Through faint gaps of filtered light, he caught glimpses: streaks of silver fish, shadows of massive bodies turning in formation. The darkness swayed in rhythm, almost hypnotic. Despite terror clawing at him, he also felt a strange safety, as though this living fortress had claimed him for reasons beyond understanding.
On deck, arguments boiled. One diver insisted they must use sonar blasts to drive the whales up. Another shouted that sonar might rupture Nathaniel’s eardrums, or worse. The coastguard listened grimly, caught between urgency and restraint. Every option seemed poised on a knife’s edge, between rescue and irreparable harm.