The ocean is not a world of men. It is a world of crushing darkness, freezing cold, and things that have not known the touch of light for a billion years.
And currently, I was driving through it in a very expensive metal tube.
Depth: 5,200 meters. Pressure: 500 Atmospheres. Hull Integrity: 100%.
The V.C.S. Nautilus was a masterpiece of dwarven engineering and magitech integration. A sleek, obsidian tear-drop shape powered by a miniaturized Mana-Fusion reactor, it hummed with a low, predatory vibration that resonated in my teeth.
Outside the reinforced quartz-glass viewport, there was nothing but the absolute black of the abyss, occasionally broken by the ghostly blue flicker of a bioluminescent predator.
"I hate this," Brok muttered, wiping sweat from his forehead with a grease-stained rag. He was staring at the pressure gauge like it was a ticking bomb. "Boss, the hull is singing. The rivets are screaming. We weren't meant to go this deep."
"The Nautilus is rated for 8,000 meters, Brok," I said calmly, adjusting the sonar array. "Trust your own work."
"I trust my work!" the dwarf snapped. "I don't trust the giant squid god that eats destroyers for breakfast!"
Seraphina sat in the co-pilot seat, her hands gripping the armrests so hard her knuckles were white. Nero stood in the back, perfectly still. The pressure meant nothing to a shadow.
"We're close," I said. "The blood trail is thick here."
The sonar screen pinged. A massive red blotch appeared on the radar, surrounded by static.
"Contact," Seraphina whispered. "Range: 2,000 meters. Ahead and below."
"Brok, kill the running lights," I ordered. "Engage silent running. Let's see what the landlord is doing."
The hum of the engines died down to a whisper. The Nautilus glided through the dark like a shark.
We descended into the Abyssal Trench.
Then, the sonar pinged again. Not for a biological entity, but for a geological structure.
"Boss," Brok gasped, looking at the topographical map. "That ain't a cave. That's... geometry."
I smiled. "Floodlights. Maximum intensity."
CLICK.
Four massive banks of magitech searchlights flared to life, cutting through the eternal night.
Seraphina let out a breath she had been holding.
Rising from the ocean floor, shrouded in silt and black coral, was a city.
But it wasn't a city of stone or marble. It was a city of glass, chrome, and pulsating violet energy. Massive spires twisted toward the surface like DNA helixes. Domes the size of stadiums sat interconnected by transparent tubes.
It was broken, overgrown, and ancient. But the lights were still on.
[Location Discovered: Atlantis (Precursor Research Facility 01)]
[Status: Dormant.]
"It's beautiful," Seraphina murmured.
"It's real estate," I corrected.
Wrapped around the central spire—which I recognized as a Geothermal Mana-Siphon—was the Leviathan.
The beast was colossal. A mass of writhing tentacles, crab-like armor, and way too many eyes. It was latched onto the spire, sucking the raw mana from the city's reactor to heal the wounds caused by my depth charges.
It was trespassing.
"Brok," I said, my voice hardening. "Charge the main weapon."
"The torpedoes?"
"No. If we use explosives, we might damage the city. I'm not spending millions on repairs."
I unlocked the safety cover on a red switch.
"Charge the Poseidon Cannon."
The ship groaned as power was diverted from the engines to the forward emitter. The Leviathan stopped feeding. Its massive, milky-white eyes rotated toward us. It had felt the mana spike.
SCREEEEEEEEEE!
A psychic scream slammed into the submarine. The lights flickered. My nose started bleeding. Seraphina cried out, clutching her head.
"It sees us!" Brok yelled. "Incoming!"
The Leviathan uncoiled with terrifying speed. It threw a boulder the size of a house at us.
"Evasive!" I shouted, slamming the yoke to the left.
The Nautilus rolled. The boulder missed us by inches, the displacement wave shaking the sub violently.
"Hull integrity at 90%!" Brok screamed.
We weren't fighting a fish. We were fighting a god.
The Leviathan lunged. Tentacles thick as redwood trees lashed out, wrapping around the submarine.
CRUNCH.
The metal groaned in agony. The glass of the viewport began to spiderweb.
"We're caught!" Seraphina yelled, firing ice bolts from the sub's external turrets, but they just shattered against the beast's hide.
[Hull Integrity: 60%... 45%...]
The monster pulled us closer. Its beak—a jagged, spinning maw of bone—opened wide, ready to crush the cockpit.
"I can't get a lock!" Brok yelled. "It's too close!"
"I'm taking manual control," I growled.
I grabbed the targeting stick. I didn't try to break free. I thrust the throttles forward.
The Nautilus surged into the monster's grip, jamming the nose of the submarine directly against its exposed throat—the wound I had opened earlier.
"Say ahh," I whispered.
I pulled the trigger.
POSEIDON CANNON: FIRE.
There was no explosion. No fire.
The Poseidon Cannon fired a concentrated, hyper-frequency sound wave. It vibrated the water molecules at a speed that defied physics.
VWOOOOOOOOM.
The effect was instant and grotesque.
The Leviathan's flesh didn't burn. It liquefied.
The vibration turned its internal organs into soup. The beast stiffened, its tentacles going rigid, then went limp. Its massive eye burst in a cloud of black ichor.
The grip loosened. The Nautilus drifted free, covered in slime but intact.
[Target Neutralized.] [Enemy: Leviathan of the Deep (Calamity) - DECEASED.] [Experience Gained: Excessive.]
I exhaled, wiping the blood from my nose.
"Hull report?"
"15%," Brok wheezed, clutching his chest. "We're leaking in Sector 3. But we're alive."
"Good enough," I said. "Dock us at the spire."
We limped the damaged submarine toward the central docking ring of the Precursor city.
As we approached, the ancient systems scanned us. Or rather, they scanned the Server Key in my inventory.
[Identity Confirmed: Administrator.] [Welcome back.]
The airlock cycled. The water drained away.
We stepped out of the Nautilus and onto a platform of dry, pristine metal. The air smelled sterile and recycled, preserved for five thousand years.
We walked into the main atrium.
It wasn't just a research lab. It was a factory.
Rows of dormant assembly lines stretched into the darkness. Half-built submersibles, mining drones, and deep-sea hab-units hung from the ceiling conveyor belts.
"By the Stone..." Brok whispered, his fear forgotten, replaced by engineer's lust. "Boss, look at the machining tolerances. This is... this is perfection."
Seraphina walked to the edge of the platform, looking down at the endless rows of machines.
"What is this place?" she asked.
"This," I said, my voice echoing in the vast, empty hall, "is Atlantis Production Line 01."
I walked to the main terminal. The screens flickered to life, displaying blueprints for technologies the Empire couldn't even dream of.
"The Empire is fighting for scraps of land on the surface," I said, placing my hand on the console. "I just acquired the bottom of the world."
A blue light scanned the room, purging the last of the dust.
[ Quest Complete: The War for the Sea. ]
[ Reward: Aquatic Dominion. ] [Passive Effect: You can breathe underwater. Sea life obeys your commands.]
[ Asset Unlocked: Atlantis Deep-Sea Factory. ]
[ Production Capability: Infinite. ]
Nero stepped forward, his boots heavy on the metal deck. He kicked a piece of the Leviathan's flesh that had stuck to his armor back into the water.
"The ocean is secured, My Lord," the Shadow General rumbled.
"Yes," I agreed, looking at the limitless potential of the factory. "Now... let's see what we can build down here that the Emperor won't see coming."
I turned to my team.
"Brok, fix the sub. Seraphina, catalog the inventory. Nero, guard the door."
I smiled, the blue light of the Precursor screens reflecting in my eyes.
"We have work to do."