Echoes of the Abyss

1.

A frigid wind howls around me as I step onto the deck of the remote research facility, the metal grating biting into my palms as I steady myself against the rolling waves. A thin mist of seawater coats my face, mixing with the chill. In the distance, the slate-grey sky meets the turbulent ocean in a blurred horizon, an ominous welcome to my new assignment.

Pulling my coat tighter around me, I squint against the stinging cold as I take in my bleak surroundings. All I can see is dark waters stretching endlessly into the horizon and the looming silhouette of Avernus Station jutting out like a monolith from the abyss, sharp-edged and leached of color as the mountains in the distance. Are they mountains or the edge of an ice field? Despite the harsh and desolate environment, a small smile tugs at my lips. Avernus Station—it's real, and I'm finally here!

Doubts swirl in my mind as I question, not for the first time, what I'm doing here in this desolate place. But I know the answer—I'm here to escape, to start anew, to bury myself in cutting-edge research and leave my troubled past behind in the world above. The secrets of human consciousness and the promise of groundbreaking discoveries proved too enticing to resist, despite the cold and isolation. Or perhaps because of it.

As I approach the specialized transport pod that will take me into the depths, a sudden, piercing metallic screech rends the air, sending a jolt of primal terror down my spine. The sound is all too reminiscent of twisting metal and shattering glass, the discordant symphony of the car crash that forever shattered my world when I was only a child.

I freeze, my breath coming in sharp, panicked gasps as unbidden images of the accident flash through my mind. The acrid stench of burning rubber and spilled gasoline. The coppery taste of blood on my tongue. The rag doll limpness of my parents' bodies in the front seat, their features obscured by crimson...

"No!" I whisper fiercely, digging my nails into my palms until the pain drags me back to the present. I will not let the ghosts of my past rule me. Not here, not now. Blinking away the tears that have gathered in the corners of my eyes, I force myself to take a deep, steadying breath, focusing on the bite of the icy air in my lungs.

I'm greeted by a burly figure whose thick puffer coat makes him look like an astronaut, only with a fur-trimmed hood instead of a helmet. A powerful gust of wind tears back his hood, revealing thick dark hair whose ends curl around his ears. He nods briefly before reaching out a gloved hand in greeting. A visible puff of white accompanies each word he speaks.

"Emily Hayes, I presume? I'm Dr. Marcus, the project leader. Welcome to Avernus Station, our little outpost on the edge of understanding." His handshake is firm, his enthusiasm evident, and the warmth in his smile contrasts sharply with the sterility of our surroundings. "You've arrived just in time to witness a revolution in cognitive science. This way, please."

I nod, falling into step behind him. Our footfalls ring out in discordant rhythm as we navigate the slippery deck, then a set of narrow metal stairs, setting my nerves on edge. I can't shake the feeling that I'm descending into the belly of some underwater beast.

Dr. Marcus glances back, brow furrowing at my unease. "Avernus takes some getting used to, at first. But you'll soon see the importance of our work here."

I wonder if I could ever get used to this place—the way the shadows cling to every surface, every corner harboring an unseen horror. But I've come too far to let superstition get the best of me now. I'm here to do a job, no matter how unsettled I feel.

"I certainly hope so, Dr. Marcus," I reply, steeling myself as we plunge deeper. I focus on the excitement of the research to come, using it to push back against the darkness. But then, an image of my newfound quarters, isolated and claustrophobic as this downward passage, rears itself in my mind. Can I really withstand so much oppressive solitude?