The rain had finally stopped.
Seven years of endless storm had left scars not even time could heal.
The world was no longer what it once was. Cities that had once towered proudly above the clouds now slept at the bottom of the sea, their steel skeletons rusting beneath dark waters. Bridges that connected nations were broken in half, vanishing beneath waves. Farmlands that once fed millions lay under blankets of saltwater, lifeless and empty. The oceans had swallowed half the continents, and what remained above water was scattered, fragmented, and precious.
Survivors clung to whatever scraps they could find. Some turned ships into homes, drifting endlessly across the drowned world. Others fought over the peaks of mountains that now stood as islands, blood soaking into their last pieces of land. Humanity had survived, but survival had made them monsters.
Trade collapsed, governments fell, and from the chaos rose a new kind of power—those who controlled the seas. Pirates, raiders, and mercenaries carved territories across the endless waters. They hunted the weak, plundered supplies, and fought one another for dominance. Yet even among these cruel rulers, whispers spread of a forbidden place… a place surrounded by storms and a monstrous guardian.
The place was Mickey's domain.
---
Beneath the water, hidden from every desperate eye, Mickey lived in the bunker that had once been the laboratory of his creators. When the floods came, he had sealed himself away, and unlike the world above, he thrived. The bunker was filled with food, weapons, and technology beyond the reach of ordinary survivors. Its walls were built to withstand centuries, its defenses sharp enough to cut through any intruder's plans.
But Mickey knew one truth — the world would eventually come for him.
Humans, when desperate, were like wolves. And so, he prepared.
He created illusions.
The first illusion was the vortex — a swirling whirlpool that rose above his hidden base, a storm of water that seemed endless, pulling in everything that drifted too close. From the surface, it was terrifying, an eternal spiral that no ship dared to test. Survivors told tales of it, some claiming it was the mouth of the ocean itself, others believing it was cursed by the gods.
For years, it worked. No one came near. His base remained untouched.
But illusions were not eternal.
---
The seventh year after the rain ended, whispers began to shift. Some survivors, skilled sailors hardened by storms, began to doubt.
"Whirlpools don't stay in one place forever," one of them muttered to his crew as they stared across the water. "Storms move, seas change. Yet this… this has been here for years."
Another spat over the side of his boat, his eyes narrow. "It's a trick. Something's hiding there. Something valuable."
The illusion that had kept Mickey safe was now becoming bait.
And Mickey knew it.
That was when he shifted to his second illusion — the shark.
---
It was not a real beast, though to the eye it was flawless. A colossal shadow lurked beneath the waters, fins slicing the surface, teeth glinting when the moonlight touched them. Sailors swore it was larger than any creature alive, a predator that circled the vortex, waiting to devour anything foolish enough to challenge the sea.
Tales spread quickly. Survivors called it "the demon shark," a guardian of the abyss. Entire camps spoke of it in hushed voices, swearing that its glowing eyes had followed them through the fog.
And again, Mickey's illusion worked. Fear is stronger than steel, and no man dared fight what he believed to be a god's punishment.
But just like the vortex, the shark illusion could not last forever.
---
It started with a single ship. A band of raiders who had lost everything to rival pirates. They were desperate, armed with nothing but harpoons and courage born of starvation.
One of them stood at the bow, pointing to the circling shadow. "Look! It doesn't bleed. It doesn't hunt. It only circles."
The others watched for hours. The shark swam, dove, surfaced… but never attacked. It never changed. It never fed.
"It's not real," the raider spat. "It's a ghost."
Word spread. From one ship to another. From one survivor's mouth to the next. The demon shark was no longer a god, no longer a terror — it was an illusion.
And with that revelation, fear turned to greed.
---
Mickey stood in the bunker, watching through the screens, his jaw tight. His illusions were faltering. The stories he had planted in people's hearts were breaking apart. The waters around his home were no longer silent. More ships came, circling the vortex, daring to test it.
At first they stayed distant, watching. Then they drew closer, throwing rocks into the water, testing if the whirlpool pulled them in. It didn't. They laughed.
Some grew bold, sending small boats into the edge of the current. The water churned, but no storm dragged them down. The men survived, returning to their ships with triumphant grins.
The secret was out.
The illusion of fear that had guarded Mickey's world was crumbling.
---
Inside the bunker, Mickey clenched his fists. His technology hummed, his weapons were sharp, but he had always relied on shadows, on fear. Now, he faced the truth: humans were not only greedy, they were persistent. Once they smelled the possibility of treasure, no illusion could hold them back.
He asked himself the question he had avoided for years:
Would his progress be destroyed?
The bunker was strong, yes. But supplies were finite. The generators that powered his illusions were running low. If raiders kept coming, if they dared to dive… sooner or later, one of them would get close enough to see the truth. And once they did, they would not stop.
The walls would fall. The food would be stolen. His sanctuary would become their prize.
Mickey leaned back in his chair, staring at the endless monitors showing the waters above. Ships moved in the distance, shadows of men who believed they had uncovered a secret worth killing for. His mind raced, his heart steady but heavy.
He had built everything with his own hands, carved survival out of a drowned world. And now, in a cruel twist, the very thing that had saved him — deception — was becoming the weapon others would use against him.
The ocean outside trembled with voices, sails, and steel. And Mickey asked himself the question that clawed into his thoughts:
Would he lose everything? Or would fate twist again, bending the world in his favor as it always seemed to?
Would his plot armor save him?
The answer waited in the shadows of the sea.
And the hunters were coming.