The faint hum of the ship's engines vibrated through the walls of Naomi's cabin, but she barely noticed. Her world had narrowed to the glow of the desk lamp and the rhythmic scratch of charcoal against paper. The desk in front of her was a chaotic mess—crumpled sketches piled like fallen leaves, her hands smudged black with charcoal dust. Her breathing was shallow, her mind racing as her fingers moved almost on their own, dragging lines and curves across the page.
The spires rose again, impossibly tall and unnervingly delicate, their spirals twisting in ways that seemed to defy reason. Walls emerged, their surfaces etched with symbols she didn't understand but somehow knew, as if they had been etched into her memory rather than the page. The charcoal caught on the rough texture of the paper, adding a shadowy depth to the sketches that made them seem alive, pulsating with an otherworldly rhythm.
Naomi leaned back, her chair creaking, and stared at the latest sketch. It was identical to the others, yet every time she started over, new details emerged—things she couldn't have possibly known. Her pulse quickened as she glanced at the sonar images pinned to the corkboard above her desk. They were vague and blurry, faint outlines of a city buried beneath the sea. Her sketches, though… they were far too precise.
She pushed back her chair and stood, pacing the cramped cabin. Her heart felt heavy, a tightness constricting her chest. The dreams had started two nights ago, strange and fragmented at first, but now so vivid she woke gasping for air, her mind racing with half-formed images of twisting spires and glowing symbols.
"I'm losing it," she muttered under her breath, but the words rang hollow. She grabbed the latest sketch and stared at it, her fingers trembling. It wasn't just a dream. It couldn't be.
The knock at her door startled her, and she spun around, clutching the sketch to her chest. The sound of the ship groaning under the weight of the Arctic winds was a constant, but this knock was sharp, deliberate. She hesitated before crossing the room and pulling the door open.
It wasn't Drew or Graves, as she had half-expected. It was Evelyn.
"You okay?" Evelyn asked, her tone soft but laced with curiosity. She glanced past Naomi into the cabin, her gaze catching on the mess of sketches covering the desk and spilling onto the floor.
Naomi hesitated, then stepped aside. "Come in."
Evelyn entered, the door clicking shut behind her. She took in the scene, her sharp eyes moving from the crumpled sketches to the most recent one clutched in Naomi's hand. "You've been busy," she said, her tone neutral.
Naomi didn't answer right away. Instead, she handed Evelyn the sketch and watched her face carefully. Evelyn's brow furrowed as she studied the image, her fingers brushing the edge of the paper.
"This is…" Evelyn trailed off, her lips pressing into a thin line.
"Exactly like the sonar images," Naomi finished for her. "Yeah. I know."
Evelyn glanced up, her expression unreadable. "How?"
Naomi hesitated, then let out a shaky breath. "This is going to sound insane, but… I've seen it before. In my dreams."
Evelyn's brow furrowed deeper. "Dreams?"
"I know how it sounds." Naomi's voice was rushed, her words tumbling over each other. "But it's not just random dreams. They're… vivid. Detailed. Every time I close my eyes, I'm there. Walking through that city, seeing those spires, feeling the… the weight of it." She gestured helplessly to the cluttered desk. "I wake up, and I have to draw it. I can't stop myself."
Evelyn was silent for a long moment, her gaze flickering between Naomi and the sketch. "And you're sure you haven't seen this before? In a book, maybe, or some old photo?"
"No!" Naomi snapped, then immediately softened. "No," she repeated, her voice quieter. "I mean, maybe? But I don't think so. It's not just something I've seen—it's like I know it."
Before Evelyn could respond, the door to the cabin swung open abruptly, and Drew stepped in. His eyes immediately locked onto the sketch in Evelyn's hand. "I knew it," he said, his voice low and accusing. "You've been marked."
Naomi blinked. "Excuse me?"
"It's in you now, too," Drew said, stepping closer. "The city. It's calling to you, just like it's calling to all of us. That's how it starts."
Naomi backed up a step, her hands clenching into fists. "It's just a coincidence," she said, her voice shaking. "Or—or maybe I saw something similar in a book. It doesn't mean anything."
Drew laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You don't believe that any more than I do. You've felt it. The pull. The whispers. You can't ignore it, can you?"
"Enough, Drew," Evelyn said sharply, stepping between him and Naomi. "We don't have time for your paranoia."
"It's not paranoia," Drew shot back. "You've heard it, too. The whispers. The city isn't just sitting down there waiting to be studied. It's alive. And it's in her now."
"Get out," Evelyn snapped, her voice low and dangerous.
Drew hesitated, his eyes narrowing, but then he turned and stormed out, muttering under his breath.
Naomi let out a shaky breath and sank into her chair. "What the hell is wrong with him?"
Evelyn didn't answer right away. She set the sketch down on the desk and crossed her arms, her gaze distant. "He's scared," she said finally. "And he's not the only one."
Naomi looked up at her, her eyes wide. "You don't think he's right, do you? About the city being… alive?"
Evelyn hesitated, her fingers brushing the edge of her father's journal, which she had tucked under her arm. "I don't know," she admitted. "But I do know this: whatever's down there, it's not just stone and ruins. There's something… different about it."
Naomi shivered. "You're not exactly making me feel better, you know."
Evelyn managed a faint smile. "Sorry." She picked up one of the crumpled sketches from the floor and smoothed it out, her eyes scanning the details. "These are incredible, Naomi. But if Drew's right—if the city really is affecting you—you need to tell me. You can't keep this to yourself."
Naomi nodded reluctantly. "I will. I promise."
Evelyn gave her a long look, then nodded. "Get some rest. We've got a lot of work ahead of us."
She left the cabin, the door clicking shut behind her. Naomi stared at the sketches scattered across the desk, her chest tightening with a mix of fear and fascination.
Evelyn made her way back to the control room, her mind racing. She couldn't shake the feeling that Naomi's visions weren't just dreams. They were connected to the city, to the whispers, to whatever her father had been searching for.
She spread the sketches out on the table and stared at them, her fingers tracing the twisting spires and impossible geometry.
"It's not just the city calling," she murmured to herself. "It's us. All of us."