The helicopter descended slowly, hovering about fifty meters above the churning sea.
"Lower!" Tony Stark barked.
"I can't!" the pilot yelled back, his expression suggesting he was already mentally preparing his resignation letter. "Any lower and the ground effect over the water will destabilize the rotors. We'll crash!"
Happy Hogan didn't wait. He kicked out the retractable emergency ladder from the cabin door.
*Clack! Clack! Clack!*
The sections unfolded under the force of gravity, the final rung thumping steadily against the edge of the orange life raft. It was a perfect fit.
"Pepper!" Tony stood at the edge of the open door, his voice strained as he looked down. "Get up here, now!"
Pepper looked up at the man framed by the helicopter's floodlights and managed a small, weary smile. To the world, Tony was arrogant and volatile, but she knew that was just the armor he wore.
"Let Connor go first!" Pepper shouted back, looking at the only child in the raft.
No one argued. Locke stood up, hoisted the boy into the air with both hands, and helped him grab onto the ladder.
The pilot struggled with the controls, sweat beading on his forehead as he watched the fuel gauge drop with terrifying speed. "Hurry! We're burning through the reserves!"
One by one, they climbed: Maggie, Pepper, Jennifer, Cindy, Gwen, Kristen, Kahn, and Robert.
Finally, it was just Dylan and Locke.
"You first," Dylan said, gesturing to the ladder. "I'll be the last one."
Locke grabbed Dylan by the shoulder and pulled him toward the ladder. "Have you forgotten what happened in the woods when I let you take the rear? You're going up now. This time, I won't be able to wrestle you out of a shark's mouth."
Grim memories flashed through both their minds. Back in Texas, during the cannibal incident, Dylan had tried to be the "soldier" and cover Locke's escape. Locke had doubled back to find Dylan nearly turned into "human sashimi" in a cave. He had saved him then, and he wasn't taking chances now.
Dylan didn't argue further. He scrambled up the rope ladder, pulling himself into the now-crowded cabin.
The helicopter was blaring an overload warning. It was a large bird, but it was designed for ten people at most. With thirteen people already inside, it was straining. If Locke climbed up, they'd be fourteen. Plus, the fuel was critical.
"Quick!" Dylan shouted, leaning out to look down. Suddenly, his eyes widened. "Look out!"
[Sixth Sense Triggered!]
Locke spun around.
*ROAR!*
A massive shark breached the surface of the water, its jagged teeth glistening in the artificial light. With a violent lunge, the beast slammed its weight into the life raft.
The raft flipped instantly. Locke vanished into the dark water.
"LOCKE!"
"OH MY GOD!"
"LOCKE!"
Gwen gripped the edge of the cabin, her eyes filling with tears as she stared at the overturned raft and the suddenly silent, dark water. A bloom of dark red began to drift to the surface.
Blood.
The hearts of everyone in the cabin skipped a beat. Gwen's vision blurred. "Locke..." Memories of their time together flashed through her mind like a final reel. "LOCKE!!"
Suddenly, a dark shadow rose from beneath the waves.
The overturned raft shuddered. Locke's hands gripped the rubber siding as he hauled himself up, his chest heaving with exertion.
"HOLY SHIT!"
"Thank God!"
"You beautiful bastard!"
Dylan punched the air, a wild grin on his face. "I knew it! I knew you wouldn't die that easily!" If a pack of cannibals couldn't kill a fourteen-year-old Locke, a lone shark didn't stand a chance.
Gwen collapsed into sobs of relief. Cindy and Pepper immediately pulled her into a huddle to comfort her.
Tony and Happy were squeezed into the corner. They looked on, perhaps not fully grasping the bond forged between these people over the last few hours.
On the raft, Locke steadied his breathing as the combat state faded.
'Dammit!' he thought. The mission already started? "Malice from the Ocean"? I wasn't even looking for you, and you send a hitman to my door?
'Just you wait until I find where your "Eye of the Sea" is. I'll rip it out and flush you down the drain.'
Locke stood up on the bobbing raft, a small, obsidian-black dagger clenched between his teeth. He looked at the shark carcass floating nearby, then dove back into the sea.
"What the fuck...?"
"What is he doing?!"
Underwater, Locke reached the dead shark. With a swift, practiced motion, he sliced off the fins and a massive slab of meat. He surfaced, biting the dagger again, and grabbed the ladder with one hand, holding the shark meat in the other.
*Thut-thut-thut!*
The pilot didn't wait. As soon as Locke was clear of the water, he began banking the helicopter, heading back toward the Argo.
Ten seconds later, Locke threw the shark fins and meat onto the cabin floor and climbed in with Dylan's help. He folded his dagger and slipped it into a hidden compartment in his belt.
He looked at Dylan. "Find a kitchen. We're having shark fin soup and sashimi to calm our nerves."
Dylan, closing the cabin door, was beyond words.
"Locke!" Gwen threw herself at him, her emotions overflowing. "Thank God! Thank God!"
Locke smiled brightly, hugging her tight. "My Goddess of Luck is right here. How could anything happen to me?"
On land, he could have pulled off a sliding tackle to disembowel that shark. In the water, it took a bit more effort. He stayed there for a moment, stroking Gwen's hair. "Sorry for worrying you."
The cabin was silent for a moment, everyone sharing a collective sigh of relief. If they had all survived only for Locke to die at the very end, the guilt would have been unbearable. Without him, none of them would be breathing right now.
Pepper, soaked and shivering, looked at her boss. "I want a raise."
Tony's face was unreadable. "Fine."
"And a vacation."
"...Alright," Tony agreed after a brief hesitation. "Wherever you want to go, I'll go with you."
Pepper just stared at him, exhausted.
Locke sat up from the floor and looked at Dylan. "So, where's the cavalry?"
Dylan shook his head. "Radio's dead. Signals are lost."
Happy Hogan looked around, bewildered. "God, what happened? Where is the Poseidon?"
Robert Ramsey tapped Happy on the shoulder and pointed out the window. "Look out there."
"Look at what?"
"You see the ocean?"
"Yeah."
"The ship is in it. All of it."
"..."
Tony turned to Robert, his brow furrowed. Robert's voice was heavy. "We might be the only ones who made it out."
If Locke hadn't known the maps. If Locke hadn't "found" those respirators. They wouldn't have made it.
"When I left the Poseidon," Tony said grimly, "there were no reports of tsunami activity."
"It was a rogue wave," Robert said. "The kind the Navy saw in WWII. No warning, just a wall of water. We thought they were myths until tonight."
Happy realized the sheer scale of the loss—thousands of people—and let out a slow, horrified breath.
Locke checked the distance. They had flown nearly fifty nautical miles. "Still no signal?"
Happy checked the tablet. "Still searching for a satellite handshake. We probably won't get through until we land on the Argo."
Locke nodded. It was almost 5:00 AM. A sliver of light was appearing on the horizon.
Ten minutes later, the Argo appeared below them. The pilot began his descent.
"That's weird," the pilot muttered, looking at the empty deck. "Where's the deck crew? No guidance lights?"
He was a pro, though—Stark didn't hire hacks. He brought the bird down smoothly on the helipad.
The engines wound down. The door slid open.
Locke stepped out, and his Sixth Sense screamed a warning.
***
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