Michael, gripping the armrest of his seat, heard Ryan’s words, which sounded almost like a decree, a declaration of dominance. He frowned briefly, then his eyes lit up with understanding. He got it. He finally understood what Ryan meant. The audacity, the wild idea, the quick reaction-it was all clear now.
“Boss, we’ve entered the vortex’s center zone,” Bill reported, as the ship suddenly jolted and began to rock violently.
The sea was no longer calm; it was pulsing and shifting, releasing an immense, unrelenting power. The ship could feel the catastrophic change, the stark difference from the outer edges.
“Shut down all other systems. Full speed ahead, follow the direction of the whirlpool,” Ryan said, his face grim.
He gripped the control lever and slammed it down hard. The battleship, which had been holding steady at its standard speed, instantly accelerated, slicing through the water like an arrow, heading straight forward.
At the center of the vortex, the massive wind and waves, the terrifying rotational force, were relentlessly pulling at the ship’s hull. The speed and pressure had exceeded what the warship could withstand.
Crack, crack-there were continuous snapping sounds coming from the ship’s structure. The cold, sea-salt-laden wind began to pour in from the ship’s cracked top, blowing everything and everyone sideways. If they hadn’t already secured themselves in place, they’d have been tossed around like ragdolls.
“The rotational force is increasing. The ship’s tilted at seventeen degrees,” Bill reported, his voice calm and steady. He didn’t even need the radar to judge; his familiarity with the ship’s movements gave him all the info he needed.
“The bilge water has exceeded ten percent.”
“The hull has deformed. The pressure on it has surpassed twenty-three percent of its maximum capacity.”
One report after another came in, each one clear and cool.
Michael, watching the Dark family members around him who seemed unfazed, clenched his teeth. This was the real difference-the difference between the underworld and the world above. The underworld fought for survival in the face of death, while the world above lived in a bubble, never truly understanding what it took to survive.
“The ship’s tilted at forty-five degrees.”
The entire ship had tilted, the water dragging it down toward the ocean’s depths. The wind and water were so strong that if it weren’t for the reinforced, top-tier metal construction of the bridge, it probably would’ve already shattered.
They had entered the vortex’s center, a whirlpool with a diameter of at least a thousand meters, constantly spinning. The force in the center could rip anything apart.
Both warships were now full throttle, following the current’s direction, spinning madly as they circled the massive vortex. Round after round, they were sucked closer and closer to the ever-deepening center.
“The ship’s tilted at ninety degrees.”
The ship had now completely tilted. Everyone was lying sideways, the ship now perpendicular to the vortex’s wall, almost parallel to the sea’s surface. The powerful pull of the vortex was pulling them deeper, down toward the ocean floor.
Echo was clinging to Ryan with all her strength. The wild spinning, and the complete lack of gravity, made her feel like her body was being torn apart with pain and dizziness. Hell might even feel better than this.
Her body was being stripped of strength, and she couldn’t take the constant torment. Her arms could barely keep the position. She couldn’t hold onto Ryan any longer. In a panic, she opened her eyes wide and tried to grab hold of him, but the tilted angle gave her no chance to breathe.
“Close your eyes. I’m here.” Ryan’s cold, commanding voice reached her ears.
One of his arms locked tightly around her body, pressing her firmly against his steel-like chest. The warmth of his body, the reassuring strength he exuded, made her feel safe. With him here, maybe even hell wouldn’t be so bad.
Ryan didn’t say anything else. His eyes narrowed as he tightened his hold on Echo, then slammed his hand down on the control lever again.
“Accelerate.”
The warship accelerated again, plunging forward with the current.
Darkness-overwhelming, all-consuming darkness-and the pressure intensified with every inch they descended. The entire ship was deforming under the strain; the sound of cracking metal echoed continuously, like the haunting noise of something from hell itself.
Deeper down, the vortex’s core grew strangely calm. The fierce winds and surging forces had faded, replaced by a crushing pressure squeezing the hull from all directions. This power, concealed and pure, was overwhelming and fierce, emanating from the ocean’s depths.
“Lift the bow,” Ryan ordered firmly, gripping the controls.
This was the moment he’d been waiting for-free from any outside force, only the pure spin of the vortex allowed for the kind of directional adjustment he needed.
There was no verbal response, just the synchronized sound of action.
In an instant, the ship, once plunging headfirst into the vortex, angled upward. The unmatched speed lifted it, propelling it toward the upper edge of the vortex.
As they drew closer to the surface, the terrifying forces of wind and water once again attacked. The already deformed hull creaked and cracked under the pressure. Gusts of wind and torrents of water flooded through shattered windows. Any unsecured objects were immediately sucked out through the broken hull, vanishing in an instant.
Michael and the others were strapped tightly in place, but the relentless suction pulled at their bodies. Michael’s face distorted from the pressure, his body beginning to lift, barely held down by the steel harness around his waist, keeping him from being flung out like the unanchored objects disappearing into the abyss.
The members of the Dark family remained expressionless, their faces hard. Despite the violent shaking, the occasional object crashing into them, and even the blood trickling from split skin, not one of them uttered a word or showed a flicker of fear-they were cold, steady, and resolute.
Echo, without any straps, was held firmly in place by a strong arm wrapped tightly around her. Even in this violent spinning and powerful suction, she didn’t move an inch.
Echo clenched her teeth, clinging to Ryan. Her head and face, exposed at an angle over Ryan’s shoulder, left her vulnerable to the whipping wind. Her eyes widened at the sight of objects being sucked out around her, her dizziness rendering her speechless.
In a hazy blur, she saw something sharp and metallic hurtling toward Ryan’s back, catching the only light in the bridge, glinting with a deadly gleam.
Without thinking, Echo quickly moved, wrapping both arms around Ryan’s head, shielding the back of his head completely with her arms. She hadn’t even managed to close her eyes when the object struck her arm with full force.
It was a piece of metal. After slamming into Echo’s arm, it halted for a split second before being sucked out through a gap in the hull, disappearing instantly.
Echo quickly lowered her hands, not daring to block Ryan’s view. She held onto his neck tightly, forcing her eyes wide open to watch every area behind him that he couldn’t see. She knew she couldn’t let Ryan get distracted-not even for a second-and she couldn’t let anything happen to him. Even though she felt miserable, she had to take on the responsibility of protecting him right now.
Blood trickled down Echo’s arm, staining her sleeve red, one drop after another splattering onto the floor of the cabin.
The metal shard, which hadn’t been very sharp before, had become like a blade under intense force, and a simple collision now felt like being sliced open.
Michael was sitting directly across from Echo, taking everything in. He watched as Echo, pale but determined, kept her eyes wide open, focusing on Ryan’s back. Her arms were tightly wrapped around his neck, ready to act at a moment’s notice. Her mixture of fragility and strength hit him like a punch to the chest. A wave of deep sorrow and tenderness flooded over him, filling him with a sharp ache.
He wanted to tell her not to use her hands, not to sacrifice her body to block things.
But what could be done now? What could he do?
They couldn’t move, couldn’t leave.
As he watched the blood continue to flow down Echo’s arm, Michael’s eyes began to redden. For the first time, he desperately wished nothing would fly toward Ryan, that nothing would harm him-because that would hurt Echo too.
Ryan, however, seemed completely unaware of any of it. His hand, still gripping the control lever, didn’t twitch an inch. His figure, as solid and unyielding as steel, didn’t budge. It was as if nothing, not even the shaking of the ship, registered with him.
The pressure in the cabin continued to rise, as the ship raced upward, following the current. In just an instant, they shot up from the ocean’s depths. The water had already been moving at insane speeds, but with Ryan pushing the ship to its limits, the combined force was beyond any normal calculation.
The hull began to crack, and the immense pressure pushed against the broken parts, intensifying the strain on everyone inside. It felt like they could barely breathe, the air thick with the smell of blood, but no one spoke, no one moved.