forceful waves now.

He raked his hands through his shaggy blonde locks in frustration.

In his eagerness for escape this morning, Shane hadn't thought things through.

He'd impulsively jumped on a boat to one of the tiny outer islands, craving solitude and assuming he'd find enough fruit growing wild to get by.

Clearly that was wishful thinking.

He starts walking back towards the single village on this island, pondering the nature of things, picking up the occasional berries he comes across. As the 24-year old man approaches the village, he sets his eye for the dock, hoping to find someone going for a supply run back to Zenith, the main island of the Osmer archipelago.

Why do people even go on like they do? Just… going on and about with their business, darting back and forth like working ants between the Islands.

Sure, there is ample room to live a full life, according to some, if you just want to have a quiet existence. Food is produced, houses are built, boats are repaired, and social commitment is carried out. But Shane has a hard time seeing the point in it. He feels like a small fish in a small pond, with little room for becoming truly important.

Shane figured most folks were driven by the need to matter. Though that wasn't a popular sentiment to voice aloud here.

Folks on Osmer valued a humble, quiet life.

"Maybe I'm just riled up from those grand adventures I hear about", he mutters to himself. "Daydreaming is what it is".

Upon arrival at the docks, he sees a man seeming to be loading a small boat equipped with an outboard engine. It's a marvel that the explorers way back brought those science books with them. Modernizing the isles really gave a boost to the comfort level of everyday life, not being fully dependent on the right winds.

He shook his head in wonder.

If not for those books from the explorers, who'd have guessed ethanol could power an outboard motor?

That something called electromagnetism could be harnessed to run pumps, lights, radios?

Osmer was decades behind the rest of the world.

Shane asks for where the man is headed.

"Zenith" he responds.

"Great", Shane replies. "I live there. Do you need help with anything?"

Hitching a ride this way is usually no problem. Everyone knows that one usually is very dependent on sea travel around here, and helping with loading and unloading goods is often accepted as fair payment for the miniscule amount of extra fuel spent for carrying a single person between the isles.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

As they head out from the shoreline, Shane again looks towards the open sea. He shuts his eyes for a moment, imagining that he is on a large ship headed straight for the ocean, bound for an unknown world. The young man sighs, knowing that he's just heading home as usual. Back to the shipyard to grab some food from the dock cafeteria, since it's closer than home.

Mom's food is very preferable though.

Memories of his mother's rich seafood stew bubbled up, perfect for a day like today.

No one could rival her cooking - the flavors were woven into the fabric of his childhood.

A flash of bright blue on the horizon caught Shane's eye as he opened them. It vanished as quickly as it appeared. He stared hard at where the light had been, brow furrowed

A mirage? But the air was still and clear

The single cloud in the area of where the light was seen seem to… crack?

Then it rapidly falls towards the sea, disappearing from sight.

Shane blinks. Clouds don't fall like rocks usually, do they?

Roughly two minutes passes while he thinks about what happened, and suddenly the sea starts vibrating violently, sending the vibrations up through the whole boat.

Shane looks back at the man piloting the small boat, who himself stares at Shane with panic in his eyes.

"Did you see the light earlier?" Shane asks.

The man doesn't answer. His only response is his eyes widening ever more.

Shane looks towards the sea for further signs of what happened, but nothing can be seen.

With no concern for fuel efficiency, the man speeds up heavily loaded boat into an almost waterplaning projectile, smashing violently against the small waves. In barely a minute, they arrive at the dock connected to the shipyard. Robert is standing at the dock, himself looking towards the open sea between some smaller islands, carrying a stern look.

The boat had barely scraped the dock before Shane leapt onto the planks.

"You felt that rumble too, right?" he asked the wide-eyed man now tying up.

"Yes, everyone felt it. A few men could see a shock wave traveling towards us over the ocean surface, before hitting us like a thundering fist", Robert replies in a coarse tone.

The men stand beside each other, staring at the sea in awe, both thinking about what the cause may have been.

Then they hear it.

"Kyoooh".

A loud, thundering screech whips across the dock, dark in tone as if from a beast the size of a large house at a far distance.

The creature's baleful cry made the workshop windows shudder in their panes.

Robert's face hardened like stone, his eyes fixed on the rolling sea. Then his burly frame suddenly tensed.

Shane heard the sharp intake of breath beside him, and knew Robert had spotted something dire from years of seafaring experience.

"Kid… you have to come, now" Robert says in a darkened tone.

"Why?" Shane asks.

"No time. Now!" Robert commands with firm authority in his voice, as he starts to quickly pace along the dock.

Robert usually is more light of heart, so Shane is slightly taken aback from this sudden change. But he tags along, as the elder is trustworthy in everything he does, no matter how old fashioned he might appear at times.

Robert keeps a steady eye towards the sea, while walking faster and faster, transitioning into a rapid running pace. Merely seconds pass before Shane notice that Robert is running at full speed, and dashes to keep up with him.

Boat houses and tool sheds flash by, and they suddenly stop at one with a large door. The roof seems to be removed on this particular shed.

"What are we doing here? Why are we running?" Shane asks with concern in his voice.

Robert had barely broken a sweat from the running.

"Look at the sea kid, do you see the white line?" he responds quickly, but in an ensuring and firm voice.

Shane squints towards the opening between the two closest Islands.

"Yeah, i kinda do… What is it?".

"It's a wave Shane, a big one. Now listen, you were a fine kid. Not much of a fuzz, always somewhere else. But I need you to listen now…" Robert says in a slowing voice as he opens the doors.

Inside the shed is what looks like a small boat, the size of a large table, the cabin of the boat looking just big enough for a large man to crouch in it.

Shane's eyes darted around the strange vessel. Thick wooden planks reinforced the sides, oddly inflated for such a small craft.

The rims were lined with steel supports, almost like armor. Barrel-shaped steel tubes capped the cabin and sides - what were those for?

This was no ordinary boat.

"Shane, listen. You go in that thing, and you Do Not Open The Door. Do you hear me?"

Shane blinks. What is happening?

"Shane… Shane!!! Listen! This wave will kill everything. All other boats will capsize, but this will not. I want you to go in there, and just wait", picking up the speed of his words the longer he talks.

A few seconds pass by, feeling like an eternity to Shane.

He looks towards the ocean. The white line is not a line anymore, it is a very visible wave, covering all of the visible far horizon, clearly overshadowing the large hill on the far Isle of Noke. It must be at least 700 feet tall, featuring about twice the size of that hill.

Robert rips open the door in the boat, and tries shoving Shane into it.

"It's lined with air tanks and a good ballast, so it will never sink no matter how rough it gets. Just… wait in there until it stabilizes."

"Wait… But mom! Everyone! What about you Robert?!!"

Robert grabs a firm hold of Shane by his shoulders, looking him into the eyes with the sternest look Shane have ever seen on the man's face.

"SHANE!!! LISTEN!!!" he roars, rattling the windows almost like the roar from the sea did.

"Don't throw this away", his voice softening.

"I want you to live".

Shane looks frightfully at the man, saying nothing.

In the corner of his eye, he can see the furthest Island getting completely swallowed by the massive wave.

A single tear cut through the gray bristles of Robert's beard.

He clasped Shane's shoulder firmly, voice cracking with emotion.

"Live, son. Just live."

Shane feels how the large muscles of the man in front of him grabs hold of his arms and hastily throws the whole of Shane into the boat, with the door being forcefully shut quickly behind him. Shane pushes the door of the boat outwards, it doesn't budge at all. Everything is completely dark.

"Hold on to the handles at the side" shouts the faint voice outside the boat.

Shane feels around in the dark, eventually finding the handles. Everything is silent.

After barely a fourth of a minute, he hears a faint crackling and rustling, quickly growing louder.

The deafening roar hit all at once.

Shane was thrown to the floor as the boat violently jerked and spun.

Through the walls he heard the muffled sounds of splintering wood - the merciless fury of the tsunami tearing the docks apart.