Altered Intents

The water surged behind him, devouring the landscape in its relentless crawl. Demian's pulse pounded in his ears as he stumbled forward, his breath ragged, every muscle in his body screaming.

He had fought. He had escaped. But it didn't matter—the tide was rising. And this time, it wouldn't stop.

His boots splashed against the shallow pools forming around the ruins, the water already climbing past his ankles. He was running out of time. Too fast. Too much. His limbs felt sluggish, weighed down by exhaustion, by injury, by the sheer weight of survival.

He needed to find a high ground and fast .

Then—he saw it.

A silhouette in the distance, cutting through the darkened sky.

A structure.

Tall. Jagged. Rising above the ruins like a final beacon of salvation.

His chest heaved as he pushed forward, ignoring the burning in his legs, the way his wounds screamed with every movement. The tower was ancient—crumbling at the edges, weathered by time—but it was high. Maybe high enough.

Just a little more.

His fingers found the rough stone, wet and slick beneath his grip. His body begged for rest, but there was no time for hesitation. He dug his nails into the cracks, hoisting himself upward, every pull sending fire through his arms. His breath came in sharp bursts. His vision swam.

The ocean roared beneath him.

Higher.

His foot slipped. His stomach lurched, but he forced himself to hold on, his fingertips bleeding against the jagged edges.

Higher.

His arms trembled. His body screamed.

Almost there—

His head crested the top. He dragged himself over the ledge and collapsed onto the cold, rough surface, chest heaving, heart slamming against his ribs.

He made it!!

Just as he was heaving a sigh of relief.

But the victory was short-lived.

Because the water was still climbing.

His breath caught in his throat. He pushed himself upright, eyes darting to the endless horizon. The tide wasn't stopping. It should have stopped. But it wasn't slowing.

If anything, it was rising faster.

His stomach twisted.

No. This wasn't normal. The ocean wasn't following its cycle. The water level-it wasn't just high. It was wrong.

He was going to drown.

His fingers clenched into fists. No. There has to be a way.

His gaze darted downward, scanning the dark, churning waters below. He was now stuck with only water surrounding him and only structure visible were too far out of reach.

That's when he saw them—bubbles.

Rising in uneven bursts, swirling just below the surface.

An air pocket!!!

A hollow space beneath the ruins.

His throat tightened. It was a risk. A blind gamble. If it was a cave, there would be air. If it wasn't… he wouldn't be coming back up.

But the water was nearly at his feet now. He had seconds left.

His hands trembled as he sucked in one final, desperate breath—

—and he dove.

The cold struck him like a fist, crushing the air from his lungs. Darkness swallowed him whole. The ocean wrapped around him, thick and suffocating, dragging him down into its endless depths.

He kicked forward, his body screaming against the strain. His lungs burned. His vision blurred. He couldn't see anything—just the abyss stretching before him, endless and empty.

Move.

The pressure crushed against his skull. His ears rang. The cold sank into his bones, numbing everything. His strength was fading.

Move!

He was almost at the surface now.

Then—his fingers brushed against something.

Then-his fingers brushed against something. A break in the rock. A narrow passage. He would have missed it entirely... if not for the bubbles escaping from within

Hope flared.

He clawed his way through the narrow opening, his body scraping against rough stone. The tunnel was tight—suffocating—but he kept pushing, his arms trembling, his lungs begging for air.

His vision darkened.

Too long.

Too deep.

His body was shutting down.

Just one final push.....

Then—he broke through.

Air!!!

He gasped, choking on the sudden rush of oxygen, his entire body convulsing as he collapsed onto cold, damp stone.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of his own ragged breathing, the rapid hammering of his heartbeat. His limbs felt like lead, his muscles twitching in exhaustion.

Then, slowly, the world came into focus.

It was glowing.

Pale blue light pulsed from the stones in the walls, illuminating the cavern in an eerie, spectral glow. The walls shimmered, veins of luminous minerals embedded in the rock, casting long, twisting shadows across the ground.

He pushed himself up, wincing as pain flared through his body. The cave was larger than he expected, the ceiling arching high above him. Water dripped from the edges, echoing in the stillness.

This place was bigger than his expectations, he had thought it might just be a natural air pocket in the water but it was something more.

Then, he saw it.

To his left, A tunnel.

Dark. With just enough light from the walls illuminating the way.

Something about it sent a chill through his spine.

He wasn't alone here.

The night wasn't over yet.