The ocean around him had grown darker.
The deeper he went, the quieter the world became. Sunlight fractured above, fading into thin silver ribbons before vanishing completely.
Below was only darkness.
Inside the cage, Seojun turned slowly, the small probe in his hand sending a faint beam across the reef. Coral, stone, drifting sand.
Nothing moved.
Just the slow sway of underwater currents.
Yet the feeling remained. Something was there. Watching.
Seojun tilted his head slightly, focusing on the darker section of rock beneath the formation. The probe's light slid across uneven stone, revealing narrow gaps and shadows deep enough to swallow anything hiding inside them.
Then—
Something pale.
At first he couldn't understand what he was seeing. The light shifted again with the water's movement, and he leaned forward slightly, squinting through the shadows. A faint unease crept over him.
It looked like nothing more than a piece of fabric caught on the reef. Something thin drifts slowly in the current.
Seojun tilted his head.
Long strands floated weightlessly in the water. Hair. Dark, tangled strands.
His chest tightened instantly.
It could only be one thing—a body wedged between the stones, completely still.
Someone drowned…?
His breath slowed as a cold shock crept through him.
The figure was barely visible, swallowed by darkness, but the shape was unmistakably human.
For a moment, Seojun simply stared, mind racing. He had never seen a drowned body before—was it whole? Had something attacked it? A shark…? Or had the ocean already claimed pieces?
Dozens of thoughts collided, but one rose above the rest: if it really was a person…
He couldn't leave them like that. Even if they were already dead, someone might be searching. Family. Friends. People who deserved to know, to mourn, to bury them instead of leaving them alone in the cold dark ocean.
His hand closed around one of the cold metal bars of the cage. He needed to be sure.
Instinctively, he reached for the radio clipped near his shoulder.
"Uncle—"
His hand froze. The device wasn't there. The thin cable where it had been attached floated loosely beside him. It must have come loose earlier.
Seojun looked toward the distant glow of the surface, but the captain was far above, the cage suspended deep in the water.
He frowned slightly, hesitating for a slow, careful breath through his regulator. Then he looked back at the shape.
Slowly, he reached forward and unlocked the cage door. The metal creaked softly as he pushed himself out, currents wrapping around him.
The moment he left the cage, the ocean felt heavier, darker somehow. The open water pressed in from every direction.
He moved deliberately, adjusting to the sway of the current, each fin stroke controlled. His eyes flicked through the surrounding shadows, instinctively scanning for movement.
The closer he moved, the clearer the shape became.
Shoulders. A head. The outline of arms drawn close to the body.
For a brief moment, Seojun froze.
So it really was a person.
Dark hair floated around the figure's face like ink in water.
But the lower half of the body disappeared completely into shadow, wedged between the rocks, and the visible skin looked unnaturally pale—almost untouched by sunlight.
Seojun slowed, approaching carefully. The position felt wrong. The man wasn't simply lying there—he was curled in on himself, lower half swallowed by shadow.
The narrow space made it difficult to get close. Seojun steadied himself against the rough stone before reaching out.
The stranger's body trembled faintly, so slight it would have been easy to miss. Not the stillness of death. Movement. Uneven, weak.
Seojun froze. Maybe the current had shifted him. Maybe it was only water movement.
Seojun's hand hovered uncertainly over the stranger's shoulder. His fingers trembled slightly; he wasn't used to touching a body—especially one that might already be dead.
For a moment, the trembling returned, barely noticeable through the water.
Instinctively, Seojun pressed his fingers to the side of the stranger's neck. A pulse. Weak. But there.
"He's alive…"
The realization hit like electricity. His fingers stayed pressed to the fragile pulse.
Only then did he notice faint dark streaks drifting from the man's back, spreading slowly into the current.
"Oh my god… he's bleeding," Seojun murmured through his mask, voice urgent but controlled.
His eyes darted over the stranger, searching for any sign of an oxygen tank or hose. Nothing. A cold shock of guilt and panic tightened his chest. "Did I knock it loose when I moved him? Without it, he could die."
Instinctively, Seojun pressed the spare regulator—still linked to his own oxygen supply—against the stranger's lips.
At first, no sound—no breath. His heart sank. "Please… breathe," he thought, panic rising.
Then, faintly, a shaky inhale reached him. Relief coursed through him, cold blood still tingling from the scare.
"Can you hear me? Stay with me!" he called, voice firm but urgent.
The stranger flinched, head dropping, trying to twist the mask away repeatedly. Panic radiated from every movement.
Seojun frowned. Why resist so strongly, when he was clearly weak?
"Hey! I'm trying to help you!" Seojun said, steadying the regulator.
Carefully, he wrapped one arm around the young man's shoulders, pulling him free from the rocks. The body felt heavy, anchored as if refusing to move. Weak hands pushed back, resisting.
"Easy… I've got you."
As the stranger began to move freely, something changed.
In panic, he bit Seojun's hand. Pain exploded through Seojun's fingers, blood clouding the water. The stranger swallowed a trace, not realizing it, only trying desperately to push away.
"Ah—!"
The bite made Seojun's hand jerk, and he accidentally dropped the dive torch. Darkness swallowed most of the surrounding rocks, leaving only the faint glow of the cage ahead to guide him.
He instinctively pulled back, but didn't release him. Despite the bite, resistance, and regulator struggle, Seojun held firm, determined to free the stranger.
He steadied against jagged rocks, straining with each reach. The stranger's body radiated panic, flailing weakly, but Seojun's grip held.
The merman's tail shifted inside the rocks, sending a cloud of sand and particles swirling through the water. Seojun seized the moment. With all his strength, he pulled, tugged, and finally freed the stranger from the tight crevice. The body flailed briefly, limbs weakly pushing, struggling to resist, but Seojun held firm.
There was nothing he could do against Seojun's stubborn hold, and every pulse from the bite reminded him how fragile the rescue had become.
The cage loomed ahead, suspended in deep water. Seojun braced himself. Every movement measured as he closed the distance.
When they reached the cage, Seojun struggled to maneuver the guy inside, keeping the regulator in place despite frantic pushes. The guy's panic didn't ease—he twisted and slammed weakly, instinct dominating him.
Seojun gritted his teeth, using the bars for leverage. With one final effort, he dragged the stranger fully into the cage.
Then he reached for the signal line and tugged sharply.
The cable tightened above them, the cage jerking before beginning its slow ascent. The metal frame swayed, water currents shifting as they moved away from the reef.
Seojun felt the strain at once. His arms trembled, fingers throbbed, muscles burned—but he kept his grip, holding the guy firmly as the panicked stranger weakly pushed against his hold.
For a while, everything inside the cage seemed frozen with exhaustion.
Then suddenly, the stranger thrashed again.
Shoulders and arms slammed against the bars, limbs flailing chaotically. Instinct had taken over completely.
Below, the reef drifted away, fading into dark water. The deeper blue lightened as they rose, the cold pressure easing, water growing clearer… warmer.
The merman noticed.
Something solid was moving him upward—a strange, rigid shape unlike anything he had ever swum near in the shallow ocean. He didn't know what it was, only that it carried him, lifting him away from the dark depths he knew.
Sunlight filtered through above, pale streaks reaching deeper with every meter. Warmth spread slowly.
It only made him panic more.
He shoved against the bars, lunged, fought blindly, heart racing in erratic beats. The world above was wrong—bright, unfamiliar, terrifying.
Across from him, Seojun's eyes had closed briefly.
"Easy…" he murmured through the regulator. "Easy…"
His arms were giving out, muscles burning. He lifted his head and glanced upward. The surface wasn't far.
He could make it.
Slowly, carefully, Seojun removed his own mask and pressed it firmly onto the stranger's face, tightening straps so the man couldn't rip it away.
Then Seojun pushed off the cage, with one powerful kick swimming upward toward the surface.