Chu gripped the taut ropes as the balloon lurched violently, battered by the storm’s relentless fury. He peered toward the flicker of the lighthouse beacon in the distance—a fragile promise of safety —and offered a silent prayer that the wind would carry him toward the narrow strip of land.

The burner sputtered in protest as rain lashed against the balloon’s fabric, threatening to rip it apart as it careened towards the black sea. He hesitated, his hand hovering near the burner valve, as he fought the urge to stoke the flame, knowing it would send him off course. No. Not yet.  Don’t look down. Just follow the light.

A violent jolt pitched the basket sideways. He clung to its edge, looking down at the spearpoint that pierced the wicker floor. A rope trailed from its shaft, snaking downward to a figure clad in oilskins. Silhouetted like a whaler hauling in his catch, the figure wrestled with the wheel of an immense winch, slowly dragging the balloon toward the land below.

It descended in jerky, uneven movements, the wind fighting every inch until it slammed onto the rocks with bone-rattling force. The basket skidded along, dragged forward until it came to a final halt, the balloon fabric rippling as its last breath escaped into the storm.

A past Jorgen had left behind slipped into view as the faint silhouette of Katadesis emerged on the horizon. The city stood alone, its stone walls bathed in the soft hues of dusk, shrouded in grand isolation. Its face turned towards the barren expanse of the surrounding landscape.

The airship hummed softly as it soared over the warm glow of streetlights that threaded through the city below, the Victorian architecture stretching skywards in ornate splendour. Jorgen peered through the observation window as they passed the Library of Isotheos before gliding back into the open skies and turning to face the landing port. Behind it, the Tesla Power Station cast a faint blue hue against the encroaching night.

The engine’s tone deepened, slowing as they approached the docking mast. Crimson beams marked the landing zone; their lights caught on the faces of the ground crew looking up as the airship’s bulk descended, its hull gleaming under the floodlights. With a final adjustment, a barely perceptible tremor rippled through the ship as it gently kissed the mooring mast. A muffled thud resonated as the vessel settled into place and the ground crew sprang into action, securing cables and engaging locks.

.

The vibration pulsated deep beneath his skin, a soft and steady beat in tune with his heart. The frigid air that had been his constant companion began to dissipate. Overhead, the aurora borealis lit up the night sky, its vibrant waves of colour washing over him. The feeling within him intensified, every atom yearning to be liberated, to join the dance of lights above.
Suddenly, a deafening explosion shattered the stillness of the vast expanse. Specks of light filled the air, gravitating towards a common focal point, as if drawn by an invisible force.

Chu briefly considered that his only protection from the perilous icy waters was the suit enclosing him. Pushing the thought aside, he followed the rope to the U-boat’s deck and lowered himself into the creaky hull. He recalled Jorgen’s warning: ‘You only have twenty minutes of air; time is everything.’

They had agreed that Jorgen would keep watch while Chu explored the interior. He scoured the frigid depths, peering through the thick glass of his helmet; catching movement in the inky waters he strained to discern the shape, then gasped.
‘That can’t be possible.’

.