THE BLUE LED LIGHTS OF THE ABYSSAL SILK WEDDING DRESS FORETOLD A SHIPWRECK

The secure federal transport vehicle sped down the coastal highway toward the federal courthouse in downtown Manhattan. Victoria sat in the back seat, the heavy abyssal silk dress rustling softly with every subtle movement she made. The blue LED lights embedded in the gown pulsed faintly beneath her seatbelt, casting a gentle sapphire glow across the dark leather interior.

Her phone rested in her lap, the screen glowing brightly with the ominous text message she had received just seconds before the vehicle doors slammed shut.

Coordinate: 40.7128° N, 74.0060° W. Drop out of the trial today, or the remaining survivors from the Leviathan II will face a permanent blackout.

Victoria’s breath hitched. She stared at the screen, her mind racing. The message implied something terrifying: David and Martha were not the only survivors of the 1994 disaster. There were others—hidden away, forgotten by the world, living under the radar while her father’s company profited off their silent exile.

She looked up at the federal marshal sitting in the front passenger seat, who was busy reviewing case files on a ruggedized tablet.

"Agent Miller," Victoria said, her voice calm but urgent.

The marshal turned around in his seat, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, Ms. Sterling? Do you need a moment before we arrive at the courthouse?"

"How many people were actually on board the Leviathan VII when it went down thirty years ago?" Victoria asked, leaning forward.

Agent Miller hesitated, closing his tablet with a soft click. "The official manifest listed twenty-two crew members and specialists. But when the salvage teams brought the wreckage back—or what was left of it—only two bodies were ever recovered. The rest were officially classified as lost at sea due to structural implosion."

"They weren't lost," Victoria whispered, her hands trembling slightly against her lap. "My father's company didn't just abandon them in the trench... they kept them hidden in offshore quarantine facilities to ensure no one ever leaked the design flaws of the vessel."

Agent Miller stared at her, the color draining from his face. "Ms. Sterling, what do you know?"

Before Victoria could answer, the transport vehicle violently swerved to the right, tires screeching against the wet asphalt as the driver slammed on the brakes. A massive, unmarked black semi-truck had cut across three lanes of traffic, blocking the highway completely and trapping the federal vehicle against the concrete guardrail.

Through the windshield, Victoria saw the driver of the semi jump out from the cab, wearing a heavy tactical mask and leveling a heavy-duty EMP device directly toward their vehicle.