Underwater Haven

The shed was small. Rusted metal roof, peeling blue paint, stray fishing nets clinging to the walls like ghost webs. Zina and Hana stood under the moonlight, the cold ocean breeze biting their exposed skin.

Zina pulled her oversized black hoodie tighter, frowning down at the metal card Malik had given them. "Are you sure this is it?" she muttered."This better not be a setup," She flicked her bubblegum-pink hair out of her eyes. She held up the sleek metal card Malik had given them.

"Unless there's another creepy murder shed by the docks," Hana replied, shivering. She peeked around the edge. "Ugh, smells like soggy crabs."

Suddenly, the card blinked with a soft ping. A hologram flickered to life, projecting a translucent woman with waist-length white hair and glowing red eyes. Her voice was calm, metallic, yet strangely melodic.

"Is that… is that me?" she whispered.

"Damn girl," Hana teased, smirking. "He built a hentai AI waifu version of you. That boy is down cataclysmically bad."

"Welcome, Zina," the hologram said, inclining her head. "Welcome, Hana. I am Neve, Malik's AI assistant."

Zina's jaw dropped. She took a step forward. The woman's face… it looked just like hers. The same bone structure. The same nose. Even the faint scar under the chin. It was her—an older, ethereal version.

Hana cackled. "Girl. Tell me why your boy literally made an AI that looks like you. Malik is down horrendously."

Zina scowled, cheeks burning hot pink under the dim holographic glow. "Shut up. He probably… I dunno… it's just… it doesn't matter. He's just a stupid childhood friend."

Hana snorted. "Yeah, a childhood friend who programs AI waifus in your image. He's practically your hentai sugar daddy."

"Gross! Shut UP!"

Neve ignored them. "Please proceed to the entrance," she said serenely, pointing to a rusted trapdoor in the floor.

Hana waggled her brows. "Ooooh is this where Soda Pop comes from? Daddy Malik's secret pet name for you—"

Before she could finish, the shed rumbled. The floor split beneath their feet, collapsing inwards with a metallic shriek. Both girls screamed as they plunged down a dark shaft.

"WHAT THE FUUUUU—!"

They didn't have time to brace. The drop jolted to a smooth stop seconds later. Their heads spun as glowing lights flickered on, illuminating a reinforced aquamarine glass tunnel stretching out before them. Beyond the walls, schools of silver fish swam by, their bodies glimmering like underwater stars.

"Holy… shit…" Hana whispered. "We're… under the sea…"

Neve's voice echoed gently through speakers. "Welcome to Haven Base. Please make yourselves at home. Malik will arrive shortly. Enjoy your stay."

Then the wall blinked to life, showing a video of Malik in tactical gear, his blonde cornrows tied back, his golden eyes dark and serious.

"Hey. If you're seeing this… it means I'm alive and you're alive. This is my base. Lay low here until I come for you. Don't do anything stupid. There's food. Beds. Dont poke around or touch anything. Make yourselves at home."

The video ended.

Zina exhaled shakily. Hana smirked. "Damn. Assassin sugar daddy coming through."

"Oh my God you're such a dick" Zina hissed, face flaming. She stalked down the glowing hallway towards the private rooms. The door slid open to reveal her designated space: minimalist black floors, sleek metal walls, and an entire glass wall opening to the ocean. Schools of fish, drifting jellyfish, and silent whale songs filled the world beyond the glass. The ceiling lit up with bioluminescent star patterns.

"Wow…" she breathed, setting down her bag.

After unpacking their few salvaged bags, and preparing spicy ramen from the fully stocked kitchen, Hana and Zina sat in the glowing ocean-view room. The sea outside pulsed with bioluminescent life, casting rippling blue shadows across Zina's pale face. She hugged her knees to her chest, staring at the swirling jellyfish drifting by.

"…They look like ghosts," Zina whispered, eyes wide with a mix of awe and unease.

"Cute ghosts," Hana replied, slurping loudly and very unapologetically from her noodles. "Like, if Casper was a sea pancake."

Zina snorted mid-thought, which turned into a full-on laugh. It broke the eerie silence that had hung over them since arrival. And just like that, the weight of everything that had happened before—the evacuation, the crashing ship, the sudden luxury of this mysterious underwater haven—seemed to momentarily lift.

Hana wiped her mouth with her sleeve. "Wanna go poke around?"

Zina blinked. "You mean… like explore? Without adult supervision?"

"Exactly. Zero supervision. Maximum poking."

"God, yes."

"But you know Malike said we should poke around " Zina said. They both looked at each other blankly for two minutes straight before bursting into a fit of laughter and doing exactly what they were instructed not to do.

They crept out of the cozy common room and into the adjacent corridors like two gremlins on a sugar high. The underwater facility was massive—sleek, curving white walls, ambient lighting, and the occasional holographic panel flickering to life as they walked past.

"Okay this place is definitely not for kids," Zina said, stopping to gawk at a touchscreen labeled 'Biohazard Protocol: Level 7 Clearance Required.'

"Pfft, nothing labeled biohazard has ever been boring. Let's find something that says explosives next."

They continued their expedition, taking turns guessing which room was which before peeking inside like nosy toddlers.

They stumbled into a hydro-bio cultivation lab, a greenhouse-like chamber that smelled faintly of salt, ozone, and… was that bubblegum?

Inside were rows of glowing containment pods and hovering mist sprayers that nurtured the most bizarre flora they'd ever seen.

"I'm scared," Zina muttered. "This place smells like the breath of a cartoon villain."

The plants in question weren't normal by any metric. In one corner were pulsing, egg-shaped fruits with translucent skin, showing slow-moving veins inside them—like they were dreaming… or plotting. Each one had a tiny stem that would occasionally wiggle.

"What... are those?" Hana whispered.

A panel nearby lit up as they stepped forward:

'Specimen: Fructa Quasi-Sentientia (Codename: Fruitlettas). Status: semi-conscious. Approach with kindness.'

"Did it just say approach… with kindness?" Zina blinked. "Do these things... bite feelings?"

One of the fruits suddenly made a chirrup noise and sneezed a puff of glitter.

Hana screamed. "IT GLITTERED ON ME."

Another fruitletta yawned—a whole-body ripple that made its jellylike core jiggle—and then slowly turned itself toward Hana with an audible squelch.

"Back away slowly," Zina whispered, eyes wide.

The fruit wiggled again. Then burped. A small bubble floated up from its stem, popped midair, and released the smell of warm peach cobbler and existential dread.

"Why does that smell like dessert and therapy?" Hana hissed.

"I don't know but if one of them talks to me I'm going to cry and then punch it."

They named their three favorites:

Blobatha Christie (the one that looked suspiciously like it was always judging them),

Squishoncé (who glitter-sneezed at random),

and Carl. (Who did nothing but blink slowly and emit whale noises).

---

Then they found the armory.

And oh baby—this was when things truly went from curiosity to criminal mischief.

The door opened with a dramatic hiss, revealing racks of weapons—lasers, plasma rifles, taser nets, swords that glowed faintly like they were humming lullabies to themselves.

Zina's eyes sparkled. "We are absolutely not supposed to be here."

"That's a green flag," Hana said, already picking up a gun bigger than her torso.

It immediately activated and projected a floating screen that read:

WARNING: Inert Mode Disabled. Training Protocol Active.

"Oops?" Hana squeaked.

The gun whirred, beeped, then auto-aimed at a mannequin in the corner and fired off a tiny pulse that gently scorched its fake eye.

Zina dove behind a metal crate. "What the hell, that thing just blink-sniped that dummy!"

They spent the next fifteen minutes trying every weapon they could safely activate. Most were disabled, but a few worked just enough for them to feel like kids in a post-apocalyptic Toys R Us. Zina found a boomerang-shaped plasma blade that glowed fuchsia.

"Name it," Hana said.

Zina twirled it like a baton. "Princess Trauma."