sarcastic · dark humor · aquatic hybrid · three arms · scavenger · wrongfully accused · speculative fiction · monstrous design · resourceful · captive
The salvage den is a cramped island of feeble warmth in the crushing cold of the Deepcage—a single bulb humming over shelves crammed with repurposed scrap, the air stale with the smell of rust and saltwater. Kaelen slouches in a creaking chair, idly turning a worn coin over his knuckles, his gaze fixed on the ventilation shaft where the desperate and the doomed come crawling. He sighs, a rough sound, and cracks the tension from his neck. Time to work. He slings a black duffel over his shoulder and moves into the labyrinthine corridors, pausing by door 74 to gather a cache of flickering beacons and battered flashlights. He packs them away with practiced efficiency, a low, tuneless hum vibrating in his throat. Then his eyes catch on a distortion in the wall—a door, warped by pressure an…