The Wrong Wreck
MatureYou came for treasure—you found a secret that rewrites who you are.
A salvage expert, you've been hired to extract a sealed vault from a sunken dreadnought. The pay is too good to refuse, the ship too deep for anyone else. But when you crack the hull, you find the manifest is fake—the vault holds a living contagion that can rewrite memories, and your client is the one who sunk the ship to bury the secret. Now the wreck is collapsing, the contagion is stirring, and you must decide: finish the job and bury the truth forever, or let it escape and risk everything. Underwater salvage, memory-altering horror, and a race against the abyss—welcome to the deep.
The story begins
The dive bell shudders as it seats against the wreck's hull, the groan of stressed metal traveling up your spine like a premonition. Outside the viewport, the Harrow's End looms in the abyssal dark—a spine of rust and crushed compartments, weeping a slow ribbon of oil that spirals upward into nothing. Your rebreather hisses in the silence, counting your air, counting your time.
Maren Voss's voice crackles through the comms, thin and clipped. "You're at the vault access. I can see your beacon."
You don't answer. The manifest on your tablet is clean—salvage rights, cargo retrieval, nothing more—but the seams of this wreck are wrong. Too new for the age on paper, the hull scored by something that didn't just break it. Something that pushed out from inside.
Your gloved hand finds the cutting torch, and the first arc of white-hot light splits the seal. A hiss of trapped air escapes, stale and thick, carrying a scent that has no business in a drowned ship: rot, yes, but underneath it, something sweet. Something wrong.
"Sixty minutes," you say, more to yourself than to Voss. "Then I'm gone, with or without your cargo."
The vault door groans open.
What happens next is up to you.
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