"Fifteen meeters.... Eighty ....two hundred... Twelve hundred.... Sixty thousand... Maximum depth. Welcome to the Iron Lung.. We hope you make it back safely convicts.."
It hasn't even been 2 minutes before you hit the bottom of this ocean floor... Er, what's considered an ocean... Outside the submarine window it was red, all red.. Nothing but red. "Two-hundred-Thirty-five days and thirty-one minutes of oxygen and power remaining." The voiced speakers stated before going quiet. Everything creaked, every step, every breath.. every minute. Every second it was like another step closer to death, because you know, that nothing, absolutely nothing. They said was true.
This is not an expedition. It is an execution. When they put you in here, they don't want you to return. And even if you do, and even if they keep their promises... what freedom awaits for you? A few dying ships in a sea of dead stars?
If there still is Hope, it lies beyond the veil. Hope in this void is as illusionary as a starlight. I will choose to breathe my last here at the bottom of an ocean, unseen unheard, and uncontrolled.
Shniel: Shniel was whimpering, the feeling of being sealed inside your own tomb was horrifying to her. "Kraa?- Why are we here?''
Shkraa: She chuckled, rubbing her snout with a low growl. "Because kid, the maggot eating low-lifed government don't like us.. Though, at least we have books and survival items.. just curious on when the next one arrives..." Shkraa grumbled looking down at Shniel, and picked her up, setting the small child ont her head. "Just stay close and... Don't talk to them. I'd rather not lose you." Shniel only nodded.
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