Chapter 4: Undercurrents

The canoe slid like a withered leaf through the chocolate-thick waters of the tributary. Rainforest walls pressed in on either side, vines dangling like serpent tongues that brushed against Leah's sweat-dampened temples. The river churned with whirlpools of rotting leaves and silt, and beneath the surface, elongated shadows occasionally surfaced, tightening Renée's grip on her compound bow. "Don't touch the water," she whispered, her voice razor-thin. "Piranhas are hungriest in the dry season. So are the caimans."

Leah clutched her backpack strap, her father's note—"Guardians Awake. Door Unopenable"—scorching her thoughts. Suddenly, the water split in a slick ripple—not a fish, but a slow, elongated shape. A caiman's spine surfaced like rusted serrations, its yellow-green eyes glinting like rotten olives among the duckweed before vanishing. Renée's bowstring drew to a full moon, the arrow tracking the shadow, but the beast sank silently, leaving only an oily smear.

I. Reflection in the Water

The channel was blocked by fallen timber. Renée leapt into waist-deep muck, hacking through vines tangled around the canoe's prow. Foul sludge rose to her hips; submerged roots coiled like the ribs of a beast. "Look there!" Leah pointed to the right bank—a half-submerged Mayan pillar, its carvings eroded by water, save for a single eye symbol. A turquoise stone embedded in its pupil glowed faintly through the murk.

"A Water Temple marker," Renée gasped, shoving aside rotten wood. "The ancients built shrines on rivers... let currents cleanse sins—" She froze. In the water's reflection, Orion's Belt trailed toward the pillar. "Your father's 'stargazing underwater'—" Her pupils sharpened. "It's not the reflection! It's the actual stars, seen from below!"

Leah unfurled the star chart. On the bark paper, three vermilion dots formed an arrow pointing to the sunken pillar. She tore open its waterproof casing and plunged it into the river—mineral pigments dissolved, revealing hidden circuitry beneath: concentric rings spiraling into grooves, centered by her father's scrawled note—​"Calibration Point: When Three Stars Align with the Temple's Eye."​​

II. The Caiman's Kiss

"You stay!" Renée shoved a flare gun into Leah's hand, then gripped a dagger between her teeth and dove toward the pillar. Murky water swallowed her, leaving only bubbles. Leah watched the reflection: Orion's Belt slid toward the turquoise eye. Suddenly, Renée surfaced, flinging wet hair from her eyes. "Metal platform below! Slot matches the star chart—"

Before she finished, the water exploded ten meters away! A caiman's jaws snapped at Renée's neck, fangs grazing her artery. She rammed her dagger into its eye socket—black blood fountained as the beast thrashed, dragging her under.

"Renée!" Leah fired the flare. A crimson fireball screamed into the canopy. The water boiled, frothing with blood and foam. Desperate, Leah grabbed a geologist's hammer and plunged into the river. Foul sludge filled her nostrils. Groping toward the struggle, she collided with cold metal—Renée's platform! Orion's reflection aligned with the turquoise eye.

She pressed the star chart's spiral groove against the platform's center and hammered it home.

III. The Abyssal Gate

The riverbed shuddered. Jagged fissures split the pillar's base, sucking water into a vortex. Renée surfaced, hauling herself free of the caiman's corpse, her shoulder mangled. "The door's open! Go!" They were swept into a dark tunnel. Behind them, stone ground against stone—a tomb-seal. The caiman's body slammed against it like a funeral bell.

The tunnel sloped upward; water thinned. Renée's flashlight pierced the gloom: seamless bronze alloy walls etched with non-Euclidean fluid patterns, like frozen liquid metal. The air reeked of rust and ozone. "Not Mayan work," Leah traced the wall, fingertips sensing a faint pulse. "This alloy... it feels alive."

Vibrations intensified! Wall patterns glowed blue, forming arrows pointing deeper. Renée tore off a blood-soaked bandage and pressed it to the wall—blue light flared crimson! "It's scanning biomass," she hissed. "Move!"

IV. A Father's Bloodstain

The tunnel opened into a cavern. A bronze-gray city sprawled below, structures like skeletal beasts twisted in unnatural geometries. Luminescent crystal clusters dangled from the ceiling, casting cold blue light. At its heart, a conical altar loomed, a gear-shaped halo suspended above it, rotating silently.

Before the altar's base, Leah knelt. Gouged into the metal floor was her father's handwriting:

​GUARDIANS​

​DOOR UNOPENABLE​

​KEY IS CHAINS​

Edges of the letters were stained black with oxidized blood. "He bled here..." Her fingertip brushed the word "KEY." The metal rippled, projecting a hologram: her father, Carlos, slotting a pocket watch into the altar—while three jagged shadows peeled from the wall behind him. The image vanished.

Renée yanked Leah up: "Shadows moving!" Fluid patterns across nearby buildings liquefied, coalescing into hovering black geometries that spun like blades.

V. The Jungle's Bind

Laser grids descended, sealing exits. Renée fired three arrows; they vaporized against the geometries. "Cover!" She toppled a broken metal column. As Leah fell, she glimpsed fresh scratches beneath her father's words:

​SONIC DISINTEGRATOR BELOW​

​STAR CHART DRIVES IT​

Geometric shadows loomed overhead. Renée's bow shattered under laser fire; she drew her hunting knife, sparks flying as she slashed at a shadow's core. "Use this!" Leah hurled the star chart. Bark paper struck shadow—blue light detonated, freezing the entity mid-air!

"The chart's their weakness!" Leah screamed. But more shadows swarmed. Renée tore open her collar, revealing an amber-studded bone pendant—the emblem of Leah's father's expedition. "Tell your father—" She thrust the chart back at Leah. "His watch is atop the altar—"

A shadow-blade pierced Renée's abdomen. Blood sprayed across the star chart. Constellations ignited like living fire!

VI. The Amber Key

Explosions rocked the cavern ceiling. Indigenous warriors rappelled down, poison arrows striking geometries. "Disaster-awakeners!" Elder Kukuma's roar shook the walls. "Seal this with blood sacrifice!"

Amid chaos, Leah lunged for the altar. Her father's hologram reappeared, trembling finger pointing downward. She pressed the blood-soaked chart to the altar's base—blue light traced crimson paths—and the ground collapsed!

Below lay a pit woven of human bones and metal conduits. At its center stood a pillar studded with pipe-organ pipes. In the bones' eye sockets, amber fragments gleamed like tears.

"Sonic disintegrator..." Leah crawled toward the console. Renée's amber pendant glowed fiercely in a control slot. Beside it, a Mayan numeral: ​4.

Kukuma's arrow pressed against Leah's spine. "Requires four Season Heart-Stones! Your father destroyed the Winter Stone—"

Before he finished, the bloodied chart liquefied, seeping into Leah's right arm. Luminous veins surged beneath her skin to her fingertips! She plunged her hand into the console—

Machinery roared. Pipes expanded like a beast breathing. High-frequency hums shattered the geometries. But the bone-pit's eyes snapped open. A cold voice echoed:

​PROTOCOL UPDATE: NEW CONTAINER SYNCH RATE 41%. SACRIFICE REMAINING LIFE TO MAINTAIN SEAL FOR 59 MINUTES.​​

Leah's right arm went numb. She looked up to the altar—her father's watch rotated in its halo, its face reflecting black nanogray mist rising from the pit.

The "Door" was opening.