Notes from the author 08/9/2026: I did a few edits to try to make the story less choppy, like not say “as” as much and added more “The Australian” I wrote this using my phone on notes so it’s like ok, but still needs work. If you read something and it has errors in grammar or spelling let me know on the website email and I’ll fix it. 

Cathedral-

-Cathedral-

By Satoshi Nakamoto

Land of the lost YouTubers - Prehistoric evolutionary Development.

Off the coast of Fiji, there is a small “U”-shaped island with a cavernous system that can be accessed by an underwater chimney. The ancient lava tunnel leads directly underneath the southern Pacific Ocean, opening up to a real-life land before time.

Video footage summary:

In 2019, two friends filming for an online video documentary channel found the island with the cave and began exploring a vast system. After seeing how extensive the underground cave was, the two men decided to come back with cameras and spelunking gear to document their adventure so they could post it online. Forced to postpone the expedition during COVID lockdowns, it wasn’t until 2 years ago that the group, now four friends, was able to return. Once relocating the island, they waited till low tide, then entered the enclosed chimney chamber into an air pocket. The pool, with a waterline that sits nearly as high as the cave’s entrance, opens into an air pocket that is separated by a basalt and limestone wall. The wall connects to a secondary pool that allows water from small openings to enter from below. To reach the entrance to the tunnel system requires scaling a barrier wall between the first pool and the second pool. The men swam through the chamber’s opening, then inflated a raft before entering into the limestone depression. The second pool has become filled with a majority of sand and reef sharks that have been trapped throughout time. The wall prevents large sharks from entering, but small holes within the wall below allow fish to enter and exit. The men made their way to a rock platform that marked the entrance into the main basalt tunnel system. A pile of rocks stacked on top of each other, three high, next to the entrance marked a signal that the cave had already been discovered at least once before. A tent and camping gear had been left abandoned by unknown individuals. As the group’s documentation process continued, they began descending further into the cave. The men, fully equipped for an extended expedition, were able to move easily through the darkness, passing by old cans and other human debris without investigating. The items didn’t make a strong impression about those who had been there before, but rather gave them the notion that this tunnel system must be a lesser-known destination spot. Without knowing exactly where the tunnels led, the men continued forward. The deeper they went, the more they noticed the airflow was traveling toward the cave’s opening from deeper within the tunnel. A strange phenomenon for a cave system blocked by an underwater barrier. The air, still breathable, was moving past them. After traveling nearly 20 miles from where they began their journey, they had just traveled through an air-filled tunnel deep below the Pacific Ocean. Plant life that has never been observed by science began appearing. While filming, the group was able to document their observations. The cave began glowing with bright phosphorescent, photoluminescent, and bioluminescent moss, algae, and fungi. Following the airflow moving outward toward the opening of the cave, they traveled deeper, searching for a second opening. Confused about the directional path of airflow, they couldn’t figure out how or why air was moving outward. The only plausible explanation was that they must be underneath the ocean, with the source being a secondary island with a connecting tunnel between two openings. Without cellular reception or internet access, the four men were forced to rely upon topography maps for plotting their possible exit point. After studying the maps and cross-referencing their GPS locations, they realized that there were no islands within close proximity to their geographical locations. They were, in fact, below deep water in an air-filled cave under the ocean. Still anxious to find out the source of the atmospheric phenomenon, they made a camp, rested for several hours, then continued on. Eventually, reaching a large conduit caldera with a high ceiling, giant natural basalt steps had been formed by volcanic and tectonic activity. The steps eventually led to a sheer wall with a small cavity into a cavern filled with neon-colored eukaryote life. A few miles forward, they reached a sheer cliff with two rappel lines and a rope secured by a rock. Proof that they were not the only people to reach this point in the cave. After scaling a sheer wall, they began to realize that there was evidence of living creatures inside. They began finding bones of what looked like large birds and lizards. Thinking that they were fossils at first, they examined them closer. Realizing they were not fossilized, the men began questioning their origins as possible trapped birds or crocodiles. They began searching the floor and noticed that there was scat on the ground, eggshells, and other skeletons of creatures they’d never seen before. As they examined their surroundings, they noticed articles of clothing that appeared torn. Behind a rock, a body in modern clothing was found. A woman in climbing gear and hiking boots. They began to hypothesize the cause of death. The two men questioned whether or not she had fallen from the sheer wall, until they noticed bite marks and rips in the jacket. One of the men began to panic and urged the rest of the group to turn back. They began to hear the echoing of small rocks being shuffled in nearby chambers, as if something was moving close to them. As the video progressed, two of the men had moved forward around the corner of the tunnel, notifying the other two that there was light coming from a nearby tunnel. They walked around the corner to regroup and saw their friends fighting off what could only be described as a dinosaur. A small raptor-like creature, with three fingers and three toes, was caught on camera for the first time in history. As the friends rushed to help, the camera rolled to the right, revealing an underground canyon with vegetation and flowing water. The video ends with two of the men seen being surrounded by a pack of raptor-like creatures. One man running forward out of the entrance of the cave, while the one holding the camera pointed it back at the entrance, revealing more raptors emerging from the cave. The man holding the camera begins to run into a stream, then into dense ferns. After running into vegetation, the camera drops and remains in the same spot for four hours, inadvertently capturing a previously thought-extinct herbivore. A subspecies of the Ceratopsidae family, grazing on ferns. The footage was the first documented proof of life inside an underground cathedral-like canyon beneath the Pacific Ocean.

Rescue and recovery:

2025- A drone sent into the cave system has located the four men. All separated from each other, believing that they were lone survivors. Each one adopted into tribes of intelligent beings. A multipurpose rescue drone was able to recover the camera, relaying the footage to be documented formally.

• Merfolk - Reptilian - Amazon - Citadel - Short dicks - Neanderthal - Jelly-whisp - Raven - Sweethearts - Overlord- Isabelline

The first confirmed contact of intelligent humanoid/highly evolved species on Earth. Found in a series of underground caldera cathedrals that have collapsed as the tectonic plates shift. The canyon, with sheer walls nearly two miles high, 40 miles side to side, and 1,000 miles long, with a CNT-quartz crystal ceiling able to produce UV light from underneath the ocean.

YouTuber #1 - Merfolk

The first person found living had been adopted into what he calls “Merfolk.” After being separated from his group, he was approached/ambushed three days later by a tribe of highly evolved mollusks closely related to oysters. They brought him back to a settlement against the south wall closest to the cave’s exit. The village is secured against an overhanging cliff, with an underground river passing through lower elevation. A brachiosaurus that they stick themselves onto is used to travel and forage.

Males and females appear visibly different from each other, but share similarities in height and weight.

Males - stand around 9-12 feet tall and around 400-600 pounds. They have a thin, shell-like body with a reflective shell plate on their forearm that is used to attract mates. The face/head is similar to a mantis shrimp with a ponytail. Males appear relatively similar to each other without much difference visually. They give very emotional responses to everything, show empathy, and understand complex social practices.

Female - 8-9 feet tall, about 300 pounds. Each is born with a distinctive shell formation on their head resembling hair. The teeth are mildly reflective like the inside of an abalone shell. Pink coloration can be seen on cheeks, lips, and eyes, resembling makeup. Each female has a very unique look compared to others. Shell formations on the head, resembling hairstyles, vary in shape due to genetic variability. Human-like appearances with two eyes, a nose, and teeth, but no fingers or toes, just arms that form suction on surfaces and leg-like tongues. Also very expressive of current state emotions. Attracted to males with large, shiny forearm shell plates. Each male and female has a pearl sack as a biological immune system.

From YouTuber #1’s account living with the tribe, they are a peaceful group that literally feed off each other, highly spiritual and sentimental, practicing advanced social structure and ritualistic culture for tribal members. They each have a giant clam-like bed that marks their homestead. The social structure revolves around peaceful community life and survival from megafauna and lesser-evolved humanoid beings. They move around by sliding across the ground with their tongue legs in an upright posture, and do multiple front flips off high areas, landing on the ground on their belly without injury. Their mucus-covered body allows them to jump and then stick to different types of surfaces. He said that he’s never been in such a peaceful state of social life within this tribe. They saved him and treated him as if he was one of their own. He has been able to share survival strategies against the short-dicks and share human knowledge with the tribe.

Short-Dicks “Bobs”

Lesser-evolved cavemen-like humanoid mammals that found their way into the cave system thousands of years ago. Once making it to the cave’s drop-off wall, they fell off until enough were able to break the others’ fall.

Height 4-5 ft, weight 180-350 pounds.

Semi-intelligent, with primitive man-like features. Able to build shelters and hunt, but incapable of advanced states of rational, coherent reasoning. Spend the majority of their time hunting game and spying on other tribes with the intent of capturing, imprisoning, or eating them. As described from YouTuber #1, they’re like a character named Bob from a claymation animation called Prometheus and Bob. Extremely gullible and fall into every trap they set for them. The women resemble the men in physical appearance and share communal duties. Both have broadly shaped shoulders and short, husky builds. Called short-dicks for the males’ extremely small genitals that remain uncovered the majority of the time. Most wear vest-like covers made from animals or things they find that will stay on them while walking (e.g., bird nest hats, dinosaur hides, foliage, etc.). Carry rocks and sticks, but don’t use complex thought processes. Primitive adaptational qualities that center around hunting and gathering. A hierarchy is formed amongst the males by comparing anatomical attributes. The male with the largest chest and smallest penis is the alpha male.

When hunting, they wait far away from the villages or prey, poking their heads up over objects, waiting for a chance to get closer. Once an opportunity presents itself, they overpower their prey with objects, then drag it back to the community.

YouTuber #2 - Amazon

After YouTuber #1 was found, exploratory drones were sent out over the landscape searching for other life forms. A settlement with a large wall was found against one side of the canyon. Inside, YouTuber #2 was found living amongst a large group of female-appearing hermaphrodites, which he called “Amazon.” Found after approaching the wall and captured by the tribe, who thought he was a short-dick. After showing a picture of his family, they brought him inside the walls and eventually let him out of the cage he was kept in. Once he proved to be peaceful, YouTuber #2 was allowed to live in exile on the outer perimeter with two partially exiled tribe members. Living as a lookout wall protector, YouTuber #2’s presence had become tolerated, but not fully accepted.

Amazon - Height from 10-16 ft tall, 400-1,200 pounds. Appear female, with gonads allowing them to reproduce and remain nearly always pregnant. Body appears human, with a larger-scale female frame and small evolutionary differences, most noticeably the hands only having one thumb and no other fingers.

YouTuber #2 - After being separated from the group, YouTuber #2 made a straight line into the canyon. Walking forward, searching for his friends, then made a southeastern path, eventually walking into a large wooden structure against a pitch curve along the southern wall. He describes the Amazon social structure as a hierarchy of the one to make the loudest sound come out of them. A complex social system that revolves around an alpha female. Shelter and tool-making skills are a part of the tribal culture. The wall was constructed to protect the tribe from predators. Built over thousands of years, it acts as a border for the territory that is pressed against the caldera’s wall. YouTuber #2 spoke of life as an outsider after being taken in by two of the Amazon women who defended him against persecution from the alpha female. He has been living in a house outside the main village with the two Amazons that found him. When traveling outside the gate, he rides on their shoulders to set traps for the short-dicks. By using holes in the ground with leaves covering the surface and meat on a stick, he was able to show the Amazon trapping techniques to create a defensive barrier. Provided guidance on tool building and medical treatment, showing the tribe how to build shovels and other equipment to help make life easier. Still regarded as an outsider, he is forced to live away from the main community. Once found, he was given a phone to communicate with YouTuber #1, letting him know that he was still alive. He became aware of other humanoid species after being allowed to travel to a trade center with a nearby communal clan of Neanderthal-like beings. Description of the clan was both male and female genetic traits. Five fingers and one big toe. It seems as though the majority of the primate-species humanoid beings traveled the same path as the four friends. Understanding the danger, they made settlements in various locations relatively close to the cave’s exit point.

YouTuber #3 - Reptilian

Reptilian - Highly intelligent reptilians who have evolved to understand complex emotional and social dynamics.

Height - 4-5 feet, weight - 100-120 lb.

Social and communal, with the ability to build structures and agricultural systems. Highly skilled craftsmen, engineers, and architects. Excel in their environment, living in a fully developed city with walls of stacked stones, streets, and governance. Structured legal systems that involve court proceedings and imprisonment, with the maximum penalty being death by engorgement.

YouTuber #3, wounded after being able to escape from the raptors, wandered toward the north wall away from YouTuber #1 and #2. For two and a half weeks, he made his way through the prehistoric landscape, utilizing his camping equipment to survive and a camera to record his journey. He encountered and documented a modern-day descendant of tyrannosaurus. The creature behaved in an unusual manner. Instead of chasing him down, it froze when he made eye contact. The creature didn’t move forward, but remained perfectly still while he euthanized it. #3 documented large insects, herbivorous animals, carnivorous animals, and a short-dick. After waking up to a short-dick attempting to steal his supplies, he began trying to communicate with it. The short-dick wanted his sunglasses and began approaching him menacingly. Trying reasoning with primitive man, the effort was not received. The short-dick, resorting to basic instinct, attempted to hit Youtuber#3 with a rock. #3 in self-defense hit the short-dick in the face, dropping the primal man-like entity to the ground with a confused look. The short-dick grabbed what he could and ran, taking the sunglasses with him.

On the brink of death and exhaustion, YouTuber #3 walked into an agricultural settlement. Thinking he had found signs of human life underground, he followed a road to a farmhouse. After knocking on the door, #3 was shocked when an iguana-like creature standing on its hind legs, fully dressed in traditional colonial attire, opened the door. The reptilian farmer immediately hissed in fear and began ringing a bell. The reptilian, closely resembled a raptor mixed with an iguana, with less primitive attributes. #3 began to run away, unsure whether the reptilian species were peaceful or hostile. The bell ring was answered by a responding bell in the distance, then followed by a chain reaction of more bells ringing in the distance. Within only a few minutes, a series of armored reptiles appeared riding small triceratops began chasing YouTuber #3. Eventually, circling around him, they threw a net on YouTuber #3 and dragged him back to the city.

Once inside the city, he was taken to a room to be executed. Seeing the short-dick who had stolen his sunglasses dismembered, he began pleading with the guards, showing them pictures and items that he possessed. Intrigued with what they were seeing, the reptilians ushered YouTuber #3 into a holding cell where he awaited his fate. Around an hour later, YouTuber #3 was brought in front of a formal council of elites who resembled reptilian ministers. He began pleading his case by showing video footage of his journey and pictures of the surface level of Earth. Amazed, they reached a conclusion that he was not a threat, but rather someone of importance. Two weeks later, after remaining imprisoned, the council granted him the right to live amongst them. For nearly a year, YouTuber #3 guided the council on innovative ideas to better their lives and city ordinances.

The city, mainly built from rocks stacked on top of each other, with an adhesive made from droppings mixed with dirt pressed to form walls. Unable to use opposable thumbs, the infrastructure had been built up throughout the centuries, resembling giant nests. #3 became an important part of an advisory committee focused on building up the city. Providing ideas for running water systems and agricultural practices, he became an asset to the community. He even had members of the reptilian community build a windmill and water mill. Unfortunately, the windmill burned down after a reptilian walked into it with a lit torch attached to his claws. As described, the reptilian were mesmerized by the flames, putting their claws in the air, making a hissing “Ahhh” sound over and over again. Once everyone realized that the reptilian with the torch had died, they began to look at YouTuber #3 like they were going to eat him again. Bells and other fixtures were traded items from nearby civilizations. While remaining in the city, #3 was able to see other species of humanoid beings brought into the city. One looked similar to an albino woman, deaf, with webbed hands and feet but no definitive fingers or toes.

Although emotionally complex and intellectual, the reptilian culture, psychology, and anatomy are very different than human. YouTuber #3 reported that each time something went wrong during construction projects, they would turn and look at him hissing as though they would eat him. After showing the reptilian chancellor a picture of his dog on his phone, he immediately began salivating and ate his phone. Being somewhat of a hero for the ability to accomplish practical engineering tasks, YouTuber #3 was brought into the head chancellor’s home as a guest. His time was spent working on projects for the community. Taking time to understand the reptilian’s individual characteristics, friendships were formed among citizens.    Everything was fine until the chancellor walked in on YouTuber #3 massaging his daughter’s endolymphatic calcium glands on the side of her neck. Like the round things on iguana necks. Being a former caretaker of a pet Iguana, YouTuber #3 knew these glands to reduce stress when rubbed, but not the context within reptilian culture. Immediately, the chancellor hissed in shock, summoning the guards to have him imprisoned. At YouTuber #3’s court proceeding, he was sentenced to death by engorgement. Without understanding what they had said, one reptilian bit his arm. Immediately, he began trying to fight the reptiles off him. Due to an adaptational characteristic, #3 learned that whenever he pointed in a certain direction, all the reptilians would look where he was pointing. By pointing toward the wall, YouTuber #3 got the reptilian council to turn as the chancellor’s daughter rescued him. The two fugitives escaped the city together, seeking refuge in a nearby cave. After days of hiding, a living space built inside the small cave was sealed-off at the entrance. Living in exile until the time the rescue drone arrived, YouTuber #3 was notified that two other party members had already been found alive. His backpack had remained hidden near the place of #3’s capture. After locating the bags hidden in a patch of vegetation, he was given a power bank to charge his electronics, allowing him to relay the video content to the surface.

YouTuber #4 - Citadel

Video summary: First-hand account

After being separated, #4 began moving in a straight line directly down the center of the underground canyon. For two weeks, he walked through a series of tree and fern forests as he began moving toward a cliff formation. Encountering a wide range of wildlife, from large carnivores to peaceful herbivores. Using a chest-mounted camera, #4 documented in video how a tyrannosaurus used camouflage like a chameleon while against a vegetation backdrop. The tyrannosaurus subspecies used its tail to tap YouTuber #4’s shoulder, getting him to look the opposite direction while it lunged forward in attack. When YouTuber #4 looked back at the dinosaur running at him, it immediately froze in place. Terrified that the dinosaur was going to finish him right there, he kept eye contact. The tyrannosaurus remained frozen in place, shifting colors, then began slowly moving backward without breaking eye contact, continuously trying to tap him on the shoulder with its tail. #4 started walking backward in the opposite direction when a second tap came from his other side. Looking around as a second tyrannosaurus jumped out, YouTuber #4 turned to focus on the other one. The modern-day T-rex behaved the exact same way, froze, then moved backward. As YouTuber #4 did this, the first tyrannosaurus made a second attempt at an attack. YouTuber #4 looked at it and it froze as the other one made an attempt. A stop-and-go pattern began as YouTuber #4 started looking back and forth at the two T-rexes. Then two more joined in. As though YouTuber #4 was juggling T-rexes in a red-light, green-light game, he began trying to line them up so he could keep all of them inside his line of sight. This continued for nearly a mile before reaching a cliff’s edge as YouTuber #4 began climbing down the side. The dinosaurs remained fixated on YouTuber #4 as he climbed downward, putting their tails over the edge, trying to tap his shoulder.

Once reaching the cliff base, the tyrannosauruses still remained fixated on YouTuber #4 from above. As #4 turned away, one T-rex rushed forward off the cliff, falling to its death. YouTuber #4 began running without stopping, hearing the sounds of the others falling down, then hitting the ground behind him. As #4 ran away through a thicket of thin trees, a clearing came into view with a pale blond woman holding a basket filled with flowers. YouTuber #4 ran to her, trying to let her know about the situation with dinosaurs. Shocked and surprised, the pale entity became startled, reaching for a sharp blade, holding it with an oddly formed hand. Unable to communicate directly, #4 realized she’s not like anything he’s ever seen before. YouTuber #4 tried to express that his intentions were peaceful by making a PLUR heart with his hands. This is where the video ends.

Beginning to show her items and pictures of the surface of Earth, pointing upwards. Starting to understand YouTuber #4, he stops to show the woman video footage of the encounter that had just occurred with the dinosaurs. Showing the humanoid woman a phone screen with the video of the tyrannosaurus, #4’s description was that it immediately frightened her seeing the images, and she tried to attack the phone until he was able to turn it off. Without ever seeing a phone screen before, to the woman it was as if YouTuber #4 had trapped the dinosaurs inside his phone. The woman hugged him, seeing YouTuber #4 not as a threat, but more as someone who could trap dinosaurs within this rectangle. The woman then brought YouTuber #4 back to a temple that he describes as being a citadel of only pale blond women. YouTuber #4 was found by a rescue drone living in a pyramid structure as a doctor-like figure among the community. Being able to use five-digit fingers to perform simple medical treatments, YouTuber #4 had become an irreplaceable member of the civilization. All four men have been notified of each other’s survival status, and families have been informed of their whereabouts.

Citadel - Height 4-5 feet, 90-110 lb.

Appears as blond albino women with self-reproduction anatomy and a shorter-than-human lifespan. A two-pregnancy-cycle lifespan dictates the length of life. Similar humanoid features except the hands and ears. A thumb and mitten-shaped finger with minimal digit dexterity. The ears are not fully formed, leaving the beings mostly deaf. Large bells are used as vibrational cues amongst the community. As a whole, civilizational and agricultural skills are practiced regularly. Highly intelligent and spiritual, the women worship a crystal skylight at the top of the underground cathedral caldera canyon. Temple builders similar to Mayan or Aztec architecture. Peaceful and friendly to accepted visitors, protective of others and territory.

The Explorer - Sweethearts

After locating the four missing YouTubers, reconnaissance drones were sent outward to search for more signs of life. After 200 hundred miles further into the underground cathedral canyon, AI scanners picked up human activity. The fifth person to be found, a lone adventurer who had been trapped inside since the later 1980s. An explorer who had recently divorced his wife and set out for the Fijian islands for a maritime journey across the Pacific to the Hawaiian Islands with a new girlfriend. The Explorer bought a boat in Fiji and began working his way across the outer coast en route to Hawaii with his new girlfriend. Only two days after setting out on his voyage, he found the “U”-shaped island as a stopping point. Before losing radio contact, an emergency radio call was issued about a developing storm warning. The two used the island as a harbor for an approaching typhoon. Believing the island would provide shelter from the storm, The Explorer anchored his vessel directly in the center of the lagoon. Using the deepest water possible to prevent the coral reefs from penetrating the ship’s hull during the storm, The Explorer and his girlfriend spent the rest of the day preparing for turbulent weather conditions. Both enjoyed a lazy afternoon, catching fish with a spear. While watching the sunset, the two ate dinner, then went to sleep after battening down the hatches.

Around 3 a.m. the next morning, The Explorer woke to the sound of wind, rain, and storm surge. With a jolt of the anchor line being pulled tight, a routine observation was initiated in darkness. As The Explorer inspected the boat’s orientation, whitewater breakers rolling into the lagoon from the opening swept across the bow. Feeling the boat lift and begin moving backward with the breakwater, the anchor released from the coral floor, then pulled tight as the swell receded. The unexpected rise in the water’s height and the depth of the lagoon was causing the anchor to lift off the ocean floor, repeatedly forcing the boat to shift violently forward as the anchor pulled over new ground. With conditions worsening by the second, the boat began to travel further inside the inner curve of the “U”-shaped lagoon. Unable to avoid waves breaking into peaks as they reached the shallow coral reef bed, the tension of the anchor line increased as the boat released. Freeing itself from the anchor completely, the boat sat idle as The Explorer ducked below deck. Inside the cabin, The Explorer lost footing as the ship began to catch break forces of the storm surge. The new love-struck couple were now surfing backward. Waking to turbulence, The Explorer’s companion stayed below deck injured while he rushed to right the ship.

Beginning to turn as the rudder swung the bow forward, The Explorer attempted to steer the boat, catching an incoming break sideways, and capsized. Vast weight turned over in the night, sending The Explorer overboard. The ship was now spinning towards the inner ring of the island. Bouncing over high reef colonies, he felt sharp edges cut deep as The Explorer felt his way toward shore. Drowning alone in the Pacific, The Explorer desperately swam for the boat, knowing the fate of his new companion remained undetermined.

Through the storm’s flashes of lightning, The Explorer was able to see rock formations beneath the waves. Pushing through whitewater for something to hold onto, The Explorer dipped below the surf. Sounds of chaos muted, transforming into hollow clicks below a dramatic surface. Floating under crystal-clear water with eyes open, flashes of white cast light over the mouth of a rocky coral outcrop shaped like a chimney. Using the strobing clear lens as a guide, coral reef formations were the only solid source to counter the ripping undertow. Diving under as drastic changes in water levels lifted above the reef, The Explorer held on as his body moved with the current. As a last-ditch effort, The Explorer’s only chance of survival was to make an attempt to reach the boat. The clear water lit up the reef as the sky flashed white. Caught in the currents, The Explorer began to float in the direction the boat had moved. Approaching the chimney formation, The Explorer held the reef tight as a passing swell spun underwater around him. Water flowing through the cave beneath pulled down, dragging The Explorer with it. A power never felt before grabbed hold of every part of The Explorer. Feeling water move faster, The Explorer’s body bent, folding against solid walls on every side. With nothing else to do except move with the vortex of water, The Explorer broke through a black surface. Able to breathe, but unable to see, light cut in from below, hitting the ceiling above. Water held calm, then plunged, leaving The Explorer clinging on as the surface dropped past his legs, then lifted to his chin. Treading water, waiting for the vortex to drop, The Explorer’s arms reached over a solid stone lip. A small sanctuary in the midst of chaos, suspended, partially submerged at the top of an air pocket, The Explorer held on to the wall. Unable to escape through the vacuum’s pull inside the chimney, The Explorer climbed over the barrier, dropping back into water on the opposite side. With each flash of lightning, moving silhouettes filled the pool. Without a choice, The Explorer crossed the tide pool depression. A hit from below snapped into a sensation of pressure. Feeling a shake, then release, pressure gave way to pain. Bitten on his leg by what could only be assumed as a small shark, The Explorer floated, feeling his wound. Making an effort to stay calm, The Explorer felt the pressure again on his hand. Struggling against the inner wall of a dark shoreline, The Explorer pushed himself onto a solid platform.

Emerging from the water in darkness, feeling blindly for space between himself and any other walls, The Explorer made his way to the edge of the pool. Flashes of lightning reflecting in the water created a strobing effect, illuminating the walls, casting silhouettes of tropical fish and sharks swimming in the pool below. The Explorer wrapped a torn shirt over his wounds, fighting to remain conscious, realizing that this may be his last night on Earth. Grief-stricken by rapid calamity, The Explorer closed his eyes and waited out the storm.

Severely injured during the storm, The Explorer, now alone, remained inside the cave until the storm passed. Overcome by realization of the severity of fate, The Explorer broke down into tears. With light only entering through refraction inside the pools below, The Explorer remained in sight of a faint glow at the end of the chamber. Only able to identify a larger opening along the enclosed sea cave wall by touch, The Explorer crawled inside. Near pitch-black inside the volcanic tube, the open space was used only as a restroom. It was two days later that the turbulent storm pumping subsided.

Sunlight could be seen glowing through the water at dawn of the third day. Crossing over a glowing turquoise pool, The Explorer made his break to locate his vessel. Diving underneath the submerged entrance, The Explorer pulled on the chimney’s rocky outcrop to the surface. Making his way onto a sandy beach, The Explorer’s sailboat lay tipped on its side, marooned on the “U”-shaped island’s innermost shore. A swift realization of becoming stranded alone on a desolate island began to take form. A body lying motionless on the beach confirmed The Explorer’s worst fears. His partner, forced onto the beach by storm surge, had suffered a head injury, then was cast off the boat as it was taken by the water. Remorse of the trip’s proposal weighed heavily upon The Explorer’s mind. A single palm tree facing out toward the Pacific, with a pile of corals and lava rocks, marked the grave. The Explorer was now alone.

For nearly a year, The Explorer stayed isolated on the island with nothing except his boat and travel supplies. While waiting for help, nothing could be done except utilize the island for resources while using the boat as a shelter. Life stranded on a desert volcanic island in the middle of the Pacific became a constant reality. As time passed, food rations and clean water began running low. Although fish were plentiful, without a secure water source the island became increasingly inhospitable. While searching the island, The Explorer noticed small amounts of water separation near the rocky outcrop of the shoreline, indicating freshwater deposits. Somewhere under the island, a freshwater spring had formed.

As weeks turned to months, The Explorer began utilizing the cave as a refuge from storms and extreme elements. Being that the pool entrance was always filled with sharks and the cave itself was most accessible at low tide, frequent trips were left to a minimum. The lagoon was becoming less inhabitable the more time passed. Fresh water became the main obstacle. The Explorer, forced to act, decided a venture into the cave was the only possible solution.

The first descent was guided by torchlight, with a battery-powered flashlight as a backup. Moving through a long volcanic corridor, the cave extended further than previously imagined. Noticing signs of human presence, small scratches on the wall were used to represent days. Clear evidence now that The Explorer was not the first person who had been stranded. It looked as though whoever came before had made the same mistake he had. Abandoned nautical equipment sat as a forewarning reminder of a survivalist waiting for rescue. Life jackets and tin cans lay scattered across the floor. Whoever came before had reached the island by boat. The Explorer began to see signs etched across the cave walls, arrows leading forward. Following the advice of the guides, eventually a line of arrows led to water pouring down from the walls. Licking a small seep, then sitting with his back against the wall, The Explorer reevaluated his approach for collection. Once reaching the point where immediate thirst wasn’t an issue, the next course of action was to begin storing water. The thought of relocation became more alluring. With no way of knowing exactly how far he had traveled, The Explorer made the decision to stay close to the water source while searching the cave for resources. For the first time since anchoring, the constant thought that The Explorer was not alone passed into mind.

Looking for guidance, The Explorer began shifting attention toward finding established pathways and etchings. Collecting items as he found them, evidence of long-term survival presented a shared story of similar interest. A rusty tin can was found with one side flattened, as if it was used as a cup by the previous inhabitant to press against the water wall. Each item made sense within the context of the cave. Ropes, cut into small pieces, marked directional paths for someone feeling their way through halls in the dark. As The Explorer searched the walls, he noticed an X etched into a smaller chamber. Peering inside to see what the chamber held, The Explorer waved his torch from one side to the other. A skeletal figure next to his right leg that he had not noticed while walking in caught The Explorer by surprise, enough to drop his torch. Looking closer as the torch burned on the floor, a cause of death was visibly clear. A missing hand and a large crack on the skull gave a speculative glimpse into the final moments of life. As frightening as it was, the body lay as an omen to a grim reality of the hostility this cave presented. The Explorer, humbled by the sight of a momentary glimpse into a fellow inhabitant’s life lost, moved on.

For four weeks, the trips into the darkness became a ritual for survival. Bottles with collecting funnels made from flattened aluminum cans pressed up against the wall on the floor in a row. As the only constant source of drinking water on the island, the wall had become a staging ground for continuation. With options being limited by the thought of rescue, efforts to explore the depths of the cave became postponed. Preparations were made for each venture into the abyss routinely. Torches made from palms, clothing, and gasoline were positioned at the entrance of the cave.

With little hope of rescue, nine and a half months had passed. Just as the ordeal began, monsoon season approached with dark clouds forming over the ocean. A calm turquoise lagoon had transformed into a turbulent whitewater jetty. Seeking relief from the storm’s heavy winds and rain, The Explorer made camp inside the cave. Upon the storm’s passing, the boat had been carried away with the receding tidal surge, leaving The Explorer alone with only the items he had stored in the cave. Now, the only possible chance for survival lay within the shelter of the cave.

With no boat and no way of knowing if or when rescue would ever come, The Explorer came to the conclusion that life on the island was reaching an end. Even with the odds stacked against him, The Explorer’s pursuit of survival remained intact. While collecting water, The Explorer noticed something he had not taken into consideration before. The way the flame moved wasn’t the way it was supposed to be moving. Locked in an airtight vacuum, seeing continuous updraft movements move past the flames toward the entrance pool rather than the interior caused The Explorer to pause. With his last hopeful effort, The Explorer collected his remaining items, venturing forward into cavernous tunnels beneath the ocean.

Mile after mile passed as The Explorer walked deeper into the volcanic tunnel. As air pressure still pressed backward toward the entrance, The Explorer followed the flame as his guide. Noticing along the way that small pieces of rope had been dropped in a singular line showed evidence of someone attempting to mark a course in darkness. After scaling a series of black-step drop-offs, The Explorer entered a small fracture at the base. Walls began to glow, leaving the ground-floor cavern illuminated with multiple species of multicellular life. Making a small camp amongst the illumination, The Explorer cooked a fish he had brought, then pulled a small amount of the glowing algae, lichen, and fungi from the walls and began to taste them. Blue algae was spit out, giving off a taste and odor similar to the dibutyl phthalate inside a glow stick. Another photoluminous red tasted more like iodine and kelp. Although earthy, a green lichen became the most favored over all others. A glowing orange fungus found nearby was tested as well. Aware of the dangers of ingesting unidentified fungus, a small amount was placed at the tip of The Explorer’s tongue, then spit out. Shortly after, The Explorer began to feel sharp stomach pains, profusely sweating as he fell ill. Hallucinating as shadows bounced in the fire, strong psychoactive effects of the poison fungus lingered on for hours. Experiencing sensory deprivation in perceptive isolation, The Explorer curled into a ball, eventually falling asleep to visions of shapes and rainbows. Waking up in total darkness to the sound of what he thought was a horn, a new torch was lit.

Not knowing what was illusion or reality, the sound inspired The Explorer to move forward. Thinking about the possibility of being under an island with a port, The Explorer gathered his belongings and proceeded onward further down the tunnel system. A sheer edge drop appeared as the single lit path ended. One rope with a poorly constructed knot was wedged into a crack, then wrapped around a rock. Another signal from whoever came before to keep going. Without being able to see the bottom, The Explorer picked up handfuls of bioluminescent algae and began throwing it off the edge. Still being able to see the light as the algae landed below, The Explorer was able to estimate the wall was around 20 feet high. Attaching a makeshift rappel line made from the rigging of his sails to the rock in the same fashion as the rope before, The Explorer lowered down his gear with the rigging, then grabbed both ropes and lowered himself to the floor below.

Immediately after the descent, The Explorer heard a crawling sound coming from within the cavern. A black arthropod similar to a centipede was moving toward him. Using his battery-powered flashlight to highlight the creature, The Explorer began running. A vivid glow from a nearby tunnel filled the rocky hallway. The Explorer, running toward the light, emerged out of the darkness onto a stone cliff platform. Looking out over the canyon cathedral landscape that appeared in front of The Explorer, a high ceiling stretching out as far as he could see. Turning back to see if the insect was still following, The Explorer noticed a large amount of what looked like large birds running toward him. Within seconds, the first animal stopped only feet away. Hissing as it bowed, the animal held up two hands with three clawed fingers. The creature’s feet had a large hook-shaped talon on each inside toe, with two longer toes that resembled its fingers. It was a dinosaur, living in modern time. As The Explorer faced the animal, he could see more emerging from the cave and surrounding cliffs outside the exit. The Explorer reached for his satchel containing the fish he had brought along. Swinging the bag at the creature, it attempted to snap at the fabric as it moved closer to its face. Shaking uncontrollably, The Explorer began to feel a paralyzing fear. Unsure of what to do, the bag was thrown at the animal to break its attention. The Explorer ran, turning without knowing where he was going, running forward away from the cave across a shallow stream into a fern-covered landscape. Looking back to see more animals surrounding the bag, the pack was tearing away fish as they were shaken free. With only two animals following him across the stream, The Explorer turned around. Squaring up with the beasts as they lunged forward, The Explorer grabbed his dive knife from its sheath. Brandishing the blade at the animals, The Explorer readied himself for an attack. One raptor made a streaking attempt to circle around to The Explorer’s back as he broke eye contact with the second. Using the gained ground from the diversion, the raptor jumped onto The Explorer’s back.

Panic turned into a primal need to fight for survival. After everything The Explorer had been through, he was still not ready to give up. The Explorer pulled the animal off his back with both hands over his head, slamming it on the ground as the other bit down onto a fanny pack around his waist. With one hand, he held the creature down, forcing a blade directly above the shoulder at the base of the neck. Without hesitation, The Explorer grabbed the second creature with both hands by the snout as it held onto his pack. Using all his strength, he forced the animal onto the ground, trapping it between his legs as he mounted it. Turning the raptor’s head in the opposite direction, The Explorer broke the dinosaur’s neck. With a knife still stuck above the shoulder, the first raptor, injured, scrambled to right itself into a standing position. The Explorer picked up a rock, waiting for an opportunity to strike, then went on the offensive. The Explorer hit the raptor as it repositioned a hind leg to stand, grabbed it by the face, and forced the head in the opposite direction. Standing up, The Explorer felt his hand run over a shoulder onto a large cut running down his back. Gathering his belongings, The Explorer entered into the vegetation, moving forward into the cover of the crystal cathedral canyon.

For over 30 years, The Explorer traveled through the underground oasis. Encountering every civilization up to the point where he was found. Nearly 500 miles from where The Explorer began, he was found living with a group similar to “Citadel,” a civilization of self-reproducing females he referred to as “Sweethearts.” A civilization placed directly beneath the center of the CNT-quartz crystal ceiling. Named “Sweetheart” for their devotion to others’ well-being. Willing to save any other member’s life even if it means giving their own. In his own words, “Out of all the civilizations I’ve been with, these ones are the best.” Upon asking if The Explorer had encountered any other humans while the cathedral, he said, “Yes!” A short while later, he introduced a younger couple. A man and woman who have been trapped inside since 2016. The Explorer was informed that only three days after his ship had been swept out to sea, a search party visited the island. The vessel found floating in the ocean was reported to the Fijian coast guard officials. The crew searched the island, finding the grave that belonged to his girlfriend. Without knowing what had happened, the government labeled The Explorer as a prime suspect to homicide. Upon further investigation, his name was cleared by the government. Right now, The Explorer is still inside the canyon, in communication with the outside world for the first time since his voyage began. The Explorer, a man named Busch from Tampa is expected to return after quarantine assessments.

New dawn, new day -

To fully understand this prehistoric underground canyon, you have to understand how it was created in the first place. As it stands, the cathedral provides evidence of evolutionary courses that have developed over millions of years within an isolated space. The fact that multiple intelligent/semi-intelligent humanoid and intelligent non-mammalian species have existed relatively undisturbed gives a unique insight into how evolutionary biology adapts in isolated populations. Being that both dinosaurs and humanoids coexist inside gives a unique perspective about how the geological formation acted as a catalyst for a miscellaneous assortment of species from different eras within Earth’s history.

The first steps of figuring out how something like this could happen is figuring out the parameters of the cathedral formation itself. Massive scales with some of the most interesting anomalies ever recorded within geological science kept life intact. A giant quartz crystal ball cluster that branches into veins on the ceiling is infused with naturally occurring carbon nanotubes, giving exposed underwater protrusions the ability to pass light from the surface. This crystal canopy acts like a magnifying glass for what little UV light is able to pass from the surface of the ocean as it transfers into the darker zone near the bottom of the ocean. Located near the Tonga Arc and Monowai Seamount, a series of perfect geological symmetry allowed life to prevail within a terrestrial underground ecosystem. With CNT-quartz pillars jetting out of the seafloor, the ginormous crystal cluster is able to send UV rays throughout the cathedral ceiling. Providing the base of a perfect atmospheric and ultraviolet phenomenon for what would become God’s terrarium. Life underground, living and flourishing with adaptation running the course of multiple evolutionary sequences, then going a step further and providing a landscape for the interjection of new species. Creatures believed to be extinct found a way to survive inside a fragile ecosystem that knows nothing of life on the surface of Earth.

The canyon, a stretch of interconnected caldera chambers, one thousand miles from one side to the other and 40 miles across at its furthest point, 1-2 miles at the highest sector, with multiple entrance points connecting to known tectonic fault lines. To figure out the structural format, the base concept of an ever-changing surface would be a simple explanation of how and why this canyon exists. With the developmental process of the surface of Earth throughout history, life over time became trapped. Virtually unaffected by extinction events and rising sea levels, wanderers from above entering without ever leaving. An ongoing battle between old and new, with permanent extinction as the underlying driver for survival.

Since the formal global discovery in early June 2025, evidence of the geological origin is still being investigated. Although classified, the discovery marks a pivotal milestone in our understanding of the capacity and complexities of life on our planet. By using a combination of aerial drones, high-resolution cameras, and remote geo-analysis technology, evidence is being gathered to identify the true nature behind this mysterious new underground world. The true origin points to these island chains being above-ground prehistoric volcanoes. The island the travelers found, most likely the rim of a once-active supervolcano, the tunnels made majority of basalt lava tubes have become reinforced with carbon and high-GPA concentrations of mineral deposits. The canyon, 20 miles from the island, a once-inhabited above-ground area that supported prehistoric life. As the tectonic plates shifted over millions of years, the volcano became inactive, allowing for mineral deposits to form. The CNT-Q crystal clusters formed over a cavernous area where volcanic deposits once existed. Volcanic eruptions, conduits, and other geologic processes created a livable region below the surface. In the time of dinosaurs, life migrated through the pigeonhole-like topography, bringing with them nutrients and seeds for vegetational growth. Natural selection began to occur as time progressed. Species began to isolate themselves, either living on to colonize or go extinct. Subspecies emerged as a result of captivity in compatible species. Even then, life found a way to progress. At some point in time, the world was reshaped by an extinction event. The entrance now became a barrier wall between life above and below. The chambers themselves formed an enormous, near-indestructible structure beneath the ground. A phenomenon that combined multiple extinction events within the microenvironment, mixed with mineral compositions, to form a barrier between the inside and the surface above. Caldera walls collapsing to refill chambers introduced high amounts of fauna-based carbon plasters. With minimal access to the world’s progression, the canyon acted as a time capsule for what was and once was, up until the present day. The chain of life entering without leaving was never broken. At various points in time, higher levels of evolution and intelligent life emerged from the outside world. As the flow of life into the underground environment slowed, the cathedral, able to provide the platform for isolated evolutionary changes, was sporadically modified throughout centuries with each new addition to the collection. The integrity of the underground topography preserved as the one border-line tectonic foundation began to slide under another. With the cathedral’s mineral composition being an assortment of carbon subtypes, quartz, basalt, and other volcanic materials, it was able to withstand time and seismic activity. Located in one of the most tectonically stable sections of the Pacific Ocean’s Ring of Fire, a perfectly natural chain of geology transpired. With high GPA of the fortified walls, the lighter basalt layers around the outer subterranean settlement acted as a seismic dampener. Almost like a diamond football between two mattresses, pressure from basalt layers absorbed seismic changes as the structure held its shape between them.

Over time, as the living assortment grew, dominant species established themselves, while other ancient species lost ground. Without the ability to adapt, extinction was inevitable. Life blossomed into isolated pockets, unaware of others only hundreds of miles apart. A truly remarkable anomaly with the thinnest possible statistics of creation. Each caldera, unique in formation as a result of receding molten rock leaving the given space subjected to a cooling process, building a thin wall between each segment. Due to shifting plate tectonics, eventually volcanic activity would move, creating a new caldera while leaving the old caldera dormant, but intact. Over millions of years, these processes occurred. The thinnest areas formed as a result of volcanic channels eventually experienced erosion or collapse. Each section produced an interconnected structure-like chamber following the volcanic line right to the most recent eruption. With the presence of time, water, air, and UV light, biological fertility began to increase. Over the millions of years taken to create a livable environment, eventually life forms found themselves trapped in prefabricated spaces. After relocation, adaptation, or extinction would occur. The size and shape of each geological section dictates migration between each subsection. As the cathedral sits now, smaller creatures are able to pass between chambers, while larger animals remain trapped within individual sections.

The topographical and geographical nature of the canyon’s biodiversity is centered around the ability to provide ultraviolet light mixed with natural biochemical properties. The now-center of the crystal cluster burning light acts as a pseudo-equator between the two sides. The chambers, forming as multiple calderas that eventually collapsed after the tectonic plates shifted, made a near-perfect line of interconnecting ovals/circles. (A good analogy would be like cookies pressed together on a baking sheet.) Being that the crystallized chandelier formation is one of the key factors behind making light possible, the further away from the center, the colder and darker the areas become.

Reconnaissance drones were able to detect multiple entrances other than just the Fijian island tunnel. At the furthest northern point, a tunnel system stretched out over a 200-mile gap, connecting to a system emerging out directly into the southern Mariana Trench. The tunnel can be accessed underwater, then followed upwards until it reaches an air pocket, which means the chambers are acting like a perfectly pressurized air tank with siphoning capabilities. Water pressure pulls air from the surface like a vacuum, while plant life helps replace oxygen through carbon-dioxide absorption. If the atmospheric space has too much oxygen, it gets pumped out into the ocean, adding to the siphon effect. A second tunnel was found stretching out from the northeastern wall, leading to an island between Thailand and Indonesia. Inside, a spelunker has been trapped living amongst a pod of small triceratops, unable to progress due to the large number of oversized insects. A third tunnel travels south, intersecting Papua New Guinea, then splits toward Australia’s northeast coast. The Australia tunnel systems have created a nearly impassable labyrinth of crocodile pits and changing geological zones. Multiple other tunnels have been found collapsed at various points.

Geothermal activity and underground aquifers allow for sustained cooling and atmospheric circulation. Large amounts of freshwater flow through the calderas. Most notably, the source of where the popular bottled water “Fijii Water” comes from. A natural diamond aquifer and basalt filtration system allow for purification and storage of water. Some people have reported finding diamonds in bottles, while others reported the water tasting like marshmallows. Both link directly back to natural phenomena that occur within the underground environment.

Party of two-

In 2016 two couples traveling together in the Southern Pacific Ocean found the cave after filming themselves snorkeling in the remote island’s lagoon. A man from San Diego, California, a man from Denver, and two women who had met in San Diego—one a Florida-born college student and the other an exchange student from Finland—entered the cave and were never seen or heard from again..

The two couples: Woman from Finland recently partnered with man from San Diego. Man from Denver Colorado together long term with the Woman from Florida.

Video summary:

An underwater GoPro video shows the snorkelers diving down in front of the chimney without realizing anything is out of the ordinary. The female free diver spots an opening around 15–20 feet below the surface, then dives down far enough to point the camera up into the chimney. After noticing an air pocket at the top of the chimney, she returns to the surface for air, then dives down again, entering the enclosed space until she reaches the surface inside. She returns to her friends to tell them that there is a large chamber inside the chimney.

The two women enter the chimney, making their way through the tunnel to a wall between the air pocket and a deep connecting pool. Both women, experienced free divers, observe the second pool from above by leaning over the edge and looking down through their masks. They realize that the pool is completely filled with common reef sharks. They contemplate the risk and choose to take the chance of crossing. They reach the other side unharmed and begin pulling themselves out of the water onto the ground at the mouth of the cave. Inspired and amused, they avoid further exploration and return to the water, crossing back over the depression, through the chimney, and into the lagoon outside.

After reviewing the footage, the group begins entertaining the idea of a spontaneous adventure into the cave system. The girl from Florida, a seasoned mountain climber who had summited K2 earlier that year, opts to act as guide for a spelunking expedition. The rest of the group agrees that it would be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. They set a course for Fiji for gear and supplies.

Without a large mountain-climbing or spelunking market on the island, the available gear is limited to carabiners, headlamps, mast climbing and sail-rigging rope, heavy jackets, camping equipment, and camera mounts. There is no way of knowing exactly how far the cave stretches, so they plan for a two- to three-day expedition. As far as they know, it is just a small cavernous formation. The idea is not really to spend more than a few days inside the cave. After seeing the size of the entrance, the girls agree that this is something more than a small sea cave. Once the equipment is purchased, the group of four boards their boat and begins the journey back to the island, returning to the exact location of the chimney formation. They anchor the motorized boat and prepare their bags.

To accommodate the amount of gear they brought, a small inflatable raft is used to shuttle equipment across the shark-filled pool. The four make the descent into the chamber. The first two to cross are the girls, while their boyfriends wait in the air pocket, holding onto a rope connected to the raft. A few minutes later, the raft is pulled back. One of the men enters the raft with as much gear as possible, shuttling across the shark-filled depression. The last man winds up the rope, loads the remaining equipment, and paddles across. The excitement cannot be contained; after all the anticipation, they are finally inside. Everyone begins removing camera equipment for documentation purposes, securing their headlamps, and fixing personal items for the adventure. The mountain climber places three stones on top of each other as a marker of their presence. There is nothing left to do except step into the center of the universe, expanding out into the darkness—a journey into the center of the Earth, reality collapsing behind them as it fades to black.

Immediately after entering, it becomes clear that they are not the first to reach this space. Signs of a previous inhabitant are scattered across the cave floor. With the tunnel illuminated by high-lumen LED light, the evidence of a fight for survival casts shadows as they move. Items left behind sit as omens of the sanctuary the cave may have provided for someone lost and alone. They begin to hypothesize about the events that occurred leading up to their arrival, contemplating whether this person might still be alive and what they would do if they found whoever had been there before. It is as if they have become entangled in an unsolved mystery unfolding in front of them.

The farther they go, the more answers they receive. The adventure had turned from a simple spelunking journey into a deep state of consciousness seen through fresh eyes. As the party begins piecing together fragments from multiple layers of information, it becomes apparent that the story is separated into two different time frames. Dates on American-made items mixed with older objects made from organic material give them a better understanding of how the cave may have been used by more than one lost traveler.

The anxiety of not knowing carries them forward, already changed by the short amount of time spent inside investigating abandoned objects and etched writing on the walls. Two stories are interwoven together while being documented by a third party.

The group is now nearly a mile and a half into the cave system when they reach a slick downward step. Once they regroup at the bottom, the tunnels branch into a fork. One side is marked with an X, while the other is marked with an arrow pointing forward. The mountain climber shines her light into the tunnel with the X at the entrance. The beam hits a wall a short distance from where she stands, making it clear that the chamber is a dead end. She enters the chamber hall, then screams as the light pans right toward the ground, the sound echoing through the cave from both sides.

The two men enter the hall as the woman holding the camera follows. Stepping around the corner, she focuses the camera down toward the ground. A skeleton with a missing hand sits toppled upright, arms crossed, back against the wall. After a short examination, the group exits the chamber hall to discuss their concerns. The four weigh their options: go back to the boat to report the incident, or continue on to fully understand the circumstances surrounding the death. They decide that the best option is to follow the cave until they reach the end, or at least find out whether there are any others inside.

One of the women points out that they are now morally obligated to report the findings. Since they are inside a cave in the middle of the ocean, going back to the boat and reporting the incident would be time-consuming. The group comes to an agreement: one person will return to the boat to report the incident while the others wait inside for further instructions. The party of four then proceeds back to set up camp in the entrance chamber.

Once at the entrance, the two landlocked members drop their packs and begin making camp, while the San Diegan and Floridian board the raft, paddle over the shark pit, and head through to the chimney. The man dives underneath the water, reemerges into the lagoon, and swims to the boat anchored nearby. The sun is now beginning to set. He grabs the microphone for the radio system and begins issuing a mayday call over the airwaves. A few minutes later, the female mountain climber climbs onto the boat. They sit next to the radio waiting for a response. He continues the broadcast for nearly twenty minutes, then waits for an hour. No one answers the distress call.

Giving in to the reality of the remote location and the unanswered broadcast, he grabs a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of wine and tosses them overboard. The two jump back into the water. The San Diegan grabs the bottles by the neck and swims back to the chimney. After attempting to dive down with both bottles in his hands, the buoyancy of the whiskey forces him to return to the surface. The mountain climber points out that there is a tiger shark swimming nearby. Deciding that the whiskey is not worth swimming back to the boat for, he leaves the bottle floating at the surface and dives under. The second attempt is successful. He enters the chimney with a bottle of wine, reemerging in the air pocket above. A few seconds later, the female mountain climber appears nearby. They climb into the raft, giving their friends the signal to pull them across the secondary pool.

As the raft approaches the middle of the pool, they see a splash from below. Air begins bubbling from the side of the inflatable raft. They start sinking into the water, paddling forcefully in an attempt to gain ground. The two on shore, holding the ropes, pull them forward until they reach the opposite side. They are safe, except that the raft is now deflated. The two exit the water holding a bottle of wine. They make a quick dinner, toast to their adventure, and pass the bottle around. The rest of the night, they sit together drinking wine and talking about how far they want to go. Each comes to the agreement that they will follow the path until the end, looking for closure before returning to notify authorities.

They sleep inside the cave, waking a few hours later ready to continue. Each person begins buckling their pack, leaving a tent and cooking gear behind at the entrance. They move through the cave without recording until reaching the chamber with the X at the entrance. They stop to grab the camera gear and begin recording. As they move forward past the chamber, the walls begin to tell a story.

Writing etched into the wall in English explains how the previous inhabitant had been trapped on the island. He was a man from Tampa, Florida, a member of a mafia crime family who had left the United States in fear of capture. The etchings depict his story of surviving a storm that claimed the life of his girlfriend, how he found the cave after being swept inside, details of his life before, and how he ventured deeper into the cave in search of a way out. The camera is used to capture the story while a light is directed at the wall. A short distance away is another wall with water dripping down from the ceiling. Even without investigative experience, the party is now able to piece together the chain of events through simple logic.

A quick discussion follows about what will happen if the man is still inside the cave. Judging by how the items have sat undisturbed, they conclude that he has not returned after leaving the area. The possibility that he fell or became trapped somewhere inside seems more likely. The party of four begins its descent deeper into the cavernous tunnel system, guided by small pieces of braided jute rope and etched indicators at each fork. For miles upon miles, they follow the trail deeper into the ground, expecting an ending that never comes.

Airflow becomes a topic of conversation. Why is air flowing outward, passing through the cave from the inside out? One of the men, a cigarette smoker, lights a cigarette inside the cave. When he lifts the lighter to it, he notices a gust of wind as the flame jets sideways toward the entrance behind him. He blows out smoke, and it begins traveling backward. In awe of the phenomenon, the girls continue to contemplate the possibility of an exit somewhere farther down the system.

While pausing for a rest break to drink water and discuss their plan of action, they hear the sound of fluttering in the distance. Through the darkness, they hear movement coming toward them. They form a circle, grabbing items they brought as weapons. A few seconds pass before they hear the sound of something landing in front of them. It is a bird. As it walks into the light, it bobs its head, scanning them. It is about the size of a peacock, except with an unusually prehistoric appearance. It lets out a flat-sounding honk that reverberates through the tunnel. One of the girls gasps as it turns and runs back the way it came, taking flight as it disappears from view.

“Did we just see an archaeopteryx?”

In complete disbelief, they gather their belongings and move forward after it. The group, now nearly twenty miles from where they began, has just documented for the first time the existence of a prehistoric creature believed to be extinct.

After descending into a chamber with large natural steps, they turn a corner into a narrow chamber illuminated by an array of bioluminescence. They turn their lights off after entering to record the spectacle. Vibrant neon bioluminescent protist and fungi cover the walkway inside the chamber. Electric blue, green, red, and purple growths decorate the walls all along the way. They move through the space, mesmerized by the vivid colors surrounding them. They find a section large enough to move around in and begin making camp.

With no sense of time or urgency, they sit together in the dark, illuminated by color. Not knowing exactly where they are or how far they have traveled, they sit quietly, humbled by the forces of nature. Above them, two miles of earth and water separate them from the world they knew. The man from Denver gets down on one knee and proposes to the woman from Florida, capturing the proposal on camera.

The two couples, now beginning to recalibrate their plan of action, returning to the fundamental principles of life: food, water, and shelter. An LED lantern is placed on the ground, lighting up the chamber as they ration out food among the group. Without wanting to travel back to the base camp at the entrance, they decide to rest, then continue on until they are able to finish their goal of finding the missing traveler. After a few hours of rest, they are ready to move on. They speak about how hard it must have been for the survivor and what might be farther down in the cave.

Just as before, they begin to hear a flutter in the distance. Without any doubt, it is the sound of wings. Thinking it may be the bird from before, the mountain climber grabs the camera and starts recording. Two creatures appear, different from the bird before, comparable to puffins with bat-like bodies. More aggressive than the bird, they fly in circles around the cavern. One flies directly at one of the men, clinging to his gear while trying to bite him with a mouth full of sharp teeth. He tries to throw it off, grabbing the creature and forcing it to the ground, then stepping on it. The other lands on a rock nearby and begins climbing toward them, opening its mouth and forcing air out, making a hollow noise from its throat. The mountain climber hits it with a backpack, then continues hitting it until it stops moving.

Shaken by the sudden disturbance, they examine the creatures. Completely stunned by how rapidly their trip has transformed into a prehistoric event, they become more aware of the dangers the cave poses. If something as developed as an archaeopteryx and a small pterosaur can exist within this space, there has to be more. Curiosity gets the best of them. Even after the first encounter, the need to know overpowers the instinct to flee. Life at this level of development would need space to survive. The only possible explanation is that there is something more than just the cave itself. The creatures definitely are not blind or pale like other known cave animals.

The decision is made among the four: they will move forward until they have to turn back. They make a final determination that this discovery of life below the surface of Earth is too important to pass up. Undoubtedly, it would be the greatest natural scientific discovery in history. They would be famous for it.

After two more miles of following the trail of jute rope, the four come to a sheer cliff. Over the edge are two ropes connected to a rock and fastened with a knot in a crack. Seeing the ropes strung out over the edge gives them the impression of an old movie in which a group of friends goes searching for lost pirate treasure. One of the girls begins to object to the idea of rappelling into a space that may contain creatures they have never seen before. The mountain climber encourages her to take the risk. They have all the gear needed to rappel down, as well as foot harnesses with locking ratchets to help them climb back up.

The mountain climber opts to go first. She secures a rope down the middle of the drop-off with the other ropes on the left, uses her climbing experience to lock the rappel line into place, cracks a glow stick, leans over the edge to test the strength, and drops the glow stick to the bottom. After giving a quick lesson in rappelling to the others, she vanishes over the cliff, shouting up from below that it is only about twenty feet high.

The second to descend is the woman from Finland. She locks herself in, then slides out backwards over the edge on her stomach. A short while later an “all-clear,” of safe decent from below is heard.  The two men begin lowering bags down on a different rope while the two women below remove them and hook the rappel ratchets onto the lines. After the gear is down, the men place themselves over the edge and start climbing down.

Being more cautious from this point on, they decide to look around for any signs of life, then turn back if the area becomes too dangerous. The four continue filming while walking around the bend. Less than a mile from the drop-off, light can be seen on the walls. Here it is: a real-life journey into the center of the Earth, a completely non-fictional world beneath the surface. The party of four has just found themselves in a strange new world where life is capable of surviving. Their first sight out over a thousand-mile underground canyon is documented on camera.

They begin celebrating their accomplishment, completely caught off guard by the magnitude of their discovery—history in the making. Not even a minute after the celebration begins, one of the women, horrified by what she is seeing, notices something moving on a nearby cliff. Gripped with fear, she begins focusing the camera on it. The cliff face to their left begins moving with more than one creature. Whatever they are seeing has seen the travelers and has started running toward them.

The mountain climber runs back into the cave, while the other three run forward, screaming for her to stay with them. Before they can go after her, the creatures have already surrounded them. The last they see is their friend entering the cave, followed by a large number of animals.

Fear is the thing pushing them forward. The now-party of three runs down the mouth of the cave’s exit into a shallow stream, then across to a shoreline. The ground is fertile with dense ferns. As they run into the ferns, they are followed by multiple small reptilian creatures. The three have no choice but to face them. They turn with their backs against each other.

Raised on modern cinema, all three have grown up with fictional depictions of man and dinosaur. The difference now is that they are living it firsthand. Easily identifiable by a large hooked claw on the inner toe, upright bodies, and clawed hands, the creatures look like raptors.

“Raptor.”

Just like in the movies, they have become encircled in a standoff with raptors. Breathless and paralyzed by stress, fatigue, and adrenaline, they keep their backs pressed together. The two men remove their backpacks and hold them out in front of themselves as shields, trying to protect their hands from being bitten. The creatures circle them, hissing and darting around in attempts to attack from behind.

With their backs pressed together, they keep eye contact with the dinosaurs. The three begin moving as a group farther into the ferns, away from the shoreline. The creatures walk upright beside them as they move. The three advance in unison across the foreign landscape, as if glued together. The raptors size them up from a short distance away, periodically darting from one side to the other, looking for a breach in their formation.

The two men grab the closest things they can use as weapons while holding their bags. One pulls out a pickaxe; the other attempts to light clothing on fire. The woman, grappling with reality and the life-or-death scenario they have been thrust into, hugs her bag by the straps while doing her best not to break the line. She struggles to breathe and keep eye contact with the creatures surrounding them.

Second after second passes as the three move forward, looking for some kind of break in the suspended anxiety. The woman’s camera remains recording at her side, connected by a lanyard on her wrist. Then, from somewhere in front of them, a low-frequency rumbling draws their attention away from the raptors. The small pack that has followed them into the ferns turns toward the sound, hisses, and begins running away in the opposite direction it came from. A giant three horned creature appears from the brush, bursting out in a defensive display of dominance. The party of three seize the opportunity and run forward into the vegetation. Not knowing where to go or what they will find, they simply turn and run.

They run until they reach a cliff overlooking an open valley that stretches out as far as they can see, a seemingly endless space disappearing into a haze. It is fully enclosed by a ceiling littered with veins of mineral deposits. A clear crystal root system refracts rainbows of light from above. Unsure whether it is day or night, they can see no sunlight from their vantage point.

Looking for a secure location to hide, the three travelers scale down the cliff to a nearby overhang. Dropping their gear, they break down in an emotional state of shock. Reality seems nonexistent in this world of unknown possibilities, a fractured state of existence beyond the grasp of fiction. This is actually happening. Tears begin pouring out in a vulnerable release. It is as though they have crossed the line that blurs the boundaries between time. Going backward would almost certainly be the end of them all.

A few minutes pass in silence as each member contemplates the gravity of the realization. Traumatized by the sudden turn the trip has taken, the three are stricken with grief over being separated from their friend. As they begin picking up their gear again, something crawls onto the ledge. It is a large insect resembling a centipede, scanning back and forth across the platform. The girl from Finland panics at the sight of the giant insect and stomps on it. As it begins dying, its pincers lock down onto her foot. One of the men jumps in and hits the insect with a climber’s pickaxe, pinning it while the woman limps free.

Unaware that the camera is still recording until a beep indicating a low battery breaks them out of their state of withdrawal, the girl lifts the lanyard-attached pole-mounted camera, unintentionally recording footage out over the cliff to a panoramic view across the valley below: the first documented video evidence of a land beneath the surface of the Earth, an anomaly appearing as a landlocked cathedral below the sea. She lifts the camera as the video cuts to black.

From the firsthand accounts of the survivors, the three, fearing for their safety, remain on the cliff debating the fate of their friend Olivia, the mountain climber from Florida, who ran back into the cave. They question whether they should attempt to escape through the cave. After the experience with the raptors, they decide against it. Judging by how aggressive the creatures were and the numbers they traveled in, they assume the animals probably stay close by, waiting for prey to get trapped.

Without knowing the state of their friend’s well-being, they continue to hypothesize about the possible outcomes of her actions. If she made it out, she may be able to get help for a rescue. Alternatively, though none of them wants to say it aloud, help may never come. Winding down into a new plan of action, they decide they will wait nearby, and if help does not arrive, they will eventually be forced to find a new way out or try to sneak back the way they came.

After three days of waiting, the three—now running low on food and water—are forced to act. The woman from Finland is now hardly able to walk because of the swelling from the poisonous sting on day one. While sitting and thinking about what to do next, they hear a sound from across the valley. It is a bell ringing far away, an unmistakable hallmark of intelligent life. They wait quietly and hear it again. Their first thought is that it is their friend, and that she may have led a search party down but overshot them. That must be where they need to go. Packing their bags, they prepare to leave the cliff and head into the valley below.

The two men act as support, one on each side, while the woman limps between them. After leaving the cliff, they begin walking toward the sound of the bell. Any thoughts about how their friend may have managed to find an alternate route deep into the center are suppressed by the overwhelming need to move toward the sound. They walk for hours, beginning to realize the sheer scale of their surroundings. The difference between day and night is marked by a warm glow followed by a dimming into silvery darkness. The air becomes cold and dank once the light fades. From their previous vantage point, it looked as though lava was flowing somewhere in the distance. At night, areas with volcanic activity glow red.

With no visible connection between themselves and the source of the sound, all they can do is make camp within the vegetation.

After two days of walking through the vegetation and trees, the thought of finding a rescue party becomes less logical. They begin second-guessing the source of the bell. There is no possible way a search team could have arrived and passed them without being noticed. Thoughts of the man in the cave come to mind, or even other people who may have been trapped inside. They all agree they heard the bell ring multiple times. It has to be something—or someone—else. As the cave begins to turn to darkness, they hear it again. A bell rings out from somewhere far away beyond them, echoing quietly throughout the cathedral walls.

Still following the direction of the bell, a week later the party of three runs out of food. Water is easier to find, as fresh streams are scattered throughout the canyon. Food, however, is a much greater obstacle. Plants are everywhere, but without knowing what is edible, the three take turns testing different species. Reaching the point of starvation, they begin hunting larger game.

The shock of being in an underground trench capable of supporting prehistoric life becomes secondary to hunger. Since they prepared for extended video documentation of the cave system by bringing spare camera equipment, they now use their cameras to record segments of their journey. One of the men is able to corner a small emu-like dinosaur in a patch of trees. By throwing a small log at it, he injures the animal, then delivers a fatal blow and presents it to the camera.

The landscape changes the farther they proceed toward the center, transforming from a fern-laden plateau into a basalt scrub valley, then into a jungle swamp, all within a few miles. Prehistoric creatures are everywhere. The group documents their existence with recorded footage. Megafauna larger than anything on the surface of Earth still exists here. Giant crocodiles and sauropods survive undisturbed, intertwined with plant and animal species from multiple time periods. It is a land of lost wanderers and migratory specimens.

The three understand the importance of their scientific discovery. Each knows that this is now their life’s work. A short video segment shows a man in the distance hitting something with a rock. As the three nearly call out for help, they realize he is not identifiably human. They begin to question whether he is a caveman or the man from the cave above. After reviewing the zoomed-in footage from the camera, they notice he is not wearing pants or traditional clothing. Instead, he is wearing what looks like a dinosaur hide arranged like a vest. The woman from Finland coins the phrase “Short-Dick” as a reference to the noticeably small genitalia of the caveman-like humanoid.

Still moving forward toward the center, nearly two weeks have now passed. The land is dominated by thin trees with pockets of rocky clearings between each patch. While walking through this landscape, the man from San Diego begins recording as he follows behind the other two. He starts filming himself narrating as though he is hosting a Youu*Tube channel. The video shows the man from Denver and the woman from Finland together. She is holding onto him over the shoulder as she limps forward.

Walking behind them at a slower pace, he begins speaking in a descriptive manner, showing the landscape in all directions before turning the camera toward himself. The woman from Finland objects to his sudden choice to become a video host. She says it is out of line to record a travel-style video while she is lost, injured, starving, and dehydrated. The man filming counters that the discovery is too important not to document and talks about the fame they will all gain from it.

The woman, reaching a breaking point, argues that it is disrespectful after everything they have been through. In the frame of the video, a tail is seen crossing behind his neck and tapping him on the shoulder. Suddenly spooked, he flinches. As The San Diegan turns to face the opposite direction, a large creature approaches him from behind. Before he can fully turn around, everything above his waist is inside the mouth of an unidentified creature.

The camera, pinned inside the creature’s mouth, records his final moments as he speaks to his father, apologizing and telling his family he loves them, before falling to the ground as the creature lifts its head. Audio of a man and woman screaming is heard, followed by the sound of rocky soil being pressed underfoot. The remaining man and woman can be seen momentarily frozen. Panicked voices are heard as the sound fades away. The rest of the recording captures a backdrop of ferns as a second creature emerges from the trees, passes through the frame, and disappears. A short time later, the camera is repositioned upward toward a stone ceiling with crystal inlets.

From the firsthand accounts of the two surviving party members, they had turned away from their friend briefly after arguing about the ethics of recording the journey. When they turned back, he was partially visible, with his upper body inside the mouth of what they described as a T. rex. The dinosaur froze when they looked at it, then began moving backward without breaking eye contact.

Immediately after this first visual contact, the man from Denver felt something tap his shoulder. A second T. rex appeared from their right as he looked left. The woman looked the opposite direction, making visual contact with the creature charging toward her, which then froze and moved backward just like the first one. The party, now reduced to two, ran away in the direction they had been traveling. The woman, supported by her companion, hopped on one leg while holding onto the man. They ran for two minutes until fatigue forced them to stop.

Expecting to be attacked, they watch as two of the large dinosaurs come into view. Unlike their understanding of tyrannosaur hunting behavior, the creatures move sideways along a tree line, changing color with their tail ends pointed toward the survivors. Once in camouflaged positions, the creatures begin using the ends of their tails to tap the humans on the shoulders. The man identifies this as an instinctual ambush behavior. Like lions and tigers, they seem unwilling to attack while in full view of their prey.

Calling the dinosaurs’ bluff, he stands with crossed arms in front of his partner, keeping eye contact with one while a second tyrannosaurus appears, displaying the same exact behavior. With two dinosaurs now in front of them, he tells the woman to keep her eyes on the second while he watches the first. The two stand facing each animal as the tails repeatedly move around behind them, tapping at their shoulders in an effort to get them to look away.

Now convinced this is the key to survival, he tests the theory. For a split second, The Denverite breaks line of sight with the first animal and looks directly at the second. When he looks back, the first dinosaur has already made a move toward him, then freezes in place and repositions itself, tapping his shoulder and face repeatedly with the tip of its tail. The two gather themselves, stand upright, and begin moving backward without breaking eye contact.

The position they eventually secure is a small geological overhang formed into the landscape. Once they begin to move again, a third creature appears, which they recognize as the one that took their friend. It is clear that he is dead. Blood covering the animal, and the lower half of The San Dieagan’s body. Legs still connected by a belt, rests outside the dinosaur’s mouth as it settles into a hunting position against the tree line.

Horrified, the two slowly begin moving along the path of least resistance, trying to keep all three giant dinosaurs in sight. They continue until they reach a cliff face. With only one option left, they descend. The woman goes first and makes it halfway down before her partner begins climbing after her. A few moments later, two of the three dinosaurs appear over the edge, waving their tails down toward them. The man scales down and meets up with his partner three-quarters of the way down. As the two reach the ground, they run toward the tree line across the way, turning just in time to see two of the large dinosaurs freeze in midair as they fall from the cliff.

Within a few hours, the bell rings out louder than they have heard it since beginning their journey. They are now close enough to walk directly toward the sound. Moving frantically, they reach what appears to be an established pathway, almost like a well-traveled trail. The two, now sweating profusely, rush down it. The Finn, fighting off infection and in desperate need of medical attention, is beginning to lose consciousness. The Deverite picks her up and begins carrying her.

Stacked stone wall formations appear along the pathway. The Denverite travels along the path carrying his companion until he comes upon what looks like a church procession: a long line of small women dressed in white, moving upward along a path. He runs toward them with the woman over his shoulder. She is partially conscious as he rushes toward them, begging for help. As he approaches, waving his hand, the women become aware of them. A large number gather together, pulling out blades and making deaf-sounding vocalizations.

The Denverite sets The Finn down on the ground beside him and begins showing the women her foot, swollen and discolored from the injury. Still the women in white stand together, holding their blades in a defensive posture. Realizing he cannot communicate in English, he begins a series of gestures in an attempt to convince them that they are not a threat and need help. He reenacts the insect bite with his hands, then gestures about hearing the bell and being attacked by dinosaurs.

The women stand silently for a moment. Then one woman in white moves forward, losing her fear of the man, and begins evaluating the injured woman. She makes a quick gesture, and more of the women move forward to examine her. After a few moments, they begin trying to lift her up. The Denverite, taking this as a sign of acceptance, moves to pick her up again. The movement startles the women in white, who raise their blades. Tension begins to dissolve as they realize he is not a threat.

He picks up his friend and begins walking toward a wall surrounding a cityscape beyond. He starts to notice that their hands are formed differently, along with a few other irregularities. Compared with everything else they have encountered in the cathedral, these are intelligent beings capable of compassion. To him, it feels like a gift from God.

Upon reaching the wall to the city beyond, The Denverite is directed to stay outside while the women carry the woman from Finland through a gate marking the entrance. Two days passes without a word from his companion, before she returned. After regaining consciousness, The Finn had awoken inside a room made of stone, surrounded by pale humanoids. They had given her medical treatment by wrapping the insect bite in a thin bark tourniquet-like bandage lined with white flowers. The flowers pressed against the infected area acted as an antiseptic.

The Finn attempted to speak to the women in white, but it was as though they could not hear her voice. Once she was able to move, The Finn made an effort to locate her friend. Without knowing exactly where he was or the circumstances of her place in this community, she attempts to communicate without words. Eventually The Finn’s efforts are understood, and she is reunited with her male companion outside the walls. Soon both are granted permission to stay within the city.

For four years, the party of two remain living within the Citadel district until receiving information about other beings with five fingers and five toes farther into the cathedral canyon. The two leave together in search of another person living within the canyon. Unsure whether it is their friend Olivia, they leave the pyramid city walls. Eventually they find another city with a similar subspecies of humanoid beings, along with two men living among them: one a Filipino man who had been trapped inside since childhood, and the other a man from Florida who had been shipwrecked.

With the arrival of reconnaissance drones, the two remaining members of the 2016 party are notified about the fate of their friend. She had died while attempting to climb the sheer wall at the exit. Her GoPro was recovered, revealing conclusive evidence of her attempt to escape. The two remaining survivors are still inside the canyon, now in communication with their families. The only evidence of their disappearance came from a research vessel who had found a full bottle of whisky inside a floating tiger shark.        

The Lone Survivor — The Story of Ping

A man from the Filipinas who was left orphaned after he and his family drifted out to sea on a small fishing boat while traveling to visit relatives on a nearby island. For over forty years he lived inside the cathedral underneath the ocean. This story was written by his mother, who documented the events that led herself and her son to the island off Fiji, the island over 4,000 miles away from where they started.

The family’s boat was temporarily used as a ferry between islands as a way to pay for their own trip. After a tropical storm warning was issued, ferry services began refusing service until after the storm had passed. Ping’s father was approached by an American woman offering to pay to reach a larger island across the channel. After agreeing, three Norwegian soldiers on vacation noticed the deal being made and approached Ping’s father. Once leaving port, the boat was caught adrift in a channel as a tropical storm blew over, a direct result of a motor malfunction leaving them floating, unable to reach their destination. Ping’s father, acting as the captain to four tourist occupants, was unable to regain control over the vessel before it was pulled out to sea. The occupants were a retired American woman meeting her husband on the island, three Norwegian men attempting to cross the channel before the storm, and Ping’s mother, father, and sister. The ferry and all its passengers departed the shore, never to be seen or heard from again.

Once the storm had passed, Ping’s father, amongst friction with the ship’s passengers, was able to restart the motor. Darkness had fallen, and the ship was now back en route to the intended island destination. The motor began to sputter again before cutting out completely. This time, however, the engine had run out of fuel. The American woman became furious, demanding a full refund for the unexpected hindrance. The men from Norway attempted to help, but no amount of technical knowledge could replace fuel. The time spent drifting and the distance covered in current were too long. Once they began fighting against the tide, it was too much for the ship’s fuel supply. For the next three months, Ping would travel nearly 4,000 miles before making landfall on a deserted island.

Ping, still hardly able to talk, was looked after by his mother. His father, a seasoned fisherman, was able to provide food for himself, his wife, daughter, and guests. The mother, still able to produce milk from her pregnancy, was able to provide for her son as they waited for rescue. Due to the fact that it was the early 1980s and the family belonged to a remote island community, the chance of a swift rescue effort was limited. Without electronic communication and with limited resources, the family could only hope for a miracle. Their greatest chance of rescue was that the American woman’s husband had contacted port authorities and assembled a search party. Now at the mercy of the South Pacific Ocean, the family and tourists had no other choice than to occupy their vessel while it floated with the current.

As the days passed by, the sea began to reemerge as a desert of water. The fish became more scarce, and fresh water was not available. Despite efforts to build a makeshift solar still alongside a rainwater collection system, there simply was not enough water. The family began to feel the effects of dehydration, starvation, and overexposure to the elements. The American woman became increasingly agitated by the fact that her life hung in the balance as a split decision to risk crossing a channel. The men from Norway were helpful and friendly, but due to the language barrier were unable to communicate effectively. After two weeks out at sea, they began losing their thought of rescue. The will of a parent’s paternal instinct was what they relied on now. A few essential items made the difference between life or death. A fishing pole, luggage, plastic and metal containers, and a few personal belongings were all they had left. The mother began documenting each day in a journal.

Being that the boat was not just occupied by adults, misfortune emerged as the result of a child’s innocent mistake. The fishing pole, left unattended on the hull of the boat, was stepped on, causing it to fracture into two pieces. The father, asleep at the time of the incident, awoke to find their most valuable lifeline was missing. Panicked, he questioned the rest of the family, only to discover that the pole had been broken and thrown away. The breaking point had been reached. All hope for survival began to drift away.

Now six weeks after what should have been a short island-hopping excursion had turned into a nightmare survival scenario, multiple attempts to procure food and water had failed. The family of four, exhausted and alone, began to lose rationality. The communal bonds began to fall apart. The once mildly stable state was now becoming increasingly divided. During one of the nights, two of the Norwegian men began to argue. This would become the first instance of the descent into chaos. As the others watched from a distance, the two men began wrestling each other. One of the men forced himself out over the edge of the boat, dipping his hand into the water and pulling seawater into his mouth. The man let go of his friend, shouting at him. Within a day, the man who had drunk the saltwater began screaming at the horizon, losing his grip on reality. The others began to form a circle around each other. The man’s cognitive decline was evident. Noticeably larger than the others, his strength and size became a cause for concern. During the night, the man became aggressive toward the group. Focusing his attention on Ping’s mother, explicit advances began as the disgruntled man moved towards her. The Norwegian’s  fought to restrain their friend by force while he struggled against them. Breaking free from the grasp, overtaken with delusion and rage, he continued his advance. Ping’s father stepped forward and stabbed him. In shock, the Norwegian man was forced overboard into the ocean. He made no attempt to swim back into the boat. They watched as the distance between him grew. A few seconds of unrecognizable words continued, and then silence. The two remaining Norwegians grieved while the rest of the passengers sat quietly. Without being able to speak directly, hand gestures were exchanged between themselves and Ping’s father, a shared understanding of the actions that were taken, as if they were trying to tell him they understood why. The American woman, however, became afraid of the captain. She refused to go near Ping’s father and would shudder every time he came close.

One by one, the remaining passengers began to lose their grasp on reality. The distance traveled was immense and unforgiving. They had since crossed over the southern equator without realizing it until one of the Norwegian men noticed a change in the shadows. He began drawing a circle with a line in the middle representing Earth, eventually coming to the conclusion that they were probably somewhere between Papua New Guinea, the Solomon Islands, and Fiji, a feeble attempt to reclaim their bearings in hopes of rescue. The endless sea was the only thing they had seen in weeks. A few days later, they awoke to the Norwegian man lying motionless on the deck. They could only assume that his death was a result of malnutrition or illness. The need for water and food remained an unchanging constant as the remaining voyagers clung to precious resources.

Rainfall was collected in containers, but still insufficient to sustain now six survivors. Stress of over exertion brought on constant disputes over rations. The American had opted to stay on the opposite side of the boat. Her demeanor was increasingly difficult to understand as words from the three cultures were lost in translation. Communication depended heavily upon hand gestures and drawings. The American began to feel as though her water rations were not enough to satisfy her needs. Desperation led to the woman becoming irritated and irrationally angry. In an attempt to steal some of the children’s water rations, Ping’s mother began to lose her composure. She pushed the American woman, causing her to lose her balance, falling overboard as a result. Within a minute, she was surrounded by sharks and pulled under. Ping’s mother sat down, unable to watch, breaking down and crying.

The remaining survivors said nothing of the incident, too tired to talk or express any type of emotion, they were drained of all moral obligations. A few days later, a storm rolled over the boat, causing it to rock violently in the storm surge. Once the ocean calmed down, a small glimmer of hope was rising. The water that had been collected was enough to last them for weeks. Again, tragedy struck in an unexpected circumstance. The Norwegian man began to act irrationally, as if he had drunk seawater. Realizing this, Ping’s father began warning his family not to drink the collected water. The only people who didn’t drink from the water trough were Ping and his mother. Fighting a battle within the mind, the men became cast into hallucinations. The Norwegian man walked to the front of the boat and never returned. Ping’s father, for the first time since their journey began, broke completely. He entered the water and began swimming out toward the horizon, leaving his wife and children alone. Ping’s mother held on, trying desperately, too tired to do anything except sit in the shade. Eventually falling asleep, when she woke her daughter was gone. It was now just Ping and his mother alone in the ocean.

For two more weeks they floated. A small supply of fresh water was able to keep them alive. Just as all chances of survival seemed to disappear, a tree could be seen on the horizon. The island grew until it became clear that the boat was being carried straight toward it. A pull from the incoming tide allowed for the boat to enter the U-shaped island. Overcoming all odds, this island became a godsend, pulling them straight into salvation. The boat drifted calmly through the center of the lagoon toward the shore, grounding itself as it beached.

It was as though fate had placed them exactly where they needed to be, exactly when they needed to be there. Although it was not rescue, the island was relief. The mother and her son remained seated on the island oasis for the next two years. Ping’s mother, Yan, Using every available resource she had left, found a way to survive. After regaining her strength, she began exploring every possible part of the island. During an extremely low tide, Yan noticed an unusual formation breaking the surface of the water. After spending her entire life on a tropical island, she was an expert diver and spear fisher. Curiosity brought her out into the lagoon toward the chimney formation, diving down further toward the bottom. A large school of fish congregated inside the opening. Using a spear she had made, she reached out and poked a fish. Immediately, the fish began to swim sideways with the spear attached to its back. The movement triggered a sudden response from a nearby reef shark. Without warning, the shark swam past Yan, taking the fish into its mouth while swimming upward into the chimney, causing the spear to lodge itself somewhere above. Yan returned to the surface and dived back down, pulling herself into the chimney’s chamber and swimming upward to retrieve her spear. After regaining possession of the spear, she made her descent. A stream of water forced into the chamber by the rising tide created an enormous amount of water pressure that began pushing her up in the opposite direction. Fearing as though she would be trapped, she attempted to escape the inner chamber. Again, she was met by swift pressure. With her heart beating faster, she swam with the pressure. A moment of darkness, then she broke the surface. Gasping, she breathed in, looking around, turning to see a dimly lit air pocket inside a cavernous space. Although not wanting to explore at the moment, the cave became an area of interest, a possible location that could accommodate herself and her son as they waited for rescue. Thankful to be alive, she continued her attempt to make it back into the lagoon. Taking a breath of air, she swam down the chimney formation with her spear and pulled herself back outside into the main lagoon.

The boat they had used during their journey was the only secure shelter on the island. Knowing the cave would be a safe place during storms, she planned to return the next day. Over the next few weeks, multiple trips were taken inside as Ping waited on the boat. She knew that eventually her son would have to make it through the underwater tunnel. They would practice holding their breath underwater while swimming in the shallow water near shore. As time passed, they became more aware of the danger the island posed. Sharks frequently swam into the shallow waters near the shoreline. A plan was created to use rope from their boat as a way to pull themselves through the underwater channel and into the air pocket. Every chance she had, Ping’s mother would move items from the boat into the cave, knowing that it was only a matter of time before a storm would pass. As expected, the sky darkened to grey and the water began moving uneasily. With only a warning from the sky above, Yan knew the time was approaching to make the first trip through the chimney. Ping, now a few months older than before, was taken out on a life vest. His mother, who had secured the entry rope into the air lock above, brought him out to the chimney. She spoke to him calmly, making sure he understood what needed to be done: hold your breath and kick like a frog. They made a countdown and descended down into the base of the coral-laden chimney. Pulling Ping as she dove as fast as she could, Yan grabbed the rope and began pulling them toward the air pocket above. The two broke the surface. She checked her son. Coughing on water, Yan patted his back as though she was burping. The trip through to the second pool was next. In the time of preparation, Yan had forced pieces of life preservers into the air pocket. The pieces of the life vest were used to make a small raft for her son to cross the pool. Grabbing a spear strategically placed onto the barrier wall the two swam across, poking anything that came nearby. Placing the raft on the edge of the rocky platform, she pulled her son to safety. For the next two years, Ping and his mother Yan would remain in the cave.

Over the course of the two years, Yan and her son Ping explored the cave in near pitch-black conditions. The majority of time was spent at the entrance next to the water pools. Glowing water along the entrance was the only place where fragmented light could reach. Without wanting to bring her son across the shark-filled water of the secondary pool, Yan was forced to cross over to spear fish. The boat the two had traveled across the Pacific on was now gone. At some point during the storm, the fishing boat had lost its anchor and disappeared. Knowing that the chances of rescue were now almost nonexistent inside the cave, the fight was now—to be or not to be. The only drinkable water was found far into the cave’s chamber. Tin cans were pressed into slanted angles against the wall to collect a slow stream of water that passed through the porous stone. Life had to be relearned in darkness. Every item Yan brought inside was utilized to the full extent. Eventually, they adapted, as well as one could in blind conditions. Stones and pieces of rope were used as guides to navigate through the dark. Ping, now older than at the beginning of their time at sea, had only known survival as a reality. The cave was the only home known. Ping’s mother, a Buddhist, would teach Ping what she knew of life, religion, and the world outside. The everyday battle to navigate dark pathways, procure food, and drink water was abruptly ended.

During a trip out of the cave, Ping’s mother Yan was bitten by a shark. After suffering a severe injury to her hand, she attempted to reach Ping and had fallen. Through the dark, Ping found his mother unconscious in a small chamber along the cave’s pathway. Unable to recognize danger, the first initial reaction was sleep. Eventually, the realization that his mother was not waking up dawned. Now alone, there was no other choice than to venture further into the underground trail. Ping left his mother where she lay and moved forward, further than he had ever gone before.

Once past the last marking stones, pieces of jute rope brought into the cave were used to leave a trail. For hours Ping walked further into the earth, tapping everything around him, then dropping a piece of rope. The channels slowly moved downward. Any time a ledge was felt, a stone would be dropped over the edge to gauge the distance between the fall and the sound. Following nothing but where the air was moving from, Ping was now nearly ten miles from the shore and a mile below the surface of the ocean.

Light began to glow as neon bioluminescent algae bloomed along the walls. Further on, the luminous protist and fungal life grew. Ping continued to move forward faster. The little light the protist produced was more than sufficient to guide him. A pathway opened into a high-ceiling cavern with a massive natural stone staircase formation. At the bottom was a narrow crevasse leading into a smaller bioluminescent grotto. A few miles through the grotto garden, Ping reached a sheer drop. The pathway, now at its end above, was halted by a ledge into a continuation below. Bioluminescent algae and stones were cast over the edge. With nowhere else to go, Ping managed to wrap the jute rope around a rock jetting out from the wall and wedge it into a crack. He grabbed the rope and slid downward, making three-fourths of the distance before falling to the ground. He moved forward around a corner. Light could be seen on the roof of the cave. The path opened up into a rocky pile of stones that led to a large exit. The area beyond was a dank, dimly lit oasis. A shallow stream cut between the cave’s exit and a small sedentary beach with ferns on the opposite side. As far as the eye could reach, the underground canyon filled the horizon. Ping crossed the river, stopping only to drink, then began walking into the ferns.

Years went by without any contact or connection to the world above. As Ping moved into adulthood, his time in the Cathedral was filled with harrowing revelations of survival and adaptation to a prehistoric world in the modern age. Without knowing anything more than what his mother had taught him, he became accustomed to life inside the ecological anomaly. Throughout his lifetime within the cathedral, Ping encountered almost every intelligent creature inside. Without knowing anything of the world above, the primeval dwelling was a gauntlet of parallel normalization. Hostile and unwelcoming, Ping’s journey is a tale of resilience in a foreign land. Years went by traveling throughout the cave, looking for a way out. After suffering a near-fatal injury given by a clawed crab-like scorpion, Ping was left as a partial eunuch. While fighting off infection from his injury, he went unconscious next to a stream. When Ping woke, he was being rescued by a pale-skinned humanoid. A group of pale beings brought him back to their city on a stretcher. Referenced earlier as Citadel, Ping called these beings “Sita.” The name stems from a Buddhist and Hindu goddess, Sita Tara (White Tara), who represents compassion, fertility, and healing. As taught by his mother, the spiritual figures of the Buddhist religion, these deities were often used to describe the beings who Ping encountered. As a way to express his understanding of the subterranean world he considered home, the word “Kaluwalhatian” was used, believing himself to be cast into the realm of ancient Indian mythology told to him by his mother. Ping lived his life as a pilgrimage through a vast world of deities and gods. For over forty years, Ping remained a pioneer in a real-life land before time, a place where prehistoric remnants thrive, home to a lone survivor cast away from the world’s view.

Ping was found living 500 miles from the cathedral caldera’s entrance with the three other survivors. To Ping, the cathedral was nothing more than normal. Life inside never broke his love for life. Ping was found to have taken a Sita as a wife and is living in a small settlement outside the Mecca-like city of the Sweethearts.

Overlords—

One tunnel in particular connects directly to an adjacent terrarium cathedral, which has partially collapsed. The adjacent terrarium cathedral has become dominated into a monolithic environment by a species closely related to house/horse flies. The tunnel’s entrance is guarded by an intelligent reptilian species, given the name “Overlords” by an inhabitant from Australia who has been trapped inside since 1974.

The city is a melting pot community of species from the cathedral who have relocated from other sections of the cathedral. The “Overlords” are a subspecies of raptor that have evolved inside the cathedral. Tolerantly peaceful to inhabitants within the cathedral, they act as a military force between the two cathedrals.

The “Overlords,” being the oldest civilization within the environment, have evolved with carbon deposits integrated into their anatomy from birth. A diamond byproduct is infused into their bodies from early raptors that have thrived for millions of years within the cathedral. Without being able to remove the carbon, diamonds are transferred into the eggs, which fuse into the hatchlings.

A traditional greeting of peace involves a kiss-like gesture to the hand, which is then reciprocated by the recipient. Those who do not perform the gesture are considered hostile and are not welcomed into the city.

Unable to differentiate themselves from other species, diamonds are considered the key to entering the city. As long as the presence of diamonds or other reflective materials is observed, the reptilian beings recognize the other species as their own. Those who do not wear diamonds are eaten.

The Australian —

The oldest surviving human in the cathedral is a man from Australia. Up until communication was established via aerial exploration drones, he wasn’t unaware of any other human presence. He was the only person to enter the cathedral from the Australian cave system. The Australian man was 18 years of age when he began a spelunking expedition with a friend. The two men entered a dormant volcanic cave system in the northeast territory of Australia and never returned.

The men had been exploring an underground network in Undara Volcano National Park that was rarely attempted. These dormant lava tubes occasionally filled with water in the wet season, making this particular area one of interest. When the journey began, the men planned a test run into a smaller section before entering a well-traveled route. As they expected, the tunnels were free of stagnant pools. The absence of standing water allowed for an unhindered passage through to a subsection of the tube network. In this section of the cave, there were stories of larger-than-average descents. The two men were warned by a ranger before entering the park about deaths connected to lava tubes. Some sections remained unexplored due to the lack of sufficient gear in the 1970s. The niche for specialized spelunking adventures in northeast Australia was minimal. The two men, however, shared the same interest in subterranean exploration.

The initial reaction was a mixture of excitement and disappointment. The two men, after hearing about the 160 km of tube networks, came loaded with gear only to find something of a tourist attraction. Fearing that they were overprepared, they began asking questions about other accessible sites within the park. One of the rangers hosting tours even laughed at the two boys after they showed up in full spelunking gear, saying they looked like scuba divers mixed with mineral miners. Loaded with equipment, the two sported oxygen tanks with respirators, rock-climbing essentials, carrying packs, and guano-proof suits. Although the two were disheartened by the lack of real spelunking the park offered, they continued to ask questions. The ranger spoke of a deeper cavern that was not used for touring. She gave them the general location of where to find the entrance and told them she didn’t know exactly what was inside, but it would be a good place to use their gear. The two men left hoping for the best, but expecting more of the same.

Once the entrance was located, they marked it with a totem and went inside. The last time anyone saw them was from a car that passed by moments before they entered the cavern. Now, 52 years later, the full story about the disappearance has been revealed. After an entire lifespan apart from the surface, the mystery has now been solved.

Immediately, the men knew that this secret cave was what they came for. It was exactly what was expected, dark and foreboding, with little to no signs of tourism. A bit of litter and clothing near the entrance suggested that it was more of a make-out spot, but once further into the dark zone, all signs of life disappeared. They moved comfortably through the darkness with clip-on flashlights and mining helmets. Without knowing how far or where they were going, a small amount of food and water was packed. After reaching a substantial drop-off, the path began to fork. One tunnel was partially filled with water, so they began traveling through the path of least resistance. After traveling a short distance into the tunnel, they found that the path forward was blocked by a large number of boulders. Fearing the end, they backtracked to investigate the water path. Although expecting to get wet, water was avoided if possible. Looking at the surface of the stagnant pool, a small crevasse in the ceiling indicated a potential way forward. They deliberated on who would enter first by flipping a coin. The Australian, losing the toss, waded into the pool after throwing a rock in to check for crocodiles. He breathed in and ducked underneath the water. A few moments later, he reemerged, telling his companion that there was an open space on the other side. They placed their belongings into a water bag and crossed underwater into a shallow lake inside a large cave. On the opposite side was a large amount of fallen rock that formed a small shoreline. Impressed with their discovery, they seized the opportunity to document the exploration by taking photographs of themselves. A few pictures were captured of them in their gear, and more photos were taken of the subterranean lake. It was photographic proof that they were now real spelunkers. The two drank some water, ate a small snack, and cracked open a beer they had bought.

Both, enjoying the moment, decided on their next plan of action. Still only a few hours in, they decided to check for a continuation of the lava tube. They both knew that at this point the danger was magnified. One wrong move could turn into disaster. Feeling as though they were the first to make it this far, they decided to go until they could go no further. Armed with a mix of mining equipment and rock-climbing gear, they continued into a nearby waterway. The first chamber they found was a dead end. More clothing was found and some old beer cans. “R + A” was etched into one of the boulders. Although they were not the first people to experience the area, they continued on. The two swam back into the shallow lake inside the cave, shining flashlights around the walls looking for an opening. A wall with an overhang blocked the view forward; the water flowing beneath the wall was the only way through. The two tied a rope around their waists. The Australian waited for a signal on the rope. One tug was felt, meaning that his friend had made it to the other side safely. The Australian signaled back, letting him know he was about to cross the divide. He held his breath as he was pulled forward, then surfaced at an awkward angle. This room was less spacious, with only a few feet of headroom. The waterway meandered along a narrow corridor, then ended in an upward climb onto a slanted rock wall. The wall was a gentle slope downward, but there was no sign of what was below it. The two began moving slowly along the upper section near the ceiling. Any further down the face and they would surely fall. Taking the chance, they moved forward around a blind turn. As they moved, the steep slope began to intensify. With only a few feet of walkable space left, their feet began slanting downward. The way the rock was angled and the low ceiling offered little maneuverability. The water from the lake caused their feet to slide. Talk of turning back was exchanged momentarily. Without warning, The Australian was being pulled down. His friend, reaching out for something to grab as his shoes lost contact with the wall, slipped as well. The Australian caught an outstretched hand and began losing contact with the rock. Both men were now sliding down the face of the wall. The two men slid into a space between the wall and dropped. As they fell, it was his friend who hit the ground first, The Australian landing on top of him. After a moment of shock and disarray, the realization of disaster became apparent.

The light from their flashlights was casting outward at obscure angles. Both, winded from the fall, regained composure. The Australian helped his friend into a seated position, asking him about his current state of well-being. His companion was less lucky. The fall had fractured his leg. Immediately, the two began talking about an emergency exit strategy. The flashlight was positioned upward toward where they fell. A sheer wall with a crack was visible, with no sign indicating a stable reentry. They had fallen into a conduit. The space was far greater in size than the tube above. It was a vast space with a large circular ceiling, reminiscent of the exposed lava tube they had explored above. The floor, partially filled with water, was oddly clear, with a small amount of rocks and boulders. A makeshift brace was attached to his friend’s leg. The Australian pulled his friend upright, and the two began searching for a way out.

Within a few minutes of walking, the light landed on an unexpected discovery. An ominous reptilian skeletal silhouette was cast against the wall. As they approached, the two were in disbelief at the size of the bones. It was a perfectly preserved crocodile skeleton. The bones, near fossilized, gave the impression that it was not of this era. A prehistoric relic that lay undisturbed for thousands, if not millions of years. The sheer size of the head was unlike anything they had ever seen in the outback. Saltwater crocodiles are known to grow large, but the fossil specimen dwarfed modern crocs in comparison. The head was about as large as a small vehicle. A photo opportunity presented itself. Battered as they were, the two began snapping pictures of the ghostly remains. A tooth the size of a knife was picked up as evidence of the discovery upon their rescue.

The discovery sparked hope that the accidental fall would not go in vain. Still, the fact remained that their only hope was to find a connecting lava tube. Fear of dangerous CO2 levels and a lack of guided travel into this particular segment was a concern. The idea that eventually the conduit would intersect a well-traveled space seemed logical, but with no way of knowing, the young men did their best to reorient their position. With limited options as to the direction they were able to travel, and no way of going back, they moved forward, deeper into the conduit. Knowing that lava tubes formed in layers, and the presence of a large conduit meant they must be somewhere below the main tube field, their attention was focused upward. The problem was that instead of remaining on a flat path forward, the floor was gradually sloping down deeper underground.

Volcanic conduit talk:

The best way to describe what a conduit is is a basalt-hosted aquifer. Similar to other mineral conduits, like long karst limestone cave tubes, it is a third layer under the lava tubes that once carried magma and other volcanic byproduct, then cooled, possibly allowing water to percolate through the basalt (lava rock) foundation. Unlike the lava tubes, conduits are like magma superhighways, an area where large amounts of molten rock and gases persistently gather before being displaced by pressure through the lava tubes. Like the main container for a tube of toothpaste with multiple crazy straws attached to the cap. These foundations get stronger over time due to mineral collection brought in through the porous basalt layer. Once fully formed, these conduit corridors allow water to be carried into fractures, underground aquifers, dikes, and water tables. The formation of conduits can be tracked through volcanic fields adjacent to volcanic activity and tectonic movement. From the Undara Volcano location in northern Australia, believed to be a stationary volcano, the volcanic pathway travels along the eastern inland border in a north-south pattern adjacent to the Coral Sea, then stretches from the Cape York Peninsula to Tasmania. Along the same volcanic pathway, a transition from granite to limestone extends in the same north-south pattern. In the north, the Torres Strait sits at the edge of the northern Australia subduction zone. After the Torres Strait, the volcanic zones cross over a tectonic rift, then spread out into the Pacific Ocean, making up the Ring of Fire.

Even with the thought of being trapped, The Australian and his injured companion remained hopeful they would find a way out. Although they may have been the first humans to set foot inside, the amount of fully intact skeletons of creatures was a testament to the conduit’s trapping capabilities. Along the walls and floor lay the bones of creatures that once lived long ago. Their discovery would surely make world news, but after 24 hours inside walking, there was still no sign of an exit. They began to realize just how far they had gone. The plan had changed from finding an adjacent lava tube to simply following the path, and maybe it would open up at the bottom of the mountain. With only a small amount of survival rations, eventually food would have to be found. Water was covering the floor, moving like a slow stream. The conduit seemed as though it would never end. Other than a few twists and turns paired with small hallways that led to more open cavities, all they could do was go straight forward. Following the water path seemed to be the only choice presented.

Both wanted nothing more than to find a way home. The dark corridors and desperation to leave became uncomfortably claustrophobic. Resting, then walking, then repeating the process, all while The Australian supported his friend as he limped through the space. The ground began to slope more dramatically into a gradual angle.

Thousands of years of mineral deposits and microbes had made the floor slick, much different than the basalt terrain they started on. The two men struggled to keep their balance in uneven sections. Through the darkness, without noticing immediately, the ground seemed to slope down as the ceiling followed. The two stood shining their lights over the ground in front of them while looking down into a slide-like extension. The white mineral-laden floor resembled a geological ski slope for beginners.

Both men, already having trouble moving efficiently without slipping, agreed that this section would be best to slide down feet first. The angle didn’t look extreme enough for them to lose control, but with limited mobility, it was an obstacle that required a specialized approach. The odds of them falling backward would be much greater if they attempted to stand. A few moments were taken to test their theory. The Australian sat down with his legs forward and began digging his heels into the ground, moving forward with minimal resistance. The idea worked.

The Australian’s injured friend fastened a rope around his waist, and as The Australian lowered him onto a sled made from two oxygen tank vests, dry bags, and supply packs, the companion was to lie facing forward behind The Australian while he acted as the brakes. To avoid pressure on his injured leg, the plan was that the two men would slowly make a controlled descent down the slope, and in the event they began to slide, they would just ride the angle to the end. It was a conceptually sound plan with moderate variables. The two wove climbing rope through the vests and loose gear and began the descent.

For the first few hundred meters, their idea worked exactly as planned. The Australian used his heels to maintain a slow forward slide. A patch of mineral growth was observed in the lit path in front of them. An adjustment in direction to avoid the stalagmites caused the sled to shift. With this imbalance of weight, the sled began losing shape. Still tied together, The Australian was pushed to the left as the weight of the gear and friend lying on top passed him on the right-hand side. Within a few seconds, the sled made from two oxygen tanks rolled over on itself into a shapeless pile, the injured man now hugging the items together as he took the lead. The Australian was now being pulled forward.

With the rate of descent intensified, the two slid uncontrollably forward. The injured man was now using the aluminum oxygen tanks as a shield and battering ram for upcoming stalagmites, while The Australian attempted to shine light forward. As though the two were riding a snow-covered mountain, they let the momentum take over. A moderately large patch of mineralized deposits caught the rope, causing the sled and its rider to dislodge. With a jolt, the gear broke form completely. The injured man, now hovering two feet above the floor, was sent flying. As the rope straightened out, it was an oversized charm bracelet made from spelunking equipment and lost men. Loose items were thrown across the sloping floor of the cave as the two bounced over the uneven surface.

Their speed slowed to a gradual stop as the conduit began to level. Tension around the waist began to tighten. The men, still connected by the climbing rope, called out to each other. A passing stalagmite at the base of the hill split between the rope prevented the two from moving forward. Random items slid past slowly, then disappeared into the shadows. The Australian released his end of the tether, causing the rope to move in an upward direction as the two slid down a few more feet to the base. Battered, but relatively uninjured, The Australian crawled over to his friend. His companion laughed a little, trying to see the brighter side by saying that it would have been fun if it was not for his leg. The flashlights were cast around the tunnel. The hill from below looked much steeper than their initial vantage point. Loose inventory dislodged from the slide was collected. All but two essential items were reclaimed. A dry bag holding their food and an oxygen tank were missing. The Australian, spotting the bag of food on the stalagmite where the rope got stuck, made multiple attempts to retrieve it. Each time he slipped and fell back down the steep base of the conduit’s hill. It became clear that going back up the decline was not an option. The two men sat, weighing their options, holding onto hope that somewhere within the 160 km of lava tubes an opening would appear.

Once again, the two pressed forward into the depths of the conduit’s dark halls. The oxygen tank was located further down the tunnel. All the gauges were cracked, and the air-release knob had been severely bent. Even damaged, the oxygen inside provided a crucial lifeline if the two were to make it out alive. Around the floor and ceiling, stalagmites and stalactites began forming larger spiked columns. Even with the amount of peril the men faced, both were thoroughly impressed by the geological formations. The sound of water echoed through the pitch-black landscape. Somewhere in front of the two, running water was flowing through the cave.

The men were now standing at the edge of a large underground river. The immense pulling current made the two uneasy. To get to the other side, they would have to wade through it. Upon putting their hands into the river, they found the water was moderately warm. They began hypothesizing that the source was a hydrothermal spring or groundwater from the surface flowing through an underground aquifer. A small dark shadow passed by, then a few minutes later there was another. Fish traveling with the current could be seen passing every so often. With a closer inspection of the edge water, minnows below the surface were tucked into the calmer sections where mineral formations blocked the current. The river’s current was moving from their left to their right-hand side. Erosion caused the river to appear directly from the conduit’s left wall, then flow through a larger cavern on the right. Fearing the possibility of being swept away and exhausted from the distance traveled, the two decided to sleep, then cross after they regained strength.

The two lost men woke to an ink-black backdrop. After the flashlights were turned on, they began strategizing about a way across the underground aquifer. The Australian, able to use full unhindered mobility, proposed throwing an anchor line to the opposite side, pulling himself across, then pulling his injured friend to the opposing bank. All gear was arranged into a pile. One side of the climbing rope was woven through open loops in the fabric, while the other end was cast over to the other side of the water. After a few attempts, a knot with a loop acted as a lasso to snare a stalagmite across the river. The river itself was over ten meters wide with an undetermined depth. The Australian’s injured friend braced himself in front of the gear as The Australian waded into the river. In an instant, the current began forcing The Australian into the middle of the aquifer. He held onto the rope and pulled himself across to the other side. His partner attached the rope to a carabiner on his oxygen vest and lowered himself into the water. The Australian began pulling on the rope as his friend attempted to close the distance. Once the man reached the deepest section in the middle, the water started moving him backward with the current. The rope, still attached to the gear, made a V shape as the man drifted downstream. Unable to kick with his legs, he used his hands to pull himself forward against the fast-moving water. The weight of the resistance dislodged the gear from the shoreline, causing the pile to enter the water. The majority of the equipment sat below the waterline as the buoyancy of the oxygen tank marked its location like a buoy. Once caught inside the current, the oxygen tank drifted past the man in the water, pulling the rope tight after reaching the end of its length. The Australian’s slack began to tighten as he held on. Excess rope near his feet started to slip through his hands. Drag caused by the dislodged equipment in the current, mixed with microbial films accumulated from the conduit’s surfaces, gave the rope a slimy, soapy feel. The Australian’s friend, caught in the middle, continued to pull himself to shore. When the rope finally extended to its full length, it pulled with a sharp yank, then failed. The lasso anchor was now unraveling as The Australian struggled to hold on. With one last heave, The Australian pulled his friend and the gear forward through the water. The current regained force as the drag increased, and the rope slipped back to full tension as The Australian lurched forward. Losing traction with the slick floor below, The Australian dipped into the river. The men and the gear, all attached by a single rope, drifted past the conduit’s circular tunnel into the rift in the wall. Now floating in the current, the men drifted into the void.

As if being lost in an underground conduit was not bad enough, the two friends floated helplessly deeper through uncharted territory. Every hope of rescue was shattered by the turning water. The Australian gained ground closer to his friend. The injured man held close to the supply bundle as though his life depended on it. Unable to swim efficiently, he held an oxygen tank under his arm to reduce the need to swim. With only a few yards to go before the two men could make contact, an overhanging rock formation forced them underwater. The Australian, poking his hands over the surface, felt small gaps passing over his fingertips. As the water ran beneath the eroded rock ceiling, it carried the men through, leaving no room to breathe. The Australian, reaching the end of his breath, attempted to force his head to the surface. Immediately after his face broke the surface, a narrow gap forced him under. Believing that his life was only seconds away from ending, he forced his head up over the surface of the water. Without resistance, he gasped air into his lungs. Choking on water and struggling to stay upright, The Australian was met with a respirator being forced into his mouth. His companion, now floating next to him, had activated his oxygen tank. The Australian gave a reassuring signal and removed the respirator from his mouth. The water began to calm, allowing the two men to regain composure as they observed their surroundings with their flashlights. The river was a catacomb of pillars. Both above and below, gigantic mineral formations created a surreal combination. The walls sparkled as the light hit them, creating a dreamlike image as they floated past.

With the absence of major obstacles, both men compartmentalized their deaths, coming to the full realization that this was surely the end. Words were exchanged between the two, not of ill will, but rather acceptance of their fatal errors. An epic landscape and the thrill of adventure were held as their final mementos. With the odds unfavorably stacked against them, the two made a pact to see it through until the end. Both, only just beginning their lives, never wanted to admit defeat or surrender. Now, 48 hours after entering the lava tube, the men were meandering through an underground water passage, making them the first in history to discover this geological terrain.

Hours went by with no end or exit to the waterway in sight. They attempted to theorize how this particular water path was possible. Water from spring-fed rivers and surface drainage into lava tubes over the course of hundreds of thousands of years, if not more, collecting and eroding the walls between multiple intersecting conduits. The volcanic space, now acting as an aquifer formed by erosion, carried the water through the path of least resistance. The presence of common freshwater fish species was unusual for closed cave networks. The two men spoke of the possibility of emerging into one of the nearby rivers. At this moment in time, they were not sure exactly where they were or how far they had come.

Other than a few narrow passages, their path was relatively unhindered. The time spent using the flashlights had drained the batteries. As they floated, the two fished out a pack of spare batteries. With only enough to fill one flashlight, the batteries were successfully transferred in darkness. Bright yellow light filled the space, providing a welcome optical boost. The Australian, holding the flashlight, pointed it at a large column rising from the water to the ceiling. As the two moved close to the column, a flash of yellow light shot back at them. The Australian’s hands began to tremble at the radiant eye-shine now directly in front of him. His friend, seeing the eyes too, knew it could only be a crocodile. Without wanting to panic, a quick optimistic observation was made, maybe it was dead. As soon as his friend spoke, one glowing eye turned to two as the crocodile turned its snout in their direction. The Australian, not knowing what to do, handed his friend the flashlight while he grabbed a bag to stuff into the crocodile’s mouth. The Australian warned that it was coming toward them, looking back to see his injured friend frantically swimming forward. The Australian ducked underneath the water while the crocodile swam past him. A few seconds went by as he held his breath in silence. When his head broke the surface, the Australian watched from behind as the crocodile snapped down on what he could only assume was his friend. There were no cries for help or any other sound. The flashlight illuminated the water like a bright orb as it sank to the bottom. A large lizard-like silhouette passed over the light and disappeared. The Australian watched the light grow smaller from behind his oxygen tank life preserver. He was all alone now. After everything he and his friend had been through, this was the first time he truly felt scared.

Grasping the sudden loss of his dear friend, The Australian floated quietly on the surface, thinking about his family and the series of events that had just unfolded. He wept as he drifted, jumping any time something bumped into him. His body was waterlogged and his mind was spent. Hours of being submerged prevented him from sleeping. Unable to keep his eyes open, The Australian attached himself to the two oxygen tanks and went unconscious.

When he opened his eyes, there was nothing but black. The water was moving faster than before. He felt his feet touch the ground below the surface, then begin to slide at an angle. The sudden change in depth caused him to crouch as he slid down a slick algae-covered slope. A short descent downward was followed by a splash. Without being able to see, The Australian covered his head, then felt around blindly for any type of spatial cues. His hand hit a slimy surface, and he pulled it back in fear of another crocodile. The smell was unmistakably that of fish. He felt fish all around him, bumping into his legs and midsection. Without hesitation, he began feeling for the supply raft, pulling out a dry bag and placing it between his arms. Sinking down into the water, he held the bag like a pot, slowly scooping upward. Feeling movement on the surface of the bag, he managed to grasp onto a fish. Doing everything he could to maintain contact, The Australian lifted the fish to his mouth and bit down.

Without light, The Australian waded through the pool. Knowing that crocodiles were present inside the waterway, he proceeded with caution. His movements became slower and more calculated. The feeling of fish darting past made every step forward anxious and unnerving. Doing whatever he could to overcome the fright of sudden movement, he held an oxygen tank in front of him. A sweeping motion was used to check for obstacles ahead. This continued for hours as he kept moving further into what he could only assume was forward. The Australian, able to walk through the chest-deep water, was now pressing through large schools of fish. He began sensing a bottleneck within the water. It was not moving him as it had before. The current was almost still. With every step, high numbers of fish would break the silence as they broke the water’s surface. His tank, floating on the surface, hit something foreign as it extended out to his right-hand side. The feeling was that of bone. The sound made a hollow ring as the metal made contact. Through the dark, a white flash crossed his eyes as he winced. Small needle-sharp teeth struck the side of his face from the cheek to the back of the ear. Flinching, he pushed the tank forward. Water kicked up as the animal propelled somewhere behind him, leaving The Australian stunned. He lifted his hand to his face to survey his injuries. The crocodile, a fraction of the size of the previous one, had caused slight lacerations along his hairline and cheeks. Now desperate to reach any source resembling a solid shoreline, he pressed forward at an accelerated rate.

The water began to lessen into shallower depths. Gear began sliding along the ground as it was pulled beside him. Now waist-deep, The Australian marched blindly toward stable ground. Without caution, he pushed into the shallows, attempting to find the end. The oxygen tank used as his guide struck rock. Feeling around the surface with his hands, he managed to pull himself out of the water for the first time in nearly 48 hours. Feeling over the gear, he found his dry bag. Inside was a carbide lantern along with calcium carbide, a traditional miner’s lantern that uses acetylene gas and water to produce a flame. Shaking, The Australian filled the chamber with water and carbide rocks, then struck the flint. A warm glow cut through the black. His hands were almost unrecognizable, withered and waterlogged with a red tinge. The relief was short-lived as half of his carbide began to ignite when exposed rock mixed with drops of water from his hands. As the cave began to strobe, the sudden bursts of light gave The Australian a visual layout of his surroundings. The surface of the water stretched out as far as he could see. Along an adjacent wall across the water, a dark fracture opening appeared, then disappeared as the light pulsed.

Carbide around his feet began to fizz, emitting a sulfuric smell, then burst into small isolated fires as a chemical chain reaction to the open flame. The Australian attempted to separate the reacted rocks before his supply was depleted. Using a dry T-shirt from inside the bag, he covered the open flames while closing a tin full of salvaged carbide. The T-shirt began to smoke as the chemical reaction continued below. Flames burst out through the open airways of the fabric, resembling a small campfire. Heat and light were a welcome gift after spending countless hours floating in the dark water. As The Australian perched on the small rock island, he cupped his hands over the burning T-shirt, shivering.

The next few days were spent on the rock, drying out as best as he could. The carbide lantern was used to scan the surrounding area. Yellow eyes appeared at the surface of the water every so often. The man counted three small freshwater crocodiles and one medium-sized saltwater crocodile. The large number of fish in the shallow lake kept the predators well fed and lethargic. There were so many fish trapped in the underground lake that all he had to do to catch one was dip a bag in the water while making a scooping motion toward the shore. With food and water satisfied, The Australian regained his strength.

A psychological change began to take hold, as the pursuit of a swift rescue transformed into long-term survival. Knowing that where he was had most likely never been documented, he gave up hope of waiting for someone to find him. His actions became centered around surviving long enough to find a way out. Eventually, The Australian ventured back out into the water, checking the edges for openings. It seemed as though a sedimentary change had occurred, causing the conduit to end as water seeped through smaller pathways. He traveled into every gap he could fit into. Each day was spent holding the carbide lantern above the water while surveying possible continuations. The large fissure adjacent to his rock became his main area of focus. A partially water-filled gap in the wall, large enough to squeeze into, traveled to a metallic ore vein. The path stopped at a section where the walls merged together, preventing further exploration. On the other side of the blockade was a large chamber. The gap was marbleized with rock and metal, making the sediment difficult to break through. A metal referred to as tungsten wrapped through the walls. The Australian was able to find a large jagged shard. This piece of metal became his probing tool. Using all available resources, the shard’s sword-like shape proved useful for traveling through the water.

Days turned into weeks as The Australian became accustomed to life underground. He had backtracked the lake searching for any continuation of forward progression. A few areas branched outward only to lead into dead space, leaving only the rift in the wall as a potential exit. Every day he used a geologist’s pick and the metal shard to widen the space between the two walls. The process was extremely slow due to the presence of metal ore in the rock. The Australian spent hours holding the carbide lantern to the metallic veins in hopes that the heat would weaken the surface. Multiple attempts to pry off segments produced minimal results. After reaching the point of exhaustion, The Australian would wade back to his camp and cook a fish in a metal cup. His lantern was his most prized possession; without the fire’s light, he would have surely died.

The key-shaped lake and his dry rock island became a prison. As he cooked a fish with his lantern, The Australian noticed a pair of bright yellow eyes. Compared to the other crocodiles he shared the lake with, they were much larger, with a wider gap between each eye. The smaller crocodiles could be easily prodded away with his metal rod. This one seemed different. Sounds of throaty, low-frequency rumbles bounced off the walls at great distances. Fearing the crocodile would sneak up on him as he slept, he moved his camp into the crack in the wall. Water flowed nearly all the way to the blocked section before transitioning to a small rock floor. The space was hardly large enough to lie down. The Australian positioned his oxygen tanks as a small retaining wall as he continued chiseling at the pinch between the walls.

Even with the added work, the wall refused to give way. Hours spent heating the metal veins took a toll on The Australian’s morale. Frustrated by the dire need to find a way out, he began growing angry. Various strategies were used, but nothing seemed to work effectively. The Australian positioned an oxygen tank upside down to hold the lantern at the wall. Due to lack of nourishment, he missed the shard he was using as a chisel and burned his hand on the heated ore. Losing his composure, he yelled obscenities while swiping his hand across the surface of the water. Reaching a breaking point, he began splashing handfuls of water at the work site in a fit of rage. The water steamed and hissed as it hit the heated metal ore. There was a moment of silence as The Australian, accepting defeat, finally gave up. A cracking sound broke the stillness as a section of the pinched gap fell to the ground. As though his prayers had been answered, he gave a half-laugh and moved through the opening.

The area behind the elusive opening was dry and narrow. The Australian moved his belongings away from the water and blocked the gap with his oxygen tanks. For the first time in weeks, the space allowed him to fully extend his legs. He stretched out over the floor and slept peacefully. When he woke, the search for an exit continued. Over the course of days, he moved further into the split. The walls pressed together with hardly any room to move. With only millimeters to spare, The Australian was able to squeeze himself along the corridor. The texture had changed from smooth mineralization to coarse rock with jagged metal deposits protruding from the walls. His movement was slow due to the amount of gear being shuttled daily. Before abandoning the lake completely, he replenished his food and water supply.

The further he went, the underground features began to show signs of humanity. Circular holes bored from above scarred the earth below. Sections of rock lay scattered across the floor near the winding pinstriped cores. He was underneath a mine. At every hole he saw, he shouted upward. A long metallic pole sat motionless, partially exposed through the ceiling, continuing into the floor. The Australian began etching his name into the side of the metal drill bit along with a short SOS message. He waited for any type of response from above. Eventually, as he ran low on food rations, he was forced to continue onward.

Each day brought a new challenge. A mix of climbing, crawling, ducking, and swimming became routine. The Australian, before entering the cave, had studied geology as an introduction to spelunking. Being a native Australian man, he was familiar with local mineral belts. Within a few days, he reached another section of mining remnants. With the relative distance between the two mining networks, he believed himself to be near Mount Garnet and Innot Hot Springs. The veins had changed from wolframite, scheelite, tin, and copper to large gold and silver veins littered with garnets, zinc, and lead. Seeing an enormous amount of gold in its natural formation was something The Australian had only read about. He knew then that, upon his escape, he could lead miners to the location of the largest gold vein he had ever seen. It was as though the gold spouted from every section of the cave. With only a carbide lamp to guide him, the light bounced off the walls, turning the darkness into a warm glow. Completely untapped and undisturbed, The Australian camped in the midst of the treasure-laden cavern for the night. Samples of gold and garnet were taken as he continued on.

Days continued to pass. Water was easier to access than food. The Australian’s diet became whatever he could find, including insects, reptiles, and occasionally bats. With each small meal, he became increasingly feral. He had stopped keeping track of days and time. A beard grew over his face, marking the descent into madness. Like clockwork, The Australian woke, ate, walked, slept, and repeated. The granite slab walls shifted again as he transitioned from the mineral belt region into the Devonian reef limestone karst of the Chillagoe–Mungana region.

The Australian, tracking his route with a compass, seemed to be heading from northeast toward northwest. The eastern route out of Undara was now leading him toward Queensland. The air inside became increasingly warm and humid. His initial thought was that the path, if it made a deep subterranean connection into limestone, would lead him closer to the coast or at least closer to the surface. For the third time, The Australian crossed into a transitioning sedimentary zone. The change began with the sound of water in the distance. The narrow mineral corridor he had traveled through ended as it began. A tight squeeze through a small opening was like stepping into an entirely new world. An overwhelming number of stalagmites and stalactites filled the lantern’s glow. Water poured down from the ceiling, striking the ground like an orchestra. The sound was almost deafening compared to the silent granite corridor.

The cavernous expanse was a true limestone cave system. Having become accustomed to a singular-path route, the omnidirectional layout provided a navigational challenge. The Australian set a central point and began probing potential outlets for a clue onto his next move. Water being brought down from above indicated a natural phenomenon geologists call a disappearing spring. Small amounts of litter, bones, and leaf debris around small waterfalls hinted that the surface was accessible somewhere above him. Following the direction of the flowing water, The Australian came to a heavy-flow waterfall. As water poured down from the ceiling into a pool below, the sound generated was noticeably louder than the others. Scanning the area with his lantern, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. As if the heavens above had blessed him with a miracle, an automobile tire, fully inflated with air, sat at an awkward angle on the floor of the cave. It was as though someone had let a spring above carry it forward just to see if it would truly disappear. The tire must have bounced around after falling through the eroded ceiling. As out of place as the air-filled tire was, The Australian knew the tire would be an important lifeline in case of any water transit.

Water poured into a collection of pools, then flowed into a developed channel thick with mineral growth. The sight was comparable to something out of a motion-picture film. As the channels cut from the limestone floor intensified, pathways began to merge. A wide river of fast-moving water converged into an unwalkable corridor, then vanished beyond the lantern’s reach. After a day of scouring other routes, The Australian concluded the only way through was in the water. It was a huge risk that could ultimately seal his fate. Becoming trapped in an underground torrent or dropping into an abyss was possible. The Australian, already hanging on to life by a thread, took the chance. Gambling his life on a reemerging exit, he gathered his belongings, placed them on his tire, and tied the gear down. Using one oxygen tank as a float and one firmly secured to his stomach by a vest for quick activation, he held onto the tire as he drifted into the center of the waterway.

The first leg was easier than expected. His legs were able to touch the bottom, allowing him to control the rate at which he traveled. His gear floated alongside as the river grew. Water being accumulated from other disappearing springs funneled to the main channel. The Australian held his lantern attached to his helmet to prevent the light from being extinguished or jolted off the bracket. Dark pointed shadows expanded and contracted repeatedly in the light as he passed by the exaggerated mineral formations. The Australian was enjoying the swift movement of the canal. As the water moved faster, the floor began to leave his feet. Riding the now raging torrent felt like falling. The free fall ended with a plunge into darkness. Holding onto his tire, he struggled to spark the wet flint on the carbide lantern. The Australian bounced around in the dark rapids, trying to keep his head and hand above the water. Fast-moving water began to steady as it had before. With his hand cupped over the reflective shield, The Australian let the acetylene gas build in his hand as he slid his palm over the flint. The flint caught the wheel like a lighter, and the spark restored the flame.

As The Australian surveyed the shoreline, the walls appeared to be looking back at him. Fossils plastered into the earth created a mosaic of ancient life. The ground beneath his feet felt like he was sliding on shells. Remnants of creatures both old and new were scattered through the hall of bones. An inclining shoreline began to form. Now able to stand, he scooped a handful of the loose ground from below the water and lifted it to the light. Miscellaneous fragments of once-living animals were laid out across his palm. Shells, teeth, ribs, and skulls, all randomly assorted. It appeared that the underground river continued deeper into the earth, but over time had become clogged, forming a beach made entirely from skeletons. The river, still able to progress deeper through the gaps in the bones, ended with the buildup preventing any further travel. From sheer scale, it was as though everything that had ever been caught in the disappearing springs must have added to the pile.

Upon exiting the water, the ground poked and cracked as The Australian dragged his tire out of the water. The morbid hall was eerily fascinating. Stalagmites had formed a fusion of fossils and mineral. A perfectly preserved Jurassic-era carnivore skull hung suspended off the ground as the stalagmite fused itself through the fossil. The distinctive tyrannous-like shape and large teeth were a testament to the cave’s deadly snare. A massive remnant from the time of dinosaurs, raised by the earth like a trophy. As The Australian stood mesmerized at the discovery, he began casting light around the walls. Fossilized whales and sea life were pressed in the walls as well.

The sound of scattering came from the piles nearby, breaking his gaze. For a moment, he felt as though he was the only living thing inside the hall. Turtles, hidden in the bone piles, began sliding away in an attempt to reach the safety of water. As the turtles darted past his feet, The Australian, jumping into action, caught one by pressing down on the top of the shell. The odor the turtle gave off was terrible. Reluctantly, out of starvation, he made a small camp and ate the turtle after cooking it in a metal cup. Over the next few days, The Australian caught three more turtles. Once again, he had found himself at a pivotal crossroad, weighing his options based on what the cave would allow.

Traveling over the pile of fossils was comparable to tearing every page from every book and trying to read them. Nothing was where it should be or who it belonged to. A cave of wonders and historic fauna collected over millions of years. Although the paleo-fascination of fossil dinosaurs and turtle dinners satisfied short-term needs, a way out became prioritized. The Australian, fearing that his fossils would be the newest addition to the hall, searched long corridors for continuations. On an expedition into a distant chamber, a breach opening in the limestone wall merged directly into a high-ceiling dreamscape conduit, a close comparison to the conduit from where his journey began, with the exception being the absence of basalt. Limestone conduits were more susceptible to erosion, allowing chandelier drip stalactites to hang ominously above. The size of the hanging pillars was disproportionately large. The Australian packed two small turtles in a satchel, then used his climbing rope to harness a larger soft-shelled turtle. Rope was fitted around the large turtle’s legs, tied around the center of the shell, resembling something between a leash and a suitcase. After multiple trips transferring gear into the limestone conduit, The Australian was now ready to continue on. The conduit was filled with slow-moving water that stretched out further than his light could travel.

A large bone was used for a push pole as The Australian sat comfortably above the water in the center of his tire. Oxygen tanks and item bags tied to his tire made up the outer edges of the raft. The large soft-shell turtle, still connected by the rope leash, swam freely. Every so often, the turtle would swim forward, pulling the raft with it, then stop. Each time the raft drifted close, the turtle would swim further away, creating a guided sled feel. Eventually, the water began to move steadily faster, pulling the turtle along. With no sense of urgency, The Australian and his turtle guide drifted with the current.

As the limestone karst conduit widened, the water became deeper. The Australian, using any viable dry surface to make camp, had lost track of relative location. Time seemed to disappear without sunlight. While awake, he floated on the water until he found a decent place to rest. During each trip onto solid ground, the raft made from a spare tire and oxygen tanks was moored while the larger turtle remained tethered. The Australian had now spent a week drifting on calm water. The two small turtles had been eaten along the way. The larger soft shell would eventually become a resource to provide nourishment. Reluctantly, The Australian pulled the tether into shore. He had become fond of the turtle and enjoyed watching it float alongside him as they drifted down the underground river. The turtle was a powerful swimmer for its size, with a shell over two feet long. The creature’s weight had become increasingly hard to manage in the deep water. On numerous occasions, the turtle, attempting to dive deep underwater, nearly tipped the tire. It was time for it to be eaten. Even with the sentimental camaraderie, The Australian was battling starvation.

A rock was placed next to The Australian’s feet as he pulled the turtle’s harness toward the shore. Dead weight was felt as the line pulled tight, the turtle succumbing to the forces of leverage and finally budging. As the turtle came closer to shore, it made a final attempt to swim in the opposite direction, with no avail. The large soft shell was dragged onto the rocky shoreline, then hoisted up by the rope over its shell. The Australian prepared himself to do the deed, unbound the turtle to prevent contaminating his rope. The turtle kept itself tucked inside of its shell as The Australian reached backward to grab his rock. With one quick dash, the turtle shot back towards the water. The Australian rushed to grab the turtle as it made a break for the water. He caught the turtle around the upper end of its shell, picking it up out of the water. The turtle, still kicking its legs, started scratching his arms and stomach. Fighting through the splashes and scratches, The Australian struggled to keep a firm grip. While attempting to reposition his hands, the long neck of the turtle began extending outward. The turtle, hissing and opening its beak, lashed out at The Australian’s fingers. In fear of getting bitten, The Australian pushed the turtle away as it fell back into the water. He watched the turtle from the shore float on the surface, then went to sleep hungry and beaten.

Moving over the deep water was a slow process. The Australian, after bouncing between a north-eastern fault trunk, had crossed into a north-traveling master conduit. As the transit merged, the distance between walls widened. A pressure-driven current naturally pushed the tire towards the deepest section of the flow. Floating at a walking pace lingered on for hours. By using a spare bag tied to a bone, he scooped water along each side of the raft to accelerate momentum forward. With no end in sight, long segments of the master karst conduit left little room for sustainable shorelines to stop. To rest, The Australian was forced to wedge himself close to the wall while remaining on the floating tire. Every day was wet and dark; his lantern was the only source of heat. His supply of calcium carbide had grown hard, but he used a surprisingly small amount to keep the lantern burning. Knowing the danger of water exposure, he kept his remaining supply close to him at all times. Maintaining proper nutrition had become a challenge. Most meals came from pulling himself along the wall while looking for insects. Crickets and arachnids could be found, but were difficult to catch efficiently. Miles upon miles drifted by slowly in echoed silence. Mentally, The Australian began losing the threshold of who he once was and what he had become. Approaching the age of just 19 years old, he felt as though his life had been reduced to savagery. The Australian’s birthday passed without celebration, instead spent clinging to a cave wall while chasing a spider. Fearing that he had lost complete control over his senses, he began hearing the sound of birds.

Since his time underground, it was not the first time he had heard familiar sounds from above. The darkness had a way of causing deprivation symptoms. Even in the isolation of the deep cavern, sound traveled great distances. A few times prior, he had sworn he heard cars and even people talking. Although plausible, the pursuit of possible sounds in far-off places at the time was unobtainable. This was different, though. The sounds of parrots shot through the cavern. Diffusion from reverberation caused long, warped tails to the high-impact calls. The Australian began moving forward toward the source. Within an hour, collapses in the karst ceiling and walls left rock debris scattered in place. Water dripped down from above as The Australian’s floating tire pulled to the breach.

Climbing over the limestone was a difficult task. Without proper food, The Australian suffered from fatigue and malnutrition. The rocks were jagged in some places and smooth in others. Speleothems covered the fallen litter that spilled over into the conduit’s waterway. A small mountain had formed in the wake of the collapse. What seemed like millions of tons of limestone had crashed down onto itself, breaking into an upper layer. The Australian’s heart raced as he climbed up the fallen formations. As the ascent leveled, he found himself in a parallel chamber, a miniaturized version of the master conduit below. The chamber provided solid ground and a steady, but manageable, waterway. The Australian, desperate to free himself from the master conduit’s monotony, descended down the speleothem collapse, grabbed his tire, then returned to grab one oxygen tank. With his physical limits expended, he lay down on the ground and passed out.

For hours he slept, waking up to pitch black. The carbide lantern had died at some point while he slept. Feeling around blindly, he found the light on the floor and proceeded to strike the starter flint with his fingers. Using the small flashes of light, he located his dry bag with the calcium carbide. Carefully, he chiseled off a few chunks into the base of the lantern, then crawled to the waterway to refill the water dropper. Within a few seconds, he began smelling the sulfurous acetylene gas expelling from the lamp’s orifice tube. He cupped his hand over the reflective shell and slid his palm down, striking the rolling flint. The spark ignited the flame as the room filled with light. Light then turned to fire as The Australian stood at the top of the breach to face the cave. With a whooshing sound, the air around his lantern chain-reacted. The whole cave turned into a trail of fire as the atmosphere inside the chamber combusted, immediately dispersing as the wall of flames disappeared into the surrounding tunnels and then out of sight. The Australian felt a rush of air against his back from the master conduit as methane gas trapped inside the chamber was replaced with oxygen.

For the next day, The Australian explored the upper chamber, collecting an array of charred insects. It was like the cave’s way of saying happy birthday to The Australian. Without wanting to reenter the running water, he decided to walk along the underground river until the cave rendered it impossible. The floor had turned into an all-you-can-eat buffet of crickets and spiders. If someone were to ask The Australian to eat a spider only a few months ago, he would have been repulsed by the thought of it, but now, in his current situation, he did not seem to mind. The fire had spread much farther than his view allowed him to see. Like a trail of breadcrumbs, he continued to follow the path of fallen cave creatures.

For the first time in weeks, The Australian felt warmth as the atmospheric temperature increased. The air was noticeably drier than the humid master conduit. Reptiles and bat guano began to emerge along the karst corridors, signaling an upper-level biosphere. Wispy strands of smoke flowed forward with the airflow. Smoldering guano along the ground sat idle as slow plumes of smoke danced from orange bands around the center. Smoke carried by the airflow blocked the lantern’s reflecting beam. A bat flying in the opposite direction bounced off the walls and sputtered to a stop on the ground. The Australian, sensing danger, activated his oxygen tank. Only upon turning the air valve did he realize he had brought the damaged tank. With the dial partially engaged at a half twist, he received a small stream of air pressure through the respirator.

Smoke thickened into cloud-like plumes along the floor and walls. The Australian rolled his tire through the deluge in hopes the end was near. A red glow pulsed through the dark smokescreen in front of him. As The Australian entered the karst chamber, he placed himself into a waterway in the center of the room. Fast-moving water from the narrow channel forced him forward deeper into the plume. He held onto the tire with his head above the surface, speeding down small dips in elevation, breaking away from the chamber and entering through a wall into a parallel tunnel. A sight resembling what one would imagine hell to be.

Everywhere he looked, scorched piles of guano emitted radiant red, yellow, and orange. The cave seemed to come alive with ember-infused bats. As the water meandered around bends and low ceilings, swarms of bats took flight. Smoking bats covered with glowing embers began to hit the water around him. Unable to fly properly amidst the chaos, bats fully engulfed in flame shot into the water. Tiny winged fireballs sizzled as they hit the surface of the water, then floated alongside The Australian. The canal passed through one chamber after another as it cut through the walls separating adjacent sections. Each chamber was worse than the one before. The barrage of smoldering guano and fire bats transformed into a chamber filled with open flames. Bird nests caught in the crossfire burned violently as fire lined the walls. A flurry of wings hit The Australian’s face as birds, seeking refuge from the heat near the water, rained down upon him. His hair began to singe as he passed bonfire-like piles of bird nests and guano. The Australian ducked his head below the waterline to escape the heat. Without sufficient oxygen pressure from his tank, he was forced to surface, gasping as he inhaled smoke and ash. A true nightmare scenario had escalated into what The Australian believed to be his final minutes. He moved his tire over his head and floated on his back. By placing his face in the center of the tire as it lay flat on the surface, he provided small relief from the heat. It was too much to bear. The Australian, praying to God for mercy, closed his eyes to shadow and flame and lost consciousness.

Bright, piercing light illuminated a red hue behind his eyelids. The Australian could barely open his eyes. It felt like his lashes had been glued together. His face was raw and his mouth completely parched. Feeling the waterline at his cheeks, the tire could be felt over his chest and shoulders. By a miracle of physics or a true act of divine intervention, The Australian was alive. The buoyancy of the oxygen tank pressed against the weight of the tire floating above had forced a wedge between the two surfaces. The Australian, sandwiched between the two buoyant surfaces, had floated face up for an untraceable amount of time. The water moved calmly around him as he regained functionality. Still unable to open his eyes, he forced his head under the surface, filling his mouth with water as he righted himself. His feet hit the ground as he dipped below the edge of the tire. By placing an elbow over the upper rim, he used his hands to pry an eye open. It was a painful process, as one eye opened to a blurred backlight while the second remained closed. The Australian repeated the sequence for the second eye and ducked back under water. His eyelashes had felt withered and scabbed. Flashes of sunlight rendered into view. Fighting through the pain, he rinsed his eyes multiple times as the fogged vision slowly subsided.

Holes in the karst ceiling made circular pillars of light along the surface of the water at varying angles. The columns created an ethereal arch of swords as light cut through the dim corridor. The Australian pulled himself out of the water onto the tire. It was the first time he had seen day in months. When passing by a band of light, he would reach out to feel the warmth as it passed by.

The end of the corridor opened into a pristine rainforest. Vegetation covered both sides of the river bank, while sounds of birds and insects filled the open air. Feeling direct sunlight brought him back to reality. The brutal darkness had given way to life, an Eden. Unable to move, the lush paradise disappeared once more as the water moved back into the karst. The Australian turned to watch the light disappear as he floated onward into the limestone cavern. Too weak to fight the current, he ventured further into the mouth of an adjoining cavern and dropped into darkness.

The bottom of the tire raft left his body, then connected with the back of his head as he sank into a deep pool of water. An unexpected fall into a disappearing spring had caught The Australian off guard. Forced to act, he reached out for the tire as the light from above dissolved. He abruptly stopped in motion, feeling limestone above and below. A slurping sound filled his ears as the force of the water around him was being pulled downward. The tire was wedged lengthwise in the gap as he held onto the overhanging ceiling. He felt the tire begin rolling forward, then turn sideways as it vanished below the gap. Now holding onto the ceiling with both hands, he fought to pull his legs out from inside the gap. Immense water pressure pressed down around him, sending the flow into his pants and shoes. He felt his belt give way and drop to his ankles, then his underwear. The force of the drag caused by his pants stuck around his feet acted as a parachute for the oncoming water. Unable to hold on, he let go, forcing himself underwater briefly, then pumping out the opposite side. Scrambling to pull his pants up and recover the tire, The Australian floated freely in the dark. As the water calmed, sunlight from the afternoon sun sporadically seeped through openings far above. Seeing the tire, equipped with the majority of his gear, floating further in front of him, The Australian swam to retrieve it, eventually gaining enough ground to hold on while it floated.

Disheartened by the sudden plunge back into the dark cave network, he proceeded back to his daily routine. He sat on the tire and continued on his way, making a mental note of his relativity to the surface. He felt safer than he had since the fall in Undara. Light from outside could be seen gradually shifting from the afternoon sunset to dusk. The karst-roofed stream transitioned from amber orange to moonlit silver. Into the night, The Australian moved through the cave, injured but happy to feel surface-level atmosphere.

With his lantern, he scanned the walls for openings. Small porthole gaps in the walls allowed for short glimpses of the sky and stars. At one point, a crack in the wall provided a view of a full moon and a large valley below. Still remaining vigilant for drastic changes in the topography and exit points, The Australian stayed awake. Without anywhere to make landfall, he drifted, hoping for a reemerging exit. A black sac hanging from the ceiling passed overhead. The Australian made a quick double take as he passed under it. It was like a flying fox, except huge in comparison. The body was almost as big as he was. A little further on, another one passed by. The Australian’s lantern caught the upside-down creature in the eyes as it looked directly at him passing below. The air left his body as he started to tremble uncontrollably. He turned his lantern forward to see a rising ceiling dotted with oversized winged creatures. The Australian stifled his lantern, causing the cave to go dark. A few seconds passed before his eyes adjusted to the fragments of moonlight. He sat completely still, trying not to make a sound. The sound of a low-frequency knocking echoed from behind. The Australian heard scratches against the limestone followed by a swooping rush of wind. The ribbons of the moon’s reflection vanished, then reappeared. Something had glided over him and positioned itself on the wall in front of him. The knocking sound was now directed toward him. The Australian dipped into the water as quietly as possible, diving underwater and placing the tire above his head. His feet touched the floor and he crouched down, pushing backward with the flow of water while unraveling the rope connected to his gear.

A ripple was sent through the water as the giant bat landed in it. The size was enormous compared to The Australian. Holding the outer edge of the tire with his fingertips The Australian kept his head directly in the middle. A small bump was felt, then the tire stopped in motion. The Australian could feel the bat’s lower legs next to his. He felt pressure on his right middle and ring finger, then pain. The bat had bitten down on the edge of the tire, forcing it from his hands. The Australian dived underwater, swimming as far as he could; surfaced for a quick breath, then continued swimming underwater. His most prized possession, other than his lantern, was now hissing as the tire deflated. The cave erupted with ultra-low-frequency knocking sounds in every direction. Splashing and screeches filled the air as more bats piled onto the tire. The Australian continued to dive under the water until the sounds grew distant. A narrow gap between the ceiling and surface caused the water to disappear below. Without any way of knowing what to expect, The Australian used his respirator to dive into the space between. For nearly two minutes he was unable to surface.

The Australian didn’t see the creatures again after the water crossing. An unbelievable animal, something someone would only think possible in a sci-fi horror. It was plausible that the oversized fruit bats existed only in that one section of cave. After everything The Australian had been through and seen, it made sense to him that there would be undiscovered animals trapped throughout the karst belt. His whole trip had already shattered previous expectations of probability.

  Without a tire, navigating the water was inhospitable. It would only be a matter of time before The Australian encountered a crocodile. Being close to the surface brought the presence of rational fear. As an Australian man, his whole life The Australian had been warned about the dangers of freshwater. Eventually, a way out would have to be found.

A break in the cave finally presented itself in the form of an eroded skylight opening. The Australian climbed up a limestone pile that looked as if it had once been part of the ceiling. Fallen rock provided a stable platform to scale the remaining distance to the surface. Surrounding the dome-shaped limestone surface was a tropical rainforest. It was hard to imagine that just below the rock was a labyrinth of caverns and waterways. Looking at the stone from an alternate angle, it seemed like an unsuspecting place to hide such a vast network. It had been months since The Australian had spent a full day above ground. Even with the majority of sunlight blocked by the surrounding trees, ultraviolet light from the sky hurt his eyes. He sat down, acclimating to the open air. His hands were battered with cuts, and the tips of two fingers were completely gone. Signs of infection were beginning to show. He felt ill, tired, and malnourished. A rock wallaby hopped into his peripheral vision. Too exhausted to make an effort to hunt, he watched in appreciation as it looked his way, then bounced away over the rock surface. The surface level visually looked like a long stretch of rounded limestone. Trees grew around the expanse of rock, blocking any vantage point. There was nothing he could do except find a way off the rock and make a fire.

Still outside the grasp of civilization, life above ground in a remote jungle added a new dimension of survival. The Australian’s hand was causing complications with basic tasks. After multiple months in damp subterranean passageways and waterways, the warmth of the sun was a welcomed relief. A small camp was made inside a eucalyptus grove. The Australian used eucalyptus leaves boiled in water to treat his wounds. Over the course of three months, he camped inside the forest. Every day he would make signal fires in an attempt at rescue. During his first month, the injuries to his hand worsened. Unable to explore the surrounding areas, he was in a battle against starvation and infection. Anything that came close to his camp was eaten. During his time alone, The Australian began talking to himself. A group of hikers stumbled on his camp and watched him having a conversation with no one. When he finally noticed them, he began shouting in excitement, believing he was about to be saved. The girls in the group screamed and ran away. The Australian attempted to run after them, explaining he was lost, but was unable to move proficiently. The group vanished into the bush, leaving his hopes shattered. He waited for a return, even if it was the police, but help never arrived.

The forest was a dangerous place. The eastern taipan is Australia’s most venomous snake, and they seemed to be everywhere. The snakes would enter his camp and hide under loose branches used for the fire. This resulted in excessive sweeping and clearing of his sleeping area. Using the metal sword-like shard from his time in the mineral belt, The Australian could spear the snakes as he pinned them with a stick. The snakes provided a much-needed nutritional supplement. Although dangerous to handle, they proved to be a crucial factor in his recovery.

The Australian fell back on Aboriginal teachings he had learned throughout the years. Life was not easy, but he had become a seasoned primitive survivalist. As it was, he was incredibly lucky to be alive. Every statistical odd had been placed against him, yet he remained fixated on walking out alive. As his health became stable, walkabouts were used to gather a general idea of where he was. During a walk, The Australian reached a high cliff that overlooked the ocean. Still a mile or two from the coast, it was higher than previously expected. In the distance, a small coastal town was visible on an outstretching peninsula. The remoteness and density of the forest were the only things preventing him from traveling straight through. Although it would be possible, The Australian had no shoes or clothes left, except a shirt that he wore like a scarf. As he walked away, a taipan crossed his path. The Australian took this as an omen: “Fear the snakes.”

The Australian knew the caves, he had spent months underground. On the surface, danger was everywhere. Snakes were a constant threat, plus emu, southern cassowary, and crocodiles, along with many other animals. Wildlife had become less timid with consistent human presence. A cassowary had taken an interest in The Australian while he slept. The bird often passed through the campsite, but recently began pecking at The Australian while he slept. Awaking to two heavy birds inside the branch barricade, pecking and scraping the ground. One of the birds was keen on scoring a worm. The Australian, on the other hand, was horrified that it was his worm the bird was after. The bird began making attempts below the belt. As The Australian fought to keep his manhood intact, he grabbed a branch and set it on fire. One cassowary ran out of the camp while the other stood unfazed, seeing this bluff as an act of aggression. The bird began kicking as a rooster would in a cockfight. Fearing the brazen advances by the bird, The Australian waved the branch of fire closer. Even still, the bird stood its ground.

The Australian had little experience with cassowaries, but knew they could be unpredictable. At the end of the tridactyl feet of a cassowary is a small sharp claw. Cassowaries have been known to inflict serious damage on humans when they kick. This threat was not taken lightly by the cassowary, which reared back and began kicking in a one-two succession. As tensions escalated, The Australian launched an attack of his own, managing to knock the bird out with an oxygen tank. It was not as though The Australian wanted to harm the animal. The bird was a beautiful creature, but with no other option The Australian was forced to take its life.

Nutrition the bird would be able to provide could keep The Australian alive for a at least month. Plans were made to make the bird last over an extended period of time. The Australian built a smoker to preserve the meat. Prepping and plucking the cassowary was a grueling task. With only a small pocket knife, The Australian was able to remove one leg to be cooked. Hours were spent pulling feathers, but the bird’s size made the process exceptionally difficult. As a giant-sized leg cooked over an open flame, The Australian cached the cassowary outside the camp’s barrier wall. A feast pursued upon removing the giant drumstick from its spindle. It was the first meal The Australian was actually looking forward to eating. He ate until he could eat no more, then fell asleep as the fat rushed through his body.

Waking up the next day, he felt rejuvenated and well nourished. The fire had died, leaving a smoldering pile and a partially collapsed wood spindle. Scraps of the cooked bird leg were scattered around the camp. A line marked into the ground cut across the center of camp. Investigating further, The Australian followed the sign back to his food cache nearby. The bird was gone, leaving only a trail of feathers leading into the vegetation. A low rumble starting somewhere beyond confirmed the source of the thievery. A young crocodile had walked straight past The Australian as he slept, claiming the bird as its own. The presence of a crocodile marked the end of his stay in the eucalyptus grove. It was only then that The Australian knew he must move on. As The Australian gathered his belongings, a larger, more aggressive crocodile slid down a hill toward the cache. Two more crocodiles were spotted far from water in the vegetation on his way out. It was the smell of the cooked cassowary that had acted as a beacon for the apex predators.

The Australian located a nearby waterway from which the crocodiles must have came. Most likely an offshoot of the karst spring network, the water was covered in leaves with a stagnant tinge. By following the flow of water, he moved deep into the bush. The stagnant water began to clear after a naturally formed dam of fallen branches was passed. As expected, the water moved downward, providing a fundamental navigator to lower ground. There was no telling where the water would lead other than toward the coast or possibly back into the karst.

Psychologically, everything The Australian did revolved around survival. Being alone for so long had made him resilient physically, but emotional stress had hindered logical thought processes to a degree. Reminiscing back to something he and his companion had said, “follow it to the end,” was a key motivator to life en route. Due to a locational misidentification of the city he had seen from the cliff, he placed himself further south than he actually was. Since leaving Undara Volcano National Park, The Australian had traveled 300 miles to the northeast. Believing himself to be north of Cairns, The Australian set a course to intersect a well-traveled highway he had been on once during a family road trip. In reality, The Australian was due north of a city called Cooktown, which shared similar landmarks. By identifying airplanes traveling toward an airstrip and the sheltered geographical location, The Australian had confused the two cities, a mistake that ultimately became the catalyst for his departure off the continent completely.

In The Australian’s mind, by traveling west he would eventually come to a northbound highway. What ended up happening instead was that The Australian was walking in an area between Cooktown and a small outskirt settlement named Hope Vale. Missing the town by only three miles, The Australian walked past unknowingly, then crossed a dirt road and back into the bush. By nightfall, he was fully immersed in wilderness. At daybreak, he continued walking until he found a freshwater spring pool surrounded by a karst cave formation. Water poured over the top of the rocks, creating a small waterfall that trickled into a pool below. The sheltered area provided a secure camping location and drinking water. Feeling as though he should have reached the highway, The Australian second-guessed his position.

As The Australian slept, he felt movement alongside his stomach and legs, causing him to jolt upward, shouting from deep sleep. There was a sound like a rock being dropped into water, but upon waking The Australian could see nothing, a short time later he fell back asleep. Feeling the same sensation as before, The Australian sprang upright. This time, it sounded like someone had thrown a handful of rocks into the pool. His whole body was moist with a slight oil layer, The Australian lay awake with his eyes closed. Feeling that he was not alone, The Australian laid completely still with a T-shirt over his midsection. Within a few minutes, padding footsteps were heard from the pool, then felt something nuzzling close to The Australian’s leg. The Australian pulled his shirt tight, using the middle as a trap net. The cloth started writhing as the animal made an effort to free itself. When The Australian’s hands wrapped around the T-shirt, he was poked on his palm, letting the shirt loose. A small beak poked from under the pile of cloth. The Australian pinched a corner of the T-shirt and pulled back. A tiny webbed-toed creature with a nose like a duck scrambled onto its stomach, then shot forward with lightning-fast speed back into the water pool. The Australian had never seen a platypus in the wild before; amused with the behavior being displayed, he laid down again, keeping his eyes closed while remaining still. A few minutes passed before he heard a distinct waddling shuffle coming from the pool. Seconds later, a wet beak squeezing into the space between The Australian’s arm and the ground. Just as the first one did, more platypuses began leaving the water and piling onto The Australian. The feeling was like having a wet cat curl up next to you in bed. The platypuses paid no attention to personal space as more emerged from the spring pool. The Australian couldn’t help but smile. When lifting an arm to change position, the platypuses launched off The Australian and returned to the water. All fear of a wild crocodile or monitor lizard vanished. The Australian positioned himself in a comfortable sleeping pose and closed his eyes. As he expected, the platypuses returned, wedging themselves along the contours of his body, claiming every available space. Eventually, The Australian fell back asleep covered head to toe in a platypus blanket.

The Australian woke up to his hand swelling in pain. Sunlight had broken the horizon, and all but one platypus had entered the water pool. The platypus showed little fear of The Australian. Instead, it was licking the wound on his palm. His hand had swollen, resembling a latex glove that had air blown into the bottom while worn. The small platypus continued to treat his injury as if it were grooming itself. The pool in front of him was alive with activity as platypuses surfaced, then dived back below the water. Along the outer edge of the pool, platypuses sat idle, grooming themselves, then darting into the water. The sight was unlike anything he had ever seen. There must have been over fifty platypuses inside the pool all at once. The Australian sat up cross-legged, watching the frantic interactions unfold around him. Platypuses would exit the water, waddle over to his side without hesitation, and begin cleaning themselves. The platypus licking his hand had now climbed into his lap, paying no attention to The Australian. It was as though he had become part of the tribe.

While observing the pool of water, The Australian noticed a high number of prawns at the bottom. The Australian entered the water, dived under, and began collecting the crustaceans. By lifting a rock from below, a chain reaction of splashing came from behind. Immediately, every platypus in the pool had surrounded The Australian in a feeding frenzy. Through the surface, dark brown streaks shot past The Australian’s feet and hands. Every time a rock was lifted or The Australian managed to catch a prawn, he was swarmed by an onslaught of platypuses. With the stiff competition, every prawn caught was brought out of the water and placed on a ledge outside the reach of the group.

The Australian enjoyed being near the platypus pool. Every day was interesting. Within a few days, the creatures lost the fear of human presence and started following The Australian around the area. The pool itself was out of the ordinary for a platypus sanctuary. Other than the abundant food, the area seemed outside the animals’ natural habitat. It looked like they had become trapped after being washed out by monsoon flooding. All around the pool were rocks, with very little soil to burrow in. The platypus became an early warning system for The Australian. Any time something larger wandered into the area, the platypuses scattered to the water. The Australian played his part within the community by lifting rocks and scaring away a monitor lizard that frequently patrolled the stream. One morning, The Australian woke to find every platypus in the puddle lining the shore, making grunting sounds. Each one was facing a small crocodile floating on the surface. Not wanting to share the pool with a crocodile, The Australian ambushed it with a rock while it basked in the sun. The meat provided a low-effort, high-protein meal compared to the group prawn hunts with the platypus.

The rock garden was a small refuge in the short term. High thunderheads reaching far into the sky marked the beginning of the rainy season. Although The Australian had grown fond of the pool, the exposed rocks provided little cover in a torrential downpour. Eventually, the area would become a flash-flood zone. Sensing it was time to go, The Australian gathered the gear he had left and began walking out. A short time later, The Australian reached a dirt patch and continued southwest toward what he thought would be the highway. As he stopped to drink, The Australian noticed two brown dots moving toward him on the ground. Like two fish out of water, a pair of platypuses moving over dry ground caught up with The Australian. Using his satchel like a cave entrance, The Australian laid the bag in front of the two nomad platypuses as they climbed inside. Now over a mile away from the rock pool, going back now would exert valuable energy The Australian did not have. The two seemed comfortable traveling inside the pack, making the stowaway platypuses welcomed guests. A mental note was made to just set them free at the next water source.

As expected, rain started to fall from the sky. Streaks of light cut through the atmosphere as The Australian searched for cover along a cliffside gorge. A deep cut into the cliff provided a partial ceiling as the heavy rain intensified. Although the space would be an ill-advised location for any survival expert, it was the only dry space within close proximity. At the entrance was the rock garden wash The Australian had been following. Beyond the entrance was a transitional sunburnt expanse with sparse tree cover. The small slot canyon cut into the elevated sandstone cliff. On the bottom was sediment and rock, while the top was covered with exposed roots from nearby shrubs and trees. Water poured over the edges from above on either side. An overhanging section 500 feet from the opening allowed The Australian to duck underneath, away of the rain. All day and all night, the storm battered the land, turning the previously dry wash into a raging torrent. Brown water filled with sediment poured through from higher elevations, following the trail of rocks and sand. Unable to sleep, The Australian watched the murky water rise around him. By morning, the overhang refuge was reduced to a small island with only enough room to squat. From outside the cut, a depression at the entrance was now a body of water. For the next two days, scattered rainstorms pinned The Australian from exiting the canyon.

Eventually, the dark clouds and thunder moved past, turning the sky into an overcast grey. With nothing dry left to stand on, The Australian perched in a layer of water. Soaked to the bone, The Australian probed for rocks beneath the water to stand on while making an attempt to free himself from the flooded canyon. The wash entrance was now unrecognizable from before. A pool of water over one hundred feet across had formed at the mouth. Flash flooding brought with it predators from above. Saltwater crocodiles lined the bank with their mouths open as they basked for warmth. Majority were juvenile crocodiles, with the exception of one alpha dwarfing all others. From inside his satchel, The Australian could hear grunts from the platypus. Without seeing the crocodiles, the platypuses had picked up the electro-responsive signals, providing an early warning signal.

Bubbles from the pool made a line toward The Australian while he stood on the partially exposed rock marking the entrance to the canyon. Water broke in front of the rocks as a crocodile launched an attack. With his aluminum oxygen tank placed between himself and the crocodile, The Australian fell backward awkwardly onto rocks. Losing all composure, The Australian  splashed back into the canyon, stumbling over submerged boulders as he crashed through the flooded hallway. It would only be a matter of time before the crocodiles found a way over the entrance wall. Acting in desperate urgency, The Australian passed by his roost as he looked for a way up the soak gorge walls. Deeper inside the canyon, a wall on his right gave a shallow enough angle to scale. Leaving his gear below, The Australian attached a rope around his wrist and began climbing. The first attempt ended in disaster and the wall crumbled beneath his feet, sending The Australian falling backward into the shallow water. Rethinking his approach, The Australian climbed to the point where the wall collapsed, then threw a rope around a root protruding from the upper edge. After many failed attempts to reach the top, the wall had changed shape from a steep angle to a sheer upper wall with an indented rut. Believing the wall to be beyond his abilities, The Australian made a final attempt. The Australian ran forward up the base of the wall, planted a foot into the indentation, catching a clump of roots with his hand. By using the tree roots, The Australian pulled himself up the remaining distance until he was able to put an arm over the upper edge. By placing his hand at the base of the tree, The Australian pulled forward, sliding over the edge on his stomach. After a moment of pause, he grabbed the rope connected to his gear and hoisted it up.

The difference between here and there was like a step into a new world. On one side, an extensive savanna stretched out over the lowlands. On the other, an elevated mesa thick with trees. What was supposed to be a journey to a widely used highway had turned into The Australian guessing where he was on the map. Up above the chasm became disorienting as the mixed stone platform began pushing an eastern path. Trapped between a chasm, a cliff, and a now-flowing river wash, The Australian cut a path through the middle of the trees. The mix of marbled carbonate, dolomite, and sandstone was speckled with reefal limestone, a transitional anomaly found in prehistoric sediment foothill belts. Now moving slightly higher in elevation, the ground created narrow pathways through the trees. Each channel sank into the forest floor, leaving a trail of loose rocks along the bed. Pulled down by flowing water from above, the rocks acted as stepping stones through the forest. Ill-equipped for life on the surface, The Australian survived mostly on grubs from fallen trees and ungodly sized spiders that cast webs across the trees. Refusing to eat his platypuses, The Australian shared meals with the two as he foraged. For the first time since The Australian began the migration, he felt thirsty. Although the rainstorm had left dew beaded along the leaves, moving water was hard to come by. Puddles were a thick mess of brownish-red sediment, providing very little drinkable liquid. A few larger puddles were occupied by small mud-covered crocodiles washed down from the rain. The Australian began moving gradually higher, following the rutted trail of stones.

As the ground leveled, the stone path widened. Rocks and fallen leaves covered the hillside in front of him. Once fully exiting the trailhead, The Australian looked back across the shrub-bed horizon, seeing not one, but many runoff pathways emulating the trail he had just climbed. The land bore large eucalyptus spread widely over an open space. Large numbers of kangaroos and smaller wallabies dotted the outer edges of the upper hillside tree line. Entering into the open vista was a welcome change from the sparseness of the lowlands. After days of eating only grubs and spiders, The Australian focused his attention on devising a way to secure a marsupial for food.

A small pop-up camp and a fire ring were set between three closely rooted trees. The Australian’s primitive hunting strategy to procure a kangaroo had digressed into him hiding behind a tree, then throwing a rock while holding a stick whenever a kangaroo came close. The plan to stun the kangaroo with a rock, then attack it with the stick, was good in theory, but failed to produce results. Kangaroos passing by were too fast and agile. The closest The Australian came was missing with the rock, then throwing the stick like a boomerang as he chased it, hitting the roo as it bounced past. Although the process of tracking oncoming kangaroos left The Australian winded, his efforts were rewarded after a wombat strayed too close to the hiding tree. The Australian, seizing the opportunity presented, was able to chase the wombat down. Overpowering the small marsupial was not easily accomplished, as the wombat fought back against him. As though the hunter had become the hunted, the wombat chased The Australian to a fallen tree. The Australian eventually regained control as the wombat, succumbing to a fatal wound, lay dead on the opposite side. With every life taken, a feeling of remorse swept through The Australian as he apologized to the wombat. The apologies were short-lived as The Australian carried the wombat on his back like a backpack to camp, holding its little legs like straps over each shoulder. Rich in fats and protein, the meat brought rejuvenation to The Australian’s body.

Survival was a day-to-day battle, for if it was not food, then it was water. The serious nature of The Australian’s expedition had left him battered, but he held on to the hope that his experience would one day inspire countless generations. The Australian had solidified his place amongst the greatest geologist spelunkers in history. All The Australian needed to do was hang on until rescue arrived to tell his story. On top of the vista, The Australian looked out over the lowlands below. It had become obvious that his initial assessment of being boxed between connecting highways was wrong. The Australian began to contemplate a general sense of where he was, figuring that he was now at the base of the Cape York Peninsula, the town he had viewed would have to be farther north than Cairns. Fixing the navigational error, The Australian concluded that he must go southeast, backtracking toward more inhabited building zones.

The days spent on the vista gave The Australian time to prepare for the long walk back. He smoked meat from the wombat and from a second wombat he managed to procure. With a fortified food supply, The Australians chances of rescue increased dramatically. A small stream was located along the upper hillside where the kangaroos gathered. The water had become foul from constant use, sending The Australian searching for a secondary option. Directly up the hill from the camp, a rock depression opened into a hole in the ground. The unique feature was only noticed after The Australian witnessed a wallaby emerging from below the surface. Inside the dropout was a spring forty feet from the entrance. By crawling into the narrow pathway, The Australian filled his canteen as he drank face first from the moving water.

The sky was grey, with monsoon thunderheads in the distance. Preparations for the long-distance walk were cut short by an ominous forecast. Although the rain appeared to be miles away, risking being caught out in the open provoked a decision to wait out the storm. A fire with a smoker was built on the outer ring of the spring tunnel as The Australian laid inside. For three days, The Australian smoked meat from the wombats. It had not occurred to The Australian until after his hunger subsided that the isolated location the wombats were found in was unusual. It was common knowledge that wombats were only found south of the Cape. Inside the inner chamber of the groundwater spring was a smaller tunnel no more than a foot and a half wide. To The Australian, after everything he had witnessed inside the caverns, it made sense that they must have traveled below ground. A plausible explanation of an animal traversing a similar network of interconnected underground pathways, then reemerging due to perceptive sensory adaptations, did not seem far from the truth.

As the day broke, the sun dawned to clear skies. The Australian packed his belongings and finished storing the dried meat. Leaving his gear inside the mouth of the dropout, The Australian walked over to a tree to relieve himself. With everything ready for the final leg of his journey, The Australian believed today was the day he headed home. While perched at the base of a tree, The Australian felt liquid filling in around his feet. The slow trickle grew rapidly, covering one foot, then spreading to the other. Leaves began to lift, moving down the hill as a thin layer of water coated the hillside. Every direction he looked, water filled the landscape. Rocks began to catch the current, rolling as the deepening surface moved with the flow. Like a wave breaking on a shoreline, the leaf-littered surface rippled with each oncoming pulse. The Australian stepped through a slurry of ankle-deep water rushing over his feet, then turned, looking upward from behind the tree. Sounds of a natural ambient forest were replaced with a distant roar. The noise from far away sounded like a jetliner preparing to take off. Now running, The Australian, horrified by the sudden change, made a line across the racing hillside. Cracking branches broke his gaze at the mouth of the tunnel. The Australian turned his attention up the hill. A wall of sandy white water turned rocks into projectiles as they bounced between earth and water. The wall hummed as it covered everything in its path, unforgivingly claiming the land into its possession. The last thing The Australian saw before ducking inside the trunk spring tunnel was water higher than he was tall, casting rocks into the air around him.

Jumping inside the tunnel, The Australian had only enough time to hug his gear. The roar vanished into suppression and the sky disappeared. Rushing water filled the space, muting life as he knew it. The force of the current pushed him deeper into the narrow tunnel. The Australian, sliding headfirst, bent and crumpled within the small space, causing his feet to take the lead. His body pinched between the walls, sending him into the black. Scratching at the sides of the tunnel to fight the break, The Australian let go in defeat. Stuck between two sides, The Australian’s body became a plug, causing pressure to build against his face, time became irrelevant as he held on to his remaining breath. With a final spastic kick, The Australian released and inhaled. As the water filled his lungs, The Australian lurched his midsection forward toward his knees. The change in angle caused a slight shift within the foundation of the tunnel. Pressure built up from the water and shot him forward, choking. Air filled The Australian’s lungs as water was expelled, inhaling into a momentary break in the deluge. The Australian’s body gained speed, hitting the top of the tunnel, then was forced under again. A narrow gap of air along the upper wall of the tube allowed for shallow breaths while The Australian fought to remain conscious. Sliding further into the dark, The Australian bounced blindly off walls and continued to be swept underground.

Riding the water on his back, The Australian struggled to keep his face and head from hitting the top of the tube. Without being able to see, on numerous occasions the ceiling scraped past The Australian’s face, chipping teeth as the momentum carried him forward. What seemed like forever sliding down a natural drain ended abruptly in a cut then dropped out completely. For nearly a mile, The Australian had been flushed back into the earth. Water left The Australian’s back, replaced by air and gravity. The fall was fast and sudden, lit up by an illuminated streak of neon green. Water broke around his feet, then traveled over The Australian’s head. Now moving in a swift, deep-moving current, The Australian surfaced to the glow. Pale cyan, with a greenish-yellow tint, covered the wall and ceiling. Still poorly lit, the master channel provided enough light to see the surface of the water surrounding him. Everything he owned was now floating or sinking in the water-catch river. The first item to appear was the oxygen tank, then a dry bag. Loose objects floated over the surface, bobbing alongside as The Australian treaded in the undertow. One of the two platypuses slapped the water next to him, floating with him for a minute, then disappeared below the surface. Gathering what he could, The Australian floated onward until a hooked outcrop extending into the water reduced the current. The swirling hook-shaped protrusion provided a safe harbor against the fast moving water inside the channel. Climbing out of the water, The Australian took inventory in the shadows of the eerie glow.

The Australian’s rope was gone, as well as the base of the carbide lantern. The bulk food stores and satchel were nowhere to be found. Inside the dry bag were the reflective lantern cone and calcium carbide tin, a metal shard, a golden nugget, and a large garnet. Connected to the oxygen vest was The Australian’s drinking thermos and cooking cup. Water from the channel-canal continued to fly past only a few feet away as he examined the few remaining essential items. Bioluminescent droplets fell around The Australian as he crouched on one knee, staring at the items laid out across the surface. The tiny blue light started to move, slowly wiggling in place, as The Australian pinched one between his fingers for a closer look. It was like a little weevil-worm with a glowing band of blue light along its body.

Fast-moving water funneled into an overhanging ceiling, then disappeared. The small rock where The Australian sat provided no chance of movement. Securing his belongings, The Australian dipped back into the water, pulled himself out into the outer edge, and let himself go. Within a second, the rock platform disappeared and the water carried The Australian onward. By skimming along the outer wall, the speed at which The Australian traveled could be manipulated in his favor. Searching for a larger platform, The Australian floated through the channel for over an hour. An exaggerated point cut the river in two. Along the wall, the water merged with the point in a triangle-shaped inlet. At the end of the intersecting rock, a near-empty satchel floated on the surface. Only a small amount of wombat jerky The Australian had left for the platypuses and a cap from his carbide lantern remained. The Australian pulled himself onto the extended stone surface. In the glow, shapes could been seen moving from beyond the faint-light. Sitting on the ground, The Australian felt weight press against his leg, then a second wet pressure wedged itself against his thigh. Reuniting with his platypuses brought tears to The Australian’s eyes. Once again, The Australian found himself trapped underground, stuck, but not alone.

Movement on the opposite end of the platform kept The Australian on edge. Every so often, what looked like small shadowy boulders moved along the illuminated floor. By using a metal cup, cotton fabric, and the remaining pieces from the carbide lantern, The Australian crafted a carbide lamp. The familiar firelight filled the room as the flame, pointing upward, was carried by the cup’s handle. Investigating the movement on the platform, The Australian walked along the wall slowly. Stone-covered ground stretched farther than he could see. Much larger than previously expected, The Australian continued on for hundreds of meters. Wombats, as far as The Australian could see, lined the riverside shoreline. As The Australian progressed, he counted two kangaroos, ten wallabies, a bush-tail possum, and a lace monitor. The whole entire area was filled with marsupials, with the exception of the large lizard. Each animal paid little attention to The Australians presence as he passed by. All the marsupials appeared to be licking the ground. Glow worms and a slippery green film covering the floor provided a supplementary food chain to support a small underground ecosystem. The Australian retreated back to his end of the platform. Even with an abundant presence of wildlife, the rock bed offered little protection from the inhabitants. Figuring out a plan of action would require reentering the water. Desperate for food, The Australian secured a wombat and began to process what he could, cooking small sections over a tiny flame. Within a day, the smell had attracted the large monitor lizard, who dragged the wombat away while The Australian slept.

With the lizard encroaching on The Australian’s territory, the time had come to leave. Upon leaving the rock-bed platform, The Australian entered into the outer peninsula, letting the pull of the water carry him downstream. To The Australians surprise, the platypuses followed suit, appearing next to him as he floated. The marsupial-covered shoreline passed by swiftly, showing the full scale of its inhabitants. Still transfixed on the ground, tiny silhouettes flashed past. A moment later, they were gone as The Australian passed into a walled-off channel. Along the way, more rock-bed platforms with the same characteristics appeared and disappeared. This continued on for hours as the three rode the current in hopes of a space they could call their own.

Unlike the master conduit, small rock exit points provided dry resting areas while en route. For two days The Australian floated, exiting the waterway only when opportunities became possible. Deep inside the master channel, the water trended northeast toward the coast. Desperate to find a way out, The Australian moved through the darkness, suspended on the surface by an oxygen tank and an air-filled dry bag.

On the second day, The Australian had already traveled over 50 miles towards the coast. Although unaware of his exact location, The Australian was now directly below the Queensland Government National Park. As the rocky tunnel transitioned back into karst caverns, the river split in two. On one side, the luminous glow worms lit a path into deeper corridors. On the other, a sparse collection hung at the entrance, then seemed to disappear. Looking at both sides, The Australian was being forced left into the dark waterway. A momentary decision to swim to the right, into the glowing corridor, set in motion a chain of events that would go untold for the next 54 years. With the presence of glow worms acting as a biological indicator of airflow and oxygen, the glowing worms were a key factor in The Australians survival in a subterranean world. Fighting to stay in the light, the gap was closed into slow-moving water. A calm surface reflected powder-blue orbs as The Australian passed under mega colonies of glowing worms. The density of the worms lit the water enough to see clearly in a tinted blue hue. As expected, the platypuses followed; One, then the other, floated alongside The Australian. With a gentle pull from the current, the three hardly moved at all as the water carried them through the limestone cavern. Long strands draped from the ceiling above dripped electric blue as individual worms dropped into the water. Each worm was consumed from below while the platypuses fed. The Australian, grabbing a tiny glowing worm off the surface, placed it slowly on his tongue, then gagged. A horrible sound of dry heaving and gargling echoed over the water and through the cave, breaking the serene ambiance.

Within an hour, the water’s current lessened, turning into a small seep between narrow fissures, dispersing the river into the walls. Now kicking over the bottom in waist-deep water, a calcified beach marked the end of the transit. Once out of the water, the space opened to a maze of light-blue columns and pools. Mineralization formed oval-shaped archways, separating one chamber from the next. The near-identical similarities of the rooms and their reflective drip pools created optical illusions as The Australian moved onto elevated ground. Fractal mimicry through geological repetition mixed the luminescence at various perceptive angle depths formed a “hall of mirrors”-like foreground. Taking a moment to recollect, The Australian peeked through each viable window. Enormous chambers filled with small drip-water basins along the floor appeared to be moving. Electric-blue ripples from millions of randomized drips hit the surface of the basins, causing water to bounce and shadows to flux against the walls. It was a mesmerizing display that left The Australian disoriented as he looked across the synchronized procession.

The sensory deprivation overload caused his ears to ring. Dripping reverberated in rhythmic patterns, bouncing off the walls in combination with a natural quantum-dot-node bioluminescence that sent The Australian spinning. Closing his eyes, he laid down above the beach and slept. The platypuses, at some point during his unconsciousness, had made their way back into his satchel. Low grunts brought The Australian back to reality. Scanning the water, he noticed an abnormal arching in the water. Behind the spiny lump, a long ripple cut over the surface. Two crocodiles had entered into the channel, breaking the seclusion. Without wanting to spend more time than necessary close to the apex predators, The Australian grabbed his gear and moved through the largest archway.

Hastily moving through the extravagant drip chamber, The Australian spent little time fixating on the optical marvel. By the time The Australian reached the chamber’s opposite side, one of the crocodiles was already moving through the archway entrance. Most likely following the smell of meat from the wombats, the crocodile was more than interested in pursuing The Australian. Not wanting to become trapped, The Australian followed the path with the largest openings and the most glowing worms. Hoping the crocodile would lose interest, The Australian moved from chamber to chamber, then waited on the other side to see if the crocodile appeared. Relentless in its effort for food, the crocodile always seemed to be right behind him. Even with steep slopes and walled steps provided obstacles for the beast, it always found a way through. While moving through narrowing walls, the karst caverns limited accessible routes. Winding hallways stopped abruptly, causing The Australian to retrace his steps to find a way around. Losing his bearings traveling from one corridor to the next, each wrong choice resulted in confusion of where The Australian was and once was. Looking at the twisted caverns from an opposite angle played tricks with on the mind. Time was nonexistent as The Australian hurriedly ventured through dark passageways, knowing he was being hunted. The maze of openings gave many options of where to go, but only a few provided a way forward. Trying to memorize geological features offered little help in the lamplight. Fearing he was going in circles, rocks and markings left in front of each opening prevented The Australian from reentering the same path twice.

Claws scraping against mineralized floors, low hissing rumbles, and the sound of tails dragging over the surface carried long distances through the caves. A cat-and-mouse game had digressed into dissociative echoing as The Australian struggled to gauge the crocodile’s distance. Although he couldn’t see it, The Australian knew the crocodile was only a few openings away. Now moving as fast as he could down a small outlet, The Australian came to a wall with a small opening. Checking the size with his arms, then head, The Australian was unable to fit all the way through without getting stuck. Desperate to get into the next room over, The Australian used his oxygen tank to hit and break the opening wider. Through the hole, a large chamber sat idle, tantalizingly close, but unavailable to reach. As The Australian hit the wall, the strong mineral layer refused to break loose. The platypuses continued to grunt from inside the satchel. In the glow of the carbide lamp’s torchlight, a primal figure turned the corner. Reptilian eyes flickered yellow, showing no emotion other than a desire to feed. Although the crocodile was not extremely large, the size was formidable. It was faster and more determined to finish the pursuit. The Australian, with his back against the wall, held his aluminum tank as a protective barrier. Making its move, the crocodile raced forward. In a moment of clarity, The Australian tapped the tank on the ground to his right, pressing his hand against the top and pushed away to the left. Jumping flat against the wall as the crocodile snapped at the tank, The Australian pulled away, pulling the air tank with him. Running down the hall to the next corridor, The Australian threw his wombat meat on the ground as a diversion.

Believing himself to be temporarily safe, The Australian stopped to breathe outside the corridor’s entrance. Wondering what to do next, The Australian looked around the room, then heard a small “ting” as he picked up the oxygen tank by his side. Teeth from open jaws wrapped around the oxygen tank. Looking down, a much larger mouth had clamped on to the oxygen-tank. On each side of The Australian’s leg, ragged teeth held suspended by the oxygen tank surrounded him. A mature crocodile had caught him off guard, launching a silent assault on his aluminum air-tank. Shaking the tank, the crocodile’s mouth knocked The Australian on his back as it leveled. The Australian’s leg sat elevated in the air with a row of teeth pressed against his calf. Although by chance the pressure had concentrated on the metal air tank, The Australian’s leg had caught an awkward position between the tank and the snout. To free himself, he either had to pull his leg out past the snout or through the middle. The croc, not wanting to let go, paused as it wound up for the next round of thrashing. Anticipating a violent combination, The Australian pointed his toe and rolled to his left, freeing himself. Now lying on his stomach, The Australian began rolling in the same direction toward his makeshift lamp.

The reflective lanterns top pressed onto the top of the metal cup had fallen off, leaving the calcium carbide wrapped in wet cloth exposed. Acetylene gas emitted an open flame as it burned through the fabric stretched over the open end of the cup. Unregulated oxygen caused a flame to spill out sideways over the cave floor. The metal handle seared The Australian’s finger as the cup was picked up and swung forward in a pouring motion. Too hot to handle, The Australian released the cup at the apex of an upward arc, spilling a stream of fire followed by the metal cup at the crocodile’s face. The calcium carbide hit first, spreading small fiery dots across the croc’s face and the floor. A hollow metallic “donk” echoed through the chamber as the cup bounced off the top of the crocodile’s hard head, then fell to the ground. The oxygen tank was sent flying toward a patch of stalagmites as the crocodile bellowed, shaking its head wildly. Amidst the chaos, The Australian attempted to collect what was not already attached before fleeing, reclaiming the oxygen tank and reflective lantern cover as he made his escape.

Without torchlight, the dark halls were navigated by glow worm colonies and short flashes from the ignitor flint alone. Bumping into columns and walls as his eyes adjusted to the dim blue glow, The Australian followed the hanging strands where they glowed brightest. Whenever The Australian came to a dark space, a small amount of calcium carbide was sprinkled on the ground, then lit with the sparker built into the lantern head. Inside a darkened room, tunnels branched into a crossroads, three paths stood level, while a single archway opened double overhead. Gambling on the leverage of escaping the pursuing crocodiles, The Australian scaled the wall after throwing his aluminum tank into the raised pathway. Breathing in a sense of relief, he sat in the upper deck as the crocodiles entered the room. To his surprise, three crocs pushed their way into the lower chamber. A moment later, the fourth and largest crocodile followed. Recognizable by the burn mark around the eye, the crocodile climbed over the others and positioned itself directly below the ledge. The risk had paid off for The Australian, leaving the crocodiles trapped in the space below.

For the first time since leaving the beach, the platypuses began to calm down, with the constant grunting turning to silence. Seeing this as a sign to stop, The Australian collapsed onto the ground, laying his head down on the floor, and slept. Waking up with a jump to something touched his nose, he started flicking his flint in fear that the crocodiles had found a way around the wall. The space was empty. The platypuses were inside their bag. Nothing was out of the ordinary at a glance. A buzzing sound around the ear revealed the culprit. Flashing the flint at the ground, The Australian noticed tiny black dots over his bag. Flies were present in high numbers. Although not unheard of, the thought of a nearby exit came to mind. Continuing on his way through the upper high-road hall was relatively easy compared to the karst maze below. The brightest path so far had steered The Australian into wide hallways with little resistance or blockages. Glow worm colonies clung to every available space and the flies began to thicken. Drip strands passed over The Australian’s face, causing flies to stick to his skin and hair. Soon it felt like a brawny beard of flies had formed over The Australian’s chin and lips. With each step, the floor compressed, then turned neon blue due to the density of glowing worms.

Turning into an open arch strewn with glow worm strands, a river of radiant blue light cut down the center of the chamber. Every inch of viable space was occupied by glowing worms and flies. A river carrying glow worms from somewhere beyond view sent an endless flow of bioluminescence forward into the karst. Trillions of tiny luminous worms swept downstream, causing the river to pulsate light as they passed. Shocked and amazed, The Australian moved closer to the edge.

A natural phenomenon caused by groundwater aquifer flow dynamics, fauna integration, and decomposition created the perfect breeding environment for both flies and glow worm habitation. On the water’s edge, it was clear that beauty came at a cost. Animals floated by in a ghostly manner, one species after the other. Cast down from above into various waterways, the haunted passengers converged into narrowing collection chambers, backing up the natural aquifer. Rivers, seasonal flash floods, disappearing springs, and other natural entry points continued the cycle indefinitely. The ghastly river never stopped glowing. The Australian stared into the water, transfixed by the volume. In this space, as a result of favorable variables, two monolithic species reigned over all others.

Navigating through the worm-cast cavern was a slow process. Each step sank deep, leaving a trail of bioluminescent blue rings across the floor. The Australian stepped onto an uneven surface to feel it move under his feet. A glowing blur sprang up from under the sticky strands, uncovering a crocodile imprisoned beneath the fallout. A blue streak shot through the ground surrounding the fully encased creature. Unable to fully open its mouth or move efficiently, the mound throbbed ominously as The Australian redirected his path.

Continuing through the endless silk wasteland along the river, The Australian finally found a table-like rock to rest. Every part of him glowed blue as he moved onto the flat surface. With only one glow worm on top of the rock face, it provided a small island free of silk. Within a minute of lying down, The Australian’s platypus satchel rolled over and off the rock. Something had driven the two animals into a state of panic, as the platypuses squeezed through the opening, then bolted across the surrounding rocks onto the silk, then stopped. One platypus remained 50 feet away while the other ran towards the river, never to be seen again. Leaving the rock, The Australian laid down the satchel on the ground. As usual, the platypus entered. He picked up the bag and walked back towards the rock oasis. Just as before, once near the rock the platypus began shaking the satchel, breached the bag, then ran back onto the silk. The Australian returned with the satchel, left it on the ground, and walked back to the rock empty-handed.

Confused at what was happening, he looked to the walls, noticing lines of granite free of the glowing worms. Everywhere the granite was, the glow vanished. It suddenly dawned on him — phosphorus. In the presence of granite and fossilization, radiation can be present in the form of phosphorus layers. The patchy walls acted as a visual indicator. The platypus, however, sensitive to electromagnetic fields and chemotaxis, acted as a canary system. It was enough evidence to set The Australian back into the silk-stream causeway. Undoubtedly receiving a heavy dose of radiation, The Australian left the rock feeling wary about future side effects if he were to survive the ordeal.

Taking this as a warning to proceed with caution, a general census of fundamental principles was taken into account. Even though The Australian had been lucky so far, he knew what potential dangers subterranean exploration brought about. Experiencing these natural cave-specific dangers firsthand was far more passive than previously thought. Without warning signs or precautionary boundaries, The Australian was on his own. Picking up the satchel on his exit, The Australian was relieved to find his now lone platypus friend inside. The Australian’s kinship with the creature was one of mutual respect. For whatever reason, the small platypus stayed close, saving his life now on multiple occasions. As miner is to canary, a justifiable parallel would be platypus to the spelunker. Even with every opportunity to leave, she stayed by The Australians side. Up to that point, a good rule of thumb would be: follow the glow worms and trust your platypus.

The Australian stayed close to the river, avoiding the outer edges of the transitional granite. Staying within the safety of the colonies, The Australian walked through the silk bog using his oxygen tank as a crutch. Eventually, the ground hardened, but never to the sedimentary layer. Hundreds of thousands of years, if not millions, had turned the entire karst system into a spindle. Although it was easier to walk, the smell was unbearable. Animals that had been washed down into the collection chamber became surrogates to larvae as the silk strands dropped down from the ceiling. Entire colonies were dragged downriver as the hosts moved with the current. The water offered little resource. Undoubtedly contaminated by bacteria, would cause illness if drunk. Large colony mounds drifted in the slowing current, bouncing aimlessly off the banks and repositioning to form a queue with other blue mounds. A sight more aligned with Greek mythology’s River Styx. Fighting the urge of thirst and hunger, The Australian pushed on. The grim blue glow marked each life lost. Wherever God was, it surely wasn’t here.

A break into a karst tunnel broke the view of the river, sending The Australian slightly upward. Low sub-frequency rattled his eyes as it pushed air molecules together. The Australian had never in his entire life felt a subsonic force like what he had just felt. Shuddering at the sudden change in air pressure, The Australian gripped the walls, believing an earthquake was causing the cavern to collapse. As fast as it came, the sound vibration vanished, leaving The Australian reeling to find composure. The call was answered by a response. The air oscillated as velocity increased, then wound down back to silence. The tunnel had turned into a vent-cabinet speaker box. Following the sound, The Australian entered into a master-conduit shoreline. Struggling to process what he was looking at, The Australian watched as a wall began to move, with radiant blue gel replacing the space of where it was. Standing at a broken tunnel entrance overlooking a shoreline chamber The Australian stared at the wide glowing river below. Swirling cyan whirlpools formed as the dark backdrop exited behind a wall, then out of sight. In disbelief of what he was seeing, the final realization brought The Australian to his knees. Shaking uncontrollably as the monster moved out of sight, in disbelief The Australian sank to the ground as his leg collapsed beneath him.

Waking up to a foghorn drone sweeping through the halls, The Australian had fainted where he collapsed. Looking over the panoramic mineral surface below toward the river, two giant log-like shapes drifted with the flow, outlined in the blue glow, swimming side by side before slipping behind the wall. Goliath-sized crocodiles, bigger than he had ever seen, were dwarfed by the patrolling alpha that had caused The Australian’s panic attack. An avenue of giants hung in place like a framed picture. A two-way highway for nightmares, as more crocs entered, swimming against the current as they moved upstream. The Australian, seeing enough, moved past the lookout opening deeper into the system. An upward angle in the tunnel floor raised into a chamber above the master karst conduit. Looking into the room, the familiar sponge-like silk-covered ground. Throughout the chamber, mounds of loose silk stood vacant, piled like spun sugar, then abandoned. Crocodile sign surrounding the piled silk showed light on the nature of the abnormal hills. By poking the center with the metal shard, The Australian confirmed the dormant state. Under the surface layer, dried eggshells left to the hands of time filled the center. With the greater majority hatched, an odd few left suspended were collected. Biting down on the unhatched egg caused The Australian to gag as the foul contents shot out of the opposite side and through his fingers. Unable to take another bite, The Australian focused on the other mounds. Most of the nests looked like they had served their purpose years or even decades earlier. Even with a high concentration of nesting sites, the room was barren of crocodiles. Scavenging through the piles yielded nothing substantial other than a few beetles and dried hatchlings. The Australian made his way to the outer edge of the chamber, a recent nesting site uncovered fresh eggs. Suffering from severe dehydration and starvation, The Australian began eating the partially developed eggs raw.

An opening along the wall overlooked the master channel below. Looking over the edge, a pile of rocks leading to the opening was covered in white specks. Trying to make out the white stones through the dark, The Australian climbed a short distance down the rock pile to investigate. Along the upper section, compiled rubble slipped as small stones caused The Australian to slide. Sitting down on the loose hillside, The Australian’s feet dug into the stones to slow himself. The loose rock transitioned into broken limestone boulders. In the space between the rocks, crocodile bones filled the gaps. Picking up a crocodile skull, The Australian looked up toward the opening, noticing slide marks coming from the entrance opening, then branching out into other angles toward the river. Unable to gauge horizontal perception, the crocodiles had slid out of the cave’s entrance onto the crumbled limestone slope, then out over the rocks. Mangled crocodiles in various states of decay gave a momentary glimpse into the final trajectory. Reminiscent of a bobsled team, crocodiles had plowed on top of each other, stacked along the bottom. Each one exhibited the same lemming-like behavior. The Australian climbed the hill back into the elevated window to the chamber.

Cooking eggs on a metal cap from the carbide lantern, The Australian regained strength as he remained in the chamber, eating almost every egg possible over the course of two weeks. A seep spring on a wall provided enough water to lick until quenched. Each day, The Australian watched giant-sized prehistoric crocodiles navigate the waterway, disappear, then return moving in the opposite direction. One in particular outmatched all others in size and length. At an estimated 200 feet from nose to tail, the king of the river passed by, filling the cavern with low sub-frequency. Feeling like this must have been the same crocodile from his entrance, The Australian looked on as it moved against the glowing gel-like current. The Australian remained in the nest-roost cavern until an occupying crocodile entered the space from the entrance tunnel from which he came. Taking the last of the eggs, The Australian was forced to move onward.

Walking on solid limestone ground felt foreign after spending an extended amount of time on silk. The jagged edges dug into the bottoms of his feet, causing The Australian to move cautiously in the dark master conduit shoreline. Patches of granite were sought out to provide relief from the inhospitable texture of the karst. Every so often, deep rumbles bounced off the walls in the distance. There was no sense of direction or where to go next. After exploring the granite perimeter wall, The Australian  edged back towards the river as the walls curved. On the opposite side of the shoreline valley, a natural granite tower extended over the river. The Australian, not knowing what else to do, climbed the protruding slab structure. On the top, the surface was mildly flat, creating a bridge effect as it moved over the water. In the middle, a broken section prevented a complete transition to the opposite side of the master channel. Feeling his options dwindling, The Australian sat staring over the edge into the water below. From deep beyond view, a sound of the beast filled the air, causing small pieces of glow-worm-covered karst to drop from the ceiling above, scattering debris along the surface of the slab bridge. A glowing blue wake turned over onto itself grew near, slowly emerging from the pitch-black backdrop. Teeth and scales nearly filled one end of the river to the other. Glowing yellow eyes paid no attention to The Australian as they passed by directly below the bridge. Picking up his gear, The Australian; without a second thought, ran forward. Frilled spike scales passed below as The Australian jumped, falling through the darkness. The wind intensify as the subsonic vibration rattled The Australian’s eyes. Impact came suddenly, knocking the breath from his body as the low vibration shook his bones. With teeth chattering uncontrollably, the vibration ramped down and was replaced with the sound of water splashing as it parted. Sitting up, The Australian reached out for his oxygen tank while sliding sideways, rolling down the crocodile’s back toward the tail. A waterline behind the rear legs, lined with a wall of triangular scutes at the base of the tail, erupted when the tank hit. Smaller crocodiles hitching a ride on the giant broke the water’s surface, each one snapping at the aluminum oxygen tank floating on the surface.

Riding the giant crocodile reminded The Australian of a trip he had taken with his family aboard a car ferry. A stretch of water with dorsal scutes marking the outer edges was filled with ginormous crocodiles, each one respectively large under normal pretenses, but made to look tiny compared to their host. The space between the lower back and the tail’s base was like a steep hill, causing crocodiles attempting to climb out toward the upper pinnacle of the back to lose traction on the hardened scale plates, then slide backward into the water. A war had begun over the metal oxygen tank. The crocodile able to keep it inside its mouth was bombarded by other crocodiles until it either died or let go of the tank. The Australian counted four crocodiles who died trying to swallow the air tank. Comparable to a scrum at a rugby match, a pile would break out every time the tank resurfaced until a crocodile was able to break free with it in its mouth. A never-ending line of crocodiles attempted to reach The Australian on the upper shoulders.

One croc, who was finally able to get past a line of steep scutes on the lower back, made a break toward The Australian. The crocodiles had surprisingly little agility on top of a larger crocodile. The feet would slip multiple times in place before being able to move forward. Seeing the low friction as a weakness, The Australian moved as close to the edge as possible while holding onto a damaged scale. Once the crocodile reached the curved rib cage, unable to control the low-friction contact of crocodile skin on crocodile skin, it began to slide with gravity moving its weight downward. The large crocodile skidded down the slope and over the edge into the waterway below. Unable to sleep for more than a few hours until the sound vibration rattled The Australian awake, the ride was a constant show of everything crocodiles can do.

After a few days, more crocs made the climb up onto the upper back of the giant crocodile. Watching the crocs for long periods of time, The Australian began to find them predictable and repetitive, all he had to do was hang on to the bad scale on the edge and they would just fall off on their own. The water next to the king-alpha became a who’s-who of fallen crocodiles, now forced to swim alongside.

Even after losing the initial fear of close crocodile encounters, The Australian remained vigilant. A stroke of luck came when a crocodile brought his oxygen tank up from the tail pool inside its mouth. Not wanting to lose his air tank, The Australian approached the croc head-on before sending it over the edge. Using his metal shard, The Australian tapped the ground near the crocodile as it positioned itself at the center of the back. A snapping reflex caused the oxygen tank to drop out of the mouth onto the hard scute center. In the way a matador would taunt a bull, The Australian tapped the metal on the ground in a ring around the crocodile, causing it to turn. Losing interest in the tank, the croc focused all its attention on The Australian. Showing his agility and bravado, The Australian doubled back on the crocodile, grabbing his air tank as he ran past the tail. A chase pursued as The Australian easily outran the oversized reptile. With a safe distance to spare, The Australian climbed out over the edge holding the air canister. At around twenty feet long, the crocodile was not small by anyone’s standards, although compared to the king it looked like a pet lizard. The Australian, in his element, hung over the side of the mega crocodile like a pirate climbing a mast, waiting for the pursuing croc to take the bait and walk the plank.

Something had caught the eye of the advancing crocodile as it changed direction, now moving toward the back of the neck where The Australian slept, braking its gaze to climbed higher. Still holding on to the side scale, The Australian could see in the dim blue glow his satchel holding the platypus rolling over the scute surface. Forced to play his hand, The Australian began banging the air tank and yelling at the crocodile. Even with the loud “dongs” and shouts, the crocodile continued toward the satchel. The deep subsonic rumble picked up in the midst of the donging, drowning it out. In an act of heroism, The Australian, losing all fear, grabbed the crocodile’s tail first, trying to pull it, then began hitting it with the oxygen tank. His plan had worked. The croc spun around, changing direction. So far all the crocodiles had been moving up the back, slowed down by the incline with wet feet and slippery claws. An unexpected burst of speed caught The Australian off guard, knocking him over as he tried to run down the back. The oxygen tank, leaving his hands, rolled to the center of the back between the scutes and back down the tail. Unable to focus, The Australian ran between the shoulder blades looking for a way to regain control. Directly behind him, the crocodile had begun sliding on its stomach, using the downward momentum to propel its body forward.

Upon reaching the opposite rib cage of the super croc, The Australian made a “J”-shaped turn in desperation to change direction. Deafening oscillation cut out abruptly. The sound was replaced by a smaller snarl creating a Doppler effect from behind. Not knowing what had happened, The Australian turned to see the crocodile hitting the wall below as it slid off the back completely. A hollow bellow dissolved as the crocodile disappeared somewhere between the wall and body of the behemoth host. Running back to check the platypus, The Australian picked up the satchel from the scute floor, finding the small animal, along with two platypus eggs, safe. A third egg with a small hole in the leathery shell was removed from the bag and swallowed whole.

A week had gone by riding on the back of the crocodile ferry. Threats from crocodiles below and the ceiling above caused persistent conflict. How a 200-foot prehistoric monster crocodile was capable of surviving underground was strange enough, but the fact that it continuously moved through a karst conduit was mind-boggling. In some areas, the ceiling hardly cleared the beast’s head. Chunks of limestone and colonies of glow worms rained down on The Australian as the king crocodile’s upper brow made contact. Without any food, The Australian resorted to eating handfuls of glow worms and beetles after they were dislodged from above. Condensation buildup on the crocodile’s scale plates was the only renewable water source available. The Australian felt no shame licking water off scales or eating insects. He did, however, refuse to eat the platypus and her eggs. With the presence of many crocodiles, the platypus’s electrosensory network prevented the nesting mother from leaving the satchel. Insects were placed inside the bag whenever available. The majority of the time was spent huddled around a small fire made from calcium carbide mixed with pieces of crocodile scales The Australian was able to pry off. Like a transient drifter riding a train car, The Australian continued down the river, waiting for the crocodile’s next stop.

Feeling the surface area expand below him as the crocodile inhaled caused The Australian to lose balance. Not focusing on his surroundings, The Australian felt metal hit him in the head. A row of teeth covered both sides of The Australian’s face as he sat on the expanding surface; the pressure clamped down just enough to fold his ears forward. Placing two hands on a scaled snout, The Australian pushed forward, freeing himself. Without realizing what had happened, The Australian turned, looked to the unsuspected crocodile, then to the base of the tail. In front of him, a crocodile holding his oxygen tank in its mouth began trying to swallow the aluminum cylinder in place of The Australian. Along the base of the now-flattened back, crocodiles poured out of the pool created between the tail scutes climbing up the gentle arch. The Australian’s silent attacker, choking on the dive tank, released it onto the floor. A wall of multiple crocodiles moved up the back as The Australian picked up the oxygen tank and ran.

Seeing the moment clearly, The Australian turned to face the progressing congregation. Taking his time, The Australian guided the crocs to his side scale overhanging the water. With his tank over one shoulder by a tattered vest, The Australian climbed out over the edge behind the front leg. Each crocodile formed a line as they slid down to meet him, gaining speed while sliding over the rib cage, then were sent straight to a free fall into the water below. Within a few minutes, the pool below was emptied of crocodiles, except for one extremely large croc who slid backward every time it tried to climb up the lower back.

Ground limestone fell from the ceiling and the conduit walls narrowed on all sides. The dimly lit bioluminescence of the glow worm colonies disappeared. Blue dots on the giant crocodile’s back began fading to black as the scale fire smoldered. All around The Australian, walls crumbled into small pieces of jagged rock. Feeling dizzy, The Australian laid flat on his back at the base of the neck. The lack of light made The Australian’s head spin while reaching out to grab the damaged oxygen tank. Feeling on intuition that an atmospheric change had occurred, The Australian twisted the valve half a turn until the bent threads stuck. Only a torn rubber tube remained of the respirator, and The Australian held it under his nose. Movement from the satchel confirmed his thoughts about the cave’s airflow. Picking up the bag, The Australian placed it on his chest and stuck the rubber tube inside. Now in pitch black, The Australian reached his hand in the air, feeling the tips of his fingers touch stone.

Hours went by without a break in space. The ceiling skimmed by with only inches to spare. Now covered in sediment, The Australian felt grains of limestone in his mouth. Fighting the urge to cough, The Australian lifted his head from the surface and hit rock. Sharp points slowly drifted over his face in the dark as The Australian pressed himself flat. Fearing being crushed between two forces, The Australian laid motionless letting the ceiling slid over him.

In the dark, a blue glow passed overhead. The sound of scraping rocks vanished, and a low subsonic rumble filled the room. Within a minute, the pressure behind The Australian’s eyes lifted. The air, now colder than before, filled The Australian’s lungs. A claustrophobic sensation subsided into an open chamber. Waterfalls poured from the walls and ceiling, raining down fresh water from above. Around a bend, the master conduit began to roar with water hitting the surface. Debris washed over The Australian’s feet, followed by a thunderous hail of droplets. High-impact water-flow poured down the crocodile’s neck, then moved onto The Australian, forcing him to his knees. Falling onto his gear, The Australian held on to a textured gap between scutes to prevent himself from being washed away. As the heavy mist followed the main cataract, a second impact hit at an angle. Water, sent sideways furiously, washed across the back, pushing The Australian toward the edge. Unable to differentiate the direction of the sound, surging torrential flow hit frequently without warning. Holding on for life, The Australian changed direction with each voluminous surge. Two waterfalls hitting in opposite directions at the same time caused The Australian to lose grip. Feeling for a break in the scales, the unrelenting pressure sent The Australian sliding over the hardened back. Within the raging whitewater mist, a hold was found blindly as thousands of gallons of water pounded down against him. Like a row of cannons, streams shot out of the walls, then hit the deck. The Australian only had a few seconds to brace himself before the next white wall hit. The grand barrage ended with a row of water jets shooting out on all sides at once. Front, back, and side to side, more water than The Australian had ever felt was sent flying across the conduit walls and ceiling as it cascaded over the crocodile. Unable to hold on, The Australian let go.

Items ripped away pouring across the crocodiles back, then over the edge. Spinning across the slick, mounded scutes caused The Australian to lose contact with water pressure carrying him over the center of the spine. Tossed like a disk in air, The Australian turned onto his stomach, spreading both arms and legs out to slow himself down as he returned to the surface. Spinning to a stop, the water subsided, leaving only small streams draining through the scutes. The roaring sounds of the waterfalls carried on from behind, growing quieter by the second. Looking over the surface, The Australian found only his satchel partially empty, aside from the two platypus eggs and a few assorted items. The Australian stood to scan the river for movement, fearing his longtime companion had been sent overboard. In the distance, streams of water with a blue tinge began to vanish in the dark. Tears filled his eyes as The Australian positioned himself to sit down. Instead of hard scale, the feeling of oily fur touched The Australian cheeks. A hiss and frantic wiggling erupted below him. The platypus broke free, sliding through the dark up to the back of the crocodile’s neck. A feeling of relief poured through The Australian, knowing that he wasn’t alone. Walking up to the general area of where the platypus disappeared, The Australian placed the open satchel nearby and laid down.

The cave had calmed itself to a quiet river. Only the sound of breaking water echoed through the halls. Upon waking, a bulge in the base of the bag showed The Australian the platypus had returned to her eggs. Feeling cleaner than he had in months, The Australian looked over the edge to assess the topography. Along the walls, granite bedrock floors mixed into karst walls. Glow worm colonies had become sparse, only appearing on the ceiling above in low-density patches. On shore, The Australian could see openings pass by in the limestone walls, each one marked with blue bioluminescence. Reoccurring patterns of natural indicators had been the most successful strategy in choosing movable networks. Seeing a possible way out, The Australian began contemplating an exit plan. Before The Australian could make a move, the barge-like crocodile began turning around. Inside a keyhole-shaped chamber, the river seemed to end as all forward movement stopped. A deep bass brass horn bounced around the chamber  followed by a hissing response from below.

In the blank space, sounds of agitated splashing replaced the king’s call. Without seeing the dissociated reptilian frequencies, habitual noise cut through the binaural spectrum. Coming to a standstill parallel to the bedrock shore, the giant crocodile stood idle as smaller crocodiles filled in around the sides. Surrounding the enormous body, a feeding frenzy broke out as animals plowing below the water began to surface. The dark horizon encircled the living platform in all degrees but one. A blue orb a hundred meters away hung like a lantern. The lapping water against the bedrock shoreline was audibly out of range to dismount. A week passed by in a slow state of transition before the giant turned to face the direction from which it came. Feeling a shift in stability followed by rocks turning under a weighted hide, The Australian secured his satchel around his neck and jumped over the edge. Armed only with a shard of metal, The Australian tapped the ground around his feet while setting course for the blue beacon. Around The Australian neck, the platypus grunted while he waved the metal rod side to side. Hitting a hard cushion, a hiss broke the air. Using the metal rod to trace around the areas between the vibrational change, The Australian stepped into a rerouted line. Tiptoeing through an arm’s-length semicircle, The Australian was able to gain ground toward the emitting light. With only 50 yards to spare, hardened textures blocked all forward progress. Bending low to the ground, The Australian used the light from the glowing fracture to create a silhouetted surface image. Dark triangular shapes covered the floor causing shadows to rise and fall. A step down into the bedrock had filled itself with a bask of occupying crocodiles. From one end to the other, crocodiles piled over each other. The Australian could feel the platypus shaking inside his bag as he stepped onto a scute-lined back. The crocodile rumbled under the Australian’s feet before he transited to the next croc over. With nothing to lose and no way out, The Australian stepped from one crocodile to the next. Midway through the pit, a shifting crocodile caused his feet to pull out from below. Falling on the backs of many crocodiles, The Australian felt a snap on his ring finger. The immense pressure would not let go. While The Australian fought to pull his hand free, again, a binding pressure closed down around his ankle, then onto his forearm. With his right arm immobile, The Australian poked into the dark with the metal shard clutched in his  left hand. A heavy weight at the end of The Australian’s hand released. As he pushed upright, the smaller mouths of the two remaining attackers lifted off the ground with The Australian. Running blindly over the scale backs, The Australian carried the two small crocodiles with him as he tried to break for the blue wall. Tripping again, The Australian fell to the ground as more mouths closed down against his arms and legs. With the release of adrenaline, The Australian closed the distance by dragging the small crocodiles up a granite step. Some crocodiles shook violently while others let go, falling and scurrying away. Able to see the faces of the crocodiles in the glow, The Australian jabbed at the eyes and stomachs. The smallest croc on The Australian’s arm refusing to release was carried into the cracked blue wall.

A raised bedrock step opened into a karst tunnel. Blood welled in beaded lines from the needle-like teeth marks. Still holding on to the small crocodile, The Australian kneeled on the ground and pressed the sharp metal through an eye like a skewer. Inside the glowing mouth entrance, pools of water gathered in calcified basins. The Australian laid down against the wall, letting the water clean his wounds. Tremendous pain stinging across his body caused The Australian to lose consciousness. Opening his eyes to warm dripping water on his face, The Australian rolled out of the trough basin. The Australian removed the metal skewer from the small crocodile lying dead on the ground, cut a line down the tail, and bit into it. True savagery in a primal existence, The Australian had become accustomed to pain. The small bite marks dotted his arms and legs as the wounds dried. After everything The Australian had been through, the constant injury was not enough to break his will to survive. A few days went by nursing wounds in the mineral water while picking off stray crocodiles that wandered into the step room. Other than The Australian’s fingers, the injuries healed surprisingly fast. Within a week, The Australian began moving deeper into the chasm.

Unlike the other cave networks The Australian had been through, the mixed sedimentary area formed in the shape of a triangle. The karst limestone along the upper sections held colonies of glow worms, while the granite bedrock made natural troughs. Following the only lighted sections, The Australian moved through the corridor for weeks. Only one crocodile was seen moving through the expansive fissure chain. It was a prehistoric relic covered in mineral deposits that had fused into the limestone wall. The Australian didn’t notice its presence until it snapped down in front of him. The head stuck out into the corridor, leaving only a few feet to pass in front of the jawline, while the body had been trapped in an adjacent chamber. The presence of bats served as an omen of an opening nearby. A day later, the tunnel ended and The Australian resurfaced to tropical humidity. Sunlight cut through The Australian like a sword. The UV rays forced The Australian’s eyes shut, emerging from underground. The Australian sat down on hot rocks, looking out across a saltwater channel at a nearby island. Turquoise water stretched along the shallows, with coral gardens visible from above.

The tropical island served as a reminder of how far The Australian had traveled. Now somewhere along the Coral Sea, the small land mass hugging the coast provided an opportunity to wait for a passing ship. Abundant reef systems brought fish close enough to be speared in great numbers. After two weeks of lazy days patrolling the rock shorelines, no ships had appeared. The Australian began seeking a way to travel across the channel to the bigger island. At low tide, retreating water in the channel exposed a sandbar stretching out along the next island over. A sheltered beach along the shoreline was blocked by the fast-moving channel separating the two sides. Observing the movements of the tide, the quarter-mile swim would mean entering open water if not calculated with precision. Sharks patrolling the drop-offs posed the greatest threat once leaving land. Multiple times, The Australian watched large fins brake water near the island. After collecting a bundle of driftwood and sticks, a decision to move with the incoming tide was made.

The next morning, The Australian walked out to a partially submerged rock platform overlooking the drop-off and climbed into the water. Within the first few seconds, The Australian’s foot made contact with a tiger shark. Without realizing what had happened, The Australian kicked towards the beach as the current pulled him into deep water. A strong undertow carried The Australian past his intended destination toward a rock peninsula. As the point passed by, a larger beach came into view. Once passing over the deepest section, a tidal break moved his float closer to shore. Pushing through whitewater breaks, The Australian’s feet touched the sand below. With the island’s shore now only a short distance away, a final push into oncoming breaks carried The Australian onto the beach. Moving onto shore, The Australian walked straight across the beach to the tree line and sat down, looking back at a chain of islands along the horizon.

The first days were spent climbing up the steep hillsides to view the surrounding areas. Once reaching the peak, a view of a dirt road on the mainland could be seen across a narrow channel. Looking at this as a way out, The Australian moved his belongings to a beach on the opposite side. Piles of she-oak and driftwood were used like a surfboard to paddle across the relatively short waterway between the island and mainland. Crossing only took a few minutes to accomplish, going by without incident. Pushing the makeshift raft into the current, The Australian said goodbye to the island as it floated away.

  The Australian, locating a dirt road, began walking south.The Australian knew now that he was now on the northern tip of the Cape York Peninsula. Heading south along the Somerset 4x4 access road, The Australian kept his eyes open for signs of travelers in vehicles. The Australian walked for four hours down the road without any sign of passing vehicles. Knowing the probability of a bush camper venturing into one of the most remote areas of Australia was slim, The Australian continued to follow a single pair of tire tracks. The air was unbearably hot, with little shade along the open dirt road.

Movement in the brush caught his attention, causing The Australian to stop. Down the road, two dingoes were walking his way, with a third close by that ran out of the brush onto the open, then stopped to face The Australian. Without any sounds, the dingo moved forward toward The Australian at a trot. Unsure of what to do, The Australian put his arms above his head making himself appear larger than he was while calling for the dingo to disperse. Unaffected by the domesticated scoldings, the wild dogs moved closer. The largest of the three was the most aggressive, jumping up to eye level and darting in and out of the tree line. Feeling the uncomfortable presence of prey, The Australian turned around and began walking back toward the island. The dingo followed, walking a short distance behind all the way back to the shoreline. Regretting his decision to abandon the raft, The Australian walked into the water until his feet left the ground and started swimming for the island. Hearing splashing from behind, The Australian looked back to see the dog entering the water swimming after him. A setting sun cast an orange light over the sea as The Australian paddled sideways with one arm, holding his satchel above the surface. Once reaching the center of the channel, a whimpering shot out from behind. Looking back, The Australian saw a silver tail breaking the surface at the same moment the dingo dropped below the water. Swimming at a sprint the remaining few hundred feet, The Australian pulled himself into the sand shore. Back to where he was before, The Australian made camp, planning his next move.

Day after day was spent probing the island for resources. High numbers of sea kraits along the shoreline pushed The Australian to higher ground. Pythons controlling the higher vegetation areas, in The Australian’s mind, were less of a concern than the poisonous species along the beach. Without a clear freshwater outlet, morning dew licked off hibiscus and rainwater collection became a daily routine. Each day on the deserted island brought new challenges. Exposed to the elements, the island had very few options for shelter. Overlooking the southeast side of the island below a rock hill, pythons gathered among the she-oak. Observing the gathering as a spectator, The Australian watched the snakes launched their bodies at small bats in the setting sun. Sitting directly behind the cliff where the pythons accumulated, The Australian noticed a small bat squeezing itself from a crack next to him, then taking flight straight into the gauntlet of snakes. Knowing that the presence of fracture networks existed on the next island over, The Australian studied the surface as more bats filtered through the cracks. Marking the location, The Australian returned the next morning to view the crack in daylight.

The Australian began to chisel into the stone to get a clear view of the inner workings. Each day, small amounts of rock around the edges of the gap opened until a hole wide enough to fit the top half of The Australian’s body was etched out. Squeezing inside sideways, The Australian reached the back wall of a chimney fracture. Without being able to progress, the work was abandoned. The Australian, still determined to find the root of the fracture, began following a line of potential search areas in close proximity to the rock-wall opening. Drawing a straight line from where the fracture sat, The Australian moved over the land looking for any sign of an underground network. Without any doubt in The Australian’s mind, and knowing from experience that the outward-moving air meant an open space below, every rocky hillside was investigated. On land, the dense rock offered little evidence of any adjacent openings. Thick vegetation covering the island, mixed with uneven terrain, made traversing clear paths extremely difficult.

Reevaluating his approach, The Australian scanned the shoreline for any noticeably abstract anomalies. By matching up a landmark on the mainland and a line of broken branches near the fracture on the island above, The Australian used a she-oak float to patrol the coast. The first attempt revealed nothing visibly intriguing as The Australian paddled back through the shallows. It wasn’t until the tide receded that a unique feature caught The Australian’s eye. While paddling back to the beach The Australian had cast off from, in the stillness of the lowered tide water, a freshwater lens mixing with salt created a brackish stream beneath him. Sliding into the water, The Australian ducked below the surface, feeling around for any changes along the rock edge. A pushing flow against The Australian’s hand guided him to a rock cluster beneath the waterline. An arm’s-length area below indicated an extending sea cave cutout stretching toward the shoreline. Using the oxygen tank to probe the entrance as a way to gauge width, The Australian let the air-filled tank bounce along the upper edges inside. Still able to stand in the shallows, The Australian crouched down, ducking below the waterline and pulled himself into the sea-cave opening below. Holding on to a wall with an outstretched arm in front of him, The Australian traveled a short distance below the water, then felt the ceiling disappear above. Sticking a hand above the surface, The Australian lifted himself into a seating crouch. Feeling around with outstretched arms against the walls inside a dark fracture, the ceiling lifted enough to stand. A short distance later, the floor stepped above sea level.

A feeling of freshwater slowly seeped underneath The Australian’s legs as it continued to move over the step, then mixed into the tidal basin below. Taking advantage of the natural seep, The Australian pressed his face against the rocks, attempting to drink. A foul, brine aftertaste caused The Australian to wince in darkness. Feeling his hands up the seep, The Australian felt along the walls for moisture while moving across the slick algae-covered step. On the edge of the brackish pool, a trickle of freshwater dripped into the wedges of The Australian’s fingers. Again, The Australian pressed his face to the wall, tasting the clean water wash away the brine, then slipped down the rocks into the water below. Before moving out of the cave, another attempt was made for the hard-to-reach seep spring. The odd angle with the algae layer made standing nearly impossible. The Australian, believing he had found a reliable footing, drank his fill. While repositioning his feet, The Australian lost traction, falling backward into the saltwater base and hit his head. The injury was a period to the discovery. Without another attempt, The Australian moved through the water, reemerging to a set sun. With only minutes of daylight left, The Australian made his way to the beach and passed out in the sand.

A splitting headache followed as The Australian woke at dawn, covered in sand, crabs, and two sea-kraits. Feeling the back of his head, a knot with a cut filled his hand. Concussion sickness and irritated bowel movements left The Australian preoccupied for the remainder of the day. Through the sudden illness, The Australian made a short excursion back to his camp to recover. Two days later, the bouts of uneasy bodily function began to subside.

During The Australian’s stay on the island, a few crucial items were collected in the form of sea trash. A pair of lighters, alongside glass bottles and aluminum cans found at an abandoned campsite, gave The Australian the ability to boil water over fire. Tangled fishing line with a hook was used to pull in fish, and plastic scrap bags were used as lids when transporting drinking water. Making do with what was available, the items became irreplaceable lifelines for survival. Now occupying the cleared space the previous camper had left, The Australian, beginning to waiver to the elements, made a choice to explore the sea cave. Using bushcraft ingenuity, The Australian developed an imitation carbide lantern from a pair of aluminum cans. The exposed landscape offered little protection against storms or heat, making the island increasingly volatile.

Upon entry to the sea cave, the makeshift lantern provided a new perspective onto the darkened fracture. Up until that moment, small movements along the lower steps were utilized. To The Australian’s surprise, a continuation fracture along the upper cave’s corner allowed for him to scuttle sideways between walls. Feeling at home in the pitched darkness, The Australian continued navigating every potential fracture for a way forward. An approaching storm system was all the encouragement needed to make a move into the fracture network. Three waterspouts swirling off the coast forced The Australian to play his hand. The last memory of the island was seeing grey clouds moving over the Coral Sea as the cyclone wind threw branches of she-oak across the channel’s surface. Once entering into the sea cave, The Australian never reemerged, leaving this memory of the last time above ground.

Following a sinking fracture cut toward the center of the island, The Australian moved below the island’s surface into uncharted territory. A fault-line anomaly caused by a perfect single geological chain of events set the scene for an unprecedented transfer between continental divides previously unconfirmed by science. Due to a tectonic rift zone below the Torres Strait, The Australian traveled the fracture north to the edge of Papua New Guinea. One perfect fold opened to a rock-slab chamber hallway as The Australian moved closer to the edge of the Indo-Australian Plate into the New Guinea Subduction Zone. Closing the gap between PNG’s eastern peninsula twenty days in, The Australian swore he could hear bells and horns from above. Without realizing an exact location, The Australian was now directly below Port Moresby on the coastal edge of a shipping lane.

A karst network surrounded the natural rift lane. Inside a circular chamber, a pillar of sunlight shined down onto a pile of round rocks below. Through a blowhole opening above, The Australian could see blue sky, then began shouting up in hopes of gaining the attention of a passerby. Unable to reach the ceiling skylight, The Australian attempted to pile rocks closer to the gap. Reaching the point of exhaustion from carrying boulders, The Australian gave up.

Moving on to new passageways, the caves began to fill with spider silk. What started as a few strands became a tangled mess of translucent castings. As the webs increased, large spools hung suspended overhead. Opening up a spindle sitting at chest level unveiled a small bird that had become ensnared in the invisible trap. Seeing the potential for an easy meal, The Australian began looking for signs of movement within the webs. Deep into the spider’s catacomb, a trail of broken webs led to a live bird immobilized by silk. Using the sword-like metal to swipe large strands, The Australian began reeling the trapped bird closer to the ground. Feeling the tension of two sides, the bird fluttered, yanking itself free and flying away in the way it came. Reevaluating the approach, The Australian continued to skewer the bundles of web, looking for any sign of life. The deathtrap cavern continued to showcase remnant travelers who had strayed too close. Lizards, bats, and birds hung like ornaments along the dark walls. As he walked, The Australian used the sharp metal to spin his own spool. Webs began to collect around the base of the rod, encircling The Australian’s hands and fingers as they pulled tight. A long silver strand drew a line into the darkness while The Australian continued the spinning motion forward. Turning a corner into a connecting hallway, the air visibly moved with each turn. What had started as a small weave had turned into a boxing glove of silk around The Australian’s hand.

An entire hallway filled like a tinderbox of spider silk blocked The Australians way forward. Dense waves of clear silk rippled through the lantern’s light. Unable to cut through the bind, The Australian unraveled his hand free from the silk mitten, leaving it piled at the front of the hallway’s entrance.

With only one viable pathway to choose, a hallway with tight walls forced The Australian to squeeze through. The narrow space between walls pinched The Australian’s waist along the final stretch into an opening chamber. With one arm and a leg sticking out of the small fissure, The Australian became stuck in place. Hours passed as The Australian bounced himself deeper into the space between the walls. Unable to lift himself over the narrowest protruding point, The Australian stood on the tips of his toes as his weight pinched him down. Feeling his body struggling to circulate, The Australian recollected his breath into a deep inhale. As the breath left, The Australian pushed his toes down and relaxed his muscles. With a small fall forward, The Australian slipped through the remainder of the gap. Unable to move with the feeling of circulation reactivated through his limbs, The Australian remained laid out on the ground, thinking of his home.

The tingling spread through The Australian’s limb slowly regained control over his legs. Sliding himself upright against the fissure wall, The Australian felt around in the dark space for his satchel bag sitting somewhere outside of his reach. From the outside, the crack in the wall felt impassibly narrow. Unable to grab the satchel containing the platypus and remaining supplies, The Australian felt around the cave for anything useful to assist in the retrieval. The bedrock chamber stepped down into a lowered floor level with little signs of former inhabitants. Scanning the surface on hands and knees, The Australian swept the area for a tool. In a nearby corner along a high step-down slab, a pile of bone scattered as The Australian’s hand swiped over top. Using blind hands, The Australian felt for the largest of the scattered remains. The bone’s hardened texture hinted at an ancient accidental fall lost in time. Crawling back the way he had come, The Australian wedged himself into the cracked wall, raking the ground with a curved rib. Vibration resonated through his arm as the texture transitioned from hard rock to canvas. With a pulling motion, the satchel slid forward across the ground, bringing the bag within arm’s length. Repositioning himself on the lower opening, The Australian grabbed a handful of loose material, then lifted the bag over the narrow pinch.

Firelight returned the sense of sight, replacing the ink black with an orange glow. Seeing the room clearly, the chamber resembled an amphitheater with bedrock steps wrapped in a spiral into lower sections. A flat surface area at the base of the steps, under light, exposed the cunning trap the room played on its guests. All around the high steps, ancient bone piles sat undisturbed. Unidentifiable mammals from a time long ago, caught off guard by the steep edges, marked a natural pitfall for those who came before.

Making a base camp on the flat stage surface, The Australian made exploratory ventures into nearby openings. The expansive network was unpredictable, providing very few passable routes. Long hallways would end abruptly into hard bedrock walls, while other paths closed into small fractures. Without a sense of where to go next, The Australian moved forward by probing entrances, then returning to his belongings. A small pull from the lamp lantern’s flame became his compass guide, consistently leading The Australian into unrestrained subsections.

Jagged karst limestone opened to a mouth floor covered in round rocks. Following the flame, The Australian walked into the throat. Karst limestone disappeared as the ceiling and floor were replaced with a transitional bedrock gauntlet into a plate fault. To describe the terrain, think of two mountains pressed together at the base. Through the air, a waning call went out somewhere far beyond. Echoing as the noise dissipated, fear shot into The Australian and the platypus shifted inside the satchel, grunting. The realization that he was not alone crept into The Australian’s mind. It was a sound he had never heard before outside of American nature documentaries, a sound like a bear.

Unable to turn around, The Australian moved down into the exaggerated slab-plate cavern. An enclosed ravine-shaped hall amplified every step as rocks shifted below The Australian’s feet. Wherever the beast was, it was somewhere close. Rocks falling, paired with a deep breath, loomed over the ambient silence. Along a wall to The Australian’s left-hand side, a flat slab step raised above the boulder field, providing a level platform to travel. Quietly stepping with his back against the wall, The Australian held his sharp metal, tapping the floor with his foot. Feeling his way around fallen rocks on sensory perception alone, The Australian kept a hand on the wall as he felt for a safe path around.

Midway through the high-step overhang, the feeling of a steep edge beneath his foot forced The Australian to use covered flashes to evaluate position. In the flashing light, a break in the step’s surface dropped off into a black space, then reemerged several feet away. With a series of repeated flashes, The Australian visualized the negative space as it faded back to black. Calculating his steps to the edge, The Australian moved backwards, counting each pace. With inhibition gone, The Australian swiped the flint on the lighter rapidly, counting backward as he ran. On one, The Australian felt the edge beneath his feet and jumped blindly forward. The moment passed in an instant as one foot touched down, followed by another. Without losing balance, The Australian wound down his strides, returning to the probing movements he had before.

Using sporadic flashes from the lighter, The Australian continued moving deeper into the chasm. A flashing spark covered by a hand lit the ground in front of The Australian’s feet leaving the stifled light escaped over the edge. Below the step’s edge, on a flat slab, a mound of fur caught the corner of The Australian’s eye. As the sparks faded, rhythmic breath of a sleeping giant tuned The Australian’s attention downward. Reminiscent of a polar bear, an Ursidae figure stretched across the floor and laid motionless. The enormous size of the body, outlined by long gray hair, put a rigid sensation through The Australian’s body, causing him to seize in place. Holding his breath, The Australian walked slowly forward in silence. Fifty meters on, from the opposite side of the hall, a sharp call echoed into The Australian’s right binaural field. Deep sniffing sounds could be heard along the adjacent wall, followed by rocks beginning to roll over the steps as a second bear caught wind of The Australian’s presence. Moving over the raised plate cliff with less discretion, The Australian swiped at the dead lighter’s flint while tracking any obstacle in the flashing light. Huffs and growls followed alongside from a parallel step on the opposite side. Turning the lighter out over the edge of the step cliff, the rugged image of a smaller bear in pursuit appeared, then disappeared with each flick. The bear, unable to bridge the sheer wall due to the height, perched over the edge facing The Australian as he ran. For nearly two miles, the stalking bear followed on top of the raised-step high above the separating rock gully. A natural stadium bleacher effect took shape as the slab steps tapered closer together. Running higher and lower along the steps, the bear kept pace, constantly peering across while it looked for a way down. Much like the way the step began, a gentle downward slope carried the path closer to the rocky middle ground. On the opposite side, the bear’s step, still too high to jump down, rounded into a sheer wall.

Between flint strikes, red bioluminescent glows illuminated a fissure crack running from the ceiling to the floor. With the step high road merging back into a boulder-covered bedrock floor, The Australian stumbled over piles of rocks while rushing toward the glowing red wall. Feeling the oblong rocks shift heavily beneath his weight, The Australian used his hands to guide him over fallen boulders. Flashing the flint at the top of a pile of fallen rocks, The Australian could see the bear pressed over the step cliff directly in front of the red fissure exit. Unsure of what lie ahead, The Australian limped toward the cracked wall for cover. An outstretched clawed paw swatted past in the red glow as The Australian ducked into the open fissure. From behind, rocks buckling under immense pressure tapped together with echoing force. A huge whining growl from the middle of the cave erupted before the larger bear launched her attack.

Now inside the cracked wall, bioluminescent red light surrounded The Australian as he pushed himself backward. An arm topped with a tractor-seat-sized paw extended into the fissure-mouth opening. Raking the ground in front of The Australian, the claws padded around the walls and floor searching for contact. The long-haired arm receded empty-handed out of the opening, then replaced itself with the eye of a bear. As The Australian stood up, the face vanished while the bear repositioned itself for a second attempt. Sliding against a wall, The Australian crept backward. The massive arm shot forward into the narrow crevice. With only inches to spare, giant claws missed the grab, holding firm in midair. With a small backward step, The Australian began turning to move deeper into the safe space out of the bears reach. With only the slightest reach forward, one claw hooked around the strap of The Australian’s satchel. Within a fraction of a second, The Australian was yanked backward with more force than he had ever felt in his life. The bear’s heavy paw curled around his body as it smashed The Australian against the smooth wall. Pinned firmly with unrelenting strength, air left his lungs and The Australian curled under the weight. Sounds of a throaty huff followed  with the bear pressing harder.

Pushing against the force, The Australian’s strength was no match for the animal’s superior physiology. Padded sections of the paw rolled The Australian against the stone wall. The bear’s fully extended arm lifted, then smashed down again; dragging The Australian closer. Feeling the awkward angle of the elbow wedge against the wall, The Australian held the paw on each side of the wrist. Under the long hair, the bear’s muscles flexed firm with extreme tension, then released. Within the feeling of slackened tendons, The Australian forced his weight to the floor, freeing himself from the restricting pressure. On the verge of collapse, The Australian instinctually pressed himself into a backward slide. Half a second later bear’s hand connected with an empty wall. In every direction, the bear’s paw blindly searched for his presence.

Moving backward in a frantic state, The Australian pushed deeper into the heavy neon-red glow. The arm of the bear continuously pressed along the inner walls of the fissures, searching for its prey. Checking himself over briefly for mortal wounds, The Australian felt a long sting running from his spine to hip. Although violent, the attack left very few deep scratches due to the way the bear used its paw to contain The Australian in place. Crushing pain from the pressure was the main cause for concern. The Australian’s collarbone and ribs felt unsteady. Dragging himself as far from the open fissure entrance as possible, the glowing red algae filled the space around The Australian. Bright red light covered every available gap of the stone surface as the soft algae grew thicker. Encased in a narrowing channel, The Australian pushed himself deeper into the growth. Lying on his back, strands of the glowing red algae covered The Australian’s face. With one push forward, the bloom pressed down against The Australian on all sides, making it difficult to breathe. Unable to turn around in the small space, The Australian pushed himself forward using only his feet. Sliding over dense piles caused the cellulose barriers to crack, creating a slick gel beneath. In an effort to reach an end, The Australian kicked the ground, digging in his heels as he pushed. A strong smell of brine and a bitter taste filled the confined space. Stopping for a second in the densest section, The Australian gathered the last of his strength and pushed. Within a three-second burst, the floor broke away, dropping The Australian downward into a bed of algae along a sheer wall. Open air returned as the chamber’s ceiling lifted, marking the fissure’s end. Seeing a bed of glowing orange and red The Australian for moment thought he had fallen in magma.

A room of red brought a sense of comfort after the chaotic state of panic. Bioluminescent algae blooms covering every surface gave the illusion of glowing red shag carpet. The Australian sat in the embrace like a bird in a nest. Peace filtered back into existence and The Australian closed his eyes. Through the pain, The Australian let go of fear and slept soundly. Waking up to rouge-covered walls, the isolated chamber resembled a psychedelic bachelor pad in London more than a cave somewhere below Papua New Guinea. Along one wall, a seep spring collected in a perfectly formed bowl. Water pouring down from above rippled in the clear water base, creating red waves of reflecting light. The enormous bowl, carved into solid stone by the constant drip, overflowed into a trough around the perimeter of the chamber. A skeleton in vintage mining equipment rested against a nearby wall, partially covered in glowing algae. While uncovering the midsection, The Australian felt canvas below a layer of antler-like algae. Inside a torn bag, a mix of specialized mountaineering and geological tools poured over the illuminated floor while The Australian pulled. A detailed journal, labeled “M-Rockefeller” dated from the 1930’s-1960’s, was opened to a page marker. Leaning close to the red walls to read, The Australian was unable to decipher what looked to be Dutch handwriting, skimming dated entries inside the fine journal. The author’s last entry was in 1961, with a final closing sentence ending with, “Het warren de beren.” Unable to understand, The Australian continued to collect every item possible. For the first time in months, The Australian wore real clothing and shoes. Torn canvas bound with rope was used to wrap the remaining tools into a bindle. Still unable to progress due to the crushing injuries, The Australian remained inside the nest as his wounds healed.

After one month inside the red room, The Australian’s fractures began to heal. Living mainly off mice, water, and an injured possum that had escaped through the fissure wall, The Australian nursed himself back to a functional physical state. Small ventures into interwoven pathways gave a clear directional origin over many short trips. With only one possible way forward over a drop-off subchamber, The Australian gathered his belongings and left the nest-like sanctuary. Carrying with him a bushel of glowing algae, The Australian retraced his steps to the cliff-face drop-off, throwing the wrapped bioluminescent anchor off as he peered into the darkness. Forced to rappel down a sheer wall, The Australian knew there would be no returning once descending over the edge. Using a small iron hook wedged inside a cracked ceiling wall, The Australian lowered his body into open air and slid down. With a weakened collarbone, maintaining leverage over the rope while sliding down became increasingly difficult. The rope, now too far from the wall to touch without swinging, pulled The Australian’s body weight heavily against his hands. Still moving down into the dark corridor below, the rope continued to sway. Stability while moving in obscure, pendulum-like directions caused The Australian’s grasp to lessen, sliding faster as he lost control. Squeezing the rope tight in an effort to reduce inertia caused the twine to flex then bounce. From above, tension vanished, leaving only a slack rope in silent free fall. Holding form while falling, The Australian fell in a seated position the remaining distance to the stone floor below. The wind left The Australian’s chest as he listened to the rope curling, followed by a metallic echo. Gasping as he rolled to his side, The Australian felt his satchel moving while the platypus reacted to the change in gravity. Breathless but mostly uninjured, The Australian located his tin-can lamp, then sparked the lighter to ignite the acetylene wick.

The long chamber was compiled with a series of oversized slabs of bedrock stepping stones. Each flat surface ended with a distinct edge, just beyond protruding rocks partially submerged in water. On each side of the flat rocks, ink-black water reflected the lamp’s firelight. Feeling like a Lilliputian in a giant’s garden, The Australian hopped from one slab stepping stone to the next into the depths beyond. Dynamic variations in the slab shapes made each stepping stone unique in its own way. In almost a perfectly straight line, the dry stone platforms stretched on for miles, growing smaller with greater distances between formations. Water began creating large trenches separating each stone. Although still able to jump between slabs, the space between them continued to lengthen. After a transition into a high-ceiling chamber lake, the large stone platforms ended abruptly. Now standing on the water’s edge, The Australian could only make out what looked to be a small rock protruding out of the water at the edge of the torchlight. Taking a moment to weigh a plan of action, The Australian sat with his eyes fixed on the stone in front of him.

After careful deliberation, The Australian entered the water, leaving his lit lantern and supplies on the last step slab. Twenty feet away, The Australian climbed onto the small stone surface, looking out over the water for another. In the remaining light, still following the straight-line pattern, a flat slab surface reflected back from beyond. Limited on navigational options, The Australian swam back to reclaim his possessions. Deciding the best way forward would be to attach rope to the heavy metal tool bindle, then pull the weighted items from step to step. The Australian entered the lake sacrificing one of his aluminum-can lanterns as a marked beacon of light in case of a return.

The Australian swam back to the isolated water-locked platform. Once on the step, The Australian pulled the bindle across, resetting himself for the next step in the chain. Again, The Australian swam out to the next silhouetted rock above the waterline. The process continuously repeated until the lamp-light beacon was nothing more than a small dot in the distance. Now swimming in total darkness, The Australian could only make educated evaluations on the direction of the next stone checkpoint. Swimming in a straight line, The Australian let the rope unravel behind him, then made a fan shape while swimming from side to side, feeling for a bend in tension. With the slabs appearing less frequently, the space between them grew. Reaching the end of his rope without connecting to a linking stone, The Australian was forced to retreat. Following a trail of braided cordage back to the base step, The Australian disconnected the satchel containing the live platypus and her hatchlings.

Again reaching the point of resistance in rope length, The Australian swam forward, holding his satchel close to the surface and pulling the bindle free from the stepping stone’s surface behind. Swimming hundreds of feet forward, The Australian struggled to maintain a straight line as the rope sank and dragged along the bottom of the chamber lake’s floor. Unsure if steps had been missed along the way, the feeling of stone returned to The Australian’s hand. Stopping only to pull the sunken gear out of the water onto the flat surface stone, The Australian continued onward. As The Australian swam, the echoing sounds of splashing water became dampened. Stopping to check his ears for hearing loss, The Australian felt a noticeable shift in the water’s movement. Swimming to his left, The Australian connected with a solid wall only a few feet away, then swam to his right, feeling a parallel wall no more than 20 feet away.

Hugging a wall, The Australian followed the straight line forward deeper into the boundary’s opening. Soon, both walls came within only two arm lengths apart, and ground could be felt below. Walking on an inclining round rock floor, The Australian felt the water drop below his waist. Thousands of smooth stone pebbles slid together as The Australian crawled onto a small beach along an indentation in the wall. Pulling the remaining bags onto the beach, in total darkness The Australian felt for his can lantern and lighter flint stashed inside the dry bag. As the flame chased the shadow to the walls, a shoreline made up of millions of small black stones filled The Australian’s eyes.

Above him, an overhanging chasm ledge opened into a dry tunnel. Spinning the grappling hook, The Australian cast it over the water to catch the tunnel’s edge above. Tied bags on the opposite end of the rope sat on the black pebble beach and The Australian swung himself over the water. Climbing up the wet rope to the overhanging break exposing the tubular balcony was a daunting task even for an experienced climber. With the rope firmly set by the multipronged hook high above, creating knots or footholds would require any additional alterations to be made while suspended over water. Unable to free the wedged end piece, The Australian searched for alternative edits within the rope’s structure. A series of loops secured with a knot in the middle of the rope allowed for a secure starting point while climbing above the waterline.

With each failed attempt ending in a fall into the pool below, the frustration built. Hunger in a weakened physical state led to fatigue. The vast lake’s waterway seemed to be barren at a glance, but with closer inspection along the pebbled shoreline, shadowy schools of small minnows hugged the shallows. Near invisible in the firelight due to the black rock shore, the dark fish could be heard skimming the surface while entering the water’s edge. Using pieces of torn canvas and a pile of stones, The Australian created a fish trap to corral the tiny fish as they passed. Finally able to cultivate a pescatarian diet, The Australian sat on the rocky beach eating handfuls of skewered fish while pressing live minnows through a gap in the satchel.

The young platypus had recently begun feeding on their own, eager to explore. For the first two months after the hatchlings broke free, the mother would not let The Australian handle or get close to the satchel without resistance. The majority of the time between the exit from the island until now, the mother remained nestled inside the satchel, eating only if food was left outside the bag. Like two small furry ducklings, the young platypus became difficult to contain. Feeling the sensation of water for the first time, the hatchlings broke free from the protection of the satchel to reenter the shallow water of the pebble shoreline. Unable to fully contain the curious duo, The Australian built a rock-lined seal before he slept. A close bond and a desire to protect the growing platypus pairs lives gave The Australian a new responsibility.

Waking up to the sound of buzzing and water slapping against inexperienced feet, The Australian found the two platypus out of the bag and heading toward deeper water. One platypus close to shore was picked up as it floundered in circles on the surface. In need of help, the farther of the two moved in the same meandering motion over the top of the black water. Moving into position to make a short swim to the helpless stray, water broke from beneath and the tiny platypus was sucked under. The Australian, stricken with grief, scoured the area from where the young platypus disappeared. Diving below the water, The Australian felt over the rocks for a sign, finally giving up hope and returning to shore. From the middle of the waterway, where the rope sank below the surface, movement caused the line to pull. Rope once hanging straight began forming a lifted angle. Springing into action, The Australian dove back into the water, kicking toward the line. Using a hand to intersect the jute braid from above, The Australian curled the rope around his wrist and elbow. Feeling a dead weight firmly attached to a looped knot, The Australian pressed a hand through slick gills. Lifting a catfish from below the waterline, The Australian made a sidestroke to the stone shoreline. Prying the fish from the unorthodox lure, The Australian reached an arm past the mouth into the stomach of the giant catfish. Pulling out the frantic platypus in the palm of his hand, The Australian carried the two onto shore. Slipping out in panic, the small platypus fell a short distance, then waddled in a hysterical sprint over rocks and into the satchel.

Feeling stronger than he had since leaving the light, The Australian continued to breach the balcony’s upper apex. The round overhang left little room for error once reaching the stone ceiling. Releasing the rope completely, a free-solo push was necessary to keep contact with the balcony’s outer wall. Using a crease to wedge his fingers through, The Australian placed a foot on the underhang and pushed. Keeping three points of contact over the lip, The Australian grabbed the rope, then heaved over the top. Having successfully crossed over the natural barricade into the exposed tube, The Australian located his hook and began tying knots. Creating a secure rope ladder from looped knots, The Australian climbed back down to transfer items over the balcony. Transferring tools first, The Australian tied the rope’s end around the satchel, then placed his lantern on the top. Firelight floated over the black water, then lifted as the beach faded away. Bringing a lit can lantern to illuminate the space above showed a vast network previously concealed by a broken wall.

Inside the porch window, layers of black stone raised into a two-level fracture corridor covered by a volcanic stone layer. Taking time to move through the widest halls first, the easily navigable paths wrapped around the edges of the metamorphic rock, stopping abruptly as the volcanic composition transitioned back to base layers. The black lava-tube vein had seemed to have warped through the fracture corridor long ago, then hardened as the pressure subsided. With all other routes ending in an impenetrable transition to metamorphic, The Australian followed black floor receding flow lines in the direction they formed. Seeing a visual difference in directional textures, the waved lines provided a clue into the anomalies creation. Along the walls and ceiling, the pattern of once slow-moving molten rock layered in a dripping curve pressed in the opposite direction. Compared to the floor, the caked layers moved up and down, then changed into long stretched drifts against the lower edges. Following a downward slope, The Australian reached a metamorphic mantle above a black fireplace-like cavity. In the way an artist would paint canvas, high above the fireplace a black wall ended with a line brushed across a sheer rock face. Stepping into the hollowed fireplace indentation, a solid black hole dropped deep into the base of the mountain.

Climbing down beneath the outer rim, The Australian crawled on hands and knees into a narrow tube. The volcanic spring formed inside the fissure’s crack ended in a well dropping far further than the torchlight. Gambling on fate, The Australian tied a rope around his waist, letting the bags hang freely under him, then moved his legs into the hole as he pressed his weight against the wall. With only inches to spare inside a sheer drop, The Australian climbed down into the pit. Continuous pressure between the lower back and feet allowed for suspended periods wedged in positional holds. With no recognizable end, the slow descent brought cramping fatigue on every angle. Every reposition required an unnatural redistribution of pressure against the wall. Hours spent shifting through the shaft on the brink of exhaustion had brought The Australian to delirium. Unsure of the exact moment he had fallen asleep, The Australian woke to a shock of equilibrium, falling downward only a few inches, feeling his knees touch his chest.

Pitched deep inside the volcanic shaft, The Australian made microscopic movements upward in an attempt to free himself. Focusing breaths to match the pressing of his hands on either side, The Australian lifted up as elongated wiggling of hips and shoulders rewrote a balanced posture. Desperate to free himself from the shaft’s grip, The Australian climbed down with haste. An inch passed by as The Australian felt the weight of the supply rope dissipate. With no more than a few yards remaining, The Australian crabbed his way to the shaft’s floor.

Rolling out from under an overhanging base, waving layers of hardened magma stretched across the fault-fracture lava chamber. Unlike the conduits of Undara, jagged walls of bedrock remained plastered with cake-batter-like formations. The ancient lava flow appeared to have seeped in long ago, then receded as the continental plates shifted. Entering into the smooth waved chamber, life had seemed to disappear. Other than a few spiders, the chamber was barren to the eye. Traveling only in the direction of where the flow subsided, The Australian climbed over small step layers marking the face of each descending wave. The basalt waves continued to grow in size, transitioning from an easy step-over to a multiple-meter-high climb. Each formation rendered in place as the geological cooling process concluded permanency.

Hours went by climbing over increasingly thick layers until The Australian reached a particularly difficult shelf wall. The smooth textured steps prevented any secure footing. Only a break down the middle covered in sharp edges could be scaled. Using articles of clothing, The Australian covered only his hands and legs before moving up the center divide. Thin rounded sheets of volcanic rock cracked and fell as The Australian entered what looked to be once a bubble of molten rock. Knocking brittle pieces of basalt to the floor prevented collapsed footing before making the short push over the edge. Using a rope to lift the remaining baggage up the smooth section of the wall, The Australian slid down the steep slant back onto a plateau of lava rock.

Discoloration marking a split along one side showed the source of the drainage. Now sealed, the flow pattern frozen in time moved toward a covered shaft in the fault corridor. Testing the shaft’s center with a small geologist pick proved to be insufficient against the hardened rock. Unable to go back, The Australian began looking up. A crack in the wall, partially covered in a black stone layer, opened to a fissure high above. Only able to see the upper shadows of the opening in the lamplight, The Australian felt for a stable base to climb. Ten meters above, the fissure’s cavity opening was precariously fixed for a free climb. Casting a hook tied to rope into the raised space was like threading a needle in the dark. Over and over the hook hit solid wall, then fell back down, causing the process to repeat itself.

Only one sure shot out of many breached the base of the entrance. Feeling for a catch, The Australian gently eased the rope backward to the edge. Believing a secure hold had been found, a small pull to test the hold’s strength caused rocks to drop over the edge, bringing with them the hook and rope. Stones rolled down the caked-on base, sending them straight across the ground towards The Australian. The tin-can lantern was hit first, causing the light to spiral over the ground as the aluminum bounced away. In the dark, a hollow knock jumped through the black, ending at The Australian’s toes. Yells of pain filled the darkened room, then turned to frustrated chatter as The Australian limped to retrieve his can.

Enraged at the wall, The Australian cursed, picked up the hook and swung it through the air around him. Hexing the wall and the cave while letting go, The Australian let the metal hook fly from his hands without looking at where it was going. The familiar clang of falling metal never came. Instead, the response was unraveling over the ground. Running after the loose end, The Australian dove after the sound, catching the frayed end with one hand before it slipped away. Feeling the weight of a lever suspended, The Australian walked the rope backward to his bags for an anchor. Held up in midair, the hook had passed through the entrance into an unforeseen space on the opposite side. Carefully fishing the tri-hook to a secure mount, The Australian pulled tight and the rope lost slack.

Without wasting another minute, The Australian grabbed the rope and started to climb. Moving up the steepest section with ease, The Australian turned to sit on a flat section under the triangular-shaped window. Perched high above the magma corridor’s floor, The Australian hoisted up the end of his rope tied to his bags. Once reaching the peak, The Australian crossed over the short gap to the opposite opening, lowering the bags down to the transitional floor below. Taking time to make the optimal wedge for the hook’s retrieval, The Australian climbed down only a few feet onto the lava seep hill. Molten rock from a prehistoric flow drifted down the fracture line, then mixed with a rock bed of boulders. A karst platform above the bedrock dripped in a straight line against the wall, then spilled over the edge into the rock garden below. The natural intersection created a four-way stop of geological sedimentary compositions. The metamorphic rock, volcanic basalt lava flow, karst limestone, and bedrock occupied their own section as they seamlessly transitioned from one to the next. Truly unique to the localized sedimentary compound, the four corners of earth stood as the crossroad for the next leg in the journey. One of many spectacular geological formations the fault held in secret, The Australian focused light from the lantern into each quadrant, humbled by creation.

Dehydrated from the barren volcanic corridor, water was a welcomed relief. Lying down on mineralized slab bedrock at the base of the karst wall, The Australian let water drip down from above to quench his thirst. Hours of exploratory probes to chart a course resulted in closed barriers and dangerous passageways in every direction except one. The most obvious choice, but last traced, was the continuation along the main fault fracture. Traveling over a trail of round rock boulders, the fault corridors wall began to widen in every direction, dropping downward into a concealed underground canyon with giant slabs of bedrock fractured from every wall. Looking as though the earth’s hand had rolled a bead of stone clusters, giant rocks hung fused from the ceiling. Trying to make sense of something separating two continental plates, The Australian’s canyon hole was like a hammered wedge in a log. With this one-off formation of natural forces caused by pressure of tectonic fault lines pressed against each other, The Australian crossed over the triple junction into the Ring of Fire. Where the north and south Bismarck plates border the Pacific plate, the spile-tap pierced through.

Emptiness is a word that could describe the feeling of space below the sea. Looking for anything living, The Australian moved into a narrowing hallway. Feeling hunger overtake his mind, The Australian looked at his satchel with remorseful eyes. Pulling one of the small platypuses out, The Australian held it in the lantern’s glow. The Australian placed the juvenile hatchling on a rock fused into the floor, pinning it with outstretched fingers as he wept. Undisturbed, without fear of imminent danger, the platypus remained still as The Australian picked up the geologist pick. Driven by hunger, The Australian readied himself for his strike, counting while he measured his line. The tiny platypus, still pinned with light pressure, put out its tongue and began licking the rock repeatedly. Seeing this as a sign, The Australian leaned close to the rock’s face. Desensitized by the feeling of unusual crawling sensations, The Australian looked deep onto the rock’s surface. Mite-like microorganisms moved in swarms over the stone-floor. The Australian began licking small crustaceans off the rock next to the platypus.

Rocks from the ceiling above hovered only inches over the surface floor. In places, boulders weighing multiple tons appeared to float in air over small stones below. Amazed by the resilience and strength of the volcanic plaster, The Australian tested its strength by trying to dislodge a round stone pillar bonded to the ceiling. Pushing with all his strength The Australian did little to separate the fixed stone’s hold. Losing interest, The Australian crouched down and continued on. From behind, the floor shook, sending a solid vibration through The Australian’s body. Turning around to see the stone had dropped to the ground, the long boulder stood straight where it fell, then tipped. As if time had slowed to a crawl, the giant rock fell to its side, hitting an outreaching stone against the wall. A chain reaction of giant stone pillars slowly being knocked free from the ceiling, then piling up as they crashed into place, followed. Watching in horror as rocks blocked any way back, The Australian listened to the domino effect continue through the cave. Minutes went by in agony, with The Australian’s hands over his head. Each knock brought the heat of ruin. Even with no one around, The Australian could not help feeling responsible for his unfortunate oversight and lapse of etiquette. Blushing in the dark, a final stone clattered into place somewhere in the pile beyond. Somewhat grateful that no one else witnessed the folly, The Australian crawled forward into the shrunken cavern.

Four rocks pinched together left little more than a pea-sized gap between them, blocking a way forward. Looking back toward the fallen rocks, the realization of entrapment set in. For an entire year, The Australian remained stuck chiseling at the stones, surviving on only the tiny crustaceans and condensation rock-dew from the humidity. After two months, The Australian finally managed to break through the gap. A hole wide enough for a platypus to crawl through gave insight into what lay on the other side. Dry platypuses crossing through the small gap returned wet, hinting at a body of water. Out of the four-stone blockage, only three were chiseled into, the fourth avoided due to the vertical position. Shortly after breaking ground on the small passthrough gap, the worst-case scenario of the vertical stone breaking free from its socket came true. With the rock’s gap now reduced to half the size, added months of endless chiseling. Now the only option left and forced to change his strategy, The Australian began attempting to free the rocks from their sockets. After months of intense labor, the wall fell, creating an opening wide enough to crawl through. Battered by the geological imprisonment, The Australian came out the other side with only a prayer that his efforts did not go unnoticed in the eyes of God.

Through the relentless assault of the senses, The Australian’s devotion to his platypus companions never wavered. Due to mineral knowledge back in Australia, The Australian had mixed limestone with the calcium carbide, providing a near-endless supply of inert filler. The small flame tin-can lamp only needed the hard-caked layer of calcium carbide to be scraped to reactivate the gas reaction. Now a master castaway, The Australian was unrecognizable from his entrance photo. A year and six months from the start, The Australian now had overcome every obstacle put in his path. Moving past the rock blockade, The Australian crossed into the southern fault of the Pacific plate as the last leg of his odyssey unfolded.

Airflow condensation from the four-corner waterfalls built up over millions of years, converted the floor into a freshwater channel due to a slight change in downward elevation. Swimming through the drip canal, The Australian held on to the ceiling’s air pocket, hugging the shallow edges toward the Solomon Islands. Days went by moving in blind darkness as The Australian, feeling his way by touch, pulled himself through the subduction anomaly. Letting the platypus roam freely, the three animals used The Australian as a float to rest. Unable to restart the lantern, The Australian relied on the electromagnetic sensitivity of the platypus to guide him. Acting as The Australian’s eyes, the platypus trio were used to locate unseen rest perches and gauge spatial sound references. Following the platypus forward past alternate canal branches proved to be a life-saving decision. Without deviating from the chosen course, after a week in water The Australian exited onto dry footing.

A crack running between two walls glowed into view as The Australian, finally able to produce a flame, relit his tin-can lamp. Soaked to the bone, The Australian’s hands resembled age beyond his years. Warmth of the fire and extreme exhaustion took hold over The Australian’s eyes. Lying down on solid rock, The Australian slept. Waking to the sounds of grunts and platypus bills shaking, The Australian stood listening. Keen on platypus intuition, The Australian felt danger’s presence. Grabbing his climber’s pick, The Australian looked forward to the piled rocks in front of him. A black shadow of a creature’s antennae poked over into the flame’s flicker. The metachronal wave gait snaked over the stone as the feelers moved side to side. Jet-black shine split the torchlight, then stopped and lifted its head. Adrenaline caused The Australian to shake uncontrollably. Preparing for a fight, The Australian held the pick firm and waited for the next move. Unlike any myriapod The Australian had ever seen, the beast of a centipede held its body waist high while the long antennae moved independently, scanning the foreground air.

Frozen in place, The Australian watched two-meter-long whip antennae graze across the ceiling surface, then sweep to the floor. Cutting across the top of his feet first, a thin wire of exoskeletal hairs stopped, pressed lightly against The Australian’s ankle. Seeing an immediate change in behavior, the organ of Tömösváry reacted to the organic change and the creature paused. A second antenna swung to The Australian’s hip, tapping with feathered precision to his chest, then face. With the first antenna still pressing against The Australian’s ankle, the creature traced his outline with the second, tapping over him until the two antenna met. The two feelers began drumming up The Australian’s leg until they reached the top of his head, brushing his hair as they swept over his shoulders. With nowhere to run, The Australian made his move, wrapping the two antennae around his left arm like a stagehand roadie, swinging the pointed pick down toward the base of the feelers. Connecting on point, the hard exoskeleton gave way to the metals force braking the surface. The giant-sized myriapod curled into a spiral as The Australian let go of the pick’s handle. Picking up rocks from the floor, The Australian began stoning the creature from a safe distance until it moved no more.

After eating only piles of tiny roasted crustaceans, the high-protein mass the myriapod provided came as a welcomed gift. Eating until he could eat no more, The Australian slept. Waking to the sound of scuffled grunts, The Australian sprang into action to a second, smaller centipede-like myriapod curled around one of the small platypus. Beating the creature without fear of personal wellbeing, The Australian freed the injured platypus from its pincers. Hobbling to cover, the platypus’s leg had been severely damaged. Using a cloth as a tourniquet sling, The Australian wrapped the year-old platypus and placed it into his satchel. Grabbing only what he could carry, The Australian moved forward over the rock pile to search for a secure landing.

Flat-step basalt mixed with a bedrock floor made up the cave’s construct. The remnants of a once-active volcanic fault chain had formed into a slot-shaped hall. Following the only path onward, the walls rounded as The Australian entered a basalt caldera. Insects not previously known to science darted across walls through the flickering firelight. Wide ranges of size could be made out briefly as the shadowed outlines moved with the flame’s border. Inside the chamber, the growth of insects had seemed to be maximized. Crickets and roaches, both large and small, moved with The Australian while he walked, clearing from the walls with each step. Chattering of many moving legs filled the air on the floor below. A coliseum of disproportion playing out amongst the different species left carnage against rock walls. Dismantled pieces of assorted exoskeletons littered the ground in heaps. Moving through the waste was comparable to the feeling piles of fallen leaves bring when kicked. Each step moved with insects hidden beneath the debris scurrying in every direction. The hollow shells seemed to disappear at a border-line transition. Almost as though the ground had been swept clean, a flat surface stretched out in limited light.

Stepping onto a flattened basalt slab, The Australian moved over small naturally formed steps on the floor, listening for any sign of proximity. Sweeping sounds mixed in with pops and clicks consumed the chamber.

A battleground for the hunters left little to the imagination; partially eaten remnants of oversized millipedes lay where they fell. Step layers on a downward slope brought The Australian to a shoreline pool. The water’s top was covered in flakes of exo-material and floating shells of drowned insects. After filling a glass bottle, The Australian watched microorganisms swim in front of his flame. A sickening feeling began to overtake The Australian’s senses. Wanting nothing more than to be far away from this place, The Australian continued along the water’s edge.

Out of the black, a rope-like whip lashed across The Australian’s body. Taken by surprise, the sting caused The Australian to scream. Crouching down, The Australian held the torch-lamp up as a second antenna swept into view, then rested on his shoulder. Ginormous was an understatement when finally looking at the myriapod. Standing up to face the monster, a black shape reared in the light. Taller than The Australian, the centipede’s body lifted for the kill. Feeling the fear of his final moments, The Australian began to pray. Just as before, the antenna traced The Australian’s body, then connected on either side of the head. The Australian felt the creature’s body move forward as he stood firm, ready to fight.

Cutting through the light, a blur of teeth and neck hit the myriapod from the side. The Australian hit the ground, holding a broken antenna, then turned to the water. Prehistoric in nature, the long-necked creature dragged the curled myriapod over the floor and into the water. Cracking the shell, the serpent-like animal broke water as more necks appeared alongside. Running away, the sound of monsters echoed from behind.

With the fear of being eaten looming over The Australian’s position, running far away from the water provided the best chance for survival. Holding a tin-can lamp in one hand and a mountaineer’s pick in the other, The Australian ran over the swept, arena-like surface. Antennae cast out from the shadows swatted across The Australian’s  body as he ran. Swinging at anything that moved, The Australian curled passing antennae around his arms, breaking the ends off in stride. A wall marking the outer boundary of the basalt slab prevented a quick exit out. Forced to follow the wall’s edge, The Australian moved over the flat base slab until ascending step layers granted access up.

Using his hands to press himself up the natural step layering, The Australian didn’t stop moving until reaching the top. Almost a mirror image of how the chamber began, a cracked fissure leading into the wall emerged from out of the darkness. Gasping for breath while heaving, The Australian wedged himself against a slot in the wall to regained his composure. Feeling no higher than a cricket in the food-chain, great effort was made to leave the godless cauldron.

The familiar sound of hardened legs scraping over the ground came closer while The Australian waited for another attack. From out of the dark, a giant rounded head appeared in the light. Slowly moving past, the giant back shine paid no attention to The Australian as he bounced in a fighting stance, ready to strike. An aura of docile nature lessened the tension, and The Australian dropped his guard. Watching what must have been a thousand legs moving in perfect unison, The Australian stepped closer to the millipede and pressed his hand against the smooth chitin shell.

As the giant millipede passed, more followed, each one enormous in its own regard. Long black trains reaching The Australian’s waist passed by in each direction. Taking note of the dual transit, The Australian, choosing the largest millipede moving into the fissure, slowly mounted himself onto its back, letting it carry him deeper into the earth.

The congregation moved slowly farther into the dark corridor while The Australian used the time to nurse the injured platypus leg. Millipedes came and went without notice of The Australian’s presence. Traffic jams caused the giants to crawl over each other if reluctant to move. Becoming comfortable riding on the back was interrupted during a sudden shift in The Australian’s weight. Sliding backward as one millipede climbed over a smaller curled arthropod triggered a defensive chemical pheromone discharge. With eyes beginning to water from the foul-smelling odor, The Australian dismounted in search of relief away from the creature’s ozadene pore secretions.

Continuing on by foot, The Australian walked over softened ground. Black pellets trampled and poked into a saucer-shaped disks covered the floor. Inspecting a dried disk in the lamplight, The Australian, noticing the mainly plant-based composition, held one half to the flame. Within only a few seconds, the broken circle smoked, then ignited. Sanity to The Australian was something distant, like an old picture of a peaceful memory. After months spent within a small flame’s glow, seeing the fire brought a sense of humanity back into view.

Prying the ground, The Australian scraped off layers of blackened ground coating into a pile at the base of a nearby wall. Warmth began to accumulate as the fire took hold, causing millipedes on the walls, ceiling, and floor to change course. Unable to keep his eyes from falling shut, The Australian nodded off upright with his back against the wall.

Waking up to a toxic plume, The Australian opened his eyes to a smoldering pile of red embers spread out under a thousand legs. The passing millipede’s body slowly curved, changing course around the substitute log fire. Each dense organic tinder composition reignited where it lay, remaining perfectly contained within the space that it sat. Unable to smother the flame, a line of small fires sprang up along the ground. Seeing the beneficial potential in the substance, The Australian began collecting the black tar-like disks off the floor and placed them into a bag. The only plausible explanation was that the circles must have been millipede castings that had pressed under the weight of other passing arthropods. Using the pliable organic material to wrap around metal surfaces of his mountaineering tool, The Australian built a torch.

Moving through the fault fracture guided by an open flame, the walkway opened into an interconnected caldera. A rounded room with high ceilings came into view. The congregation filled and separated like a herd of cows, millipedes everywhere hung in place, grazing on what looked like green slime growing on the surfaces. Narrow keyhole fractures along the walls acted as a queue line for incoming and outgoing arthropods. The room appeared to be a crossroad into other outlet connections, with a partially collapsed rock pile filling the largest fracture corridor directly across from the entrance.

Moving amongst the millipedes, The Australian held his torch high, observing the edges of the chamber. As if someone had sounded an alarm, millipedes began to curl, secreting the invisible noxious plumes in synchronization. Crouching behind a living wall, The Australian looked on as a black centipede crawled through the entrance opening. The freight-train body followed in a spiral into the center of the room, corralling the millipedes between. Feeling miniaturized by the sheer size of the centipede’s length, The Australian crawled closer to the edge, then ran for the piled rock hill.

Climbing in fear, The Australian scaled over fallen stone as the jet-black monster lifted over a single millipede. High above the floor, The Australian looked back when he reached a small opening lined with micro-sized millipedes. In the torchlight, black shine pincers lifted to eye level as the centipede raised its head, then dropped onto the curled mass below. Forcing himself into the shadowed gap between the ceiling and fallen rock, The Australian made his escape.

Rocks pressed tight along the ceiling opened lead to the pile of algae covered rock descending in the firelight. Heavy coats of green growth caused The Australian to slip. Bouncing over the fallen stone with near-zero friction, The Australian slid till he hit the floor. Pressing hands and feet to the ground was useless in the heavy bloom cavern. Lying on his back, The Australian slowed to a stop hundreds of feet from where he began. The torch, momentarily extinguishing, smoked red, then slowly relit.

Sitting upright to examine the surrounding area, black and green was all that could be rendered. Billions of chitin shells moved and broke under the weight, providing the only friction against the green slime algae. Falling as he stood, a shot of pain resonated from The Australian’s lower back. Platypus bills poking through the top of the satchel licked at the black layer, bouncing as they chewed. Sitting in place, The Australian contemplated his position, then rolled onto his stomach.

Placing bags onto his back, The Australian used the unlit flattened edge of the mountaineer’s pick to drive through the frictionless bloom, hammering the hard stone floor below. Pulling on the handle, The Australian began to slide forward across the floor. Like a candle, the black-wrapped patty guided the way as the pushing and pulling continued. Following a single path, The Australian slid almost effortlessly over a once-thriving millipede highway. Soft strikes dug into the gooey castings below. Now covered in bloom, the algae reigned supreme.

The fault fracture, littered with the remains of fallen giants from long ago, lay pressed against the walls. Every few miles, circular rooms appeared resembling the well-traveled network behind. With the amount of millipedes on the opposite side of the wall in search of algae, it was surprising that so few remained.

Stopping to cook the upper ends of small millipedes, farther than he had ever been in his life, The Australian sat back thinking about his life on the surface. Memories of a simple time washed into his mind as The Australian looked into the black abyss on each side. Green algae from the wall began sliding across The Australian’s back. Panicked, The Australian attempted to prevent himself from sliding. With hands firmly positioned on a stuck pick, the realization arrived that it was not he who was sliding, but the wall itself.

Holding to his pick, The Australian placed a hand on the wall in motion. The green film coated The Australian’s fingers as it moved, then disappeared. Reaching out again, The Australian felt nothing but air. On the fire’s edge, rounded heaps of algae rose and fell. Placing all belongings on his back and picking at the ground, The Australian pursued the moving black wall on his stomach. Identifying the familiar framework of giants across the hall, an even bigger giant dragged The Australian along after his pick hit chitin.

The queen of the millipedes pushed onward into the unknown, pulling with it The Australian attached to the telson hypoproct. A small plate along the lower edge allowed The Australian to sit sideways, clinging on to the queen while she moved. Crushing everything that stood in her way, the train-like body left a smooth center path, leaving piles of green matter pressed against each wall. In the wake of the passing giant, enclaves of other insects filed onto the open floor to feed.

Holding the queen tightly, The Australian watched oversized Blattodea family members descending from the walls into the fire’s corral. Oval-shaped bodies resembling common cockroaches, except magnified, darted in and out of the light’s grasp, then faded away. Coleoptera the size of bulldogs flew down from above, creating a thick hum resonance that filled the fracture. Knowing nothing of normality anymore, The Australian curled tight as the dynamic frenzy unraveled. Crushed beetles and roaches caught under the queen turned out the end as green lumps fighting to move. Keeping his feet tucked in close to the plate, The Australian could only look on while the less fortunate ones became surrounded by their comrades.

Mile after mile, the closed-loop food web continued. Scraping echoed throughout the hall as the queen rounded. Snaking into the largest cavity yet, the ground, devoid of the green bloom, turned matte black. The unbuckled movements of telson plates shifting dropped off The Australian in a seated standstill. Sitting stationary where he fell, The Australian could see round black balls dotted along the queen’s path as she moved on. Standing up, The Australian limped to catch up. Casting balls as tall as The Australian stood marked a trail of breadcrumbs deeper into the cavern. Now fully out of sight of the queen, The Australian used the casting balls to hide for cover while attempting to reunite. Without his mothership transporter, the fracture corridor became a menacing roadway of unknown dangers. In the torchlight, dark shapes moved down the walls, blocking a way past. Hiding behind a spherical casting, The Australian ducked for cover. Clicking chatter off walls moved closer to his position. Now directly on the opposite side of the sphere-casting cover, the enormous Blattodea began feeding on the ball. Unable to extinguish the black patty flame, the insect took notice of The Australian’s presence. Moving over the top to face him, the roach-like insect looked down into The Australian’s eyes. Without empathy, the insect turned its head in calibration, moving closer with the front limbs wrapped over the lower hemisphere’s radius, then to the floor.

Backtracking to the previous casting, The Australian hobbled as the roach followed. Rushing alongside, The Australian, swinging fire at outstretched limbs, walked backward yelling at the giant roach. Feeling out The Australian, the roach walked step for step looking transfixed upon him. Moving to the giant casting for protection, The Australian cried out bravely, then broke off mid-yell as the fear of death grabbed hold of his senses. Again climbing onto the casting sphere’s upper pole, the roach continued its calculations. With more Blattodea on the way, the chase moved backward. Four casting balls back from where the hunting party began, The Australian, completely surrounded, stood to meet his end. Prepared to fall fighting, The Australian lashed out at a roach perched onto the casting. Lightning-fast reflexes of dominant evolution jumped left, causing The Australian’s torch-pick to break into the outer casting’s layer as he missed. Feeling the handle leave his hands, The Australian’s feet left the floor and the roach pulled him closer. Pinning The Australian to the ground, a pinch and release on the back of his arm was all he felt. The immense pain that followed was unbearable, then again the pinch hit a leg. Surrounded by three giant insects, The Australian, reaching out for something to grab, but was only pulled backward. Losing hope and too tired to fight, The Australian closed his eyes, blocking out the pain, waiting for fate to run its course.

Pressure of weight lifted off his back when The Australian opened his eyes. A moment of silence followed in anticipation while looking at the wall in front of him. An orange glow cast a single shadow against the wall. The Australian lifted his head, rolling over to his side, watching the ball of fire escalate. Pushing off the ground, The Australian slowly stood up, stepping closer to the flames. Without hesitation, The Australian pulled the torch-pick from the fire, cursing the roaches as they scurried away. Hitting the casting ball with a sideward swipe broke burning chunks of excrement to the floor. Driving the pointed end through the hard-packed waste, The Australian walked forward, holding a bellowing flame, then lit the next ball. Shouting obscenities about the roaches mothers, The Australian slowly progressed from one fireball to the next.

With the high-ceiling fracture set ablaze with a line of neatly fixed fireballs running down the middle, parched and bleeding, The Australian collapsed. Lying on the floor, looking forward into the darkness beyond, a round shine broke the light’s barrier. Hardly able to move, The Australian clawed himself to the wall and pressed his back to the stone. As the giant millipede approached, the difference in size was instantly recognizable. Smaller than the queen, yet still dwarfing The Australian, the gigantic black mass moved closer. Making one final adjustment to avoid being crushed, The Australian laid down on his side. Moving with a succession of legs tuned to a sinusoidal wave pattern, the millipede passed with only inches to spare. Chitin-armored legs crashed down in front of The Australian with immense force while he lay in a delirious state of dehydration and blood loss. In the same manner of someone lost in the desert, The Australian reached out in thirst. With one hand skimming the smooth chitin shell above the leg’s point, algae began to coat The Australian’s fingers. With an oncoming wave, The Australian’s hand bounced upward before he drew it to his mouth. Again The Australian reached out, letting his hand skim the upper regions of the chitin-pointed legs for moisture. Pulling a green hand away to avoid an oncoming wave, The Australian pressed the bloom into his wounds. With a final swipe, the millipede passed by, moving toward the line of fire.

With great effort in a weakened state, The Australian turned to see the first fireball break apart. Undeterred by the gas-fed flames, the millipede crashed into the next. Shifting in a long exaggerated “S,” the millipede moved closer to the opposite wall, bypassing the continuous line of fire. Looking back into the dark, The Australian pushed himself upright, moving closer to a flattened black circle and lit the surface. Green and blue flames turned orange before spreading over the surface. On the brink of death, The Australian placed his bags down and curled up to the heat. Going unconscious the moment his head hit the ground, The Australian felt the fire’s warmth against his skin.

Barely able to open his eyes, gum-like resistance on The Australian’s eyelashes stretched when he pressed. Feeling soreness from the injuries, The Australian placed a hand to the back of his arm. Algae forced inside the wound had transformed with heat into a gummy layer, closing the wound. The hydrogel treatment along his arm, leg, and back seemed to have worked in an unperceived way. In desperate need of water, The Australian pressed on, following the trail of flat pressed castings. Within a mile, the fractured cavern broke into a circular caldera. Inside, the queen millipede remained stretched out motionless with beads of water pouring down from above.

Walking into the entrance of the caldera, three roaches lay trampled in pieces. Looking up, legs and remnants of the roaches crushed chitin exoskeletons stuck to the ceiling above. The Australian, seeking revenge, pulled a leg off the ground, vowing it was now his turn to eat them. One dying roach remained moving when The Australian approached. Still broken, with missing limbs, the insect grappled at the ground, moving away from the flame. Barbaric in his lust for reconciliation, The Australian bore down on the beastly Blattodea family member with mountaineering equipment drawn. A full-circle affair concluded with The Australian victorious, striking down his opponent, then basking in the glory. With roach legs over each shoulder, a fire was lit alongside the queen in preparation for the feast. Cupping his hands against the queen’s hard shell underside, The Australian drank from her like a fountain.

A pyre of legs roasted over an open casting fire. Using the freshwater drip-spring for a shower, The Australian cleaned himself for the first time since entering the insect kingdom. Pulling clumps of algae from the legs of the stationary millipede, The Australian dressed his wounds next to the flat-circle fire. Feeling admiration for the giant arthropod, The Australian studied her in full view for the first time. At over 7 meters high and 40 meters long, the creature was a god among natives. Surprise for the strange and unfathomable had died long ago for The Australian. With allegiance to the millipedes sworn, dinner was shared within the mist of the peaceful giant’s company. Poking at the transforming gummed texture of his algae hydrogel bandage next to the fire, The Australian, seeing great medicinal benefits, collected the green slime and placed it inside a scrap bag. Resourcefulness being a key component in The Australian’s survival thus far, he had learned to take what was given.

Rejuvenated by renourishment, The Australian’s eyes and mind lay across unknown borders in anticipation of his next great adventure. Taking a day to settle, eating and bathing, The Australian explored the outer ring of the keyhole caldera castle. As the queen of the millipede moved on, so too did The Australian. Moving in the direction from where she had come, The Australian waved goodbye as the queen-millipede made her exit into the dark. Slipping through a tight fracture dripping with fresh water from above, The Australian cut through the earth, torch in hand.

Three platypus by The Australian’s side made no attempts to leave the satchel as the side-chain trunk dripped ominously from above. Water running down from the main chamber pooled around The Australian’s ankles, getting deeper with every step. With the algae bloom returning along the walls and floor, The Australian prepared himself to slide once more. In the presence of deepening water in the narrow fissure, a new strategy had to be implemented. Moving now sitting backwards, The Australian pushed with his feet while he held to algae-covered rocks. Feeling the terrain slowly with thighs and hips, small pushes over uneven obstacles pushed into deeper water. Within an hour from the starting entrance, the trunk creek widened into a waist-deep algae runoff. Scattered remains of recognizable inhabitants floated on the surface, while others felt by touch rested below. Hard chitin shells had to be pushed free from the algae’s grasp with the spiked spurs digging in from underwater. Waite deep in the chitin creek, The Australian looked for an advantage against the wash pit’s fallen remnants. Like logs caught in a stagnate swamp, the crushed wreckage from the giants above had collected in the path of least resistance. Assorted collections of armored plates, legs, and antenna made moving perilous. Now chest-deep in a floating scrapyard, the constant barrage of miscellaneous arthropod pieces was too much to bear. Climbing onto an overturned millipede, The Australian sat, thinking of what he should do next.

Now up the chitin creek with an oversized insect leg for a paddle, The Australian pushed himself like a gondolier aboard the upside-down millipede’s exoskeleton. Floating remnants of washed-out drainage levees above turned over, then gave way to the forced passage. A wall of the dead halted the giant raft in place. Blocked from wall to wall, the buildup of exoskeletons failed to break when The Australian pressed firmly with his leg pole. Holding his torch high, scouting the wreckage for a way through, a shadowy dugout resting on the wall’s opposite side caught The Australian’s gaze. To mount the wall meant leaving the safety of the floating escort and balancing on top of barbed chitin shells. To fall would mean reentering into the unforgiving waters below. Testing the first step by pressing down against an island of exo-fodder, the hard-cased shells ducked and bobbed under the weight. Pressing onto the heaviest thorax of an unknown arthropod, The Australian crawled on. Unstable distribution of buoyancy caused the midsection to dip wildly from one side to the other. Using his mountaineer’s pick to spread weight to the main wall, The Australian’s hips left the organic platform when he pressed both hands to remain above water. Kicking through the extension, The Australian laid flat, with only his chest on the thick biomass, before he reset his pickaxe. Pulling the handle hard when the metal point broke layers of chitin, The Australian lifted his legs above the waterline, scooting himself onto the stable blockade.

The Australian moved low over thousands of clogged invertebrates to a hollowed oval-shaped exoskeleton, pulling the shell free from the wall. Fully intact other than the legs, The Australian examined the specimen’s underside in the light. Heavy chitin framework pressed under the wall’s stress had sealed into an airtight hull. Once clearing all foreign shell fragments, The Australian pushed the chitin canoe close to the blockade’s opposite bank, then pressed the torch’s wooden handle into the beetle’s mouth. Letting light lead the way with a push, the canoe pressed into liquid, floating freely, spinning in the dark. Laughing in the hall radiated positivity into the furthest corner of the chitin creek, bouncing off every corner before returning to the sender. Feeling like a castaway pirate on the open seas, The Australian paddled deep into the stagnate mixture, moving agilely through the water’s corridor.

Never giving up hope amidst the adversity of dynamic change, The Australian rowed his iridescent boat forward, conquering yet another hurdle thrown in his way. “Follow it to the end,” he said, as the thought of The Australian’s fallen companion flashed through his mind. Unsure of luck or divine course, The Australian rowed on until the chitin creek narrowed. Before long, the high ceiling tapered to only a few meters above, reducing gradually with every stroke. Using his hands, The Australian laid flat, grabbing the lowered rock ceiling to pull himself ahead. Walls pressing on either side stopped the hard shell in place, marking the route’s end. Dismounting into a cramped stream, The Australian turned the shell canoe sideways, pulling it onto dry basalt. Sponge growth on porous lava rock pressed against The Australian’s feet when he moved over the slot divide. The strange combination caused a momentary pause en route for examination. Secured to broken basalt stones, the waterlogged sea sponges contracted when pressed, releasing the water from which they held. Clear lines of dropped down The Australian’s arms when he picked up a second sponge and squeezed it above his open mouth. Spitting when the initial drops fell, the saltwater hit like a brick, shocking unexpecting senses. Turning around an upward-slanting sponge-strewn rock pile lifted through changing geology.

Limestone mixing with basalt pushed open to columned hallways harboring saltwater pools. A dreamscape corridor of exotic subterranean life thriving on seawater streams danced in the firelight. Looking at the tropical reef cavern below ground was something that should only have existed in novels. Sponges and starfish filled in leaking walls, along a tidal-pressed body of water running the course of the outermost parameter. Not one to object to unfamiliar anomalies, The Australian pressed further into the maze of columns and pools. Passing by shallow depressions eroded into the floor, schools of juvenile yellow tang, isolated away from the wake pool’s corridor, shot from one waterhole to the next. Dominating the innermost sanctuary of the saltwater stream, yellow triangle-shaped fish navigated its path as though it were a road. Forming a solid yellow trail, the monolithic pathway led to a semicircular, moon-shaped pool surrounded by a row of columned windows. Inside, large yellow tang filled the pit, moving in an endless circle. Other than a few puffer fish and spotted eagle-rays passing in the mix, dense bright yellow masses fluttered below the flame. Stopping at the water’s edge to view the near-monolithic spectacle, The Australian poked along the surface with his metal shard. The constant famished feeling left with the first bite of cooked fish. After a year trapped in a stone prison eating only small, micro-sized crustaceans, fish was a gift from god. Drifting off, watching the yellow pit’s waterline rise then fall every few seconds, The Australian remembered again what it was like to feel human. A peaceful calm swept through his eyes as The Australian curled up to his platypus inside a giant beetle bed frame.

Waking up sweating, an unquenchable thirst grabbed hold of The Australian’s mouth. Unable to swallow his own saliva, The Australian’s throat felt swollen leaving him gasping for air. Searching nearby corridors for freshwater yielded only salt. Desperate for a sip, The Australian rummaged through his belongings for a solution. Using his two aluminum-can carbide lamps, The Australian began constructing a steam vapor still to distill saltwater. In the midst of the chaos, the platypus had exited the bag, appearing to be exhibiting the same symptoms as The Australian. The four gathered around the small carbide lamp while a second can boiled above. Holding a broken scrap bag above the steam, The Australian waited for the beads to settle, then licked. Even a small portion of freshwater had broken the parch-locked airways. Beginning to stabilize, The Australian again collected the steam, then placed the scrap bag on the ground for the entourage to consume. Billed snouts gathered around a sheet of plastic, hitting the surface with outstretched tongues. Refining the still required balancing cans in place under a plastic sheet to drain into a glass bottle. Using fishbones to secure the bushcraft still’s plastic drape to meet the glass bottle’s edge, the distilling process began. Hours went by nursing the still, sipping until satisfied, with the four holding in place, waiting for the next batch.

Although the water had cured his thirst, The Australian, still unable to breathe properly, looked to the yellow pool. Lying close to the water’s edge, The Australian looked deep through the school’s spiral. Rasping in an ah-ha moment, his hunch was confirmed as The Australian pointed at a lifless dogface puffer passing by. Caught in the mix, tattered remains of what looked like a decomposing puffer fish turned in the tainted whirlpool. Yellow tang, immobilized in paralysis, floated amongst the school, blending in without notice. The Australian, solving the mystery of his raspy cracking voice, set his sights toward smaller pools away from the moon hole.

Making a kabob of tiny yellow fish was more difficult than expected. Poking at holes with a raw point of metal only ended in frustration. Diverting from brute attempts at spearing the agile tang, The Australian laid still on his side with an arm along the small eroded basin. Juvenile tang, swimming unknowingly into a trap, had little time to react before The Australian swiped an arm through the water. Yellow triangles sent flying through the air, hit the cave’s floor flapping. Small fish out of water, bouncing in distress, were collected easily enough to provide multiple rations. While The Australian claimed his prizes, a thump of a rock in the distance drew his attention outward. Learning to fear the unknown, The Australian stared into the dark sea cave. Sounds of splashing and dripping became amplified in the heightened sense of awareness. Far across the dark maze, a small glow held light in the distance. Pausing for a moment to listen, The Australian crouched down to collect a fish, then carried on. Looking into the dark while walking away, an uneasy feeling began to rise.

Productivity had become a cycle with The Australian settling in with food stores and fresh water. Still unsure about his surroundings, The Australian drank his fill of distilled water, then placed the beetle shell over himself. Feeling like a barnacle curled under a protective shell, The Australian slept, heaving heavy breaths then passed into the subconscious. Thoughts of the sun faded to black when sleep overcame The Australian’s mind. A disturbance from outside the shell caused the platypuses to frantically burrow into The Australian’s side. Waking up slow, a knock hit the ground outside the beetle’s walls. Lifting the edge enough to see his endless torch burning against the wall, The Australian noticed a boulder that wasn’t previously there before. The initial reaction of a fallen rock nearly missing the camp caused a quick jump out to inspect the ceiling above. Covered with sponges and starfish, the boulder had landed only feet from where The Australian slept. Different species of bioluminescent and fluorescent sea anemone covered the face of the rough surface. Looking up at the ceiling, The Australian, unable to see any clear marking from where the boulder had fallen, refocused his eyes to the rock’s face. Intrigued by a unique combination of living creatures, The Australian looked over each exotic specimen in the torchlight. Preparing to return to his protected shell, The Australian refilled the carbide still with saltwater, taking a sip from the glass bottle turning to face the boulder once more. Closing his eyes letting the freshwater emptied into his mouth, The Australian looked back at the boulder. Noticing two large black dots on what looked like lips, The Australian recognized the boulder to be a giant clam shell. Bewildered by how a giant clam could have fallen from the roof without being noticed, a claw bigger than The Australian’s leg pinched a yellow fish, bringing it to the shell’s lips like a chip. Spiny legs reached out, revealing the monstrous hermit crab’s true form. Dropping the glass bottle in fright of what he was seeing, The Australian panicked letting the glass shatter over the ground.

Grabbing the pickaxe torch, The Australian ran past the giant, stopping only to flip the beetle shell and throw his bags inside before dragging it away. More crustaceans, attracted to the smell of fish, lined the previously vacant corridor. Reaching out with enormous claws when he passed by, The Australian pressed the burning metal pick broadside against the hard shell forearm. Feeling great strength pressing back from the creature, the fire’s glow was enough to cause a sudden withdrawal back into the clam fortress. The line of giant clam-shell hermits only grew longer the further The Australian ran. Jabbing at each meandering crab with the burning crucifix reminded The Australian of a book he had read about vampires. Caught in a tug of war over the beetle shell, The Australian used the power of flame to compel himself away from the slow-moving demons. Breaking past the final posse of the biggest hermits, The Australian headed deeper into the dark seascape cavern, unsure of where or what to do next. Sliding the shell to a stop, far from any recognizable pathway, The Australian remembered his place inside the darkness.

Gasping for breath with sore lungs, rest would not come easy knowing what dangers lay inside the cavern walls. Judging by the size, the crabs must have remained hidden inside the maze with no way out. Walking through endless karst columns, each hallway looked nearly identical to the last. In the fire, fog-filled halls hung over the surface. A warm breeze surrounded The Australian like a sauna. Licking his lips to fresh water, The Australian moved into vapor-filled chambers cautiously as the fog thickened. A circular ring formed around the torch’s flame, then dissipated into uniform swirls of air pressure passed by. Bubbling water, blocked out by a fast-moving fog bank, grew closer. Covering The Australian like a blanket, condensation poured off his body in streams.

The bubbling hole, a phenomenal byproduct of an anchialine network of geothermal vents, appeared to be boiling. At first glance, constant turning water gave a distinct visual impression of scalding hot liquid. Hearing the bubbles without feeling radiant heat, The Australian touched the surface with the wooden end of his pick. Letting drops of water fall into an open hand, a mild heat rested in The Australian’s palm. Using one finger, The Australian dipped his fingernail’s tip below the surface, then pressed the water to his tongue. Fresh high-alkaline drinking water washed away thirst and The Australian climbed into the pool. Cupping handfuls of purified groundwater, The Australian extended below, feeling truly clean for the first time in a year. Climbing out to opening the satchel, three platypuses followed suit, sliding to the bathing pool’s edge, then disappeared. Warm, but not extremely hot, the bath-like hole felt like heaven after the hell The Australian had been through. Pressing his arms over the edge, The Australian closed his eyes, letting his hips drift in the bubbling pit. Entering a state of deep relaxation suspended in the rising vapor, a pinch from below his waist sent The Australian crashing back to reality. Feeling bitten, The Australian pushed himself onto the stone floor, checking his penis in the fire’s light. Three white crabs clinging onto The Australian’s pubic hair and testicle raised their claws in defiance, warning The Australian that this was their turf now. Refusing to let go of his hair, the crabs pinched skin when The Australian pulled. Finally able to free himself from the pinching crabs by breaking off a claw, The Australian cast them aside while the platypuses charged. Making short work of the promiscuous crabs, The Australian began collecting broken legs. Seeing great opportunity in the defensive characteristics of the crustaceans, The Australian went in again. Placing himself against the wall, The Australian noticed a subtle difference between the bubbles and oncoming crab legs. Using his pubic hair like a crab lure, The Australian pulled white cave crabs out of the water by the dozens, storing them inside a bag for later. Without any shame of how or why the crabs were so keen on attaching themselves to his bush below the belt, The Australian continued on until his bag was full.

Heavy fog began to lessen away from the pool when The Australian looked for a safe refuge. Filled with a dry bag of fresh water and a bag of crabs, The Australian pulled the beetle shell like a sled over the slick floor. Thin mist hung in wisps, moving gently through hallways. Freshwater plants started to appear, confirming a definitive transition outside the anchialine labyrinth. Water pouring down in the distance echoed without being seen through the looming karst structure. Waist-high holes in the limestone poured water over the floor, then drained into funnel-like indentations against adjacent walls.

Stepping through a small rivet carrying water, The Australian’s foot slipped in a gel-like film covering the floor. Ooze spread between open fingers when the jelly substance was removed. A strong organic smell filled holes The Australian passed by. Hearing distressed grunts from the platypus, The Australian reached for his pickaxe torch placed inside the beetle’s mouth. Thinking on guard of what caused the secretions, a torch was lowered in front of each tunnel before crossing.  Stopping to look at where he had come from, The Australian’s intuition was telling him to turn back.

Prayers for an animal The Australian had seen before in a nature documentary were not heard. Growing ill of monstrous creatures previously unknown to science, The Australian held his torch up, scanning the foyer. High above the floor, partially exposed in a hole, the serpent’s mouth opened and closed. Unaffected by the fire’s light, the menacing eel’s huge head pressed out, showing the extreme size clearly. Turning to run back, squelchy splashing broke the spectral plain. Two dark shapes, reflecting glints of light as they wound toward The Australian, moved blindly, probing lucid space with open mouths. In the heat of the moment, The Australian slipped forward trying to run through jelly secretions marking each limestone hole. Caught with only unexplored darkness in front of him, The Australian looked back at the two troglobyte eels swinging their heads side to side, tapping rocks, then pulling away. Taking a shot in the dark, The Australian wiped his torch along the ground, releasing the balled flame residue and flipped his shell to cover himself. Slipping past with immense length, girth, and weight, an eel hit the hard shell, causing it to slide against the wall. With mouths large enough to swallow a man whole, the eel held its head pressed hard into the shell. Secretions raked under the beetle’s edge, forming a thick film covering every inch of The Australian. Pressure released, dropping the lifted edge and the eels moved on. For nearly an hour, The Australian remained curled beneath his protective exoskeleton.

Prepping his torch in darkness, The Australian blindly wrapped a fresh casting around hot metal. Lifting up the shell’s outer edge, The Australian stuck the pick outside, chaining a light from the previous casting patty smoldering nearby. The cave was quiet aside from faint sounds of running water in the distance. With gases in the casting breathing into an open flame, light returned to the hall. Letting the shell rest on top of his back, The Australian slid out to stand. Hidden in the shadows, a small eel no bigger than The Australian lay flat against an opposing wall. Needle-like teeth extending from the jaw turned in The Australian’s direction. In a fraction of a second, the eel’s body began gyrating forward, sloshing from one side to the other. Gasping at the horrible creature’s sensory response, The Australian dropped his torch.  Almost If it were a shadow itself, a dark shape resembling a tall man stepped forward from the wall, pinching the eel with mantis-like arms. Comparable to a stick bug covered in karst camouflage and jointed bracelets, the creature hugged the eel while backing into the shadows. Sliding under the beetle’s chitin hull, The Australian pressed his back to the roof on all fours and started crawling toward his torch.

Wanting to be anywhere but right there, each inch gained required moving the torch forward, then sliding his bags. Now a troglodyte mimicking a tortoise’s defensive adaptation, the passive approach was slow but safe. With recent accumulations of natural resources hindering movement beneath the protective hull, a purging of nonessential weight began. Water stores were poured out, reducing the load drastically. The smell of crabs filled the shell hull as the greater majority emptied out onto the ground below. Now able to move freely, The Australian lifted the beetle shell on a flat back while holding the torch, walking forward one step at a time. Bumping into rock walls and unseen columns as he went, an adoption of the great eels movements began to take shape. Taking small steps forward, The Australian shifted the hull out in each direction to feel for obstacles in his way. Long arms reaching out in ambush scratched over the hard exterior, causing The Australian to drop in place.

Crawling through a gauntlet of slender stick creatures, every few hundred feet the ambush predators launched their attacks. Pausing for a moment in an attempt to secure the shell with raptorial forelegs, the insects released over the torch’s heat, sulking backward from where they emerged. Feeling hits in each direction, The Australian spun, sliding fire around the lower edge until pressure released. A winning strategy in a time of despair, survival meant adapting to unforgiving circumstances. With life and death separated by a chitin layer, The Australian took his time to overthrow the beast. Passive in nature though cunning, thought outweighed force in the crawl forward. Feeling the scraping knocks sporadically declining, The Australian pushed up the shell, crawling out to test a theory. Long gashes dug deep over the iridescent elytron, exposing thin membranous hindwing below. Punching the pickaxe’s point through a reinforced section above the scutellum, The Australian pushed the wooden handle through. Fashioned to be part umbrella, part war machine, The Australian held on to the handle inside the shell while walking upright.

Movement against the karst gave forewarning of an oncoming ambush. Able to see the insect clearly in light, aside from imitation karst camouflage and reflective gold rings around each leg, the creature’s uncanny human characteristics were unsettling. A tall, slender shell body combined into a narrow head with two white markings resembling eyes. Two legs rested on the ground while two forelegs held above as the stick figure blended against a shadowed backdrop. The Australian thought back to a geographic magazine he had read about an African tribe called the Zulu. Although appearing human from the front, a throbbing thorax planted vertically with long outstretched limbs against the wall spoke otherwise. Waiting for the stick man’s next move, The Australian stepped closer, ready to drop. Crouching down when the insect broke cover, The Australian slid backward under the creature’s embrace. Pushing the torch’s wooden handle up from below, hot metal hit the mantis’s underside. A sudden halt released into retreat, leaving the floor vacant. Looking through a peephole punctured through a broken leg joint, The Australian picked up his shell as the creature returned to the wall. Defeated, the stick mantis wrung its hands in place while The Australian spoke ill of its mother and father. Again, The Australian had found a break in his adversary’s armor, exploiting evolutionary instinct as a way to survive.

Bats, moving in a swarm, descended upon the creature by the thousands. Jubilant under his shell, The Australian’s heroes delivered cave justice to the monster without warning. In the light, a stick figure of a swarm danced as the limbs fell to the floor. With one eye looking through the hole, The Australian applauded the assault with a fist pump and a yell. All at once, thousands of screeching bats in a frenzy fell silent, then turned to look at The Australian hidden below his safety shell. At that very moment, three dog-sized bats landed in front of the swarm, looking now at The Australian. A rush of wind pushed through the peephole as the bats flew straight toward the shell. The beetle’s outer edge lifted, sliding backward with the swarm. In less than a second, bats both large and small surrounded the hollow exoskeleton. The smallest squeezed through holes, breaching into the inner layer. Holding onto the wooden handle, The Australian fought desperately to prevent the shell from flipping. With tiny bats filling the space inside, The Australian knew it was only a matter of time before he would be overrun. Death was the only plausible outcome in The Australian’s mind. Making his peace with God, The Australian let go of the handle, grabbing the satchel holding the three platypus while curling his body around them. Bats pushing through the lower edges piled on top of The Australian, flipping the shell with sheer volume. Screaming as tiny  bat-feet climbed over every inch, waiting for the bites to begin, The Australian cleared his mind, thinking of better days.

Licking like a pack of puppies, the bites never came. Although the pressure of the weight was slightly uncomfortable, the bats seemed more interested in the shell. Thousands of tongues hit The Australian at spontaneous intervals as bats coming and going tested what he was. Although not completely toothless, a natural result of high levels of mineral content within the cave left the bats’ mouths blunted. Within a minute from when the frantic taste test began, the bats began taking flight. Standing up through the docile pile, The Australian got to his feet, reclaiming scattered possessions. A bat-filled crab bag tumbled over the floor like an amorphous blob, changing directions, then starting a new course. Loose items, appearing in a wide proximity from where they began, littered the ground. Flipping over the shell was like seeing a new car in a showroom, shining iridescent green reflecting against the walls and ceiling. Each tool, bag, and clothing article looked as though it was brand new; even The Australian’s hair felt slick.

Although grateful for the bats’ curious makeover, large bats attempting to steal away bags in mid-flight was a small price to pay for protection against the stick mantis. Any bag left unattended was swooped down upon and picked up. Unable to carry more than a few pounds at once, large bats flapping above the ground had to be chased down. Feeling safe to walk freely outside his shell umbrella, The Australian inspected a now-broken stick mantis lying in pieces. Without a single bite mark, it appeared that the weight of the bats had caused fragile limbs to break off during the covering. Still moving when The Australian approached, the insect remained alive. Drained of vital hemolymph, the sparkling clean head stared intently at The Australian with white eye markings as he picked up the creature’s scythe-shaped foreleg.

Following the direction of where the cloud of bats had moved, The Australian walked toward sounds of clicks. Stepping to the camp’s outer reach, rhythmic click patterns intensified into percussive tribal sequences. Pulsating through dynamic ranges as a colony, deep clicks gave way to ultrasonic frequency. Communal in nature, the bats carried the festive sound, while The Australian drummed alongside. Feeling comfortable inside the cauldron, The Australian slept curled beneath the beetle’s hull, caught in a hypnotic trance.

Waking up to a war drum cadence of deep one-fourth notes, followed by a barrage of high-pitch twelfth and sixteenth notes in between, The Australian readied himself to enter center camp. Small bats, dropping down from above, clung to articles of clothing undisturbed by human presence. Walking into the main cauldron, The Australian pulled hundreds of curious bats hitching a free ride inside the beetle’s shell. Bat swarms, previously unaware of a foreign presence, rushed down for a lick. Although constantly being bombarded by hundreds of thousands of bats, The Australian kept his composure. After over a year underground without shaving, each bat swarm provided its own unique hair and beard styles for The Australian to wear until the next swarm came. Finally reaching the camp’s opposite perimeter, The Australian’s beard had been split down the middle, ending in points next to his ears; meanwhile, his hair had curled down to meet the beard’s points. Looking like a new-age hot shot Italiano with a lion’s mane, The Australian stared into his reflection against a polished beetle shell.

In the distance, echoing vibrant festivities in the heart of the colony ricocheted faintly against closing halls. Cold air, forced from a slot opening, sent chills up The Australian’s back. Damp, moisture-rich spray filled the cavity, drowning with a roaring of water. Unable to hear from outside, only feet inside the hallowed entrance, the camp’s pātē rhythms disappeared. Falling water from high above hit rock heavily, sending droplets flying in every direction. Eroded pools surrounding the waterfall’s outer ring spun in an Archimedean spiral around a tubular cut. Entering the outermost spiral, cold water washed over The Australian in a baptism, cleansing his stiffened coating. The freshest water he had ever drunk fell from the dark ceiling, refreshing The Australian’s thirst. Natural wonders from the depths never ceased to surprise. Living a nomadic life in a subterranean vault, resource replaced currency. Incomparably lucky to be alive, The Australian floated on his back, deep in thought, listening to the muted roar below the surface.

Reoccurring dreams of civilization always ended in torchlight. Distant thoughts of a new life started, lived in memory, reactivating in a subconscious state. Days passed to weeks traveling along the fault-like trail. Climbing, crawling, squeezing, and swimming through a barren metamorphic hallway, The Australian pressed on. Surviving on only trapped bats and groundwater, miles traveled within the Pacific causeway passed by undisturbed. Content with a transitional path not filled with monstrous animals, The Australian made his way below the Pacific Ocean en route toward Fiji’s southern coast. A labyrinth of dead-end corridors gave little hope of ever finding a way through. Now a wandering bat rancher, supplies had run thin. Devoid of fauna, the network crawled with microorganisms, giving nutrients to his herd, who in return provided The Australian the nutrients to last another day. Even after freeing the bats in a remorseful act of despair, they always returned to him. The symbiotic circus roamed through countless halls, covering a 500-mile stretch before reaching a passage below the island of Kadavu.

Reoccurring dreams of civilization always ended in torch light. Distant thoughts of a new life started lived in memory, reactivating in a subconscious state. Days passed to weeks traveling along the fault-like trail. Climbing, crawling, squeezing and swimming through a barren metamorphic hallway, The Australian pressed on. Surviving on only trapped bats and ground water, miles traveled within the Pacific causeway passed by undisturbed. Content with a transitional path not filled with monstrous animals, The Australian made his way below the Pacific Ocean en route towards Fiji’s southern coast.

A labyrinth of dead end corridors gave little hope of ever finding a way through. Now a wandering bat rancher, supplies had run thin. Devoid of fauna, the network crawled with microorganisms, giving nutrients to his herd, who in return provided The Australian the nutrients to last another day. Even after freeing the bats in a remorseful act of despair, they always returned to him. The symbiotic circus roamed through countless halls, covering a 500 mile stretch before reaching a passage below the island of Kadavu.

Unaware of how far the path had led or geographic position on a map, The Australian entered the last leg of his journey. Hard volcanic rock speckled in luminous growths opened to a garden. Seamlessly walking into a glowing opening, blue, green, yellow and red decked the halls in every available space. Only minutes from a geological dead zone, the radiant garden was a drastic opposing contrast. Each step released into an excitement of colors under weight, then slowly dimmed.

A plant looking similar lettuce or kale except sporting a luminary redline a quarter inch from the edge grew in patches waist high. The floor had grown soft with crumbled basalt as a sedimentary staple allowing the garden to thrive in peace from the outside world. Sitting on soft ground by a patch of the red seaweed like algae, The Australian began to break off stocks for bedding. Tasting like seaweed, bushels of the bushy greens were collected to eat.

Looking around the surrounding area a few other multicellular species and fungus were collect for sampling. A small blue bioluminescent algae caused The Australian to spit as the taste of luciferin filled his mouth. Green photoluminescent lichen became a first choice due to a taste comparable to sprouts. Bioluminescent mushrooms were forged carefully, tasting a small stem of the orange fungus, The Australian deemed them to be safe.

Forging in a short loop around camp, The Australian listened to an unfamiliar call ring out from a nearby patch. The bird like call caused The Australian to drop in place. Reaching for a chitin sword made from a stick mantis foreleg, The Australian waited for movement. High pitched whines called out again, a sound like the word “hing” repeated as the initial velocity decreased. Pulling back the vial of algae, The Australian stared down at a toad.

Cooking the foot long toad was easy enough compared to bats. Looking forward to a glowing meal of lichen, seaweed and mushrooms, The Australian sat patiently feeling like the day had gone well. Holding the toad like a rotisserie chicken, The Australian shoved a hand full of mushrooms and greens into his mouth as the toad cooled. Hungry for something other than bat, the toad remained skewered while The Australian bit down on a crispy thigh. Holding the top end of the metal rod with a strip of balled canvas inside his palm, The Australian pressed his fingers around toads head as he pulled away.

Pressure against the toads skin burst hot secretions from the parotid glands on the neck, hitting The Australian along the side of his mouth. Wiping the load off with leathery blades of red algae, The Australian continued to eat. Not knowing much about toads or ever eaten a toad, the taste to The Australian wasn’t bad.

Midway through the second bite, earth had seemed to dissolve. Like a zipper being pulled down, geometry rolled through the walls like an earthquake. Fearing the cave had begun to collapse, The Australian stood, looking at the neon colors reduce into multifaceted fractal waves then dropped the toad. Taking a step forward to run away, The Australian felt hot meat under his foot then a spray against his inner left leg.

Rolling his body to the match the motion of earth shaking, The Australian swayed back and forth to prevent himself from falling. Certain that world war three had begun, The Australian blamed the communist before falling flat on the ground. Shaking uncontrollably a sea of color swept through the cave while he screamed, “it’s a color bomb,” before going unconscious.

Whether it was seconds, minutes or hours was unknown but swirling visions of a toad king brought The Australian back to reality. The Australian, thinking of his mother and father caught in the color bombs fallout forced an immediate action to help them. Standing up with a stagger The Australian walked forward into the garden in search of a way out.

Feeling the effects what The Australian called, “parade-e-ation,” a colorful form of “radiation,” found a way to fight against it. The initial release had changed to euphoria, forgetting why he had panicked The Australian walked deeper into the glowing cave of wonders. Taking full advantage of the unique geological features, activities seemed to arise in the most unexpected of places.

Digging into the basalt pebbles, a nest was constructed then used to cover The Australian’s legs from the parade-e-ation with small lava rocks. Feeling now the color based warfare had been countered by Australian intelligence, The Australian’s mind began to refocus on more important matters. Burying his whole body up to his neck, The Australian meditated with only his head above the sedimentary surface layer.

Dancing became a way to send the color back towards the communist. Using hand fulls of glowing algae, The Australian used a mix of tai-chi and karate to break off on coming waves of rainbows trapped in the atmosphere. Swinging the lit pickaxe torch in circles with his eyes closed, allowed to The Australian to channel “feel-good, radio-waves,” issued by the Australian military.  Without realizing what had happened the Australian actually thwarted the gardens apex predator as he spun. A 20ft pit viper covered in orange fugal growths slithered away unnoticed after being struck after it lashed out. A collection of toads began inside a nearby nest, in an effort to preserve the species from “Parade-e-o-active,” particles trapped in the cave. Each toad was partially buried, leaving only the tops of their heads exposed inside the nest. Gifted by luck and in honor of the wartime efforts The Australian picked up a diamond off the ground. As a reward for The Australian, a diamond larger than any known diamond in human history rested in the palm of his hand.

Continuing to eat the mushrooms, the hallucinations intensified until The Australian decided he didn’t want to eat anymore mushrooms. The effects of the 5-MeO-DMT and psilocybin continued for three days. On the fourth day the effects had dissipated, now thinking clearly The Australian retraced his steps using a trail of pulled algae stocks and abandoned nest to locate his personal belongings.

Finding camp exactly the way he had left it, the toad laid where it fell. Starving and thirsty The Australian found the platypus to have wondered off as well. Tracking three slide trails into the garden, 50 yards in the opposite direction from where The Australian left, found the three basking along side a freshwater oasis.

Clear water pools full of prawns and tadpoles ran out of a wall then snaked out of sight as a stream. Taking the platypus advice, The Australian moved camp close to the waters edge. Collecting more than enough prawns for a proper meal, The Australian shared a peaceful dinner next to the platypus trio. Still sure Australian intelligence had countered the parade-e-ration with a feel-good radio wave device, The Australian slept easy.

Things in the underground didn’t always make sense until known-to-science barriers were broken. After all the magnificent creatures The Australian had witnessed firsthand, nothing out of the ordinary came as a surprise. Raw, uncut diamonds sparkled along the ground in the torchlight  pass over. Catching the eye of The Australian, a zigzag pattern marked the stream’s edge as the minerals were collected. Added weight inside the beetle sled dragged heavy along the basalt stones. Practicality began to outweigh fortune, with the glimmer of untouched diamonds were reluctantly passed by. An almost painful feeling swept over The Australian when diamonds were kicked aside. Piles of the luxurious mineral sat dormant inside the garden by the millions. Taking only choice specimens, The Australian passed into a transition exit of high fractured basalt and andesite.

Again, the corridor became barren within only a few meters from the exit point. Making an adjustment to the sled’s hull to match the hard stone surface, diamonds wedged between a crack in the beetle’s forewings reduced friction against the ground. Scraping through the straight for days, collected prawns began running out. The point of no return had passed by, leaving The Australian in a bind. Resting to ponder available options, a decision was made to move forward until the next sleep, then turn back if a break failed to appear. Laying down to sleep, The Australian watched air push the torch’s flame. Knowing he must be close to something, The Australian slept.

Sticking to the plan of action, hours went by dragging the sled. Stopping while debating turning around to start a life in the neon garden, a sound rang through the slot corridor. A bell’s toll hit The Australian’s ears as he waited for the sound to hit again. Listening intently, the call was answered by a faint ringing in the distance, then stopped. Within an hour of walking, the cave floor became a mess of nesting birds. Stacked remains of fallen nests lifted off the ground, seamlessly transferring up the walls. Chirps erupted in active nests while The Australian climbed the woven hill. Small birds swooped down in defense of their hatchlings tucked between the basalt slabs.

Pulling a hefty load up what felt like a stiff hay bale, The Australian reached the peak. A vertical ramp tear-out dropped into a smooth curve below. Almost as if multiple attempts to climb the pile had caused the hill to give way, the broken segment’s 40-foot ramp would have to be traversed. Birds swiping at The Australian as he rummaged eggs from a low-placed nest drew blood. With angry birds pecking at his eyes and ears, The Australian pulled the beetle shell to the edge, climbed inside, and leaned forward. Chalk white glowed orange in a strobing flame as The Australian faced the ground.

A free fall forward connected against the bird ramp’s surface with a crunch. Fire from the torch wavered to wind as The Australian’s boxcar beetle shell gained immense speed. Sounds of hard chitin sliding over dried woven nesting materials and the rush of wind were all The Australian heard. Still not even halfway down the slope, inertia caused The Australian’s stomach to drop while he clutched the upper edge. Splashing down into collected waste caught inside the radius, sounds of broken plant matter turned to a smooth glide. Almost like ice, the shell skimmed the surface with a hiss.

With the most extreme transition high above him, The Australian hit the flat straightaway at full tilt. After streaking over soaked ground litter, the sled began to slow. Skidding in an uncontrolled spin, the shell’s rail tipped, scooping the floor and spilling The Australian out in a roll. Covered head to toe in white splatter, a triumphant, adrenaline-fueled yell echoed through the hall. Birds took flight in a rush through the corridor, then turned a sharp corner. A light at the end of the tunnel pressed gently against a flat wall. Gathering what he could off the woven white floor, The Australian followed the birds to the end.

A ninety-degree turn opened into open air. Blinded by ultraviolet rays, The Australian squinted, allowing his eyes to adjust. Stepping out of the dark fracture, a soft light of a cathedral canyon filtered into view. In disbelief at the drastic change to the lit chamber, The Australian walked forward, looking up at a vast crystalline vein running through the ceiling. Waves of light coursed across the skylight in segmented intervals, creating prismatic pulses rippling outward, then beginning again. Ferns, shrubs, and trees covered the ground, blocking a clear view of the landscape beyond.

The Australian’s first steps into the cathedral marked the start of a new life underground. Migrating into the unknown, The Australian had reached paradise beneath the earth.

Unlike the others, The Australian had breached a pathway midway through the northwest wall, then walked a diagonal southeastern line. After being captured by short dicks, The Australian was freed by a female tribe member, then walked straight across to the opposite wall. Along a southern course toward New Zealand, a communal melting-pot civilization led by reptilians dubbed “overlords” accepted The Australian into the city after he presented his diamonds. Living 52 years as a military advisor and strategist against the fly-people, The Australian had found his place. Without contact with the outside world or other survivors inside the cave, the story of William Cameron remained a mystery until 2025. Although few immediate family members remain, contact has been made, letting his story be known to living relatives. Now renowned as the world’s number one spelunker and a leading researcher on subterranean geology, the world will grow as a whole hearing The Australian’s accumulated geological research.

Uncharted territory—

Jelly-whisp. Raven. Isabelline. Southern merfolk.—

Fallen revenants of modern day, innovation from the past supplement intelligence among empathetic beings. Evidence of Spanish conquistadors, tribal leaders, pirates, and missionaries live on within the cathedral as knowledge passed down to later generations. The survivors, knowing the formidable challenge of navigating the Cathedral, all remained in close proximity to an equatorial divide. Dangers that lay beyond had been avoided, with each witness choosing community over exploration. Without the need to go further, the mystery of vast space was left open.

By using advanced technology to scan great distances in short periods of time, the underworld expanse has now been mapped. Artificial intelligence designed to flag biometric and techno-signatures of evolved life aboard aerial drones have reached the furthest corners of the caverns, relaying video imagery in real time.

Past the cathedral’s CNT-Quartz central cluster, warmth and light begin to decrease. Due to the tapering decline of the ceiling’s height, ultraviolet light only runs through a narrow crystalline vein. Classified as a dark zone, life has adapted to high amounts of luciferin energy. Cold light produced in biochemical reactions acts as a staple among intelligent beings. Adaptation as a direct result of the bioluminescent plains.

Like the sun to the earth, thriving ecosystems inside calderas with high UV exposure and high temperature grow sparse the further away from the central energy source. Inhospitable jungles, swamps, and prairies exist south of the cathedral’s equator; each section remains dominated by apex species. Other than a few outposts of migrating Sweethearts, only one known civilization was found within the southern territory.

One hundred miles past the Mecca’s central ceiling, a group of merfolk who migrated a hundred thousand years previously has built an empire within the primal zone. Anatomically identical to the northern merfolk, higher UV levels in photosynthetic organisms have caused the tribe to appear green rather than blue. The city’s fortress, protected by an outer wall, remains isolated by a pseudo rain forest caused by condensation collected on the ceiling above. Inhabited mainly by southern merfolk, inhabitants include nomadic travelers from various intelligent tribes who have reached the city walls by chance. High towers overlooking a clearing warn the city of veracious carnivores that stalk the tree line. A descendant of allosaurus poses a constant threat to the inner civilization. Hunting in a bird-like fashion, the predators wait in hiding inside the forest, never leaving sight of the city. Testing the structure for weak points, the carnivores approach in the dark hours nightly. A daily communal chore of rebuilding damaged corridors is followed by a nighttime counterattack of rocks and spears against attacking dinosaurs. Caught in a repeating cycle, very few survive life outside the walls.

Further south, air temperatures drop drastically as trees give way to tan grass prairies. A no-man’s land dominated by prehistoric big cats, the prairie remains a prey funnel for wandering animals. Crossing long ago, surviving groups of Sita and Sweethearts passed through into the dark zone, colonizing the bioluminescent plains of algae. Overtime, evolutionary changes caused by hybridization in two hominid subtypes passed genetic lineage of a third now extinct subgroup. Taller than their northern cousins, the “Isabelline” established an isolated society inside the safety of the dark zone. The name was given to the group by one Spanish explorer who managed to cross the length of the cathedral. By introducing modern “Y” chromosomes to the tribe over 500 years, dominant genetic traits passed down from the Spaniard. Once strictly blond, evolved self-reproducing female hermaphrodite hominid, have now become genetic carriers producing black-haired and blue-eyed XY-XX genders. A community of male and female Isabelline live at a threshold entrance of the dark zone. Unable to survive in colder sections beyond, the tribe stands as a view into evolutionary genetics among humans.

Passing through the cathedral’s dark zone, within only a twenty-mile gap, higher levels of methane gas prevent almost all mammal habitation. Acting as the cathedral’s twilight zone, two intelligent non-mammal inhabitants remain. Invertebrates capable of complex emotions, thought processes, and sociological structure, a highly evolved descendant of siphonophores now possess intelligence. A combination of low oxygen and methane-filled organs allows for the species to float above the ground weightlessly. First to be found, a bioluminescent tribe of cloaked jellyfish-like entities have been given the name “Raven,” as a visual parallel to a popular superhero. Glowing in radiant illumination, the tribe fabricates coveralls out of digested alginate to prevent being spotted by a larger, but lesser evolved siphonophore. Social dynamics involve drifting over algae blooms for nutrient-rich building materials to make teepee-cone living structures. By pressing extending zooids along surfaces, Ravens pull themselves around as a single reactive colony. Without a definitive lifespan apart from predation, Ravens are capable of living indefinitely.

Living two miles away, a second intelligent siphonophore was found. Walled off by invisible atmospheric gases, a colony named Jelly-whisp for their pink translucent balloon form remain locked into small quadrants which are tended like corals for small lesser evolved siphonophores. The Jelly-whisp use their flock as harvesting carriers to process nutritional algae supplies. In simple terms, without zooids capable of chewing alginate cellulose, the Jelly-whisp rely on the Jelly-cows to chew for them. In return, the Jelly-whisp disperse phosphorous water and digested nitrogen to fertilize new algae blooms. Capable of living millions of years, the Jelly-whisp remain continuously repeating the same cycle. The Jelly-whisp dip a zooid extension in a nearby pool of water, spreading over algae, then pet the Jelly-cows to collect digestible nutrients. Possessing extreme hive-like intelligence and vast electrosensory capabilities, within five minutes of contact the Jelly-whisp fully understood the English language.

-Cathedral life-

-Baxdad exclusive sneak peak-

Among all the cathedral’s survivors, a recurring theme stands as a hallmark cornerstone—Adaptation. Adjusting to a world below earth meant pivoting from conventional mindsets into a primal state. Although life was hostile, the shift in mentality to fit every situation individually became a foundation for continuation. All was not lost of their former selves in the presence of adversity; each survivor grew stronger with time to provide a diverse perspective and outlook unique unto themselves. Given the extreme dynamics, personality acted as a bargaining chip to integrate with other intelligent life, preserving what would be an almost certain end. Allies forged through fear had become friends sharing mutual communal interest. Whether it be tribal warfare, medical insight, or innovative advancement, each survivor gave back to the cathedral in their own way as a tribute. With a final adieu to the lives lived on the surface, common knowledge gained had been injected into the most unlikely of places. Mind, body, and soul were forced to adapt in an effort to retain a sense of self inside the primal world below.

—By exploring the stories of everyday life, each survivor will be highlighted to share their own personal experiences inside the cathedral.—

YouTuber #1 – Merfolk

Catching up with YouTuber #1’s story gives an inside look at what it was like living amongst a group of highly evolved mollusks. After being separated from the group of four, YouTuber #1 ran right until reaching a sheer barrier wall connecting to the ceiling. Following the wall forward, hoping anyone still alive in the group of four would move to the closest geological landmark, #1 used natural break formations as shelter against any predator that may have pursued him into the ferns. Only four miles from the cathedral’s entrance tunnel, the first signs of intelligent habitation appeared. Stone worktables stationed around a quarry gave YouTuber #1 an initial impression of a human presence. To #1, thoughts of the lost explorer from the cave were his only logical guess. Inspecting the craftwork laid out on the tables, #1 held up an unfinished braid with multiple rounded stones bound at the ends of four completed weaves. Impressed with the intricately detailed knot work, YouTuber #1 held onto the mysterious item, trying to figure out exactly what it was. The fibrous woven star-shaped piece resembled a basket crafted among Indigenous tribes. A wide spiral braid base in the center had been fastened with cordage to form the shape of a pentagon; each point narrowed into tight solid braids, ending with wrappings around a round rock at the end of each braid. Laying the intricate weave down flat, #1 was reminded of a brittle star. As the crafted design stood nearly complete with four of the five braids fixed with stones, it became clear to #1 that this item must be used for defensive purposes.

#1, thinking that an Italian version of Turok* had been living here this whole time like the movie Jumanjji, made sense given the circumstances. Making a throwable pizza-like weapon would surely be the most natural choice in design for a shipwrecked member of the Italian mafia. To YouTuber #1 this was his only explainable answer. Picking up the star-shaped weapon, YouTuber #1 spun it in the air in the way a pizza cook would spin a pizza. As expected, the rocks pulled outward, flattening the middle basket weave before falling to the ground. Feeling more confident that this was in fact used to throw, YouTuber #1 picked the star up again and threw it like a frisbee. As the flat woven middle left his hand the rocks spun outward, hitting #1 above the ear as the braids unfurled. Stunned and wincing from the sudden impact, YouTuber #1 fell to the ground, feeling his hair for any signs of a cut. Taking a moment to let the shock pass, #1 listened to the sounds surrounding him as a gargled yell rang out from the ferns behind. Quick to act, #1 grabbed the rock-star and moved into the cover of the ferns. Hiding with a visual of the stone tables, the sound appeared again. Fearing that one of his friends might be injured nearby, or held prisoner by the Italian man, #1 moved closer to the sound. Preparing to take the Florida man by surprise, YouTuber #1 crawled through the foliage.

A clearing opened on the opposite side of the ferns. Concealed by the cover of vegetation, #1 peered out from below. A pit in the center of the clearing spread out across open ground. Unable to see over the edge, #1 waited for a sign. Pausing to listen, again the ominous sound billowed clearly from below the pit’s edge. Running across the clearing, YouTuber #1 looked down to a garden of heads struggling to free themselves from the ground. Unlike anything he had ever seen, the heads were definitely not human, each still alive in various states of fatigue. Looking like a cabbage patch of aliens, the entities squirmed at the sight of #1. Grappling with fear, YouTuber #1 backed away slowly. Faces with shrimp eyes and reflective shell growth gargled as #1 turned to run.

Approaching 48 hours after first stepping into the cathedral, YouTuber #1 ran as though it was the pits of hell. Nothing made sense inside the prison he was now lost in. Hearing breaking ferns crunch from behind, #1 was now being chased. Panicking at unidentifiable pursuers, YouTuber #1 froze, turning around in surrender. From out of the tall ferns a woven star flew through the air, wrapping around his legs and hitting him in the testicles. Dropping to the ground in immense pain, #1 watched a second star fly through the air then wrap around his neck before the rocks knocked him unconscious.

Waking upside down above the ground, #1’s wrists and ankles were now bound over a single pole. Two of the giant creatures nearly identical to the ones inside the pit stood on opposite ends of the pole as they moved through a well-beaten path. Both seemed to be speaking to each other, fully aware of the vocalizations in context. Within four hours, more entities began appearing alongside. Beings only thought up in fairytales lived amongst one another in an established community. The first thing YouTuber #1 noticed upon entering the stronghold was the extreme differentiation between genders. What appeared to be female Merfolk followed the two Merfolk men in groups, swooning over them as though they were beloved celebrities. Completely blue, the female Merfolk looked far less hostile than their male counterparts. Calcium carbonate mixed with protein, glycoprotein, and polysaccharides caused biological-genetic variables, giving each Merfolk woman a unique cranial shell feature. Almost like a personalized hairstyle, the shells decorated the upper portion of a face. Compared to the Merfolk men’s one large forearm plate, mantis-shrimp-like resemblance, and 40-inch mating mantle, the women shared visual human characteristics. Although there was no mammalian connection, each Merfolk woman had visually distinct facial features complete with two eyes, a nose, mouth, and ear holes. Sliding upright behind the two Merfolk men, an enclave began to form as they carried YouTuber #1 past giant scallop-like beds used as homesteads. Huge in size, the entities loomed over #1 as the exodus proceeded further into a natural pocket along the cathedral’s wall.

Placing YouTuber #1 down on a flattened stone altar, thousands of Merfolk emerged along the cliffs, front-flipping off the edge and landing belly-first on the ground. Completely unaffected by the great fall’s distance, the creatures returned upright, filling in the pocket’s steps like an amphitheater. An elder Merfolk dressed in braided coverings moved closer to YouTuber #1, echoing gargled vocalizations to the crowd. With two Merfolk holding the pole upright, YouTuber #1 stood facing a steep cliff speckled with blue and rust-red beings. Pleas for mercy were amplified across the open theater as what #1 assumed was a chief figure picked up a ceremonial hook-shaped staff. Pointing the staff’s bound rock end at YouTuber #1, the chief continued the vocalizations toward the cliffs then lifted the staff above his head. The amphitheater grew silent as #1 began to cry, begging for his life as he closed his eyes. A call in the distance echoed back from the cliffs. Looking up to see a blue flash front-flipping over the edge, the chief paused. The long sliding strides of a female Merfolk grew closer. Rushing across the open ground, the blue Merfolk entered the stone’s ring, making a series of distressed bubbling sounds as she approached the chief. Watching the dramatic entrance unfold, YouTuber #1 felt his phone inside his pocket. Sliding two fingers around the edge, YouTuber #1 was able to pull the phone from his pocket. Desperately unlocking the device next to his hip, by memory #1 pressed the screen where pictures were located. Attempting to show the entities sentimental images of life on the surface, family photos, and videos of his travels, #1 opened a saved album. Selecting a musical slideshow, YouTuber #1 held the volume button to max as soft music began to play. Fingers stretched in an awkward position across the screen slid over sensitive glass, activating the app-switcher and opening the next tab over while #1 held the phone out for all to see. Pornography with the volume all the way up filled the amphitheater’s cliffs. Blushing at the accidental porno reveal, YouTuber #1 dropped the phone by his feet as the crowd gasped.

The chief looked down at the screen in disbelief, mesmerized by what he was seeing. Looking up at YouTuber #1, the chief pointed at the phone screen with a fingerless appendage, then pointed at #1 while making bubbling sounds. Summoning the two Merfolk men to look, the chief made a low gargle as the three crouched around the phone. The two Merfolk guards lifted the pole while pressing the Chinese finger-trap-like wrist bindings together, freeing YouTuber #1. Falling to his knees, YouTuber #1 picked up the phone and held it with outstretched arms in a bow. Offering the phone as a gift, the chief pointed to himself then pointed to the phone as #1 nodded, extending the phone forward in tribute. Sounds of the downloaded porno scene continued to ring out across the open-air theater while the chief held the phone high above his head, showing the onlookers lining the cliffs. A roar of gargled bubbling clicks erupted from the community in celebration. Distant blue and red figures could be seen front-flipping off the cliff’s edge, hitting the ground, then racing toward the circular stone stage.

Whether it was an act of God or purely by chance, the pornographic video had saved YouTuber #1’s life. What would be considered a hedonistic or sociosexual civilization to the modern-day human, to the Merfolk a matriarchal “Bonobo society” structure was an essential evolutionary design on which their survival depended. Thousands of Merfolk crowded around the stage as the chief placed the phone on a stone altar. Seeing the phone as an extension of YouTuber #1, the perspective of hostility had turned to welcoming. The two Merfolk captors picked YouTuber #1 up, placing him between their shoulders and carrying him as the tribe worshiped the pornographic relic. Now a hero to the Merfolk, YouTuber #1 was accepted as an honorary member of the tribe. For two days, Merfolk gathered around the phone’s altar praying until the battery died. Falling asleep due to extreme fatigue amidst the celebrations, YouTuber #1 woke in the mouth of a giant clamshell bed. As a gift from the chief, #1 was given a clam homestead of his own, marking the beginning of his tribal life within the Merfolk.

The Australian – Pantless Men

Transitioning into the abundance of the cathedral was a seamless augmentation for The Australian. Now an expert hunter and trapper, The Australian flourished inside the sepia light within the halls. Recognizable days and nights came and went while The Australian reveled in his newly discovered environment. Although his abilities to thrive came naturally, extreme caution was taken exploring new ground. From very early on the apparent danger of unidentifiable fauna became clear. Strange creatures roaming through the perimeter of the bird cave’s entrance passed by as The Australian hid nearby. Living a non-fiction journey to the center of the earth, The Australian watched in amazement at the assortment of seemingly prehistoric stowaways that filled the cathedral’s walls. Dinosaurs trapped below the earth had survived frozen in isolation from the outside world above.

Mild-mannered herbivores grazed nutrient-rich soils near the cave’s entrance daily. Two weeks after entering, The Australian had made a camp under a stone overhang facing the bird cave fissure. Taking no chances upon the herd’s daily arrival, stones were stacked in front of the small entrance. Fascinated by the elegant demeanor of dwarf sauropods and large ceratopsians, The Australian studied their behaviors from a safe distance. Each day the herd filled into the lowland space like clockwork, allowing for detailed visual analysis of each individual species. Taking a chance after failing to secure the stone barrier, The Australian sat inside the overhang viewing the spectacle uncovered. Honks from the valley foreground notified The Australian that his presence had not gone unnoticed. Anticipating a response, the majority of the herd moved toward the opposite side of the valley as one large sauropod walked directly toward the mid-cliff overhang. Staying calm as the long-necked dinosaur approached, The Australian grabbed leafy branches used for bedding, making a pile of foliage near the overhang’s entrance. Vibrations shot through the ground in the sauropod’s presence; with a deafening honk the animal’s neck lowered, consuming the pile of leaves with one bite. Laughing at the dinosaur’s peaceful demeanor, The Australian grabbed the rest of the leaves, holding two branches out in front of his body. A few moments of chewing followed before the sauropod leaned in again, taking the branches from The Australian’s hands as he placed a hand on the creature’s cheek. Lifting again to chew, the sauropod turned, revealing deep scars stretching over the broadside of an enormous midsection. Without a glance back, the long-necked dinosaur walked away, returning to the herd along the opposite wall.

Seeing this as a sign of good faith, The Australian remained exposed for the duration of his stay. Humbled by the magnitude of his experience, The Australian used the remaining light to forage for new bedding. On the edge of the clearing, dense vegetation covered the opposite side of a shallow stream. Dropping the platypuses off at the rocky shoreline, The Australian crossed over a wide section of moving water then entered into the forest. With light of day dwindling into a red glow, The Australian stacked piles of branches along the shore then returned into the dense growth for one last load.

Chirps and croaks had disappeared as The Australian picked up the last of the collected branches. Undeterred by the sudden change in sound, a red line lifted up the walls then disappeared, turning the cathedral purple. Stopping only to spark a torch made from millipede castings with calcium carbide rolled inside, The Australian turned to pick up the remaining branches. Looking into the forest, The Australian noticed the trees move. Holding the fire up high, a yellow shine reflected between the branches. Two deep breaths passed as adrenaline coursed through The Australian’s body. Knowing all too well the premise of danger, The Australian dropped the branches and ran through the dense vegetation.

Snapping twigs followed from behind The Australian as he ducked under outstretching limbs. In the fire’s light a stocky man appeared on the opposite side of the thicket. Running at full speed, caught off guard by another human’s presence, The Australian saw a bewildered look on the man’s face before colliding. Both men fell as the torch dropped alongside. Picking himself off the ground, The Australian grabbed at the short man’s heavy arms, pointing in the direction from where he came, warning him of the danger. A dull look followed with babbling yells as the strange-looking man got to his feet. The Australian continued his warnings as the man stared blankly into his eyes. More men partially covered from the waist up emerged from the vegetation; each pantless man spoke in indistinguishable grunts. The Australian couldn’t help but notice that each one had pubic hair longer than their penises. Snapping out of the momentary size comparison, The Australian pointed at the trees again, pleading with the men to heed his warning. Turning to pick up the torch, the pantless man grabbed The Australian as he turned. Now fighting to free himself from the naked man’s grasp, The Australian heard branches break from behind. A black creature sprang through the glow, running upright on two feet. Breaking free with a slap across the primitive man’s face, The Australian watched an open mouth engulf the confused man.

Running as the pantless man lifted off his feet inside the mouth of the long-clawed creature, The Australian urged the others to run away. As if the disappearance of their companion hadn’t just happened, the odd-looking group stood still looking confused. Picking up his torch, The Australian abandoned all hope of communication, fleeing in fear. A series of grunts issued a charge as the men followed the torchlight through the forest. Turned around as a result of the chase, The Australian moved in unfamiliar territory. Pantless stragglers passed by The Australian as he entered an unknown clearing.

Looking back in the last moments of daylight, The Australian caught a glimpse of the hunting party emerging out of the clearing in pursuit. Short legs seemed to hit overdrive in the sparse landscape. With astounding speed the pantless men had closed the gap. Gasping for breath, The Australian was overrun within only a few hundred yards from the forest edge. The pantless men hit at The Australian until he lay still, dragging him in the direction he ran by his ankles. Through swollen eyes, The Australian could see more pantless men and women joining the group. Fighting over who would hold the torch, The Australian was left alone on the ground while pantless hunters took turns wielding the flame. Unsure of how the orange glow worked, each hunter took turns holding the flame. Some held the fire like spun sugar, attempting to eat the flame as a meal; others held the torch upside down or close to their bodies until the heat became unable to hold. Gawping yells of pain and frustration followed each torch-bearer’s attempt at harnessing the power of fire. Two of the pantless men lay dead on the ground after multiple attempts. Understanding the rudimentary psychology of his captors, The Australian pushed himself backwards in the darkness.

With confusion conquered, a pantless man had figured out the flame. By holding the torch straight in front of himself the new alpha jousted fire at any man who came too close. As a group the hunting party turned only to find an empty space where The Australian had laid. Watching the pantless men check under rocks and parted bushes, The Australian hid behind a small hill. A dark shadow moved out of the forest into the clearing, stalking the outer edges of the group. The long black creature walked on two legs holding enormous three-clawed fingers on each hand as it crept behind the party. Turning to face the creature, the fire-wielding alpha male poked the flame between its legs before the jaws clamped down around him. A second shadow emerged from the tree line, sprinting toward the hunters as they ran to claim the fallen torch. In disbelief at the lack of intelligence, The Australian peered over the hill waiting for a chance to move.

One by one the pantless hunters were dragged away as the battle for fire superiority continued. The night stalkers stood close by eating their catch then returned for more. As the two various carnivores dragged the newest alpha male to the open clearing, The Australian made his escape. Breaking cover from behind the hill, The Australian ran to a nearby rock pile. Still only 50 yards away from the fight, the now hairless hunters paid no attention as he crossed open ground. The groin-jabbing had evolved into two pantless men both holding the end of the torch as the rest of the group circled around them. Again a jet-black dinosaur broke through the line, pulling both away from the torch. Waiting for an optimal moment to move, The Australian watched the torch fall then get picked up and run away with. A pantless straggler emerged from the dark running at full speed with the newly claimed torch above his head, moving straight toward The Australian.

In only a few seconds the naked straggler ducked behind the same rock pile as The Australian. A brief moment passed as the man sat behind the rocks without noticing The Australian. Still holding the fire above his head, the man jumped when seeing The Australian crouching only feet away. The Australian, now being poked in the crotch with his own torch, ran for the hills. Running past an angry mob of hairless beings, The Australian chose a singular direction away from the commotion and moved to higher ground. Through the dark, yells in the distance grew faint.

Following the stream to a small waterfall, The Australian climbed a side wall to the mesa above. Finally free from the pantless horde, The Australian struggled to catch his breath. Standing on the side of the river with hands above his head, deep breaths filled The Australian’s lungs. Turning to the sound of a rock rolling from behind, The Australian glimpsed a log flying through the air before his vision blurred. Sliding over stones, The Australian fell backwards as the world went black.

Slow to open his eyes, a throbbing pain ran through The Australian’s jawline. Realizing movement had been restricted to his arms and legs, The Australian squirmed in place, wrapped tight in a leathery material. Memories of the night before crashed back as the sight of a crude camp came into view. A voice higher in pitch with the same primitive cadence called out from inside a pile of branches stacked over rocks. A single pantless female crawled out from the shelter covered in what once was an animal hide. Vines had been wrapped around The Australian’s body, anchored by a giant rock on each side. Only able to lift his head off the ground, The Australian pushed hard against his papoose to no avail. Unsure of what she was or how far he had been taken, The Australian watched the stocky woman place a bird nest on her head then bite meat off a bone. Although nearly human in appearance, the woman’s short legs and long arms seemed disproportionate to her body. Unlike the pantless males’ exaggerated chests, the female’s breasts nearly dropped to her waistline. Messy-haired and dirty, the primitive being was unconcerned about hygiene or mannerisms.

The Australian had always been taught to treat women with kindness; even with the evolutionary gap, attempts at civil communication were made while bound. Without being able to speak clearly, The Australian motioned toward the woman to get her attention. Seeing his call, the pantless woman tore a bone off an animal in the shelter and began pushing it into The Australian’s mouth. Partially gagging, The Australian dropped the meat by his side. Noticing the food had fallen, the strange woman picked the bone up and forced it back into The Australian’s face. Small pebbles covered The Australian’s face as he pressed his lips firmly together. Reaching his breaking point, The Australian wiggled back and forth, yelling that he didn’t want the bone. With a confused look the woman paused before slapping him back; accepting defeat, The Australian pretended to enjoy the bone as he nibbled off the meat.

Feeling like things could be worse, The Australian felt as though the art of seduction might be his only chance to escape. Small gestures to get the nomadic female’s attention passed by unnoticed. Using as much charm as one could with only a head sticking out of a leathery papoose, The Australian winked, nodded, and whistled every time she came near. In an effort to loosen the grasp of the dinosaur-hide wrapping, one arm was able to squeeze through the head hole. Primitive as she was, it seemed the persistent charming had worked. Although The Australian’s only true love had perished in the caves of Undara, survival meant doing anything and everything possible to survive the night; in this particular scenario, anything and everything was a dirty cave woman. Petting The Australian’s hair, the muscularly built humanoid pushed the rocks out, unraveling his tamale-type wrappings. Without going into extreme detail, the deed was done.

Feeling like he needed to lay down in a river, The Australian snuck off as the pantless woman slept. All but two miles from where it all began, The Australian took his walk, following slide marks from where he was dragged. Using the cliff face as a reference, The Australian made his way to the clearing. Giant three-toed footprints covered the ground without a living pantless man in sight. Carnage from the aftermath gave glimpses of the unfortunate fates of the hard-fought battle. Pantless men lying motionless with severe burns on arms and pubic regions covered the battlefield. The final champion, hairless to the ankles, held the torch till he died. The Australian, recognizing the river, walked through the water without entering the forest. Walking around the next bend, the clearing was filled with sauropods and ceratopsians as usual. A tail slap on top of the water hit from behind as a platypus swam around The Australian’s ankles. Following suit, the four made their way back to the mid-cliff overhang. Packing what little he had, The Australian set off in search of a new shelter.

Party of Two – Honey-Hair

Time spent recovering inside the protected walls of the citadel was a peaceful refuge compared to the outer walls. The Finn and The Denverite had grown closer together, unified by a mutual respect for one another. A deep love blossomed from the traumatic circumstances and timely rescue. Learning the ways of the city, long walks were taken through the cobblestone streets as The Finn became immersed in the citadel’s culture. Communal in nature, the white women knew nothing of money; resources relied on foraging in groups and refinement. The platinum-haired women responded in signals rather than speech; plagued with partial deafness, the first weeks were spent lost in translation.

Still untrusting of a male’s presence, The Denverite proved his worth to the community by peacefully agreeing to remain outside the city. The first weeks went by separated, with The Denverite sleeping behind the front entrance and a secondary confinement wall. Unable to communicate to the council, The Finn remained inside the stone pyramid, visiting The Denverite daily. Disputes with the leaders over authenticity were conducted through drawings and hand gestures. Repeatedly denying requests to let The Denverite inside the city, the elder used mitten-like hands to form an inch-long gap, then held the shape to her waist. Convinced The Denverite was short-dicked, the lead elder always used the same inch-gap gesture, pointing in the direction of the entrance while shaking her head in refusal. The Finn, looking for anatomical justice, made drawings of the size difference with charcoal on bark, but the answer remained crossed arms.

Conversing through a small hole became a daily ritual for the two remaining survivors. Frustrations of the council’s decisions could be understood by open ears willing to listen. A break came two weeks after entering, with the eldest council leader giving birth to a second child, thus completing her life cycle. A communal procession followed every fallen sister almost daily; the shortened lifespans ended in a ceremonial ritual of walking members through the city on a bed of white flowers to a waterway cut under the city’s walls. Deeply spiritual of the sky and earth, the Citadel released fallen members on the flower-covered raft to drift through a flower-covered archway opening to a riverside garden along the opposite side. Catching a glimpse of the elder leader pass on a ceremonial raft as she walked by, The Finn ran to tell her companion the news. The new council woman, a witness present the day The Denverite carried The Finn to the gate, granted immediate access for his entrance. Sharing a single room within the pyramid, The Finn and Denverite began their love unobstructed.

Weeks passed by contributing knowledge of modern practices while learning the ways of the Citadel. Becoming active members in the society, the two survivors were given free range to come and go as they pleased. Moving as part of a daily group, the days were spent collecting flowers and fruit. Volcanic activity had made the cathedral rich in mineral growth, causing the fields to glimmer as they worked. Calling The Finn over to watch the red-line light move across the cathedral’s wall, The Denverite dropped to one knee, presenting a braided band made of twisted flower vines and raw diamonds. The two kissed in purple light as the nightly bells rang out in the distance. Finding peace within each other, the cathedral, and their new home, pale women surrounded the two, showering them with white flowers as they passed.

For two years life was lived without worry of the world above. Easy days ended in a single bed, safe from the primal existence beyond the walls. Unable to build a family as a result of a vasectomy, primary focus was placed onto civilizational duties. As beloved members inside the walls, the pair considered the Citadel as their new family. Due to missing genetic sequences, simple tasks requiring digit-based dexterity caused complications for the Citadel. Basic medical practices expedited by the use of five-fingered hands became the two survivors’ area of expertise in the city. Using the main pyramid as a clinic, lines of inhabitants filed in daily. The Finn, a registered nurse, and The Denverite, an EMT in training, both studying to be emergency responders before entering the cathedral, worked to preserve health to the best of their ability.

Growing comfortable amongst the peaceful society, very few exploratory ventures were taken outside the secure valley perimeter. Other than a single black carnivore that had breached the river wall, very limited knowledge of what lay beyond was accumulated in their time spent behind high walls. Unable to know exactly what to call the white-haired women of the Citadel, The Finn referred to them as “Blondes.”

The thought that this was a singular civilization was broken the day four women closely resembling the Citadel were rushed to the pyramid clinic for urgent medical attention. Found wandering through the outer valley’s edge, a group of three small honey-haired women carried the fourth on a branch-bound stretcher. Smaller in size, with a variant physical structure, the three honey-haired women stood close as the injured party member was tended to. Thin-cut wounds streaking across her back were attempted to be treated with layers of paper-bark coverings and antiseptic plant extract. Far outside the expertise of the two field doctors, the cuts required equipment which they did not possess. Breaking into consciousness as the two practitioners began a fibrous suture, the injured being reached out in terror, muttering indistinguishable vocalizations, then laid flat, unresponsive. For the following days the three remaining lost women, a distant relative subspecies of the Citadel, remained in the hospital chamber.

Also deaf, signed communicating with the Citadel’s council leader provided insight into the women’s reason for entering the valley. As a translation mechanism, descriptive pictures drawn from signed gestures formed the shape of a large cat. In addition to identification of the group’s animal attacker, news of two five-fingered beings living four sunsets away was relayed to The Finn. Consulting with The Denverite about the two humans living in a nearby civilization, hope arose that their lost friend Olivia from Florida may still be alive. As the translation description was deciphered to one with a hand-gap and the other with no hand-gap, the two survivors decided to make the journey. With only one of the honey-haired women volunteering to return, agreeing to guide the two to her city, preparations were made for their departure.

Understanding why they must leave, a celebratory exit party walked the travelers to the edge of the valley, watching on as the three climbed a steep barrier cliff and disappeared into the forest above. Feelings of vulnerability rushed back into the minds of the two survivors. Following their honey-haired guide deeper into unexplored land, the pyramid tops vanished as the caldera walls closed. Rounding a corner through a narrowing inlet, broken volcanic stones rose in stacks to a near-perfect circle opening above. Two wall bases of the cathedral had molded together, leaving a parted gap through the middle. Both sides failed to touch as the open crease formed a “Y” shape before returning to open air above. A volcanic dam spread over multiple cubic kilometers, once holding back billions of gallons of magma from spilling into the previously receding caldera. Looking at the perfect “Mho” formed into the wall, The Finn theorized how such a formation could happen naturally. The Denverite climbed a round boulder directly in front of the hole to get a better look. Thinking maybe the Short-dicks had chiseled a way through, The Denverite climbed down from the rock. Halfway up the loose piles of shattered basalt the three looked back to view the vast distance from where they came high above the tree line. The Finn laughed looking down at the round boulder below while lining herself up between the hole and rock. It was clear that the boulder must have been trapped during the magma’s hardening process, eventually rolling out of the fascia to the valley floor sometime long ago.

Using a twisted flower-vine rope tied around the honey-haired woman’s waist, the two helped pull their guide up the steep pile. Walking into the circle’s center, only a small hole cast light from the opposite side. Wondering if their guide had been mistaken, she reassured the couple by gesturing to a dark break on the right side of the wall. Crawling on hands and knees the three entered the cavity, reemerging onto a broken platform overlooking a new caldera ecosystem. With only several hundred meters between adjacent sides, the thin trees and shrub-bushes had changed to a prehistoric canopy. Towering over the valley, the giant trees grew densest along wide crystal clusters formed into the veined ceiling’s path. In the distance, water poured endlessly from the walls; small in perspective scale, waterfalls rained down on each side. Motioning to the awestruck couple, the honey-haired guide moved herself onto a platform step below, pointing to a cliff pathway along the wall.

Stepping forward in a straight line, only a few feet of level stone separated the wall from a sheer drop. Unable to see the ground under long coniferous limbs, sounds of movement echoed below. An eerie mist blew through the air, giving the pathway a shaded grey ambient light. Limbs of trees shook heavily without wind, as though a giant was on the opposite side. The honey-hair guide smiled, making signs toward the movements. Horns far off in the distance stretched out over long decaying intervals. From below the cliff a low rumble built, channeling itself high into the trees as it redirected air outward, answering the horns’ call. Immense air pressure rattled stones as the horn swept through frequencies. Covering their ears as the crescendo rang out across the cathedral’s forest, the couple ducked low to the cliff’s edge. Unaffected by sound, the honey-hair guide continued to walk forward.

Star-shaped pine growths spread out over webbed branches covered the ledge, making the small path disappear in front of the trio. Navigating the path once before, the guide lifted a branch, motioning for the two to crawl underneath. Forward progress came slowly in calculated steps; each member held the branches up in a line while the next member passed through. All three were covered in sap by the time the path widened into a waterlogged plateau. Around the bend roaring water passed over the ledge effortlessly, missing the plateau completely and slamming into tree branches before hitting the ground. Shielded by a wall of water, camp was made in the location where the three honey-haired women had slept before. Four piles of pine needles pushed into the shape of an oval lay undisturbed beneath an overhanging ledge. Water seeping down the cliff wall flowed endlessly over the ledge before passing through eroded grooves. Cupping water in her hands, The Finn began rinsing pine sap from her skin only to be stopped short by the guide. Motioning to trees behind the falls, the small woman gave the charade of smelling then pointing forward through the path. Understanding the reasoning of masking their scent by smelling like the trees, the three spent the night uncomfortably sticky.

Waking up covered in pine needles firmly stuck over their skin and clothes, the group emerged from the falls’ opposite side. Moving down slick geological step formations before reuniting with the ground, the three emerged onto the forest floor. Matted pine needles blanketed tree trunks then spread out through the forest. Stopping at the creek’s edge, gestured instructions given to only relieve themselves in water became clear. Extreme caution exhibited by the guide brought on a second-guessing of The Finn’s decision to leave the city. Speaking openly to The Denverite of her sudden change of perspective, the two deliberated on turning back. Fearing the unknown, The Finn spent a moment breathing deep, eventually reconciling her choice to return. Moving over the ground camouflaged as piles of fallen pine needles, hours passed by pressed close against the cathedral’s sheer wall. All day they traveled side by side, stopping at any sound from inside the trees.

Low rumbling echoed on both ends of the forest without being seen. The further away from the water they moved the smaller the trees grew. Shockwaves coursed through soft ground as branches fell from a nearby coniferous grove. Sounds of pines pulling from their branches directed the group’s attention to a face below the shrunken canopy. Disappearing again behind the mass of waxy needles, a low-frequency humming followed as the head reappeared above the tree. With the body blocked from view the long, powerful neck swung overhead then bowed once more to the tree next to it. Grabbing the couple’s arms, the honey-hair guide motioned them forward. A sound like a diesel generator fluxed near instantly to a hypersonic blast toward the opposite side of the caldera. A long release horn pitched down for almost a minute, bouncing reflective duplicates in every direction. The three moving piles moved to the base of a tree looking into the inner clearing. Greenish-grey mounds lay amongst the pine-needle floor; the largest sauropod, a distant relative of Argentinosaurus, continued to feed, oblivious to onlookers. Sheltered in protection of the herd, sleep came easy for the honey-hair guide. For the young couple low-frequency pulses carried on into darkness as they made love through the night.

Sleeping for what only seemed like minutes, daylight had come again. Shaken awake by the guide, the herd had moved on, leaving the group exposed. Noticeably hotter than the city, air temperatures had spiked. Uncomfortable sweating attracted small insects which stuck to their sap-strewn hair. The Denverite, wandering off for a bowel movement before leaving the sauropod’s field, returned to the honey-hair in a state of panic. Scolding his reckless behavior, the guide explained in frantic gestures mimicking using the bathroom, then walking and smelling. The honey-hair’s deep connection to the ecosystem was not disputed; seeing her reasoning, The Finn and Denverite could only speculate on the severity.

Hoping for the best with camouflage now useless, the party moved much faster than before. The Denverite, in reconciliation, carried the honey-hair on his back while they raced for the exit. Moving through the forest in jagged lines to throw off the scent trail, the large coniferous trees shrank to the size of oaks. Thick spiderwebs cast across great distances now decked the upper canopy. Stopping at a stream to bathe, The Denverite threw wet boxer-briefs into the webs. A spider larger than a backpack sprang out from a webbed den, wrapping up the undergarments as it hovered above.

Reassured by their guide that an end was near, the caldera walls curved inward as they did before. Pointing at a crack down the center wall, The Denverite set down the honey-hair to begin the climb up rock platforms. The Finn moved ahead, climbing up the first step in preparation to pull their guide to the next level. Securing a rope harness around the honey-hair’s waist as they did for the previous climb, a knot was fastened then pulled. With the exit only a hundred meters away, The Denverite bent over to buckle down his pack. Almost like nothing had changed, The Denverite looked up to see a rope being pulled into the vegetation then disappear. In disbelief at the guide’s rapid disappearance, The Denverite remained frozen in hesitation of fight or flight. With a small step forward the frightened calls from inside the vegetation were cut short. The Finn, calling out to her husband of another cat stalking forward from the cliff to his side, urged him to run.

Leaving his bag on the ground, The Denverite jumped the steps’ face, pulling himself up over the edge. Turning to see yellow fur sliding over the steps in the distance, the two broke into a sprint for the split. Larger than a lion, the flattened face never broke its gaze as it sprang from step to step. Pushing The Finn over the final step, The Denverite struggled to reach the raised edge. Removing her backpack from her shoulders, The Finn lowered the straps over the edge, bracing her weight backwards as The Denverite pulled. Placing one hand onto the step’s surface, The Denverite pushed up as The Finn backpedaled. Sliding over the edge sideways, The Denverite felt his wife’s hand pulling him up by his armpits while he forced a leg underneath himself. Closing in only feet away, the enormous cat leaped over a gap between steps with ease. A second cat began jumping up the steps from down below as the two walked backward to a small opening at the bottom of the cracked cut. Measuring the two humans with piercing green eyes, the cats moved in slowly. Prying knowledge of feline behaviors, The Denverite stood his ground, telling The Finn to enter the gap. Still holding onto The Finn’s backpack as she squeezed into the small triangular opening, The Denverite was now on his own. Moving from side to side in an effort to claim their prey from the back, the leopards probed instinctively. Every nerve fired in heightened awareness; time seemed to slow as The Denverite threw the backpack at the cats. As the bag missed the prehistoric leopards, contents from inside spilled out over the rocks. Clanking objects rolled down the steps, causing each cat to pause. A metal tin filled with The Finn’s stone collection rolled down the steps, shaking and rattling as it dropped over the edges. Both gave The Denverite a short look; fighting to resist the noise, the leopards turned to chase the bag. Dropping down backwards, The Denverite pushed himself inside the gap head first, with his belly up. Sliding across the ground till his feet entered the cracked fissure, The Denverite looked up to see green eyes and a paw forcing itself into the tunnel. Pushing until light returned, The Denverite slid out to a crying wife. Believing she was now alone, The Finn threw herself onto her husband, kissing him.

Unable to stop the tears from falling, The Finn started sealing off the gap with a pile of rocks. Sounds of the stone-filled metal tin scraping across the rocks’ surface continued till night. A ceiling hosting the cathedral’s central equatorial crystal could be seen from miles away. Now inside the largest of the cathedral’s calderas, walls lifted to support an arching ceiling. Only able to see a small portion of an expanding horizon, the couple positioned themselves looking out across the chamber in embrace. With only a natural ledge near the gap’s exit for shelter, the two travelers waited for dawn.

Hot like the tropics, glowing insects flew through the humid air. Calls of winged creatures in the distance silenced with the last of the daylight. The chamber turned an orange-red to purple, then flashed green as the glow left the chamber. Colors from above had magnified through the crystal cluster; darkness covered the cathedral for only a few minutes, transitioning to silver waves of light reflecting off the walls. Not knowing exactly how much farther they had to travel, the couple savored the moment together. Eventually the two fell asleep in each other’s arms, waking at first light to a celestial beam emitting from the crystal chandelier’s center. Setting a course for the column of light, The Denverite and The Finn walked forward carrying only what they wore. Three hours passed moving through rolling valleys as flying dinosaurs glided overhead. Afraid of the incredible size of the wingspan, identifiable pterodactyls controlled the upper air. Running from one vegetated patch to another, the couple used any form of cover they could to move forward. Undisturbed by the giant flying creatures in the skies, a group of honey-haired women walked in a group across the rolling plains. Running to the women, the two travelers pointed to the sky in an attempt to get their attention. Noticing the couple running while giving a hair-brush sign of peace, the group of honey-hair met them halfway. The Finn, using common signs taught to her by the Citadel, pointed to the pterodactyls in the sky with a hand gesture signifying danger. Pointing at the creatures a honey-hair understood, making an “X” with her arms then brushing at her hair. Telling The Denverite that the flying dinosaurs were not dangerous, The Finn continued her signs explaining their journey across the wall. Without any further explanations the honey-hair began pulling the two wanderers forward, pointing toward the crystal ceiling’s center.

The outer edge of the mecca spread out over the hillside; further on in the distance a series of pyramids formed a ring around a column of light. For as far as the travelers could see a thriving civilization flourished beneath the crystal’s light. Dwarfing the Citadel city in scale and population, the couple walked through cobblestone streets to the largest of the pyramids. Due to strict rules against men present inside the council’s sacred space, The Finn spoke to civilizational leaders while The Denverite waited outside. Signing a gestured explanation of her mission about finding a five-fingered pair to a council of leaders, The Finn waited as a honey-hair was sent to relay the message. Within an hour two men appeared outside the pyramid chamber, one a Filipino man with long black hair, the other a tall bearded man. Walking over to the two men, The Denverite and The Finn introduced themselves. The Filipino man, partially understanding, said “Ping” in a high-pitch voice as the American answered next as “Busch.” The Finn, responding to the greeting, asked if a blond woman was also present. The American pointed to Ping and himself and said, “Just us.”

Recognizing that these men had once passed through the same route as the couple, stories were exchanged of how and why their paths led to the same place. After touring the city a group of honey-hair women approached the travelers with a final verdict issued from the council. Given the name Sweethearts by Busch for their kind nurturing nature, the couple was welcomed to stay. Gifted a dormant homestead outside the mecca to live, the two remained with the Sweethearts indefinitely.

The Explorer – La-fe Vienna

Running through ferns with open wounds cutting across The Explorer’s back, little time was spent mesmerizing the vast openness that lay before him. Fading in and out of coherence, fern leaves were pulled then pressed against cotton fabric. A sling was tied over a shoulder to the ribs in an effort to stop the bleeding. Glowing light had been replaced with silver ripples moving through crystalline veins as The Explorer collapsed. Looking up to a high stone ceiling while panting heavy breaths, The Explorer closed his eyes.

A sound like a horn broke from within the ferns. Shooting upright with heightened awareness, The Explorer pushed himself up to run. Sharp pain pulsating through damaged tendons halted immediate mobility, leaving The Explorer dragging himself sideways over the ground. Moving himself into a dense patch of ferns, the sounds of crushing foliage grew closer. Tense seconds went by in suspense as upper-level ferns flattened over The Explorer’s body. Piles of volcanic compost lifted under heavy padded feet, pushing The Explorer flat beneath the leaves. A beak slid over The Explorer’s midsection, cutting a bed of fern stalks in the way pruning shears cut stems before disappearing into the middle. Fully uncovered, The Explorer looked up to elephant-sized horns lifting as the creature chewed the ferns, unaware of his presence. Dull droning breaths swelled into a sharp horn then echoed in the distance. With one step forward the animal stepped over The Explorer; a moment later the back leg followed, grazing an ear before landing on uncut hair. The next step skimmed over The Explorer’s face while droppings fell from below the tail. Rolling with the tail’s weight, The Explorer tumbled with the momentum till the final pointed end passed over. Lying still as the animal stopped a short distance away, pain began to leave the sting wounds. Numbness crept through The Explorer’s legs and arms before circulating through his face.

A naturally cured anesthetic excreted through the triceratops’ digestive tract was now covering The Explorer’s body. Feeling nothing of the debilitating injuries, The Explorer pushed himself off the ground, continuing his run through the ferns. A short distance away the ferns gave way to a field of oversized poppies. Broomstick-sized stems capped with bulbs the size of soccer balls swayed to and fro like a thousand metronomes keeping different times. A flattened trail of crushed milky bulbs through the center was used to cross the dense stalks. Moving in the opposite direction of the horned animal, The Explorer returned into ferns without any sense of navigational heading. Feeling the effects of the opioids’ grasp, The Explorer, tripped by vegetation, hit the ground asleep. Waking in darkness without knowing if it had been hours or days later, The Explorer checked his wounds. Scabbing around the affected sites indicated a substantial amount of time had passed in slumber. An unnatural desire to return to the poppy field swept through The Explorer’s mind. Feeling an aching pain returning to his limbs, The Explorer retraced his steps through the center of the smashed poppies. Relocating his trampled hiding spot, The Explorer began placing droppings over his wounds; instant relief followed with pain once again leaving the body. Hearing rhythmic huffing from the other side of the ferns, The Explorer dropped to the ground. Hidden in the ferns only feet away, the triceratops lay incapacitated, sleeping off the poppies. Beginning to feel this area was the area in which he must stay, The Explorer searched for water and shelter.

For three years The Explorer remained hidden in a cave close to the poppy field. Reminiscent of the island of the lotus eaters, various plant-eaters feeding on poppies entered while predators avoided the surrounding area or died feeding on sleeping prey. Day after day The Explorer stayed close to the triceratops as it made single passes through the field. Each pass ended in the animal eating ferns before sleeping on the opposite side. By using poppy bulbs placed in a lined trail, The Explorer found he could guide the ceratopsian to where he needed. A symbiotic coexistence of protection in return for poppies formed over the first year. As a defensive guardian from other opioid-addicted inhabitants, the triceratops grew comfortable in The Explorer’s presence. Cultivating stockpiles of poppy bulbs became a routine practice to keep the large herbivore close to the cave. Within the outer perimeter of the lotus field an array of sleeping grazers frequently lay scattered amongst the ferns.

Becoming familiar with the locals, three stood out more than any others: a giant ground sloth stayed close by the field patrolling through ferns for anything edible it could pick up with three long claws; a gallimimus who only drank the milky white latex sap from broken bulbs; and an oviraptor that picked up bulbs, mistaking the poppy fruit seed capsule for eggs. Although each of the other animals tolerated The Explorer’s presence, it was the triceratops who fully accepted close contact. Within only months The Explorer had begun riding on top of the dinosaur. Comparable to a cow, the triceratops paid little attention to The Explorer while he used the tail to mount the back. Although docile, the horned animal defended its territory from predators on numerous occasions, bringing down larger carnivores in burst charges.

Growing more comfortable inside the lotus field, two years passed by without ever traveling more than a mile outside the safe zone. By feeding on intoxicated animals The Explorer kept fully nourished, and a nearby spring always provided clean drinking water. Finding a comfortable rhythm while supporting an opium addiction was all that was needed to survive. Shortly after the two-year mark The Explorer woke to find that the triceratops had died sometime in the night. Exposed ribs showed clear signs that a predator had entered the surrounding area. From the tree line broken branches redirected The Explorer’s gaze to a long-clawed bird-like dinosaur charging from behind. Running in incoherent shuffles for the cave, the animal had seemed to induce itself while feeding. Stumbling across the fern valley, the black-clawed creature tripped over fern-covered volcanic rock inside the transition zone, hitting its head as it fell, dying instantly. Given time to mourn the loss of his guardian protector, a final resting place was marked in a pile of stones covering the remains. After feeding graciously on the black carnivore till unable to do so, The Explorer moved to higher ground.

For the next year The Explorer became debilitated by opium addiction, moving only when necessary to collect water, food, and poppy bulbs for curing. After finding the sloth and gallimimus partially eaten, the time had come to seek a safer refuge or find another triceratops. After collecting poppy seeds in a pack, The Explorer set off into new terrain for the first time since entering the cathedral. Experiencing only what had wandered into the lotus field, a general consensus had been established of what lay ahead. Creatures of all shapes and sizes had made this land their home for millions of years; knowing to expect the unexpected, The Explorer moved past the field’s outer perimeter. Situated in the lowlands over a mile from the caldera’s right-hand wall, seeing the open space in front of him, The Explorer walked straight deeper into the cathedral. An hour after leaving the lotus sanctuary a rush of wind flew past his ear; the last he remembered was falling forward onto the ground.

Waking up inside what looked like an oversized scallop with beaded drapes, a blue creature’s face was pressed firmly to The Explorer’s waist. Thinking something was eating him hip-first, The Explorer panicked, screaming in fright while pushing himself away. Wearing only a Mickey Mouse shirt and a neon fanny pack buckled around his wrist, the creature smiled with abalone-like teeth then made a bubbling purr sound. With pants nowhere to be found, The Explorer grabbed the only bag he could then ran under the beaded drapery to see blue and rust-red colored creatures everywhere he looked. In a state of shock The Explorer ran through the village of fornicating mollusks, running in a different direction every time a creature appeared. Bubbling sounds called out as the blue creature began following him. Enormous rust-red entities waved their limbs as he passed, pointing back towards the blue follower. Confused and afraid, The Explorer ran without restraint through the village and into the trees. Running across the cathedral’s center for four days, The Explorer had reached the base of the opposite wall. Thrown into the bipolar chaos the cathedral hid within its walls, The Explorer moved out of a sparse volcanic valley into a vine-twisted swamp marsh. Days of scavenging insects from overturned rocks along the barrier wall left The Explorer weakened and starving. As a way to avoid larger creatures hidden inside tangle-covered ponds, The Explorer traveled along the lower base of the north-eastern wall.

Moving along rock slabs overlooking an endless landscape, The Explorer progressed forward slowly. Looking down on changing terrain below allowed The Explorer to become a spectator to the daily battles played out in front of him. Carnivorous hunters unaware of The Explorer hid for hours waiting for prey to move into their trap zones. Seeing cathedral life from the high wall’s base gave a chance for The Explorer to compartmentalize different species’ behaviors in the event he would encounter them along the way. Reaching a flattening lowland plain, vegetation blocking the wall’s base had become sparse. Left exposed on bare rock, The Explorer could only pretend to be part of the wall as creatures passed by. Waking up to vocalizations with human characteristics, The Explorer looked across the valley for signs of intelligent life. Unable to see the source of the sound, The Explorer moved on a short distance forward, looking at the wall’s steps as he walked. Below, a small round man naked from the waist down could be seen attempting to climb a stone step along the base. Shouting while motioning to come closer, The Explorer noticed the man was extremely larger in width compared to his height. Thinking the man may have been the person who left the trail of rope inside the entrance cave, The Explorer moved down the wall onto the lower step platform, motioning with his hands to hurry up the wall. Getting closer to the edge of the last step, a smell coming from below made The Explorer gag. Extremely overweight for his size, the primitive man wore what looked like a small dinosaur hide stretched from shoulder to shoulder. An arm stuck out of the hide’s still-attached mouth, while the other came out of the tail. Saying nothing to The Explorer, the man stood staring up at him, mimicking the hand motions to come closer. After asking multiple questions in an attempt to communicate, the primitive man continued the hand gestures without saying a word. Repulsed at what he was seeing, The Explorer backed away from the edge. It became clear the primitive man had been trying to climb up the rock wall’s first step by the amount of scratches on his stomach. Seeing The Explorer move away from the edge, the strange man shuffled to the base, attempting to lift himself off the ground, then fell backwards. Looking back from a further point, The Explorer watched the man struggling to roll himself over onto his stomach then stop, reverting back to the “come closer” as eye contact was made. From the tree line more short men could be seen running towards the wall.

While climbing to higher ground, a group of humanoid men had gathered around the man lying on the ground. Double the size of the others, the large man, unable to get up, laid flat on his back making hand motions to “come closer” every time The Explorer stopped to watch. Unable to avoid noticing that each primitive man was uncovered from the waist down, the recurring trait of micro-sized corpus spongiosum seemed to be commonplace among the tribe. As the group assimilated around the alpha male, one took notice of The Explorer moving along an upper ridge. From down below the group began to follow, leaving the alpha where he fell. Watching the group making the same “come closer” motion with their hands as they walked on the valley floor below, The Explorer raced across the wall’s upper platforms. Forced to move higher after the primitive men found a step low enough to climb, The Explorer became trapped on a shelf at the wall’s upper base.

The higher the group of primitive men climbed the more followers congregated from out of the tree line. Joining in on the flow of curiosity, hundreds of wanderers stood below the upper wall, motioning up at The Explorer to come down from the ledge. Only a vertical step away from The Explorer, every anatomical detail could be identified in its entirety. Reminiscent of a chicken sausage The Explorer ate during the holidays with his family, a name was given to the primitive humans: “La-fe Vienna” or “Vienna” for short. Growing tired of luring The Explorer down with polite hand gestures, groups of integrated followers began climbing the vertical shaft to the high shelf on which he sat. Wedged between a narrowing chimney shaft and a small stance ledge, The Explorer held on to a small rooted tree growing from cracks in the wall above. Far more mobile on flat ground than technical climbs, Vienna climbed the chalkstone ramp, bypassing common situational holds and footing techniques. Although naturally proficient at climbing steep-grade stones with ease, the first Vienna to reach the final chalkstone stood below at the bridging section, motioning with both hands to “come closer.” As The Explorer pulled his leg away from the edge, the male Vienna pushed one foot into the shaft’s wall, jumping up in an effort to pull him down. With surprising height the Vienna’s fingertips were seen over the stance-ledge edge before disappearing. A moment passed in silence before a hit rang out far below. Peeking over the edge, The Explorer could see clearly that the Vienna had fallen to his death. A mad dash of Vienna rushed up the chalkstone in a disheveled line to take the fallen man’s place. Primal strength with unhesitating gymnast-like climbing abilities raced up wedged stones towards the roost, then stopped as the group noticed they were being watched. The Vienna furthest up the shaft stood frozen with one arm reaching out with an open hand and bringing it towards his body; before the gesture could be repeated the rest of the group followed suit. Motioning to “come closer” as the avalanche of primitive men began to fall backwards, The Explorer watched on as nearly forty Vienna let go completely, continuing the hand motion before rolling over the wall’s upper-base steps.

Crashing down below, La-fe Vienna toppled over hard stone, uttering painful logorrhea only to be replaced by a new group. Agile and well-balanced, Vienna men jumped from rock to rock, pulling themselves over perilous free-solo lache combinations that would impress the most experienced climbers. Without eye contact the Vienna appeared to be adept in their abilities to utilize geometric precision in combination with physical attributes. Losing count of how many of the tribesmen had fallen, The Explorer waited till large groups filled the chalkstone ramp then poked his head over the edge, making the “come closer” hand gesture. Immediate visual reaction cues transformed the La-fe Vienna from ultra-agile free-solo mountaineers to casual mimics. Hours passed by peeking over the steep ledge as lines of new Vienna filed up the cliffside wall base. Hundreds of meters off the ground, The Explorer looked out over the valley to see a steady stream emerging from the trees. Unwilling to surrender in the midst of the carnage, each Vienna took a turn at capturing The Explorer before sliding over the edge in a spin. Like lemmings following a faithfully ignorant leader, the Vienna continued to fall.

After nearly wiping out the cathedral’s left-side male Vienna population over a two-day period, the stream of enthusiastic climbers had dwindled to a majority of sick and elderly who struggled to make it to the summit. Both male and female Vienna appeared, taking the same path as the ones who came before them. Beginning to lose his mind from sleep deprivation and dehydration, The Explorer cursed his fate atop his small perch overlooking the valley. On the third day the line had dissolved to a few wanderers who had been left behind. Reaching his breaking point, The Explorer sat holding on to roots, fighting to keep his eyes open. Without making any effort to move The Explorer watched an older Vienna female walk the trail from the bottom to the top, rushing the chalkstone ramp, jumping in a tic-tac up the chimney shaft before disappearing over the edge. Taking advantage of the opportunity to make an exit free from able-bodied Vienna, The Explorer pressed himself into the chimney shaft and slid down to the chalkstone ramp. Running past slow-moving elderly Vienna, The Explorer could hardly bring himself to look at the aftermath as he passed by the lower base platform and entered into the trees.

Throwing himself into a stream, The Explorer breathed in gulps of fresh water. Stopping only long enough to fill a thermos before heading deeper into the forest, The Explorer hugged the wall’s edge until finding an overhanging ledge to crawl under. With only a few inches of clearance, The Explorer slid under the ledge, pulling rocks and debris close to camouflage the small space. In seconds sleep had overtaken his eyes, freeing The Explorer from the primal reality in which he lay.

Dreams of home dissipated to sounds of elderly Vienna passing through the trees. Darkness had filled the cathedral, leaving the remaining pursuers lost inside the trees. Hearing the sliding steps drag past, The Explorer remained silent, pressed deep under hanging rock. Large branches breaking hinted that something more voracious had entered the area. Gawping elder-speak cried out in the night until a natural ambiance returned to the valley. Small stones pressed hard into the ground, sliding with each step as the beast stopped in front of the overhang’s entrance. Huffing the air with its nostrils, the creature stood fixated on the wall above The Explorer. Only able to see silver reflections off two talons outside the crawlspace, The Explorer lay motionless, holding his breath. A distant call from more wandering Vienna broke the tension, sending the creature running in the direction it came. At daybreak The Explorer crawled out from the overhang, moving away from the trees to the safety of the wall’s base.

YouTuber #2 – Amazon

A monumental discovery turned nightmare scenario unfolded into running from animals once thought to be extinct. YouTuber #2, an athlete in his youth, sprinted across a shallow stream to end ferns covering the opposite bank. Looking back periodically to see if his friends were near, YouTuber #2 heard the sounds of light footsteps from behind. As an experienced hockey player #2 had engaged in his fair share of brawls, earning him the name “The Enforcer” in college. Half his size and weight, the raptors closed in as a pair, splitting his focus as one flanked from behind. The moment he turned to face the circling creature, the raptor holding the center point made its move. Squaring up and spinning as the animal jumped for his back, YouTuber #2 countered with a right-hand blow above the eye. Connecting with full momentum behind his fist, the raptor dropped from the air at an awkward angle, landing hard on the ground, presumably unconscious. Turning on instinct, YouTuber #2 took one box-step to his left, sensing that the second raptor had already rushed forward. With the same right hook as the first, YouTuber #2 connected eyes with the three-toed reptile as his fist hit the side of its head. In less than two seconds the two raptors lay motionless on the ground. With fists clenched in a bounce, YouTuber #2 scanned the fern walls for more movement then continued to run. Minutes went by sprinting through open paths between patches of green fern colonies without choosing a singular direction.

Deeper now inside the rolling vegetational growth, the ground began to slide, making each step feel like running through sand. Stopping to catch his breath, YouTuber #2 could not hold back tears from falling as the thought of his group becoming overpowered by the violent creatures flashed into his mind. Putting both hands above his head, #2 squatted above the ground to relieve the strain inside his legs. Quiet other than ferns rubbing in cadence with the breeze, YouTuber #2 listened intently for any sign of life. A minute passed focusing in the direction from which he came, hidden close to the ground as the adrenaline settled and YouTuber #2’s breath slowed. Volcanic stone crushing in a slow one-two walking pattern grew closer, then stopped on the opposite side of the patch. A cough, synonymous with a longtime cigarette smoker, broke the air. Recognizing the sound of a wheezy hack as the friend of the friend whom YouTuber #2 had met at the beginning of the trip, he broke cover and stood up. Without a second thought, #2 called out, “You made it!” while standing up. A low reptilian hiss replied, bursting through the center of the ferns before YouTuber #2 had fully elongated his legs. Without breaking upward momentum YouTuber #2 thrust his arm into an uppercut, hitting the dinosaur below its jaw where the neck met its head. Sputtered hissing squeezed out from the creature as it fell to its stomach. Sounding similar to a human with laryngitis trying to yell, the raptor went hoarse then stopped moving entirely. Hearing more ferns breaking from his side, #2, ready for a fight, ran forward to meet his next opponent. A fan-shaped row of ferns folded over revealing a three-horned creature charging forward. Breaking in a parallel direction away from the giant horned creature, YouTuber #2 only saw a rust-colored streak trample over two raptors hidden behind a row of ferns as he turned to run.

Miles went by without pausing to rest as YouTuber #2 descended to lower ground. Ominous flowers with giant round bulbs sporadically appeared on the ground then densified into a patch on his right. Holding a course inside the ferns, #2 passed through a graveyard along the outer ring of the flower field. Knowing this hallowed ground was nothing he had ever known to be true, YouTuber #2 veered left, charting a course directly down the cathedral’s center-most plain. A red line crept up the monumental walls before transforming the upper edge purple as the light began to fade. Replaced with silver hues rippling through the crystal chandelier ceiling, the air began to cool. Stepping into a patch of ferns, YouTuber #2 wrapped himself with leaves in an effort to retain warmth. The unsettling darkness had pressed pause within the cathedral’s hall, silencing the exotic calls while YouTuber #2 fought to stay awake. Feeling the warmth of armfuls of fronds covering his body, #2 closed his eyes, letting go only for a second.

Dawn had broken to distant chirps echoing through the valley, crossing great distances as the sound magnified and bounced against hard stone. Waking up in a mat surrounded in fern fronds, YouTuber #2 ate a protein bar, debating on returning to the entrance cave or moving forward to find shelter. Pushing out of the fern colony’s center, YouTuber #2 looked up to the high wall at a point far off in the distance. Light hitting the upper peak’s stone caught #2’s eye as a visible landmark any survivor may follow. Without anything more than a hunch, YouTuber #2 began walking at a slight angle forward toward the southern wall.

The high peak once visible in the open space above ferns had vanished, blocked out by slender tree canopies; only fragments of the wall behind could be seen. No matter how long YouTuber #2 walked through the thicket of trees the point never seemed to get any closer. Looking up from a different perspective, the distinctive feature high above the cathedral floor blended into the hard stone backdrop. Disoriented by dramatic scale, changes in elevation, and redirected pathways, YouTuber #2 continued to walk in the direction he faced at dawn. Just as the day before, a red line rose up the wall turning the upper quadrant purple as darkness descended through the cathedral floor. Without dense patches of ferns to hide inside, YouTuber #2 continued walking into the night. By using a covered LED flashlight held low to the ground #2 moved through thorned branches and leaf litter in an effort to find a secure place to rest. Damp mist drifted through the trees, bringing with it a chill to the air. Jumping at every outstretched branch to skim across his back, YouTuber #2 felt a fear he had never known before. Without the light of day, sounds within the cathedral became stifled as the dew point spread over every surface. With one step through broken limbs covered in bramble vine, YouTuber #2 broke free from the twisted forest onto a rocky shoal. Sediment and rock tapered to running water a short distance away, providing an opportunity to refill YouTuber #2’s water supply. Removing a hosed bladder from his backpack, YouTuber #2 crouched next to the river, letting water enter inside the bag as he filled a half-gallon canteen attached by a clip. Without realizing the direction his mini-LED flashlight was facing, YouTuber #2 screwed on the caps then bent low to the river’s edge, drinking in the white light. Upon lifting his head, a series of glowing yellow orbs reflected from the tree line on the opposite side of the river. Picking up the flashlight, YouTuber #2 pointed it at the four glowing circles across the bank, scanning the light back and forth. With each pass the orbs dimmed then reappeared only as the light hit directly on the location from where they hung. Freezing for a moment with a beam of light focused on the yellow balls’ tree line, two orbs disappeared like a shutter then reappeared. Seeing an unmistakable blink from something much larger than himself, YouTuber #2 began to shake. Preparing to run, YouTuber #2 stood as a third pair of eyes appeared inside the trees. Slowly #2 pressed the power button on the flashlight, hoping to slip back inside the brambles without conflict. The light began to strobe erratically as the mode changed, causing YouTuber #2 to panic. Pressing the power button once more sent the area to a blinding pitch black as #2’s eyes failed to adjust. In fear YouTuber #2 pressed power one more time, casting light on three grizzly bird-like figures. All black with giant clawed fingers, the creatures burst from the trees, sprinting upright toward #2 with heavy footsteps. Making a split-second decision, YouTuber #2 threw the flashlight toward the creatures and laid flat under the moving water. Sounds of feet scraping over earth were replaced with turning bubbles, rocks clicking, and deep dunks as the creatures entered the river. Only a few feet deep, YouTuber #2 held on to sunken river rocks below the surface, pulling himself with the current along the bottom. With one breath YouTuber #2 traveled downstream, emerging in deep water to see a beam of light streaking up toward the ceiling then ducked under again.

YouTuber #2 floated with the current, feeling a sense of shock at the amount of biodiversity the cavern walls held. Only a few days before he was diving into a beautiful reef lagoon; now creatures the size of trucks had forced him into a freshwater river below the ocean. Looking around at the sheer magnitude of space between the walls and ceiling, the realization that any form of rescue was next to impossible came to mind. Already living up to his name as The Enforcer, YouTuber #2 knew then he would have to fight to survive. Reflecting back on a TV show about surviving alone in inhospitable lands, YouTuber #2 laid sideways, paddling forward below water to conserve energy. Rocky shorelines passed by swiftly in the dark; afraid to leave the center of the river, YouTuber #2 continued down the river till light rippled through the ceiling’s crystalline veins. Now trapped in a world insensitive to modern concerns of peace and morality, YouTuber #2 had entered the cathedral’s natural cycle.

Swimming toward a clearing on his right-hand side, rocks began to turn beneath #2’s feet. Cold and waterlogged from floating through the night, YouTuber #2 pushed himself onto a flat stone below the clearing’s edge. A dizzy feeling swept over as he stood to remove his shirt; lifting the cloth over his head, YouTuber #2 felt something hit his back. Wet like a slug, a second slap followed as the wet shirt pulled free. Turning to try to see if something was behind him, YouTuber #2 felt a swaying weight slide from side to side. Reaching an arm backwards around his back, #2 pulled on two writhing extensions. Wiggling in his hand, the black creatures dangled as pain shot through YouTuber #2’s shoulder blades. Thinking that leeches had attached themselves while in the river, one of the creatures fell to the ground. On closer examination, the animal had a flat mouth with one hook-shaped tooth protruding below the nose point. A foot smaller than the one still attached, YouTuber #2 spun in circles trying to get a firm grasp on the slippery eel. Pulling down only brought on more pain than before as the hook fastened deeper. Using the fallen eel as a reference, YouTuber #2 swung his head forward while standing, causing the creature to flip over his shoulder. Feeling the hook drive upward, YouTuber #2 walked with his head between his legs to pick up a branch. By sliding the wooden stick upward beneath the mouth, the creature’s grasp lodged free. Sliding over YouTuber #2’s shoulder the animal curled into a pile between his legs. Blood began to flow with relatively no pain while YouTuber #2 checked himself for more. Clear other than a small eel attached to YouTuber #2’s backpack, the creatures were pushed into a pile at the edge of the rock step.

Grunting and moaning rang out from the clearing behind. Unaware of what lay on the other side of the rock-steps embankment, YouTuber #2 poked his head over the upper edge. Human-like chatter erupted in a chaotic form across the valley. Once again the thought that his friends may be on the opposite side crossed YouTuber #2’s mind as he scanned over the valley. A group of stocky men, naked from the waist down, ran across the flat clearing to what looked like a gathering in the middle.

Unsure of exactly what was happening, YouTuber #2 pulled his phone from his backpack, pointing the top over the edge while zooming in on the group with the camera. The strange-looking men appeared to be surrounding a female as she lay on the ground moaning. Seconds passed by recording as more men filed into the frame. With a primitive stereotypical caveman-like demeanor, the short men resembled a claymation cartoon character named “Bob” YouTuber #2 had watched while he was younger.

Continuing to watch from afar, YouTuber #2 withheld his urge to make contact. Unlike any human he had ever seen, the group of primitive men appeared to be enacting a courtship display to the lone female. One man stood facing a group of challengers, pushing his chest out as opponents stepped forward from the crowd. With a stomp the alpha beat his chest with one hand then reached down towards the challenger’s penis in an attempt to pull it free from the body. A barbaric mating ritual that seemed to defy logic was playing out in front of YouTuber #2 as the camera recorded. Pinching a clump of coarse hair between his fingers, the alpha male held his hand high showing the others as his opponent conceded. The ritual continued as another challenger stepped in front of the alpha, hitting his chest then reaching down to pull at his crotch before he had time to react. Falling to the ground, the once victorious alpha male was replaced by another.

Horrified at what he was witnessing, YouTuber #2 backed slowly down into the water. Pushing himself into the deepening center as the current began to carry him away. With visible light now filling into the cathedral, YouTuber #2 swam underwater, resurfacing only to breathe. Passing by an outer bank of the clearing, YouTuber #2 surfaced to see two Bobs walking along the embankment’s edge above. Spotted by the two primitive men, YouTuber #2 tried to make contact by waving and saying “Hey.” Without any sign of understanding one of the men ran and jumped into the water with alarming height and distance, landing head first in rocky shallows before going unconscious. Unsure about providing help to the unconscious Bob now being pulled toward the river’s center, YouTuber #2 looked back to see the second primitive man in mid-air. Splashing down with both feet, the primitive Bob tumbled face first into the shallow water then rushed toward YouTuber #2 as he drifted closer. Even in water the man’s smell was unbearable as he forced an incredibly strong hand around YouTuber #2’s backpack. Fighting being forced underwater, YouTuber #2 contained the primitive Bob’s wrist as the man bit down on the shoulder strap. Removing the bag from his back, YouTuber #2 forced his weight over the Bob, sending him below the waterline with the back-strap still in his mouth. From under the water YouTuber #2 felt the Bob reposition its grasp onto his leg, biting down. A scream of pain muted by the water bubbled out from YouTuber #2 below the surface; unable to touch the river’s bottom, the two sank. Hard stones slid under YouTuber #2’s shoes as he bent his legs and pressed into the riverbed. With a shot upward the surface broke over #2’s face before returning to liquid mass. Bouncing over the riverbed’s bottom the two tumbled then separated. Kicking for the surface YouTuber #2 gasped into air, turning in anticipation of a second advance. The primitive surfaced face down a short distance downstream. Still holding onto the backpack in his hand, YouTuber #2 swam to the Bob, flipping him over as he pried it from his hands. It was clear that the Bob was something of a subspecies of Homo sapiens. Almost identical in physical features anatomically, YouTuber #2 stared at the lifeless Bob before pushing him into the current. Humbled by evolution, his fight for survival, God, and the Cathedral, YouTuber #2 drifted downstream with tears in his eyes.

The world YouTuber #2 had grown to know was now dead. Nothing seemed to make sense on an intelligent plane, leaving only primal instinct left out on display. Something had broken inside YouTuber #2’s mind as he floated behind the two otherworldly men. Aside from remorse, YouTuber #2 knew that if it wasn’t them it would be him. Winding around a protruding bend in the wall’s base, backed by a thicket of trees on the opposite side, a second clearing appeared on the right-hand side. A horn from the field’s center refocused YouTuber #2’s eyes upward. Growing up in a time of pop-culture icons and cinema references, YouTuber #2 drifted into shallow water feeling as though he had stepped into the Jurassic era. Massive legs stepped closer to the river, sending ripples through the ground then into YouTuber #2’s body. Sitting stationary in knee-deep water, YouTuber #2 could only admire the size of the animal that stood before him. Identifying the creature immediately as a sauropod, a long neck swung over the edge of the river then slowly touched the river’s surface. Amidst the brutality, it was the most beautiful sight YouTuber #2 had ever seen in his life. Rumbling oscillations coming from inside the animal’s midsection wound down into near silence before gradually speeding up to high-frequency clicking. YouTuber #2 sat upstream in fear of disturbing the peace with a sudden movement. Whirlpools formed alongside the creature’s mouth as water drew in with immense force. Minutes passed by before the animal’s head lifted from the surface. The rhythmic clicking began to sweep into high-pass atmospherics until the sound was almost inaudible. Just when YouTuber #2 thought the sound had stopped the animal’s rapid clicking swept across the dynamic spectrum, finishing with a misting horn from its nostrils. Spray spread across the air, falling down as it refracted into rainbows around the magnificent creature. Thinking of a binder his sister once owned, YouTuber #2 smiled as water rained down on the river’s surface and the mist began to hit his skin. Without any sign of aggression the sauropod turned, walking away with slow strides.

Lying flat on the water YouTuber #2 used rocks to pull himself forward through the shallows. Downstream depth returned to the river, allowing for an easy float away from the shoreline. Hung up in the shallows, two primitive men lay idle, bouncing in the current. Midway across the clearing more sauropods gathered in a herd, visible only by heads and necks towering over a high embankment. Making an effort to keep a low profile, YouTuber #2 remained still, letting the current move his body forward. Rumbling oscillations grew louder as another sauropod lifted its head over the hill. Unseen from the river’s low vantage point, the creature extended its neck fully upward then proceeded downward toward the shallows. Turning to watch the animal, YouTuber #2 ducked his mouth beneath the surface so as not to be seen. A long neck swung over the water’s surface creating a curve as the head positioned itself over one of the primitive Bobs. YouTuber #2 had always been taught that sauropods were strictly herbivores; seeing the animal lift the primitive man with its mouth brought on an unsettling feeling about the animal’s true nature. With one swing back to a neutral spine, the sauropod opened its mouth as the apex concluded, heaving the primitive man across the river into the trees on the other side. Again the creature bowed its head, swinging over the water like a crane before placing the second primitive man inside its mouth. YouTuber #2 watched as the tiny man flew hundreds of feet through the air then disappeared over the horizon. Fearing he would be next, YouTuber #2 kicked with his legs while keeping only his nose above the waterline.

Caught in the moment floating backwards with the current, focusing on the scene unfolding in front of him, YouTuber #2 turned to see that the herd was now moving toward the river’s edge. The embankment began to slope downward, providing an unobstructed visual of the clearing behind. A field of giants emerged into view as large numbers of sauropods and ceratopsians grazed in the open area. Three-horned rust-colored creatures the size of elephants lined the river’s edge, gathering in front of a flattening sedimentary beach head. Glimmering specks caught the eye from every angle as light passed over the beach. Raw diamonds polished over millions of years covered the ground. With only his eyes above the waterline, YouTuber #2 pushed himself toward the opposite bank. After seeing the damage a charging triceratops could inflict firsthand, great efforts were made to pass by undiscovered. A well-traveled path of footprints and waste could be seen covering the beach, sloping upward into the clearing above. The flat beach gradually shifted upward, transitioning to a steep green grassy swale extending the clearing’s remaining perimeter.

Around the bend ceratopsians drank without notice of YouTuber #2’s presence. Still cautious of being noticed, a picturesque panoramic moment too incredible not to capture on camera had presented itself. Seizing the opportunity at hand, YouTuber #2 felt for his phone inside his pocket and began recording. Sticking only the top of the protective case above the surface, YouTuber #2 drifted past hundreds of dinosaurs, documenting natural behaviors in a high-definition digital format.

Closing in for a close-up, YouTuber #2 moved two of his thumbs in opposite directions across the screen as a juvenile triceratops drank from the river. Focusing on the phone’s camera, weight pressed down on YouTuber #2’s bag as he placed it under his armpit. Sinking below the surface, air bubbles trapped inside the bag rose to the surface, drawing attention from the herd. A call went out bringing about a sudden change to defensive posturing among the adult ceratopsians. The smaller triceratops retreated up the bank and was replaced by larger adults standing on the swale’s slope calling out YouTuber #2. A stampede of quadrupeds and bipedal herbivores followed above as ceratopsians circled around the young. A sound like rolling thunder erupted inside the valley, leaving YouTuber #2 kicking with the current. Reaching the furthest corner of the clearing, the sloping banks tapered once more to a shallow river crossing with signs of heavy usage. Along the opposite river bank a game-trail passageway led deep into the center of the cathedral. Holding to the river YouTuber #2 was carried around a rocky bend marking the end of the first caldera.

Unlike the vibrant clearing teeming with abundant life, around the bend rocks piled high before transitioning to sheer cliff faces. On the opposite side trees and brambles blocked any view of what lay beyond. Floating through a land covered in shadow, a familiar eerie chill swept through YouTuber #2. Sounds of the herd had almost completely vanished aside from oscillating trumpets sent out by the sauropods. Traveling downstream listening only to water babble over rocks, YouTuber #2 reached for his phone to power down. Upon grabbing the phone YouTuber #2 looked at the menu, thinking about how far humanity had come. Comforted by the memory of technology in a prehistoric world, YouTuber #2 found a song by-Skrillexx and began playing it with the speaker held close to his ear. An EDM fan growing up, YouTuber #2 drifted down the river listening to his favorite dance-music playlist.

Reminded of a waterpark in Virginia with a fast-moving lazy river, YouTuber #2 continued on with his phone pressed against his ear. Water around him began to swirl, gaining speed as he looked up the high walls in amazement. Rounding a slight bend in the river mist collected between each bank looking over a vast landscape below. Now swimming as fast as he could for the closest bank, YouTuber #2 felt the drop out from beneath him. Sucked over the falls YouTuber #2 fell through the air, picking up speed then plunged into a shallow pool. With only enough water depth to break his fall YouTuber #2 hit loose sediment at the bottom of the pool. Jumping above the surface a roaring torrent crashed down around from above. Letting go of his phone and bag YouTuber #2 was now left with only the pants he was wearing, a wallet, and a multi-tool in his pocket.

Going over the 40-ft waterfall had sent a shock through YouTuber #2’s spine; feeling as though something had broken he floated downstream checking himself over for injuries. Without looking ahead he was now falling again. Splashing down through the surface water YouTuber #2 rose, looking up to a moss-covered waterfall surrounded by cliffs. This time the pool was much deeper and the fall much smaller. Cut into a slot canyon the green walls opened above providing a small glimpse of the cathedral’s towering walls. Narrowly missing a pile of partially submerged rocks, YouTuber #2 treaded water beneath the cascade falling from above. Stroking with the current to a loose-sediment beach the ground returned beneath YouTuber #2’s feet. Polished volcanic minerals slid into the water as YouTuber #2 dug into the stones struggling to pull himself from the water. Lying flat on his stomach YouTuber #2 put two arms out in front of himself scooping into the pebbles then forced himself onto the beach. Much like sea glass turned over by the tide an array of green, blue, clear-white, and red stones sparkled over the shore. Covering his arms, legs, and torso, precious gemstones gleamed in the ceiling’s light. With no value in a survival situation a small handful was placed into YouTuber #2’s pocket before continuing down the riverbank on foot.

Limping over millions of rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and diamonds YouTuber #2 spotted cotton fabric below the clear river’s surface. Picking his shirt from the shallow bank, YouTuber #2 spent the rest of the day looking for his backpack. Throughout millennia fluvial erosion carved deep gashes through the canyons; now covered in moss and algae, gemstones from long ago hung suspended across the walls. Catching the last of the light as the red line rose up the cathedral’s walls, the canyon began to reflect in the way a kaleidoscope turns. Unwilling to venture any further YouTuber #2 covered himself in warm gemstones like a blanket as he waited for the light to return.

As darkness fell upon the cathedral hoots from strange creatures echoed through the chasm. A sleepless night passed by repositioning precious minerals to cover exposed portions of skin. Unsure of what time it was exactly, YouTuber #2 dozed off as the light returned to the walls above. Waking midday itching, YouTuber #2 stood up and jumped into the river. Small bumps covered his skin causing him to scratch uncontrollably. Although there was no sign of a culprit YouTuber #2 knew the ground must have been crawling with microorganisms. Swimming over to a nearby wall YouTuber #2 used his hands to slide over periphyton sheets of algae covering the rocks. Feeling a noticeable difference YouTuber #2 began covering himself in the algae until his body was green.

Wandering down the bank the canyon walls narrowed, leaving only a small bedrock ledge along the water’s edge. Walking through a solid stone slab carved out by sedimentary debris, YouTuber #2 stood looking out over a lowland valley below. With only a passage by water to choose YouTuber #2 jumped into the river and began sliding down an algae-covered chute. At the bottom of the bedrock slide a small oxbow pond had formed, catching YouTuber #2 easily as he fell the remaining distance. Hurled forward with immense speed YouTuber #2 flew through the air, landing somewhere near the middle of the pond. Smiling from the natural luge into water, YouTuber #2 swam to the shoreline. Moving with the current toward a naturally formed tabletop of bedrock, black fabric could be seen floating just below the surface nearby. A stroke of luck in desperate times fell upon YouTuber #2 as he was reunited with his backpack.

Feeling a huge boost in morale YouTuber #2 perched on the stone table checking inventory while eating a protein bar. Now only missing his cellular phone, the feeling of unprepared nakedness began to subside. Stopping to look back at the chasm luge, YouTuber #2 had a moment in silence enjoying the monumental view. Turning to find suitable shelter for the night YouTuber #2 looked across the pond at what he thought was a fallen tree. Jumping across a small gap to the next stone tabletop to get a closer look, a heavy splash entered the water. Tidal wake rippled across the surface as YouTuber #2 watched a log shape glide into the center. Unlike any crocodile YouTuber #2 had ever seen the reptile’s scutes looked identical to twisted notches of broken tree branches. Twisting around in the center the animal’s nose directed itself toward the tabletop stones then dipped underwater leaving only bubbles where it once was. Jumping frantically toward solid ground YouTuber #2 cleared the last water-filled gap before swimming a short distance to shore. Without looking back at the pond YouTuber #2 ran toward the perimeter wall’s base. The red line had returned as YouTuber #2 climbed up fallen stones.

All night YouTuber #2 sat high above the cathedral floor peering into the darkness. Rustling on the valley floor below gave a suspicion that YouTuber #2 was followed by the giant tree-like crocodile. First light peaked through the crystal chandelier veins, slowly rippling streams of light across the cathedral ceiling. Within an hour the light began to magnify towards the walls as it made its way closer to the floor. Four crocodiles spread out over an acre sat motionless, holding form in camouflage. Without knowing what they looked like YouTuber #2 would have mistaken them for fallen logs. The tan hide covered in jagged cylindrical scute plates mimicked a fallen tree perfectly. Without the presence of thick matching trees the crocodiles became easy to spot. With nothing to do but wait YouTuber #2 watched over the valley, acclimating to the surroundings while planning his escape. High above on the upper wall light hit a protruding section of stone before moving downward. Recognizing distinct features within the shape as his chosen landmark guide, YouTuber #2 thought back to only a few days before. There was no getting comfortable inside the cathedral, only a pressing need to adapt. With so many changes in relatively short distances, YouTuber #2 began to wonder what else lay beyond. Feeling a mix of fear and curiosity knowing that any second may be his last YouTuber #2 sat on a pile of rocks looking over the gems and diamonds collected from the canyon above. Rich beyond his wildest dreams with no way out, YouTuber #2 held each individual stone up to the light examining them thoroughly to pass the time.

With the light’s warmth, sounds of wildlife returned to the halls. High above the valley winged creatures glided through the air en route to uncharted space somewhere further on. Around midday a slow-moving mammal wandered into open space below. Like everything else inside the cathedral the animal looked like an ancient relic from prehistoric times. Long claws reached over thin branches, pulling the limbs closer to its mouth as it chewed on leaves. Unaware of the present danger the ground sloth moved from patch to patch feeding on leaves. Watching the situation unfold YouTuber #2 looked on in horror as the sloth walked closer to one of the crocodiles. As an attempt to save the sloth YouTuber #2 picked up a rock and threw it onto the valley below. The sloth paid no attention to the noise and continued forward. Now only a meter away from the croc, YouTuber #2 broke cover by whistling at the sloth. Reaching out a hooked claw the sloth prodded at the crocodile’s hide. In a split second the crocodile snapped back locking its jaws around the ground sloth. Tearing up YouTuber #2 could only watch from above as the sloth cried out below. With the croc’s jaws firmly around a leg, the sloth fell sideways, looking up at YouTuber #2 then pointed one of its claws at him. With terrifying speed the other crocs rushed in, snapping down spinning into death-rolls until they had their fill. The grisly sight served as a reminder of how fragile life could be inside the cathedral valley.

The sounds of thrashing carried on into the night. Doing his best to try to sleep YouTuber #2 laid flat across the boulders covering his ears. By morning the crocodiles had gone leaving only fragments of the kill near a small patch of trees.

Running at the base of the rocks YouTuber #2 made a break in the direction the ground sloth had come. Billowing from an unseen croc called out from behind. Smaller than the others, the crocodile nearly indistinguishable from a log rushed through a thick patch of trees after it crossed open ground. Entangled inside the wiry tree limbs the crocodile snapped at branches as YouTuber #2 sprinted away. Without stopping to look back the ground passed below YouTuber #2’s feet in flashes. Winding through sporadic patches of vegetation, YouTuber #2 ran until he could no longer breathe. The sunlit valley began to darken under the shadow of the monument peak. Tripping over a barrier rock YouTuber #2 hit the ground rolling. Brushing leaves and sediment from his clothing, a glitter of gold caught YouTuber #2’s eye. Walking back to the spot where he fell, a round metallic dome poked through the ground. Assuming he was no longer in danger, YouTuber #2 dug a finger around the outer ring in the ground. Volcanic pebbles and organic compost began to pile into small mounds around the shiny nugget. Prying under a protruding surface, YouTuber #2 stood with one leg on each side pulling the gold free from the ground. Smashing all known recorded records, the gold nugget was nearly as big as YouTuber #2 was tall. Weighing close to 200 lbs YouTuber #2 could only drag it along as he continued forward. Reluctant to part ways with something so priceless in his mind, YouTuber #2 heaved the gold over two miles before he could pull it no more. A red-line sunset began to stream over the walls marking the end of another day. The allure of wealth gave way to basic instinct; marking the nugget’s location with a pile of stones at the wall’s base YouTuber #2 walked away in search of shelter. Feeling the safest high above the ground, YouTuber #2 climbed up the base of the wall until he found boulders flat enough to lay across.

Rationing protein bars was not enough to cure YouTuber #2’s hunger after pulling extensive weight. Tearing open an MRE he had saved, YouTuber #2 replenished essential calories lost then fell asleep before finishing the meal. Waking up at dawn to the sound of violent gargling, YouTuber #2 looked down onto the valley floor for the source of the commotion. The midsize tree-croc had followed him and was now positioned in front of YouTuber #2’s golden nugget. The once natural ore-like qualities of the gold’s surface had turned into punctures and gashes. Even from 50 yards away crocodile teeth could be seen embedded along the gold’s surface. Blood covered the crocodile’s face as it clamped down on the gold pillar. Fighting to gain control, the crocodile lifted the gold off the ground, tossing one end up to reposition its jaws as the pillar fell back onto the ground. Seeing only one front tooth near the snout, YouTuber #2 could only guess at how long this had been going on. With the crocodile preoccupied with the gold, YouTuber #2 crept along the wall’s base until both were out of sight.

The cathedral’s north-western wall arched inward beyond the monument peak. Vast space began to open around the bend’s base. A natural widening formation caused by a once-active volcanic chamber, YouTuber #2 held close to the wall as he rounded into caldera #3. Cutting across the middle ground between the walls left little chance of escaping a predator in the event of an ambush. With the many unexpected carnivorous species lurking within the vegetation, YouTuber #2 felt safest with his back against the wall. Taking unnecessary risk would only hinder chances of survival inside a foreign land. Thinking back to the show of a man instructing viewers on how to survive in the wild, YouTuber #2 began searching for temporary shelter. Climbing the wall behind the sunlit peak, small game trails could be seen below. Like roads weaving through the sporadic patches of vegetation, all trails led back to a singular pathway. Making a note of the anomaly, YouTuber #2 climbed down to the floor, moving in the direction of the single-track trail. For nearly a mile the well-traveled path hugged the wall then ended at an overhanging alcove. Suspecting the small nook once belonged to the ground sloth, YouTuber #2 entered the space armed with a rock.

Matted hair covering the ground matched the texture and color of the sloth seen in the valley. With confirmation of the cave’s inhabitant, YouTuber #2 theorized that the sloth lived a solitary life traveling out for food then returning back each night to sleep. Although itchy and full of small organisms, YouTuber #2 claimed the alcove as his own. For the rest of the day rocks were piled in front of the entrance to make a small wall separating the inside from the unknown. With light fading inside the cathedral canyon, YouTuber #2 settled in for the night. By using sloth hair for bedding, YouTuber #2 laid with his backpack under his head listening to sounds leave with the light.

A week passed by without incident hiding inside the sloth’s lair; now out of food rations YouTuber #2 began eating small insects he found under rocks. During the day a small fire was built inside the cave to roast any found food then extinguished to avoid unwanted attention. Four minutes away a spring stream provided fresh water to drink and bathe. Noticing a fair amount of drag marks in sediment layers, frequent trips to the spring were avoided until absolutely necessary. At the end of the first week YouTuber #2 contemplated fortifying the small alcove into a homestead. Walking back from a trip to the spring, a badly mauled reptile lay dead along an adjacent pathway. As large as a Komodo dragon, the animal had a head shaped like a pit bull with a sail running down the spine. Crushed and covered in saliva, the animal looked like it had been partially swallowed then spit out. Fearing the tree-croc had followed him around the bend, YouTuber #2 ran back to camp. Smoke rising from the alcove provided an early warning to proceed with caution. Having extinguished the fire in a cleared pit before leaving for the spring, only a disturbance inside the cave could have rekindled the flame. The smell of burnt hair wafted across the valley as plumes of black smoke lifted into the air. Climbing up a nearby rock pile, YouTuber #2 scaled over fallen boulders till a clear vantage point of the alcove entrance could be seen. As expected the crocodile had broken through the barrier wall leaving only a tail sticking out below the overhang. Carrying all personal belongings at all times, YouTuber #2 was prepared to leave on a moment’s notice. Watching from a safe distance as the crocodile backed out of the alcove shaking burning tufts of hair, YouTuber #2 made his exit.

All day YouTuber #2 ran, ducking from patch to patch to gain distance away from the crocodile. In the distance a sound like a trumpet echoed through the air. Unsure if the primitive Bobs played musical instruments, YouTuber #2 headed in the direction it came. Walking out from behind a thicket of trees into a clearing, YouTuber #2 looked up at an enormous wooden wall spanning across two pitched sections of the cathedral’s base. Something only an intelligent being could construct, the heavily fortified wall loomed over the valley. A surreal thought of human presence trapped the same way he was crossed YouTuber #2’s mind. Thinking that just behind this wall some kind of lively jazz party with other human survivors was happening deep below Earth’s crust was the best YouTuber #2 could hope for. Sure he had heard a trumpet, YouTuber #2 weighed the odds of walking up to check for a sign of human life. From the far corner of the wall two small figures could be seen exiting out of an opening. Even from a distance of 200 meters the two figures were unmistakably female. One with blond hair and one dark raven black, the two women began walking away from YouTuber #2. Shouting and waving his arms YouTuber #2 called out to the two females. From a distance the two women stopped, turning to look in YouTuber #2’s direction then started sprinting toward him. Jogging with a smile to meet the two women halfway, YouTuber #2 couldn’t believe his luck. As the women got closer, something about them seemed other than human. The looks on their faces were anything but smiles; screaming in war-cry the two women ran at full speed covering ground with astounding speed. Stopping in place, YouTuber #2 watched the two women grow in size with each step closer. Seeing that they were both over twice as tall as he was and holding weapons, YouTuber #2 started to run in the opposite direction. In two steps the women were upon him, hitting YouTuber #2 with branches bound with stone. Pleading for mercy YouTuber #2 reached for his wallet holding up pictures for the women to see. Looking at the pictures YouTuber #2 held the two giant women stopped the assault. For a moment the women stood looking down at his wallet as YouTuber #2 lay on the ground. Examining the women, the irregularity didn’t end at the size; their hands both had only an index finger and thumb. Standing around 9 feet tall the women wore fur boots, a pelt sarong, and a hide chest covering sitting over the shoulders like a small crop-top leaving their breasts exposed. Noticing the women were uncovered, YouTuber #2 began staring at what would be double-Z in bra size chests left bare and lactating. With the giant women still looking at the pictures, YouTuber #2 looked into their eyes. Both had emerald green eyes and distinctive human facial features. Noticing his obvious gaze, the women looked at YouTuber #2 locking eyes as he glanced from one to the other. Silence followed as the three continued to stare wondering what exactly was happening. A sound like a trumpet came from one of the women, then echoed across the valley. YouTuber #2 beginning to have a psychological breakdown under extreme environmental stress began to become aroused, having an orgasm in his pants. Intelligent beings descending from an ancient subspecies of hominids, the women began to realize that YouTuber #2 was different. Empathy could be seen in transitional expressions between the women, who seemed unsure of what exactly YouTuber #2 was. Taking YouTuber #2’s possessions, one woman secured his wrists and ankles with a leathery band, while the other woman stood guard. Dragging YouTuber #2 by his feet toward the wall, no attempt to escape was made in the hope of a peaceful resolution.
 

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A day in cathedral history-

Relative to modern wonders lost inside the 1000-mile under-ocean caldera chain, the parties we know were not the first human inhabitants. Ancient travelers navigating the seas long ago found their way inside the cathedral, inevitably becoming trapped, cut off from the world they once knew. Men and women spread out through various points in time stepped into a world of expansion, leaving behind only relics of knowledge passed down throughout centuries. Interjections of culture, innovation and genetics that still live on today, deep below the earth. These are the stories of the ones who came before.

The Spaniard-

Setting sail from the Mediterranean port of Barcelona, Spain, a Catalonian artist by trade, recruited into the Spanish military, left his home never to return again. Once a humble merchant selling charcoal landscape portraits in the streets, The Spaniard had been drafted into the Spanish navy by chance. Living in the hills outside the city, The Spaniard grew accustomed to sketching the Mediterranean coastline from a distance. Every Sunday The Spaniard’s family traveled down from the hills to the Basilica of Santa Maria del Mar to attend Mass and barter supplies. While displaying an alley-wall gallery collection of his latest artwork, The Spaniard was approached by a group of clergy members, ship captains, and accompanying merchants. The captain, thoroughly impressed with The Spaniard’s attention to detail, offered to bring him to Seville for an apprenticeship as a cosmographer.

Although relatively poor, The Spaniard had been taught mathematics and compass building by his father from an early age. Living in a coastal village, The Spaniard knew everything about nautical trade, but had only ever been on a boat one time before. The offer was accepted without hesitation, followed by instructions to meet at the port in three days’ time. The captain held a sketched portrait of the Barrio Gótico then handed an 8-escudo coin to The Spaniard. Trying to explain that the painting only cost 1-Reales, the captain walked away holding the picture.

Staying quiet, The Spaniard walked alongside a cart mule holding the reins while his family pushed from behind. Walking up the hill till outside the city quarters, the Spaniard’s mother asked if he had sold any of his sketches. Afraid to talk about his agreement with the captain, the Spaniard said, “tres,” showing his mother the piece of 8. Shocked and in suspicion of how her son had obtained a coin of such high value, The Spaniard’s mother questioned if it was stolen. Now under a mile from the village, The Spaniard explained to his mother and father his agreement with the captain. Tearing up while pleading for him to reconsider, The Spaniard’s mother begged for him to stay. Tears turned to a stern scolding as The Spaniard’s father explained the difficulties his absence would bring upon the family. With only one sister and an older brother who had passed away several years before, The Spaniard began to question his decision to leave. Unlike his parents, The Spaniard’s sister smiled, questioning him about what the nobles had said. With tensions high, The Spaniard agreed that he would refuse the captain’s offer and stay.

Life above a coastal city was rural and dry; for as long as The Spaniard could remember, ships entering the harbor always fascinated him. Living life in a merchant family was hard; many weekends ended with only enough money to buy food. Sensing an opportunity like this wouldn’t ever present itself in this way, The Spaniard looked at his artwork as he stored them inside the barn. Two days passed by without mention of the captain’s offer. Conversations with The Spaniard’s parents remained limited to household duties and preparation for the coming Mass. At the age of twenty-two, The Spaniard was an essential part of the family’s livelihood. Leaving would mean handing off the brunt of the workload to his father and younger sister. Now aging, The Spaniard’s mother could no longer make the weekly climb on foot. As the only member strong enough to manage the mule, The Spaniard’s role was firmly established. Thinking about everything leading up to this moment in time, The Spaniard laid in his hammock as the rest of the family slept.

Rolling a stack of his best coastal sketches into a hollowed wooden tube, then placing the piece of 8 on top of the work table along with a handwritten letter, The Spaniard crept out across the lawn. Grabbing a bag he had hidden behind the barn, The Spaniard stepped out onto the dirt path leading to the city. Two hundred feet away from home a small voice yelled out from behind. Running as fast as she could, The Spaniard’s sister raced toward him in the dark. The sister hit him with a hug, tears running down her face as she placed her head into his shoulder. Upset that he was leaving without saying goodbye, a moment passed in silence before The Spaniard apologized. Understanding that this was his only chance to become something more than a merchant, his sister said goodbye one last time then returned to the house.

Dawn had broken over the ocean as The Spaniard entered the upper quarter of the city. Walking down the hill feeling the anticipation of adventure, The Spaniard made his way through the Barrio Gótico, stopping at the Basilica of Santa Maria del Mar for a prayer. After a short walk to the Port de Barcelona, The Spaniard waited at the docks for the captain to arrive. As promised the captain arrived finally dressed, accompanied by a priest. Looking at the galleon ships docked inside the harbor, The Spaniard asked about which ship they would be traveling on. Explaining that his duties were needed within the city, the captain led The Spaniard to a small brigantine at the edge of the port. The captain introduced The Spaniard to the priest, then handed him a sealed letter of recommendation. The letter was to be given to the Piloto Mayor at the Casa de Contratación.

The captain left the two at the docks, telling The Spaniard good luck and he would meet with him again in Seville. Without another word the priest and The Spaniard boarded the cargo brigantine. Manned with a skeleton crew of merchant supply traders, the ship was anything but luxurious. The priest spoke very little and when he did it was in commands. Still thinking about his family high up in the hills, The Spaniard made his way to a hull lined with empty hammocks. Livestock, wood barrels and hemp sacks filled up the majority of the space, creating narrow pathways below deck. Each crew member looked less than qualified to man a ship, but when it came time to leave the men knew exactly what to do.

Without any formal nautical training The Spaniard was assigned to work in the galley by the first mate. Doing what he was told, the day began peeling onions near a hot stove below deck. The boat began to sway as they pushed away from the port; completely out of his element, The Spaniard ran above deck and began to heave over the edge. With eyes watering and greasy sweat rolling off his brow, The Spaniard looked up to see the city of Barcelona growing smaller by the second. Strong winds caught the mast in the breeze, expanding the canvas tight; The Spaniard was now on his own looking toward an open sea.

Referred to as “home-de-tierra” by the others, The Spaniard spent the day seasick hanging over the edge. Given permission to rejoin when the sickness wore off by the cook, The Spaniard retreated to his hammock. Opening his bag to eat fresh olives picked from his family’s tree, The Spaniard felt a wooden box above the fruit. Inside the box a fixed compass bobbed from side to side pointing north and a letter folded into the lid. Holding a note from his mother and father, The Spaniard could not help but weep. Reading silently alone in the hull, the letter explained that his father understood why he chose to leave and that he and his mother were proud of him. The note concluded in his mother’s handwriting that she had packed his favorite bread below the olives. Unwrapping a linen filled with soft bread, The Spaniard ate quietly thinking of home.

The sickness had seemed to disappear after the bread. Closure had been solidified inside The Spaniard’s heart; with it came a rejuvenating wind inside his mind. At dawn The Spaniard returned to the galley taking orders from the cook as they came. Ten days passed by with calm seas and strong wind; on the eleventh day the boat turned for the Guadalquivir River. Two days later the ship docked in a busy naval port teeming with life. In the dark of night The Spaniard said goodbye to the crew, stepping onto a dock with the priest. A wavering equilibrium failed to adjust in the dark as The Spaniard walked to his bags then tripped over a cleat, stumbling off the pier into the water. Soaking wet, The Spaniard walked behind the priest through narrow alleys and riverwalks lined with taverns. Pretty women sitting in front of gambling rooms smiled at him as the two walked past; The Spaniard smiling back was reprimanded by the priest who refused to give a look. Sounds of music carried over the water and the smell of wine wafted through the air. Having never seen anywhere as active as this city at night, The Spaniard felt a pulling temptation to join the crowd. Rounding into a dark alleyway, sounds of foreign tongues and vibrant festivities slowly disappeared behind.

In the moonlight exquisite architecture cast shadows over the plaza. Stopping in front of an enormous cathedral, the priest thanked The Spaniard for walking with him at night. After pointing toward the Alcázar complex the priest blessed The Spaniard with a prayer. Speaking the words, “Benedicat te omnipotens Deus, Pater, et Filius, et Spiritus Sanctus. Dominus sit in itinere tuo et custodiat te in terra et mari.,” the priest made the sign of the cross then handed The Spaniard a small bag filled with coins. No more than three hundred feet away The Spaniard walked to a guarded archway with a lion placed high above. A guard spoke out firmly asking the Spaniard to state his business. Pulling a letter from his bag saying, “Casa de Contratación,” The Spaniard waited as he was approached by an armed guard. Taking the letter in his hands the guard examined the seal reading the instructions written on the front. Telling the Spaniard to stay where he was, the guard left, returning several minutes later with a heavy-set man dressed in fine clothing.

The Casa de Contratación had closed for business, but light could be seen in the windows above. A short walk through a courtyard led to a flight of stairs; unsure of the next step and still wet from his fall, The Spaniard remained quiet. In a room lit with lanterns and a fireplace, the man introduced himself as “Piloto Mayor,” then offered for The Spaniard to sit across a polished desk. Inside the room stacks of maps rolled into tubes piled high, neatly organized by location. Looking around, navigational instruments had been left in mid-use on top of partially finished parchment and shelves with books covered the walls. The chief pilot asked to see The Spaniard’s sketches without any other formal mannerisms. Graciously agreeing, The Spaniard twisted off the top of his homemade wooden tube, unrolling the rag-paper sketches out on top of the desk. The chief pilot sat quietly inspecting each piece thoroughly until setting down the final portrait. “Magnífic!” was all the chief pilot said as he picked up the stack, placing them on a shelf in the corner of the room. The work began immediately as the pilot placed a vellum map of the Americas on top of the desk followed by a stack of hemp rag paper. Told to copy the quadrícula onto each paper, the chief pilot left the room leaving the Spaniard alone. Although The Spaniard was familiar with specified charting instruments, he was unsure of standardized usage. Contemplating the most effective course of action, The Spaniard spaced the compass rose on the vellum parchment with brass dividers then measured the distance to the edge on a straight ruler. When measuring the length of the hemp rag paper The Spaniard realized that the scale would have to be miniaturized to fit inside the border. Taking note of the size differentiation, The Spaniard used the straightedge to reduce the dividers’ measurements based on mathematical principles. Using only the two instruments The Spaniard measured the distance from the edge then pressed a small indentation into each paper with the point of the divider. Finishing the charcoal gridlines in only a few hours The Spaniard began to work on the map itself. Not sure if he could finish all 40 maps by morning, The Spaniard worked through the night filling in matching quadrants. At dawn the chief pilot returned to The Spaniard halfway through the second map with one fully finished map laid flat on a board next to his desk. Surprised to see The Spaniard, the chief pilot asked what he was still doing inside the building. Sleep-deprived with fingers covered in charcoal dust, The Spaniard motioned to the completed map for inspection. The chief pilot gave a cross look at The Spaniard, repeating the words, “la quadrícula,” in a stern voice. Lifting his gold spectacles as he leaned over the map, the piloto mayor nodded quietly then gave a small laugh. Removing the gold glasses from his face the chief pilot looked at the Spaniard and said, “Magnífic!”

Explaining to The Spaniard that he was only required to draw the grid-lines and return to his quarters, the chief pilot asked if he had fulfilled his command. The Spaniard motioned toward the stack of papers fully prepped into grid templates complete with a compass rose. Returning the spectacles to his brow the chief pilot shuffled through the stack, then said, “Meravellós!” With a look of satisfaction, the chief pilot asked The Spaniard what inn he was staying at. The Spaniard told the chief of his journey to the city by boat and how he had arrived only an hour before arriving at the Puerta del León. A giant laugh filled the room as the chief pilot realized The Spaniard’s position. Standing up, the pilot told The Spaniard that he would be staying with him then ushered him to follow. Without another word The Spaniard picked up his belongings and walked down the stairs into a luxurious royal courtyard. Five minutes from the Royal Alcázar the chief pilot gestured to a two-story casa patio in the heart of the city. Inside the courtyard a lush garden of citrus and vines covered the inner sanctuary. Walking straight through to the courtyard garden the two men rounded a corner then walked up a flight of stairs. The second wing on the property opened to a balcony overlooking an alley and a glass-frame door. Inside the room a row of beds with wooden trunks at the foot lined the wall. Walking to the furthest bed from the door, the piloto mayor told the Spaniard that that would be his. With a brief set of house rules and meal times the chief pilot told The Spaniard to return to the office after vespers to continue his work. The chief pilot handed The Spaniard a bag of coins for proper attire then walked out of the room.

Never in his life had the Spaniard felt such wealth; lying down on the bed was more comfortable than anything he had ever slept on before. Only weeks before he was pulling a mule from the hills of Barcelona, now feeling a renewed confidence The Spaniard slept in the shadow of a castle. It was a new beginning for a young man entering an apprenticeship under the king’s council.

The gamble had paid off; living inside the city gave The Spaniard many opportunities to redefine aspirations once thought impossible. Rising through the ranks under the chief pilot’s guidance The Spaniard worked night after night scaling copied grids for his master. One of three apprentices, The Spaniard formed a tight bond with his fellow students. Each morning ended with a trip to visit a young woman who had seen The Spaniard the night he had arrived. An attendant at one of the few remaining hammams, a love began to form between the two common-born socialites. The daughter of a wealthy Moriscos bath-house owner, the two shared contrasting rags-to-riches stories after entering the city.

Time passed by as The Spaniard refined his skillset into ink-and-quill final-copy maps to be sent out across the Spanish empire. A year had passed, attending dinners and gatherings amongst nobility. Recommended by the chief pilot, a demand for The Spaniard’s maps grew. Captains of ships swore by the scaled-down versions claiming the old maps were obsolete. Tucked away deep inside the heart of Seville, The Spaniard worked diligently growing stronger in his abilities by the day.

With the trade winds, talks of new expeditions circled throughout the hierarchy. Specifically an expedition organized in Peru for a second exploratory venture into the Solomon Islands. Leading the fleet, a commander named Álvaro de Mendaña had secured royal support to colonize the islands. The Spaniard listened in on a conversation taking place inside the courtyard below, recognizing the name as the captain who had given his recommendation. A month later The Spaniard’s maestro approached him with a proposition. In his later stages of life, unfit for a lengthy sea voyage, the chief pilot offered to defer his position to The Spaniard under recommendation. Jumping in to fill a debt of gratitude, The Spaniard willingly agreed to the terms. A voyage spanning the course of over 13,000 miles and more than two years at sea was now in motion. The Spaniard was given a letter of appointment and told to make a will and testament. In a week’s time a ship was set to leave for Nombre de Dios, Panama, bringing with it colonists and supplies. Once across Panama, a conjoining ship would travel the remaining leg to Peru. As it stood The Spaniard was to meet with Commander Mendaña’s outfit on arrival. A rush of emotions hit The Spaniard as his final testament was written on a formal document. The next chapter of his life was soon to begin; leaving the manor to tell his lover the news The Spaniard could hardly walk without shaking. Thoughts of perilous dangers in open water weighed heavily on the mind; stopping at the Sevilla cathedral The Spaniard confessed his sins then continued on his way.

A week passed collecting field instruments on a checklist issued by the Piloto Mayor. As an official representing the Casa de Contratación, no expenses were spared in the pursuit of proper documentation. Leaving the house with another apprentice selected to join the expedition, The Spaniard felt less afraid having a trusted companion by his side. The two men rode a carriage to the port, boarding the biggest ship he had ever seen. Expecting the hulls to be filled with a surplus of supplies and cargo, the ship was relatively empty. With no more than 20 people on board the empty ship the anchor lifted and they began to float downstream. On route to the city of Sanlúcar, estates and farmland passed by under the morning sun. Rejuvenated with a fresh understanding of the land he had lived in for the past year, The Spaniard sat at the bow sketching out an outline of the horizon. Seeing the landscape for the first time in daylight was as though he had almost forgotten the feeling of the countryside. Bathed in luxury learning the city’s way, small farmhouses on the outskirts surrounding the city brought back memories of home.

Soon the farms disappeared leaving only untouched salt marshes teeming with birds. Occasionally boats passed by tacking in diagonal lines across the water, waving at the empty nao. Rounding a final bend in the river the Atlantic Ocean faced the bow while the sun began to set. A whitewashed city emerged on the ship’s port side; by dusk of the second day the ship glided safely through the harbor. A fleet of galleons and naos rested on top of the water covered in shadow by the setting sun. On land industrial warehouses lined the shore dropping into darkness as light began to fade. Ordered to leave while the ship was loaded the Spaniard and his fellow companion climbed down the nao’s sidewall onto a waiting chalupa grande. Small orange dots began to appear on shore as the city entered night. Carrying only a small traveler’s bag and coins The Spaniard helped row the boat into the private naval wharves. The boat bypassed a section of wooden piers, moving forward until sand slid underneath the hull. Jumping down to a sandy beach, The Spaniard and his mate walked toward the city. Following a busy waterfront road packed with mules the two men asked a nearby arriero where the nearest inn was. Pointing to a bright orange cluster a mile away the mule driver assured the two multiple inns could be found. With that advice the two walked past a group of soldiers guarding the perimeter and into the city.

Unlike Seville, God’s good word had not been accounted for within the streets. Walking through a maze of drunken sailors, salesmen and prostitutes, the two young apprentices felt like they had entered into a new world. Taverns were filled to capacity singing hymns of the sea then spilling out onto the streets. Men lay along the alleyway corners unsure if they were alive or dead. Passing conversations of harrowing tales and talk of desire The Spaniard couldn’t help wanting to see more. Thinking that the docks in Seville were ruckus was on a whole other level entirely. Dusty in some places and muddy in others the apprentices stopped in the middle of the road looking at the spectacle in front of them. Thinking it would be best to speak to a local for advice the two entered into a tavern.

Inside the smoke-filled room gambling tables spread across a stone floor filled with men and women rolling dice. Carrying nautical instruments and dressed in fine attire fit for a cosmographer at sea the two apprentices stood out immediately. A group of women sitting against the wall began pointing, laughing amongst themselves from the opposite side of the room. A young woman with dark black hair stood up then walked over to the two men standing in the doorway. She wore a loose white chemise and brightly colored skirt tied from behind showing her legs. Asking if they were lost or looking for a drink, the young woman motioned the two to follow. Telling her they were looking for an inn the woman informed the two that there were vacant rooms upstairs. Sitting down at a table while the woman grabbed two jarros, The Spaniard spoke to his friend about staying. A few seconds later ceramic clay cups were placed on the table filled then with wine. Arrangements were made to stay one month’s time, as The Spaniard and his colleague handed over 10 reales each. Although not completely respectable the inn gave the men a secure place to sleep outside the main drag. Being that the tavern was in close proximity to the docks checking in on the ship was only a short walk away.

Jarro after jarro emptied then was refilled by the young Portuguese woman as she passed by. The Spaniard and his colleague sat amongst a group of sailors who had arrived from the Caribbean only a day earlier. Talking of their adventures through the Americas, the sailors told stories of violent storms and savage tribesmen. The Spaniard told the sailors that they were about to embark to Nombre de Dios in one month’s time then to Peru. Coincidentally the sailors were also going to the same place at the same time. With spirits high and wine flowing endlessly, comradery grew as the group realized they were all traveling on the same boat. Mercenary sailors for hire coached the two apprentices on the way of the water, answering questions as they appeared in context. Songs of the sea began to be sung until the two apprentices could drink no more. Stumbling across the tavern floor the apprentices followed the young Portuguese woman through an inner courtyard then up a set of stairs. The Spaniard wished his colleague well before entering a room of his own. A few minutes went by spinning in the candlelight before a knock came on the door. Calling out as if it was his colleague The Spaniard opened the door to the Portuguese woman from the tavern. Without saying a word she walked into the room and closed the door.

By morning she was gone; waking up to the taste of wine and a splitting headache The Spaniard was completely naked. Rolling over a flower from the orange tree outside rested on the pillow. Picking himself up and getting dressed The Spaniard walked to his colleague’s room below. Before The Spaniard could knock on the door one of the other tavern workers emerged from the room fixing her hair. Shouting his presence into the room The Spaniard’s colleague greeted him as he buttoned up his doublet. Swearing off drinking for good the two men sat down for breakfast over a jarro of wine. For the next month the young Portuguese woman returned every night after the tavern had died down. Only a year younger than The Spaniard, the two had many different things in common, most notably her time living in Barcelona only a few miles away from his home.

Days passed with more passengers filling vacant apartments inside the inn; four separate groups all taking the same ship to Panama soon became closely acquainted. Just as The Spaniard felt most situated the time had come to return to the ship, which brought tears to the young woman’s eye. Promising to one day return, The Spaniard left her with a self-portrait he had framed. Taking the walk back to the military wharf as a group, the Spaniard and companions waited in a line to verify documentation. Nervous in a way that caused his palms to sweat The Spaniard entered a longboat then glided into the harbor.

Once onboard the ship the crew and captain had organized a routine meeting before departure. Now weighing heavy in the water the once-empty ship had transformed into a crowded space filled with cargo. Standing around the wheelhouse groups of sailors, colonists and mercenaries listened intently to their new captain as he assigned each person a secondary role. Walking around with his first mate, the captain gave fair warning of the dangers the vessel may encounter. With one final offer to leave the longboats were ordered away as the anchor lifted.

Much like The Spaniard’s experience leaving Barcelona, within an hour the edge was lined with heaving passengers. Although still inexperienced in open water the Spaniard felt no sense of unease as the ship drifted into the ocean. Sketching Sanlúcar de Barrameda from the stern, The Spaniard watched the city growing smaller in the distance. A crew member from behind shouted, “¡A toda vela!” and the sails began to open. With a pop wind pressed into the canvas and the boat picked up speed. On each lift land thinned into a single line on top of the horizon, dissipating altogether by noon.

Assigned to rigging The Spaniard complained to the first mate after a rope tightened around his hand during a change in direction. Explaining that he was traveling under the Piloto Mayor’s behalf as a cosmographer for an expedition to the Solomon Islands, the first mate reassigned The Spaniard to swabbing and captain’s assistant. The two apprentices showed the captain maps and sketches of the Americas. Thoroughly impressed with their knowledge of charts and mathematics the captain brought the two scholars into his quarters to discuss roles in navigation.

Taking turns cataloging headings by use of nautical instruments at night, The Spaniard looked to the sky wondering what the future held.

Seeing nothing for weeks but water had a way of making one feel small. The ship’s lower decks were filled to the brim with colonist families who etched out sections of hammocks like canopies to keep their loved ones close. Bed rolls covered the floors in all available space leaving only a small wooden line between to walk. Mothers with children worked tirelessly to keep them from crying and priests gathered passengers nightly for prayers. Every day became more humid than the last adding to the already stifling lower quarters. The atmosphere had changed to subtropical conditions bringing with it heavy rain.

Coming from a semi-arid coastal village The Spaniard had never seen the ocean turn. Waves lifted above the vessel sending the ship into an abyss as they passed underneath. Something one would assume was the work of the devil himself, black spirals cut down from the sky flashing into view as lightning branched overhead. Water poured down from the deck, seeping into the hull below. The captain screamed orders into the wind turning a tension wheel in effort to face the swells. Groups of passengers placed items onto hammocks, holding on while the rolling waves of water swept over the floor. The Spaniard held his form remaining on deck pulling the whip-staff alongside four other men. Looking death in the eyes, The Spaniard saw the wall light up in front of him as it began to break. The bow lifted bringing men toppling across the deck, pointing the ship towards the heavens above. For an entire second the ship bounced on the crest, then slammed downward sending The Spaniard flying forward. Caught in the middle, the boat began to turn with a second wall approaching. Not hearing, seeing or thinking, a moment of clarity washed over The Spaniard. Heavy water poured onto the deck taking with it the men onboard. The crew were floating in every direction, displaced by white bubbles spreading out across the length of the ship. Grabbing a passing rope connected to the mast, The Spaniard felt his legs turning in weightlessness. With only the sails above water, The Spaniard looked to the edge as his colleague drifted further away. As if God had dipped his hands below the ocean’s surface, the boat began to rise. Letting the rope slide through his fingers The Spaniard washed to the port-side railing, grabbing the apprentice by the shirt on his back, pulling him closer. The vessel breached upward with the two apprentices hanging over the opposite side of the bulwark. The captain ran to their aid pulling the two cosmographers onboard the deck. Gaining control over the nao, the swelling waves lessened. Watching the grey flashing sky move over the sea at dawn, The Spaniard stood holding the whip-staff while his fellow apprentice hovered over a compass.

A priest stood holding a candle speaking prayers in Latin for the lives the sea had claimed. Colonists and crew gathered on deck with heads bowed in tribute to God for sparing their souls. Giving a prayer for a safe passage to heaven, The Spaniard spoke the names of the dead, leaving a piece of bread for each. Grievance concluded with a hymn as the priest cast rations into the water making the sign of the cross before returning below deck. Washed down with wine, the songs continued throughout the night.

Overhead sunlight cut deep onto sweat-soaked skin leaving behind lines of softer days. The air hung heavy in an oppressive heat that now spread over the sea. A once-warm wind had turned into small gusts pushing high clouds above. The Spaniard moved the rudder endlessly in place to prevent drifting off course. A stillness had fallen onto the sea masking its true strength. At night the two cosmographers looked to the stars drawing lines over gridded parchment, debating whether the course could be maintained. The Spaniard gathered able-bodied men and colonial seamstresses to fasten linens along openings throughout the rigging. Climbing high above the deck holding hemp-paper boxes attached to twine, The Spaniard tied spools to each yard. Kites began to fly across the mast higher than the sails could catch. With a slow pull the ship turned its back to the breeze, returning the wind to the sails. Charting feverishly under a string of stitched sheets and shirts, the apprentices spoke in letters and numbers their captain altering courses in accordance to the drift. With a final push from the sky, kite-strings pulled tight as misty blue lines emerged on the horizon.

Mountains peaked from the ocean turning green as the sky cleared to dawn. “¡Tierra!” was shouted over the ship deck then down into the hull. Excitement spread from below erupting into men, women and children rushing toward the bow. Towering over water, the Lesser Antilles grew higher by the hour. Racing faster than ever before, the nao pushed forward to birds flying overhead. Almost as though the trials and tribulations had been a small part of their journey, the ship crossed over turquoise waters within shallow reefs. Passengers had questioned the authenticity of the two map makers, but now with pats on both sides of their shoulders the apprentices had secured their place within their peers.

Dominica was a lush paradise foreign to the colonists who left behind shelter fields in their native lands. People ran strings from the ship’s railing pulling out exotic fish they never knew existed. If there was ever anything more beautiful than the island in the middle of the sea, The Spaniard had not yet laid eyes upon it. A voice of reason broke the musing gaze, silencing the chatter of the colonists. Over a turning crowd, the captain spoke strongly of tribesmen who knew little of God or the power of the empire. Looking back at the rocky cliffs jutting up into tropical forests, The Spaniard scanned the land with a deeper sense of apprehension.

Ordered to stay on board the ship, groups of seasoned crewmen lowered empty barrels into a single chalupa tethered alongside the nao. Given direction to stand watch on top of the mast while sketching out the coastline The Spaniard nodded to his captain turning to fetch his supplies. On deck the mood had changed dramatically into worried eyes searching for signs of indigenous tribes. When The Spaniard returned the chalupa had launched, moving forward to a rocky shoreline beyond.

Attached to the nao, a smaller batel was left floating behind in the event of emergency rescue crews. Preloaded with swords and trade bags, the boat appeared prepared for any possible outcome. Hours passed by sketching detailed outlines of perspective vantage points from inside the cofa. Adding final shades to a portrait of the island’s interior mountaintop, The Spaniard noticed a group of men and women gathered around the chalupa on shore. Some seemed to be wearing nothing more than a few small coverings decorated in bright colors while others wore nothing at all. Alongside Spanish crew members began moving heavy barrels into the chalupa, handing over indistinguishable items to the brightest tribesmen.

Groups of colonists looked on from the deck trying to make sense of what was going on. More tribe members gathered on the beach, moving out to the cliffs to look at the ship anchored inside the bay. Women fully uncovered walked along unseen pathways through the trees, conveying in a small point eye level with the mast. Shocked colonists murmuring words of concern could be heard from deck as The Spaniard waved a signal flag in the direction of the shore. Looking downward the small reserve boat was now being rowed toward shore. The Spaniard could see the priest sitting in the boat while two of his followers rowed on each side. Within only a few minutes the boat had landed near the chalupa.

The priest emerged as a small figure onto the beach, lifting his arms over his head he held a book in one hand a cross in the other. The captain could be seen standing in front of the three men pointing back at the ship, as the two men pulled swords from the batel. Unclothed tribe members moved in front of the brightly colored man as the priest walked past the captain shouting distant phrases. Men began pushing the chalupa into the water as the captain forcefully pulled at the priest. In the moment, two of the colonists pointed swords at the captain who turned to the tribe with hands raised to ease the conflict. With one more step forward a tribe member stepped toward the priest poking him in the chest with a wooden pole. Looking on from across the bay, The Spaniard waved his signal flag shouting over the water. Falling to the ground, the priest kneeled down as more tribesmen stood over him driving their weapons through his body. One of the colonists rushed to the priest who lay face down on the ground swinging his sword from side to side. Immediately a hail of wooden arrows flew across the beach covering the man as he froze in place. Tribe members rushed in with clubs and spears while the crew rowed away from the beach. Abandoning all efforts to prevent conflict crew members dragged the remaining colonist to the batel and forced him inside. Filled beyond capacity the smaller vessels dipped low into water as men paddled to deeper waters. Arquebuses began to fire, filling the air with smoke and a distant booming. Tribe members began running into trees sending arrows and spears from heavy cover in retreat. The batel sat idle close to shore filling with water, leaving men swimming on either side. The rogue colonist splashed at the surface fighting the weight in which he wore, then fell below the surface. Crew members swam to the chalupa holding what little they could salvage from the batel, clinging to the side and kicking with their legs.

Climbing down from the mast The Spaniard pulled himself over the amurada, lifting bags of fruits and vegetables onto the ship. Barrels of fresh water were tied to a sling then pulled in with an aparejo. Furious at the sudden breakdown the captain looked to the shore swearing in the direction of the small figures laid down on the rocky shore. Wives of the fallen colonists crumpled on the deck in hysterical shock, still calling out across the bay in hopes that life had not yet left their husbands. Two tribesmen emerged from the trees, pulling the fallen men over the beach and out of sight in the trees. Heavy ropes hoisted the chalupa from the water and the captain gave the order to lift the anchor. Crewmen rushed over the deck untethering ropes, letting the sails fall into place as the ship turned. A scream broke from a widow against the rail, redirecting The Spaniard’s attention toward the cliffs. Stripped of his robes the priest was thrown from the overhanging edge leaving only his head held up by an indigenous man for the ship to see. The boat swayed with the wind, catching a drifting breeze and lurched toward open water. Around the island’s bend hundreds of dugout canoes appeared like small sticks floating on the water. Moving further away from the island distant yells of their pursuers carried over the ocean’s surface. Setting full sail, a hard gust pulled the rigging tight increasing momentum as the water turned blue. Soon enough the island grew smaller as the Caribs turned, leaving only sounds of splashing water and distant sobs.

Night fell upon the sea and a full moon rose into the sky. Offerings of condolences were set beside the widows’ belongings below deck. The Spaniard said a few kind words to the women and their families before returning to the timón. Traumatized by loss a small group of colonists and crew gathered around the hammocks with heads bowed in prayer. One woman, a wife of a farmer, continued her grieving, periodically breaking down into tears as the remaining priest blessed the family. The second widow, only a few years older than The Spaniard and newly married wife of a carpenter, kneeled in silence amongst the group. With emotional distress at a high, The Spaniard kneeled beside her making the sign of the cross with his head held low.

In need of repair and off course to Santo Domingo by over 300 miles The Spaniard and his colleague sat with the captain and first mate charting a course for the island of Puerto Rico. With favorable winds to their advantage the nao reached San Juan in under a week’s time. Spanish flags flew high atop of El Morro as the boat approached the port. Breathing easy morale returned to normal amid the passengers. Given a two-week window by the captain passengers were met by a military longboat and taken to shore. Stepping foot on soiled ground for the first time in months, The Spaniard crouched down pressing his hands against the earth. Early-morning church bells rang out from the city while passengers made their way to the harbor inns. Feeling like the sea had not left his legs, The Spaniard sat with his colleague inside the plaza mayor eating fresh fruit from the market.

Near the harbor inns began to fill with passengers from other vessels crossing paths into the city. Settling down in a respectable establishment near the cathedral, The Spaniard lay in bed recovering from the voyage at sea. Voices of a man and woman outside the room carried over into the windows. Opening the door to greet his neighbors The Spaniard was met with a priest accompanying the young widow from the boat. Paying his respects to the father, The Spaniard bowed to the woman who returned the gesture with a smile and a curtsy. Leaving the two alone the priest rounded the corner while The Spaniard stopped to converse. Offering to accompany her through the city, the young widow agreed placing her bags inside the room and closed the door, taking The Spaniard by the arm.

In public the two walked side by side until reaching a hill overlooking the coastline. Outside the city’s view the two sat looking out over powder-blue waters dotted with reefs, speaking in private of helpless feelings aboard the nao. Expressing mixed emotions between wonder and despair, The Spaniard and the widow agreed that this must be God’s plan. Still in mourning the death of her husband, talk of returning home to Madrid had crossed her mind. Broken, but unafraid the young widow felt that her adventure was not yet over. She spoke freely of growing up without ever seeing the ocean, and how something about the water made her feel alive. Taking The Spaniard by the hand she stood pulling his arm to follow.

Walking away from civilization the two followed a trail of broken coral to the water’s edge. Mesmerized by crystal-clear waters, the widow stared down at the schools of tropical fish below the surface, dropping bread crumbs from a rocky coral-stone slab. Laughing at the sight of hundreds of brightly colored fish jetting toward the surface, the widow turned to look at The Spaniard, pointing out a sand beach nearby. Without saying another word she walked away following the trail over the bend. When The Spaniard reached the path down she had already begun removing her clothes. Flushed by her uninhibited freedom, The Spaniard turned, asking if everything was okay. Walking up to where he stood the young widow placed her hand on The Spaniard’s shoulder setting a pile of clothes onto a rock. Saying, “hi entro, enseneya’m a nadar!,” she spun The Spaniard around to look at her then kissed him. The Spaniard dropped to his knee proposing in Catalan, “Desitjo que sigueu la meva esposa.” The two entered the water hand in hand sinking down into the shallow liquid surface.

Floating without weight The Spaniard held his bride-to-be from below, guiding her to deeper water. Feeling the natural force of distribution within minutes she needed no help at all. The two spent the day moving from one end of the shore to the other, before a fin broke the surface sending them scrambling to shore. Running up the hot sand beach to a shaded patch on the backside of shore The Spaniard collapsed onto the ground breathing heavily. Looking out at the fin patrolling the shallows the two began laughing. A moment of silence followed, then the young widow said, “Sí.” With acceptance of holy matrimony the two began making love under the sea grapes and coconut palms. Washing themselves with a leather flask the two straightened their hair and outfits and walked back into the city.

Over the next two weeks the betrothal began by meeting with a priest, who gave his blessing of eligibility after confession and retribution of their sins. A day before the departure a letter was signed by the church to be given to the priest of Santo Domingo for a ceremony. Shortly after the announcement for departure resonated throughout the passengers. On board the nao familiar faces sharing a common bond greeted one another with joy. Names of new crewmen and colonists were shared in the captain’s meeting before the anchor lifted. Names of those who wished to stay behind were given as positions were reassigned on paper. Looking back at the city The Spaniard stood in a group waving farewell. In two days’ time land was spotted off the starboard side; by noon the next day the ship sailed into the ports of Santo Domingo.

Much more developed than Puerto Rico, Santo Domingo was lined with stone buildings, church towers, and fortifications. Watching the city grow, The Spaniard held his soon-to-be wife’s hand in anticipation for the wedding ceremony. Given only two days’ leave as official documents changed hands, the crew made a final venture to land before finishing their journey to Nombre de Dios. Making their way to the cathedral, a small group of passengers gathered to witness their vows inside the house of God. Approaching the Cathedral of Santa María la Menor from the plaza, The Spaniard accompanied by his colleague and captain as testigos began to dress. Fixing his doublet purchased in Puerto Rico, The Spaniard waited with the priest as his bride entered the church. Wearing a light blue-green dress and a black gauze velo, The Spaniard’s bride walked down the hall followed by a pair of female colonists from the ship. Kneeling in prayer the bride and groom paid their respects to the Lord then exchanged consent for their love. A pair of silver rings wrapped with gold The Spaniard had made in Puerto Rico were presented as the celebratory nuptial mass began. With these simple acts the ceremony concluded with wine, bread, meats, vegetables and fruits leaving the patrons light-hearted and full. Returning to a spacious room in a respectable inn, The Spaniard and bride perfected the marriage in church law by consummation.

Returning back to the ship as a married pair, The Spaniard and his wife settled into a hammock in the far corner between decks. Work duties resumed as before with The Spaniard making his charts by night. Losing track of the days, time was no longer a concern. Feeling complete in mind, body and soul, The Spaniard worked diligently to prevent unexpected changes in course. Ten days had passed by when a strip of coastline appeared into view. Pressing forward toward the Americas a buzz of excitement could be heard throughout the ship. Lines of treasure ships marked the city in the distance.

The mood changed seeing Nombre de Dios shores. Ominous mist clung to the tree-covered mountains above and the shoreline was covered with mules. Soldiers stood guard in front of longboats filled with chests as workers dragged them into the slip. Spanish treasure galleons accompanied by warships filled the water in front of the warehouses preventing smaller vessels from reaching the beach. The atmosphere was oppressive with humidity, bringing with it swarms of insects. Minutes after setting the anchor boats filled with Spanish soldiers tethered themselves to the side of the nao. Climbing on board, soldiers spread through the hulls while the captain spoke to a general inspecting documents of the crown. Returning above deck soldiers dismounted the ship as fast as they had come. After the general’s men had paddled away, The Spaniard asked the captain for news of their next assignment. Word of an English attack had reached the town only a week before their arrival; on high alert soldiers had been ordered to screen all vessels entering the harbor. Using chalupas to transport passengers to shore, The Spaniard stepped out into sinking mud. Pulling the boat to steady ground men and women sloshed toward town holding their possessions high. Inside the town trails of hoofed marked mud continued through the streets. Ushered to their guides, colonists met at a stable near a tavern inn. Bidding the captain and crew a final goodbye, The Spaniard made arrangements for the next caravan across the Camino Real.

Two days later a line of mules arrived ready to cross the isthmus towards the Pacific coast. Soldiers accompanied the mule train to a stone path leading towards the jungle. As an expert mule handler, The Spaniard paid for a mule to carry belongings and a mule for his wife to ride. Given the nature of the assignment to the crown, the train held priority over common transport. Unlike his previous thoughts of a desolate jungle trail The Spaniard was surprised to find the Camino Real an established route full of merchants and waypoints. With weather holding out, the road was easily navigated in a single-file line. Groups of Spanish soldiers passed by pulling mules mounted with more of the chests seen on their arrival. By the end of the first day the group arrived at a small venta for the night. Tired, wet and hungry The Spaniard assisted his wife from the mule and accompanied her inside a covered outdoor courtyard. Inside the venta’s dining hall locals prepared meals for travelers who paid for accommodations. Sitting down at a long table with his colleague on one side and wife on the other, The Spaniard was given stew, wine and a loaf of bread to share. After dinner The Spaniard was shown to a private room with a bed while his colleague opted to sleep in a shared room. The sunset leaving only a single lamp light inside the room. Mosquitoes buzzed around the room and sounds of howling echoed through trees beyond the walls. Covered beneath a blanket the two fell asleep nearly instantly.

Bells ringing near the stables gave the cue to leave. Sore and itching The Spaniard gathered his belongings, making his way to the dining room for a handed-passing breakfast of meat and a small glass of cacao. Tasting the sweet drink was unlike anything the apprentice had tasted before; his heart began to beat hard, The Spaniard ran outside and began to vomit. Rinsing his mouth with water, a small woman pulled leaves from a bag to place into his cheek. Immediately the nausea went away and The Spaniard returned to his feet motioning he was okay to the arrieros.

Each day the land between oceans intensified. Crossing over streams and rivers the group moved closer to the coast. Colonists from the ship began falling ill forcing individuals to leave the train while recovering. Passing through ventas had become a small relief inside an unrelenting jungle. On the fifth day the group exited the forest into Panama City. Diarrhea and dysentery had become a plague amongst the travelers. Covered in mud and mosquito bites the caravan was inspected by military officials before entering the city. Grateful to be outside the rainforest The Spaniard was led to a fresh-water river by the soldiers then instructed to bathe. Upon inspection a military officer walked by the caravan examining each individual in the line while a second officer checked luggage for stowaway wildlife. Directed to check items outside thoroughly for pit vipers before entering churches and government offices, the caravan was sent forward leaving a dozen members behind. A field quarantine built from a stable was passed by as The Spaniard held official documents while pulling the mule carrying his wife.

Returning to civilization The Spaniard returned the mules to the arrieros, booked a room at an inn. Breaking away from the main party, The Spaniard followed his colleague to the port while his wife slept. Looking out onto the Pacific Ocean the two men presented themselves to the port official, who told them to return in four days’ time. Desperate for recuperation The Spaniard walked back to the inn, collapsing into fresh linens next to his wife. Given hardly any time alone since the wedding the following days were spent resting and eating. Relieved of their arduous journey for a small duration the two explored the surrounding neighborhood buying supplies for the last leg of their trek.

Returning to the ocean, The Spaniard along with fresh-faced colonists en route to Peru were ferried out to a galleon anchored in the harbor. Climbing aboard a mix of military equipment, soldiers and designated colonists covered the deck. Given a short speech by an admiral commander, all non-essential personnel were ordered below deck as the ship lifted anchor. Once the sails had set a clearing signal was placed to return to the upper deck. By the time The Spaniard looked back to shore Panama City was an indistinguishable plot far off in the distance. Moving south into the Gulf of Panama, the ship gained speed under experienced hands. Approached by the admiral, The Spaniard and his colleague were directed to serve under the lead pilot’s command for the duration of the voyage.

The winds of change weighed heavily against the sails, moving with astounding speed; through The Spaniard began his service to the monarchy. Leaving no stone unturned, the lead pilot guided the apprentices onboard to proper military format. The Spaniard, a coastal charcoal expert and colleague, a navigational scholar, laid their portfolios out on a table for the seasoned cosmographer to see. Impressed by their work the pilot pointed out different aspects of critique to prepare the two for formal exploration. Pulling out the first map The Spaniard had completed on his first night in training, the pilot gave his regards for keen observation in scale. Claiming that because of this particular map the ship had narrowly avoided becoming stranded in hostile territory. Thinking back to his start, The Spaniard looked over the lines finalized in ink, seeing the representations now in person.

Much more rigid than the transport vessel across the Atlantic Ocean the ship operated in order and discipline. Daily operations were conducted independently on routine schedules. The captain was rarely spoken to directly leaving all questions about operations solely on the lower ranks. Heavily armed with cannons the galleon was ready for combat on a moment’s notice. Used as an official escort to treasure ships traveling out of Peru the vessel was an intimidating sight to see in open waters. The Spaniard spent most of his time plotting grids in charcoal for maps to be copied then handed out across the American fleet. After finishing daily work The Spaniard returned to a narrow wooden berth inside a small passenger cabin he shared with his wife. Although not luxurious accommodations compared to the sleeping arrangements on the previous ship the two were grateful.

A month’s time had passed without any major incident aside from common ship-related injuries. After days of complaining of cramps and nausea The Spaniard’s wife sat him down to talk. Explaining she had spoken to the barbero-cirujano about her illness and had now missed her monthly cycle, The Spaniard’s wife held his hand and told him he was going to be a father. Ecstatic to hear the news The Spaniard kissed her with tears of joy. Given the circumstances of the expedition the two began preparing on paper essential items for a colonial birth. A day after word from above broke that Peru was now on the horizon. By the following morning the boat entered Lima’s seaport, El Callao.

Only eight miles away the viceregal city of Lima was traversed by horseback. As an experienced muleteer, The Spaniard had very little training on horseback. As his wife navigated the terrain with ease, The Spaniard’s horse began to gallop into undeveloped land. Unable to stop, The Spaniard held on as his wife raced alongside steadily, redirecting his horse and taking the reins. Afraid of losing control once more, The Spaniard dismounted his horse climbing behind his wife as she guided both back towards the road. Approaching an outpost at the city’s furthest border, the two presented papers then fell in line behind the caravan.

The city was far more expansive than expected; wide gridded streets covered in rows of houses opened the plaza mayor. In the center a bronze fountain marked the city’s central square as the two dismounted along the outer edge. Ordered to attend a mandatory mass the group of newly arrived soldiers, pilots, officers and viceroys gathered in front of the Cathedral de Lima. Falling into a line of locals attending service, The Spaniard sat down on a bench next to his colleague and wife bowing his head in prayer, thanking God for a safe passage through the sea. As the service was about to begin Álvaro de Mendaña, the man who had appointed The Spaniard in Barcelona, greeted him with a congratulatory welcome.

As the mass concluded, members of the Spanish Parliament issued papers to those attending the upcoming expedition to the Solomon Islands. Álvaro de Mendaña stood alongside other senior officers ushering operators to a section of benches as civilians in attendance left the church. A line of embroidered linens were hung over the first row of benches as the captains took their position behind them. The cloths read San Jerónimo, Santa Ysabel, San Felipe, Santa Catalina spaced out across the backboard. An eclectic crowd of nearly 400 soldiers, sailors and colonist families looked on as the meeting progressed. Speaking to many Álvaro de Mendaña recited the names of the ships in the fleet while a fellow officer unrolled a large parchment. Picking up the parchment the captain began calling out names as stewards walked out to each person with a small sealed letter.

For over an hour names of the exploratory crew were called out, amplified by the cathedral’s open architecture. Finally reaching the last name on the list, the captain directed each person to open their letter. Breaking the wax seal, a name of a ship and supporting officers were written in ink. Given a cue to move to their respective places in front of each ship’s name, people began switching places to match their letters’ directions. Looking downward at his wife’s letter the note read San Felipe while The Spaniard’s read Santa Isabel. Reassuring her that everything would work out the two separated.

A man standing in front of the Santa Isabel linen placed a second embroidered linen over the backboard reading, “Capitán Lope de Vega.” On each side captains stepped forward placing a linen next to their ship. In the middle captain general Mendaña placed down his linen and carried on with the orientation. Breaking down the pre-voyage itinerary, the captain introduced himself then proceeded to introduce the captains of each ship. Listing off conditions for non-military personnel chosen to settle the southern Pacific colony, the captain followed by ordering all to a health inspection from the fleet’s barber-surgeon. Going into great detail about uniform procedures for all to follow while at sea the crowd sat quietly listening. The sun began to set lighting the cathedral in a full spectrum of color as the orientation concluded.

Set to leave in a week’s time, The Spaniard returned to his wife falling in line to a row of university-trained physicians outside the cathedral. The Spaniard stepped forward to a grey-haired man dressed in all black while his wife met with the next médico to the left. The man looked him up and down checking The Spaniard’s tongue and skin for signs of illness. With a raise of the physician’s hand, The Spaniard was cleared for travel.

Walking over to his wife’s médico a small group of other médicos along with the barber-surgeon had formed around her. Asking what was wrong, the barber-surgeon took The Spaniard aside asking if he knew she was pregnant. The Spaniard explained that he had only recently found out before entering the city. Speaking calmly the barber-surgeon told The Spaniard his wife was running a fever. With symptoms common for patrons crossing the royal road and entering into the first trimester nautical the surgeon-barber had barred her from continuing. Pleading with the fleet surgeon The Spaniard began to raise his voice. Stepping in unseen Captain General Mendaña began defusing the situation. Listening to the surgeons’ concerns, the captain returned to The Spaniard. In agreement with the oversight the physicians had given, Captain General Mendaña motioned toward his wife to join the conversation. After a brief introduction the captain gave his condolences to the newly married couple, offering room and board to The Spaniard’s wife at his estate in Lima for the duration of the expedition. Realizing that the two had only just arrived from their voyage the captain signaled for his carriage, offering to take them to his home.

In agreement that an estate would be more suitable than open ocean, The Spaniard and his wife entered the carriage. A mile outside the major developments within the city, houses grew into estates. Stopping in front of a grand iron entrance gate, a cochero stepped down from the carriage swinging the door open. The carriage rounded a fountain then halted in place at the bottom of stone-cut stairs. The Spaniard’s wife squeezed his hand tightly holding a hand to her chest admiring the landscaping. With open hand the captain general stepped out of the carriage assisting the women as they exited. Following the captain’s lead The Spaniard walked up the stairs as a servant collected the baggage.

Through a carved wooden door a luxurious inner courtyard opened to the grand entrance staircase leading to the rooms above. The house never seemed to end as the four walked below an arched hallway to the rear garden patio. Looking out over a pasture of horses grazing, The Spaniard’s wife gasped. Being as sincere as possible The Spaniard asked politely if the property belonged to the captain. Unapologetically replying to The Spaniard’s question the captain made clear that the house belonged to a dear friend and Peruvian viceroy who was attending duties in Spain. All concerns over suitability were dismissed over a glass of wine served on a platter to the group as they watched the sunset.

Coming full circle, The Spaniard was now enjoying the lap of luxury humbly alongside the man who gave him his start. Not another word was spoken regarding accommodation. Curious of the prospect of training’s time in apprenticeship, The Spaniard told his story while laying sketches from the voyage out on a table for the captain to view. The Spaniard, an unsung hero among the naval elite, spoke calmly of the perilous journey at sea as the two wives walked the garden path toward the stables.

Captain General Mendaña motioned for another round of glasses, looking out at the two women in the distance. The look on the captain’s face had a distinct tinge of apprehension, but he continued on with his words. Telling the Spaniard he chose him because he saw great potential in his abilities, the captain divulged a concern over the lead pilot chosen for the expedition. Explaining that his master trainer was the original pilot chosen, Pedro Fernandes de Queirós had petitioned for his place in his absence. Which was not the concern rather than Queirós’s desire to lead the expedition on his own accord. A dispute between the two had led to an uncomfortable agreement that Queirós would captain the San Gerónimo second in command to Mendaña until reaching the colonial establishment. Unhappy with being placed below the captain general, Queirós had become irritable which was a cause for potential concern. Mendaña spoke strongly to The Spaniard regarding his position at sea, giving him notice if he were to hear of any foul play or misconduct to report to Captain Lope de Vega or himself personally. The Spaniard swore his allegiance to the captain general, giving his word to follow his command to ensure a successful operation.

With the air cleared of pressing concerns, Captain General Mendaña raised a glass for a toast as the two wives walked up the patio steps. The four raised silver-laden glasses to a safe passage, then drank together with lamps being lit across the viceroy’s palace. Showing his guests to their rooms Captain Mendaña and his wife made their leave. The Spaniard had only time to glance at the fine carved wooden furniture before his wife grabbed him in her arms. Daughter of a horse rancher who had only seen wealth from the outside, The Spaniard’s wife laid down on the enormous bed pulling him with her. A warm bath had been poured prior inside a washroom connected to the bedroom. Peace of mind swept over the couple who spent the night in embrace, comfortable for the first time since their journey began.

Morning came with a knock on the door from a small voice notifying the newlyweds that breakfast was ready to be served. Without warning the door opened as a female servant walked in placing fine clothing at the end of the bed. Naked and startled the two pulled the covers over their shoulders as the servant began placing polished shoes along the edge of the bed. Making her leave with a small curtsy the woman closed the door. Rising to the occasion the couple dressed in a mirror for the first time in their lives.

Mendaña and his wife greeted them cordially to a table filled with fresh fruit, bread, meat and hot chocolate. A dream-like rebuttal to their time together in crowded ship quarters and mosquito-infested jungles the two sat graciously, smiling. Days passed enjoying each opportunity to experience how the other lived. The Spaniard and his wife laid in bed together choosing a name for their child; in the event it was a boy they would name him Domingo, if a girl then Isabella. On the last night The Spaniard organized a final will and testament for his wife to return one day to Barcelona to meet his heir to his mother and father if something went awry. As it was the last time the newly married couple would see each other until after arriving at the colony, the two spent the day together, alone.

The sun had not yet broken over the horizon when The Spaniard woke. Preparing all his items a knock on the door came notifying him that it was time to leave. The four sat watching the morning rise to trotting hooves exiting the city’s walls. Two hours later the horses stopped at the ports of Callao.

Saying goodbye one last time, servants unloaded items from the carriage as The Spaniard let go of his wife’s hand. Thanking the captain general for his hospitality on behalf of his wife’s pregnancy, The Spaniard boarded the Santa Isabel.

Like the journeys before the ship held a preliminary meeting hosted by Captain Lope de Vega, issuing assignments before setting sail. Time had slipped away in an accelerated descent; the anchor lifted and land drifted away. Alone now The Spaniard fell in line with the lead pilot who put him to work cataloguing times and dates of their departure out into the ocean. Feeling like a part of him was missing, The Spaniard pressed on focusing on his role within the hierarchy. Night fell with the coast only a small line dotting the horizon; pensively looking out over open waters The Spaniard said a prayer to God then ate his dinner.

Nothing changed except the sky and sea; day after day water passed below the boat on a seemingly endless ocean. Approaching three and a half months at sea without any sign of land on the 103rd day a mountain peaked over the horizon. July 21st 1595 the fleet anchored off the coast of Marquesas Island. The ships’ presence had not gone unnoticed; paddling out in dozens of outrigger canoes the indigenous Marquesan people had gathered to greet them. Bringing with them produce, pigs and chickens the initial contact was a peaceful gathering in calm waters.

Seeing firsthand how fast relations between tribes could escalate, The Spaniard watched apprehensively as the shoreline filled with onlookers. By sundown the Spanish were loading into the filling boats with items for trade. Three days later the Spaniard entered a chalupa and brought ashore to sketch the coast. A camp had been set up a half mile inland outside the villages. Tribal members kept a close watch over the Spanish camp, causing considerable worries among superior officers. Items left idle were replaced with fruits, vegetables and livestock. Misinterpreting trade practices the Marquesans saw each tool sitting unattended as an opportunity for barter.

Women were often brought forward dressed in barkcloth tapas, flower garlands and tattoos, dancing in synchronized movements to wooden drums. Although fierce in appearance, The Spaniard found the tribe pleasant to watch. Given a chance to move to higher ground, under captain’s orders The Spaniard followed a group of villagers three miles away to a foothill vantage point overlooking the bay. High above the horizon The Spaniard sketched a panoramic image of the coast in contrast to his father’s compass bearings. Waterfalls poured down from mountains flowing through dense forest across the valley. At a loss for words, The Spaniard had never seen such beautiful landscape in his life. Two female villagers began looking over his shoulder in amazement at the lines sliding across the paper. Caught off guard by his followers The Spaniard diverted his eyes from their partly covered bodies. Undeterred and unashamed of their nudity, the women continued to point at themselves and the paper. Pulling out a new hemp paper The Spaniard began sketching the women’s faces, handing each a self-portrait as he finished. Jumping as his warrior guide returned, the women held their pictures up showing him what The Spaniard could do. Breaking into a smile the warrior pointed at the women’s portraits then pointed to himself. The Spaniard agreed, understanding his signal and began sketching out the tattooed face of the young warrior.

Returning to camp with a greater understanding of the people and their culture The Spaniard was ordered to return to the ship. Tensions between the islanders and Spanish had increased throughout the day. Villagers were now gathering closer to the camp’s outskirts adding to the fear of being overrun. As The Spaniard exited the chalupa his seat was replaced by firearms and crossbows. Other ships in the fleet began mobilizing armored soldiers to clear the camp. In an effort to recover stolen equipment taken in the continual series of misunderstandings between the Spanish and Marquesans soldiers began confronting tribesmen. Now entering the first week of August a breaking point erupted into violence.

From the beach arquebuses broke silence through the air. Shouting soldiers were matched with warriors yelling native tongues. The watering party held the beach as the massacre began. Unequipped for modern warfare, stones and spears proved ineffective against the soldiers’ metal armor. Carrying tools, rope, and articles of Queirós’s wardrobe soldiers entered the chalupas returning to the flagship, San Gerónimo. With the last of soldiers returning relatively unscathed ships began lifting their anchors. Warriors in dugout canoes followed the ships past the reef, losing ground when the wind caught the sails. Following the ships into deep water the boats in chase soon grew small.

For the second time, The Spaniard had witnessed peaceful negotiations fall apart on a whim. Saddened by the withdrawal The Spaniard stayed quiet about his time spent among the tribe. Days passed without any sign of a pursuit through the open ocean. Leaving behind any chances of a peaceful return the ships continued westward for the Solomon Islands. Mapping the stars and sun The Spaniard carried out his duties, finding peace in the solitude of work. For another month no sign of land broke through the sea. With calm waters, the Santa Isabel tailed close to the flagship as the volcano of Tinakula smoked into the sky.

With the San Gerónimo at a heave the Santa Isabel pulled alongside awaiting the San Felipe. In the distance the Santa Catalina could be seen preparing to scout the outer island reefs for a safe landing. A lowering chalupa from the San Gerónimo rested on the surface as the captains boarded the boat. Making the short crossing between ships the Santa Isabel was boarded. Walking through inspecting the ship Pedro Fernandes de Queirós dropped below deck while Captain General Mendaña spoke with Captain de Vega. Discussing a possible harbor to organize maintenance and supplies, The Spaniard stood by quietly with the crew as inventory was being catalogued. With the San Felipe still miles away the captains and accompanying crew members returned to the flagship transporting cargo and supplies. Moving as ordered in shortened sail the Santa Isabel pulled right, away from the San Gerónimo. Staying close enough for lantern signal the Santa Isabel approached Tinakula’s southwestern side at sundown.

A red glow emitted light from the volcano’s peak, illuminating a cloud of continuous smoke drifting over the island. All was as it should be; clearly responding to the San Gerónimo lantern signal the Santa Isabel maneuvered over the turbulent drop-off. Struggling at the helm to maintain control the lead pilot called out for the captain. A small group began running below deck while others scanned the whip-staff for damage. Rocking began to move the ship from side to side as the boat turned broadside. Men from below deck returned making small movements to the staff checking for tension. Moving idly backwards the captain ordered the men to drop sail. The sail dropped as the rigging pulled tight; after a small pause a quick snap was heard and the line split. Looking up at a hissing rope winding through the pulleys, The Spaniard watched the heavy canvas fold over towards the deck.

Men sprinted over the deck tracking piles of rope back to their source. Climbing up the mast groups of sailors ran rigging through the blocks, trying to regain control. Sails fluttered as the ship slowly began turning downwind. Pushing through the failed rigging Captain de Vega ordered alternate sails to be dropped to accommodate a repositioning maneuver. One sail after another fell downward, pausing as it caught the breeze, then snapped the rigging. Furious with the multiple failures the captain ordered all available men to check the rigging for damages. The Spaniard moved his hands over stationary line feeling for fraying sections. Wrapped inside the spoiled rope a deep notch slid across The Spaniard’s fingers. Holding the unreleased rope the Spaniard called out for the captain. Accompanied by the first mate Captain de Vega picked up the rope examining the notch under lamp light. The captain spit yelling, “traïció!” as he ordered the crew to investigate each unraveled rigging line individually. All night signs of sabotage were found throughout the ship as they entered the trade winds.

Running through the ship to his quarters, The Spaniard lifted his chest attempting to locate his pilot portfolio. Turning over the room, the collection of sketches and maps were now gone. The compass The Spaniard’s father had made had been forced behind the bed. The wood had cracked as if dropped and the needle no longer pointed north. Trying to understand why or who would sabotage their own crew, The Spaniard returned to Captain de Vega reporting the theft. Ordering all passengers to the ship deck the captain held an investigation into the movements leading up to the boarding. Coming to the conclusion that the damage could have only been carried out by members of the San Gerónimo, the captain signaled for help.

The island’s red glow had been replaced with daybreak and open ocean. Unable to steer the ship the island was now a small dot on the horizon. Drifting roughly twenty miles during the night, the captain ordered the ship to hold position in waiting for rescue. By the second day hope of returning to the fleet was dwindling. At the mercy of the wind and sea the Santa Isabel continued her course blindly. Crewmen worked tirelessly repairing damaged rigging rope and the rudder’s internalized components. Captain Lope de Vega swore vengeance claiming this could only be the work of Pedro Fernandes de Queirós. Four days after losing control, the island of San Cristóbal appeared out of the water.

Putting all efforts to save the ship, the captain set a course for the island’s southeastern coast. Moving steadily closer to land, the ship floated over shallow reefs finding refuge in a sheltered bay. Avoiding a surprise encounter by natives the ship waited till dawn before approaching the shore. A sandy beach landing was organized by an experienced exploratory team. Hours passed by before the team returned bringing with them a small barrel of fresh water and an elderly man dressed in native coverings. The captain made clear to the crew that all relations remain peaceful at all costs. Bringing the elder on board, Captain de Vega began showing items of interest for trade. Intrigued by the foreign exchange goods, the man agreed to bring them essential commodities.

Soon after boats were sent to shore as villagers looked on from the beach. Darker in complexion with less tattoos than the Marquesan islanders the Indios de San Cristóbal welcomed the crew. Negotiations remained peaceful as more chalupas landed on shore. The Spaniard stepped onto the beach given orders to chart the island from an elevated vantage point. Armed with ink and parchment The Spaniard followed a group of tribesmen to the island’s center. Members of the village had become curious about the lost visitors, constantly following The Spaniard from a safe distance. Climbing up steep hills the group led the Spaniard to a clearing overlooking the bay. Much larger than expected the island’s distant mountains could be seen from miles away. Each day the group of warriors guided The Spaniard to different vantage points overlooking segments of coastline. Soon a collection of segments formed a cohesive outline of the southern coast. Still loyal to the crown, for the missing sailors the expedition continued until they had reached land in New Spain.

With the trade winds slowly deteriorating, extensive repairs were required to make any attempt north to reach eastern winds. Left with only a handful of charts and navigational instruments the ship would need to be provisioned before deemed seaworthy. Along with splicing ropes and repairing the whip-staff damages to the hull caused by the island’s reef became the first major task. After careening The Santa Isabel into the beach, men unloaded ballast and cannons to heel the hull above the water line. The Spaniard carried stones up the beach placing them into stacks at the tree line. Local tribal elders summoned members of the village, who helped willingly pull tackles to large trees and carry loads of ballast.

By midwinter the ship had reached working conditions, amid unfavorable weather conditions. In the time past members of the crew became absorbed into the tribe, deserted or died of illness. Men began taking tribal wives, then disappeared into the island wanting nothing more of the expedition. Colonists and crewmen left stranded banded together in communal camps close to shore, waiting patiently to set sail once more. The crew allied against rival tribes in return for protection from the elders. For almost an entire year the ship remained in the bay until fully operational within the most favorable circumstances. Making his decision to leave at the beginning of May, Captain de Vega gathered all remaining crew members and set sail. Along with male and female members of the tribe brought on board, the ship’s crew had now been reduced to two-thirds of what it was before.

Patchwork mixed with woven palms covered the decks. A hybrid of the ship it once was the Santa Isabel had been infused with the native craftsmanship. Chalupas now bore outriggers firmly attached to each vessel, while the majority of the crew wore woven palm fronds as hats. Marooned for what seemed like an eternity on shore, the ship sailed fluidly once again. Looking like a floating jungle the Santa Isabel headed past the reef toward open water.

Taking a northern course for the Marshall Islands the Santa Isabel focused its efforts on recreating Mendaña’s returning trip in 1568. Exiting the tropical belt required connecting to one of nearby islands or coral atolls or risk dehydration. Gaining latitude gradually became the key objective.

Days of open ocean followed, giving time for the crew to reflect on their survival journey up until that moment. Many of the passengers were only hollowed reflections of who they once were. The Spaniard struggled to maintain sanity while relying heavily upon his training to keep track of navigational charts. During his time on the island The Spaniard had become intimate with a daughter of two deceased colonists. Although married, living on the brink of life and death had toppled any realistic expectation of ever returning to the mainland. The two both in their early twenties kept their relationship private as well as they could. Living together for a year in extreme isolation, The Spaniard protected her from being alone and she him. Bonding over the trials of existence the two waited until nightfall to share each other’s company.

Nearing the point in time when the coral atolls were predicted to appear, no sign of the chain ever broke the horizon. Running out of water the captain held a council meeting deliberating a change in course. With squalls unable to provide the necessary amount of freshwater, the superior officers decided to turn south in hopes of finding another island. Breaking down afterwards, The Spaniard accepted his fate, praying to God for a miracle. Without realizing that the vessel was within two miles of the Southern Gilbert Islands the ship turned.

The Spaniard filed over his logs looking for where he went wrong, unable to find any errors he stored the documents. Cataloging the change in course, The Spaniard sat quietly while members of the crew began to panic. Going below deck to share the news with others, word had already spread throughout the ship. Sobbing could be heard in darkness as the high hopes for a Pacific crossing were shattered. Making his way to his partner’s cabin a trail of thrown objects littered the floor. Now late into the early morning hours The Spaniard followed the wreckage. Light from a lantern gave a small glimpse into a disturbance that had played out only moments before. A scream directed toward her cabin sent The Spaniard running forward. Tripping over someone on the ground, The Spaniard held the lantern up shaking. Cold unblinking eyes staring upward lay motionless on the floor. Looking at a native man beaten in his final moments, The Spaniard screamed out for help. Picking himself up and running towards his lover’s cabin, The Spaniard passed a native woman lying unconscious on the floor. The doorway was opened and the room pitch black as light rounded the entrance. A broad-backed colonial woodworker filled the room. Picking up the first object he could find The Spaniard slammed an unlit candle holder toward the back of his neck.

The man’s hand lifted as he turned, followed by a call for help. The Spaniard continued swinging the metal drip pan over the colonist’s head and shoulders. The Spaniard’s lover pulled a blanket over her body and ducked below the fighting men, running from the cabin. Nearly twice The Spaniard’s weight the man seemed to be unaffected by the barrage. Turning around, his hands wrapped around The Spaniard’s wrist as he overpowered him to the ground. Unable to stop his strength, The Spaniard yelled out for help as the man’s hand covered his mouth.

Light flashed from out of the darkness as men rushed into the room. Four men threw themselves on top of the man as he was pushed backwards to the ground. Moments later the room filled with others as The Spaniard was dragged out with hands underneath his arms. The native man let go of The Spaniard, rushing back into the room to help the others. After a minute a group of six pulled the woodworker out of the cabin, dragging him across the floor by his hands and legs. The men rushed the man to the upper decks while The Spaniard located his partner.

Holding her tightly in his arms the two paid no attention to the chaos surrounding them. The two walked together toward the surface deck, stepping out into a red sunrise breaking over the horizon. The woodworker stood arrested to the mast by his wrists and ankles. Two blanketed bodies lay on deck covered from view. Captain de Vega marched directly up to the man staring into his eyes and said, “despreciable!” then spit at his boots. Holding an immediate trial the captain called on the witnesses of the accused. The young colonial woman stepped forward pointing to the man, saying he broke into her room and attacked her. The Spaniard stepped forward seconding her account stating he found the bodies of the two deceased and found him pressed over the woman. Without saying a word the man glared at the crowd forming around him. The men joined in telling their accounts of hearing the calls for help and assistance in subduing the attacker.

The captain took a moment of deliberation to consult with the superior command. Under normal circumstances the man would be confined until reaching Spanish custody, but with the ship being lost at sea the captain could not risk the safety of his crew. Sentencing the man to death, the captain motioned for a rope. The Spaniard reaching his breaking point walked over to the man striking him as a group pulled him away. The native man motioned to the noose that had been pulled out over the edge of the ship.

Giving the go-ahead to avenge his tribe members’ deaths, the two men walked to an opening between bulwark on the main deck rail. The rope was tied around a block and the woodworker stood facing out over the ocean at the rising sun. A prayer was placed over the man while he stood clenching his fist. The captain asked for any last words and the woodworker yelled out, “Tots sereu condemnats a l’infern!” With a wave of the captain’s hand, the tribesman pushed. The lurch was felt throughout the wooden planks as the rope pulled tight. With a heavy hit against the sidewall seconds passed by in silence. The Spaniard held onto the young colonist’s hand as the rope was released, sliding over the edge with a splash. Without looking back, a prayer was said as two tribesmen and a soldier picked up the blanket-covered planks, tipping them over the edge.

The Spaniard could not hold back the tears; everything that had taken place had accumulated in his eyes. Leaving the deck members of the crew refrained from speaking to one another as the reality of insanity set in. Although not the first to break, the woodworker stood as a reminder of how desperate their lives had become. In the coming days meetings were assembled to prevent a repeat occurrence. Life became increasingly uncertain looking out over a vast ocean, not knowing if they would ever see land again.

Following the strongest southwestern wind the Santa Isabel looked for any sign of mountains in the distance. Knowing that where mountains were water was also, the captain positioned a man in the cofa at all hours of the day. Twenty-five days passed before a breakthrough showed in the sky; clouds could be seen resting over a peak far off in the distance. Turning the ship hard east toward the island morale began to rise. All hope was not lost, but rather postponed until supplies were replenished. Afterward the ship would be able to continue north until reaching the Americas.

Islands appeared in great numbers, some only large enough to walk over while others jutted into the skyline. Unsure of exactly where they were heading, the captain stood looking over the sea pointing to a large group of clouds covering a mountain. Bypassing sandy coral islets for a secure solution to the water shortage, the Santa Isabel moved deeper into uncharted territory with a clear path to the north shore of Vanua Levu.

The Spaniard went to work sketching out the island the captain had named Isla del Rey Felipe. Endless reefs only gave narrow passages between the barrier islands as the ship scanned the coast for rivers. Moving westward the ship found a sheltered bay at the mouth of a river, then set the anchor. Unloading dugout canoes and outfitted chalupas for an exploration crew, The Spaniard stayed on board the ship as men disappeared into the jungle.

Daylight began falling over the sea turning the bay into a picturesque green and pink swirl. The sky filled with clouds of fruit bats leaving their roost and gathering above the mangroves. Bats dropped from the air holding onto rigging and crossbeams covering the ship’s mast. Some of the crew ran below decks in fear as others stood looking at the creatures in fascination. Under the captain’s orders crew members climbed the mast with spare paddles scattering the majority of the creatures to leave and dropping others to the deck to be eaten.

The ship gathered supplies necessary for the long journey home, filling the hull with fruits, water, live bats and birds. On the last day the explorers set out to fill three more barrels of water, leaving the ship as it prepared to sail. The men entered the mangroves up the river venturing towards the distant jungle. Over an hour had passed before a vessel returned with the lowering tide; shouting and waving at the ship the men paddled frantically through the mouth. A few minutes passed before the men were close enough to understand, screaming, “¡Lleveu l’àncora!” Two more chalupas emerged from the riverbank rowing as fast as they possibly could. Shouting followed as the first chalupa pulled alongside the Santa Isabel. The captain holding in place at the back of the ship looked down at the sailors who pointed towards the river. While the remaining two chalupas entered the bay, long dugout canoes began spilling out into the bay. Within seconds hundreds of canoes and catamarans rounded the bend as the crew hoisted the chalupa and began lifting the anchor.

Hundreds of boats turned to a hundred more; unable to outrun the smaller dugouts the two chalupas were surrounded. Cries for mercy were silenced by tribesmen pushing long wooden poles into the boats’ centers. Celebrating the deaths of the Spanish crewmen, the tribe turned its sights to the Santa Isabel. With only four cannons left on board, the artillery was rolled to the ship’s starboard side as the ship turned to face the outgoing tide. Cannons fired across the bay while men raced across the deck distributing crossbows and arquebuses to anyone with empty hands. The Santa Isabel began to move closer to the channel with the sound of thousands of tribal warriors only hundreds of feet away. Sails dropped down from above, waving loosely for a second then filled with air. All at once each sail pulled tight dipping the hull forward causing crew members to stumble forward. Just out of reach of the first dugouts the ship crossed over an emptying reef and into deeper waters.

Tribal soldiers paddled fiercely over reefs then through the channel keeping pace a short distance away. Soon the bay was filled with triangular sails of warships larger than any The Spaniard had ever seen before. Preparing for an open-ocean pursuit cannons were moved to the stern chaser gun-ports before taking aim at the enemy ships once again. Following the strongest wind the Santa Isabel moved west past the barrier islands, trailed by the war parties’ cadence. By the end of the day the smaller dugouts had fallen behind the larger drua catamarans which were able to keep pace without losing ground. The tribal fleet seemed to be holding back, always keeping a safe distance away from the cannon fire. By late afternoon the catamarans were closing in on the Santa Isabel, passing her on either direction preventing them from entering open water.

Reaching the island’s furthest western corner the Santa Isabel passed into an open channel between landmasses. From shore more sails could be seen mobilizing; unsure if the ships were members of a different tribe, the captain maintained the Santa Isabel’s course due west. By sunset tribal fleets were now approaching from behind and below, cutting off all directions except forward. All night The Spaniard remained with the pilot taking watches to prevent a change in direction.

At sunrise the two tribes sailed on each side of the Santa Isabel as it passed by the second volcanic island. With a line of boats over a mile long, the crew prepared themselves for close-range combat. The Spaniard began placing metal armor over himself and other passengers. Swords were placed in strategic positions around as the enemy assembled. Twenty-four hours after their escape the Santa Isabel was now partially surrounded. Far to the west triangular sails filled the water blocking their forward path. Turning northwest the ship approached a small green patch in the middle of the ocean with white water forming a ring around the shore.

The tribal fleets convened around the Santa Isabel in a two-hundred-and-sixty-degree semi-circle. The captain readied the cannons, commanding the crew to hold their fire. A pulling force from the island’s tidal break began dragging the ship closer to the reef. What looked like chiefs from different tribes aboard uniquely detailed catamarans gathered at the fleet’s edge. Four different tribes were now surrounding the Santa Isabel as it crept closer to the pounding wave with each roller. The reef began sloping upward toward the open-ocean wave, visibly becoming shallower by the second. A roar of thunder broke over the reef, sending mist up into the air as each break hit. The captain ordered the crew to secure themselves in preparation to abandon ship. Passengers began removing their metal armor, binding themselves against the bulwark with ropes.

A native tribesman ran to the captain urging him to take control of the whip-staff and steer the boat through the wave. With a final hand gesture of a finger sliding down his hand, Captain de Vega agreed. Approaching the wave from the right a swell rolled under the hull and the ship began pointing toward the island. As the passing ripple hit the reef a wall of water lifted in its wake. The Spaniard held onto a rope connecting him and the young colonist with his arm held tightly around her waist. A second swell passed under the ship, lifting the Santa Isabel then setting her down directly onto the reef. Resting on the coral below, the tribesman yelled out unidentifiable words to the crew, holding his hand in the air and spreading his feet out wide. Splitting wood ground from the hull causing the ship to creak as the waters receded. Feeling the Santa Isabel lift high above the reef, The Spaniard looked at the sky before the heart-shaped island appeared over the bow. Holding on tightly to the colonist, The Spaniard said, “T’estimo,” in her ear. The young colonist braced herself as the ship pulled forward at an angle, yelling, “T’estamaré per sempre,” over the roaring water.

The Santa Isabel pressed down into the center of the wave and began to hum. Water turning below the ship curled into a rolling streak behind them before curling away into oblivion. The eyes of the young colonist were not of fear, but rather amazement as she turned to watch the wall of water crashing down behind them. The tribesman yelled out a deep call in his native language forcing the ship out over the lip, to settle facing the war parties’ fleet.

The chiefs stood facing the Santa Isabel; one chief dropped to his knees holding his hands up toward the sun. A chief aboard his drua pulled a string of flowers off his neck and threw it into the sea chanting native tongue. Crowds on druas and dugout canoes began to cheer, drumming in rhythmic patterns as Santa Isabel floated closer. With a chief’s call over the ocean boats began turning, paddling in the direction from where they came.

Stuck floating in the middle of the ocean beyond the waves the Santa Isabel remained floating. Catamarans pulled alongside attaching braided husk lines. Climbing aboard the captain greeted the chief having the San Cristóbal native explain their position in gestures. Motioning to his people druas bound rope to the Santa Isabel paddling south toward the volcanic land. In the moonlight the ship was pulled into a shallow bay until the ground touched bottom.

Making the most of the peaceful offering the passengers boarded druas and were taken to the village. The remaining passengers of the Santa Isabel sat in a circle around the fire drinking earthy brown liquid from a bowl that numbed the mouth. The Spaniard stared into the fire listening to drums still holding the young colonist’s hand. Feeling an increasingly euphoric sense of relief from the mildly psychoactive drink, The Spaniard sat nodding his head to the music watching the dances of the people. Welcomed into the tribe as honored guests the festivities continued through the night. Standing up and pulling on The Spaniard’s hand the young colonist walked him out to a hill as the full moon lit the sea overhead. Whispering again to The Spaniard, “T’estamaré per sempre,” the two made love in the silver light.

For two years the Spanish sailors became fully absorbed into the tribe, working daily to restore their damaged ship to a functional state. Due to deteriorating wood and coastal typhoons the ship became fashioned into a hybrid drua. Working with tribe elders the Santa Isabel was used to transport members to distant islands for cultivation and colonization. Believing that one day Spain would find the islands, the surviving passengers of the Santa Isabel held in place. War had broken out against the southern island tribes who were unfamiliar with the alliance formed between the northern tribes. On a scouting expedition to the island of Ngau, the Santa Isabel struck the barrier reef causing the ship to lose buoyancy. Attempting to return to the northwestern coastline of Fiji the crew was forced to abandon ship a mile off the coast of Kadavu.

As the ship sank the crew filled dugouts and outrigger chalupas with cargo, paddling for the coast leaving all hope of return below the sea. The Spaniard now proficient as a nomadic colonist in the southern Pacific dug deep into the water along Captain de Vega and the surviving crew. Only a short distance away from the sinking ship the crew unloaded the vessels, pulling the boats off the beach and covering them with palm fronds. Stranded in hostile territory, sailors and tribesmen were sent out on a reconnaissance mission to search for inhabitants. On the team’s return signs of a village were found in the surrounding area, forcing the survivors to move to higher ground. Placing all supplies inside vessels the crewmen picked up the boats and carried them to the volcanic hillside. Women placed items in woven palm baskets carrying them side by side into the jungle. Working as a unified team groups of natives and Spanish gained elevation in fear of being discovered. The captain and chief scanned the volcanoes, searching for cover while the crew covered the vessels for the day.

With night falling over the island fire could be seen near the shore moving toward the place the crew had landed. Coming down from the cliffs the young colonist had found a cave only a few hundred yards away. Pulling the foliage away from the boats the crew gathered around each side directing them toward a nearby stream. Covered in vegetation the tribesman lifted the twisted vines, roots and branches upward exposing the skylight hole behind. One after another boats slipped through a green veil moving toward open space inside. With all but one chalupa inside signal calls echoed from the valley below. Running outside the collapsed chamber, The Spaniard helped drag the heaviest vessel up the stream. Women below began throwing rocks and leaves over their tracks before running through the living curtain as it was set back into place.

Night fell with the entire crew crouched down quietly inside the chamber holding a weapon. An orange light flashed through the roots tracking the parties’ movement toward the chamber. A call was sent out by one, which soon became many. Torches filled the stream’s base at the bottom step of the steep climb to the chamber. Splitting up into groups the enemy tribe climbed into the hills above. Spreading out across the volcanic ridges the torches faded except for one. Climbing up the stream a single tribesman moved through the eroded jungle canyon then stopped in front of the wall of vegetation.

Holding onto his knife the Spaniard sat only feet away from the flames, flashing orange hues through the chamber. The chief walked to the wall holding a wooden staff bound to a sword, pressing the point against the tangled roots. Filled with boats and survivors the chamber flickered dotted light over silent faces focusing their gaze toward the concealed opening. A voice of another called to the tribesman, who replied in his native tongue. A minute later a second torch appeared outside the wall, conversing in a candid manner unaware of being heard. Leaving as fast as he appeared one torch faded away while the other remained in place looking directly at the opening.

Sniffing the air and pressing his hand against a veil of vines and leaves the rival tribesman pushed into the vegetation. The roots gave way, gently sliding into the chamber under the weight of his hand. The man paused for a moment pulling back his arm staring directly into a void beyond. His mouth opened to speak, but the breath never arrived. Pulling back the curtain as the man fell to the ground the chief dragged him inside, letting the veil return into place. Surrounded by his enemies, the captain forced a linen into his mouth as the chief removed the sword from his throat, extinguishing his flame to a dying breath.

At dawn blowing conchs echoed the sound of war. Assuming the tribesman’s absence had not gone unnoticed, the crew knew it was only a matter of time before the tribe returned to the hills. In the light of day the chamber’s basalt walls funneled into a tube. A torch was lit for The Spaniard, ordered to follow the tunnel in search of a way out. Men and women pulled boats deeper into the chamber while others stacked rocks behind the collapsed opening.

The Spaniard entered the lava tube turning upward for a short distance before reaching a solid wall. Doubling back The Spaniard walked past the entrance chamber moving downward to a second chamber filled with collapsed basalt blocks from the roof above. Small beams of light shone down through a densely covered roof above dripping water from roots hanging in air. Returning to the captain about the discovery all efforts were made to fill the space. Barricaded behind a pile of basalt rocks all but two men excavated to guard the entrance.

Outside voices carried overhead; returning up the stream members of the tribe climbed into the hills. Again the group remained silent, filling the lava tubes, taking defensive positions in the darkness. Poking at the pile of boulders placed in front of the entrance, warriors on the opposite side unconvinced of anything out of the ordinary continued up the volcano. Hours passed before anyone moved; a crewman walked up the line motioning to fall back inside the main skylight chamber.

The Spaniard moved with the crowd, blindly feeling his way back into the dimly lit cavern. At the far end of the chamber a torch had been lit inside a connecting tube; Captain de Vega stood at the entrance motioning for the boats to be carried inside. The ground was rippled with curved black lines receding downward, continuously reappearing every few inches. Deep inside the volcanic tunnel the walls became jagged as the black floor rolled over a vertical shaft. Above the black-rock cover mixed into sparkling quartz veins fractured into the hard grey basalt.

The Spaniard stood next to the captain holding a torch over the edge looking down into a shadow. A rock wrapped in rope was lowered into the shaft then pulled back as it touched the ground. Fifteen varas of rope was stretched out flat in the tube above. Debating on who should go in first, the captain ordered two men to fetch the rival tribesman. Rope was wrapped around the dead man’s waist and a torch was tied to his hand. Twisting slowly from side to side the tattooed warrior descended into the pit, lighting the way for others to follow.

The Spaniard, young, strong and able-bodied had become the prime candidate to make the first descent. A rope was fixed around hitches on a chalupa pulling his lead tight; members of the crew tied knots at the rope’s end to form two loops. Placing his legs through the loops The Spaniard walked to the rounded edge as men and women held onto the sides of the boat. Pulling the rope making sure it was secure The Spaniard lowered himself over the edge. Using the warrior’s rope as a second support line the Spaniard felt himself being lowered down, walking his legs against the wall as he rappelled deeper. Touching the floor next to a burning torch, The Spaniard tugged on the rope as he removed himself from the loops.

Removing the torch from the tribesman’s hand and holding it in the air, an upward breeze caused the flame to bend. Broken across the black hall fractured stone had split, separating itself into two contrasting sides. Cracked like an egg the walls stood as parallel opposites pulled apart by the forces of nature. Moving through the chasm, quartz veins broken through eroding basalt layers reflected orange in the light. Wide enough to walk through comfortably the splitting hallway ends inside an even larger chamber. Cooled magma continued a receding pattern nearly identical to the floor above. Huge in comparison to the network above, The Spaniard focused his eyes away from the flame staring at what looked like color at the end of the tunnel.

Walking over long waving lines, The Spaniard crept closer to electric illuminations emitting from a broken section of wall. Over the floor basalt pebbles lay scattered on top of solid layers growing denser with each step toward the light. In the shadows the sound of movement and a streak in the dark caught The Spaniard off guard. Frozen in place The Spaniard held the torch up while reaching for his blade. A high-pitched “hing” amplified in the conduit as it repeated over and over again. Dropping the torch as he slipped backward over the pebbles The Spaniard fell to the ground, sitting up holding his knife from where the sound originated. With a springing bounce out of the dark a toad as big as a chicken flopped down into the torchlight. Brushing away his fear the Spaniard chased the toad through the dark catching it by its leg when it tried to jump away. Running through the conduit with a toad in one hand a torch in the other The Spaniard emerged from the hallway placing his legs through his loops then pulled twice on the rope.

Returning the torch to the warrior’s hand The Spaniard lifted off the ground. Reaching the top two crewmen pulled him up the edge as the others held on to the chalupa. Showing the captain the toad, The Spaniard told him of an opening with glowing lights in a hushed voice. The toad began its hinging chirp, sending loud high-pitched echoes through the tunnel. Slipping free from The Spaniard’s hand the toad hopped forward toward the crew who began diving on it in an effort to silence the creature. Catching the toad at the base of the forearms the crewman squeezed tightly releasing white secretions spraying out on either side. Next to the sailor a colonist crouching down to help hold the wiggling toad was sprayed directly in his face. Wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt the colonist paused, placing his fingers to his lips as though he was having a reaction. A moment of pause passed while everyone watched the colonist’s pupils widened to black circles in the dim light. The colonist opened his mouth speaking the words, “déu meu, ajuda’m,” quietly then began shaking violently on the ground. The sailor holding the toad began yelling loudly, reacting in the same way as the colonist. Letting go of the toad, the two men continued to shake on the tunnel floor. The toad hopped past them toward the drop-off, flying through the air past Captain de Vega and The Spaniard then disappeared over the edge. The Spaniard looking back at the men both now rolling over with eyes wide and screaming, rushed to their aid pulling out a leather pouch and pouring water over their faces.

The colonist’s wife rushed to help her husband, bringing with her a linen cloth and began wiping the man’s face attempting to calm him. Pressing himself to the wall the sailor continued to scream as the captain moved in with a handkerchief covering his mouth. Other members of the crew ran forward pouring water over the sailor’s hands and face. Looking into the eyes of the colonist’s wife, The Spaniard watched her pupils widen before she curled into a ball on the floor. Sensing the woman was in danger The Spaniard began pouring water over her hands, using his shirt to remove the linen from her grasp.

The Spaniard felt a rush of sweat take over his body. On the back of his neck a tingling sensation began and the light from the fire split into colors radiating with the movement. Taking two small steps forward, The Spaniard could only sit with his back against the wall, remove his clothing, closing his eyes trying to maintain a sense of self. On the opposite side of the tunnel Captain de Vega began shaking, pressing himself against a wall sitting with his hands on his knees, staring into the ground.

Over the course of minutes the three began to respond coherently, still shaken from the sudden change in consciousness. Stripped naked all who had been induced by the psychedelic secretions piled their clothing next to the wall. Watching Captain de Vega slowly stand motioning for water, The Spaniard looked around the lava tube aware of the people crowded around him. In fear that the enemy had found their position, the captain ordered the crew to enter the chamber below.

Filling a chalupa with gear every available person held on to one of four ropes, lowering the boat into the chasm hallway. As the second boat safely touched ground, members of the crew began lowering women into the pit. Dugouts filled with stones and wedged along the wall were used as anchors while the remaining men held the rope for others. With only two of the most experienced crewmen left and two tribesmen guarding the entrance chamber The Spaniard was lowered down the wall. Yells reverberating distantly from up above grew quiet, leaving The Spaniard staring up towards the edge.

Before touching down on solid ground, the two sailors had already begun rappelling down the wall. Sliding down with increased speed the men warned the crew they had been discovered. From up above the two tribesmen protecting the entrance fell to the floor. Warriors of the rival tribe were now shouting fiercely from the tube’s edge, pulling up the ropes. Running to a rope as it lifted up the wall The Spaniard jumped grabbing the double loop, forcing it down with his weight. Crew members began grabbing open spaces of rope beginning a tug-of-war with the rival tribe. Outnumbering the warriors four-to-one the rope began pulling in the favor of the Santa Isabel’s survivors. With the combined strength of many the rope was pulled through the chasm hall dislodging the dugouts. Any warrior caught in the rows of boats’ path were forced over the edge, crashing to the ground at the wall’s base.

Unable to scale the chasm’s depths angered voices could be heard through the hallway. Given a small window before the enemy found their way down, the crew made a break for the conduit’s end. In front of The Spaniard a pile of warriors, dugout canoes, and a fallen toad on the side sat tangled in rope. Staying behind to untie knots The Spaniard and a few sailors worked hastily to retrieve the rigging while menacing voices echoed from above them. Running through the hallway pulling a partially unraveled hemp rigging line, The Spaniard entered the conduit chamber moving closer to a luminous break in the wall.

Captain de Vega stood inside the opening wearing only a woven palm mat wrapped around his waist, looking into a garden of glowing plants, algae and fungus. The chalupas slid through the coarse pebbles leaving a line pressed to the ground. In the fire the ground caught the light sending scattered prisms as they passed by. The captain stopped to pick up a handful of the ground’s sediment and picking a diamond out of his palm. The group followed the middle-ground pathway of micro-diamond-infused sediment where the vegetation grew the sparsest. On either side of the path dense patches of red-lined algae resembling produce grew wild. Tasting like iodide, stalks were collected and placed in bags for later use.

The hing of toads in the distance continuously caused the party to jump in fear. Motioning towards a row of glowing orange mushrooms, the naked colonist man stepped out off the clearing into the red-line algae. Poking at the mushrooms with a shovel, The Spaniard watched a mildly luminous orange streak strike over the patch. A serpent unlike any The Spaniard had seen lashed out at the colonist’s face. Thick-bodied and covered in fungus the snake held on to the colonist’s head as crewmen raced in with axes and swords. Hitting the reptile with a blow to its outstretched body, the snake released, hissing and twisting over itself. A soldier using the point of his sword pressed through the triangular head, leaving the giant writhing in the garden.

Shocked in disbelief at her husband’s ill-fortuned fate, the colonist wife dropped to her knees with her hands over her mouth. The soldier severed the head of the snake, dragging the giant’s body out to the center pathway. Crewmen pulled the colonist from the growth, bringing a torch close to examine his wounds. Two puncture wounds over his shoulders gave the first indication that the serpent was venomous. Within a minute the man began shaking, swelling in his face and pointing at the spot where the snake bit him. The colonist went unconscious, with his wife praying by his side. Walking at the garden’s edge, the soldier held the snake’s tail stretching out its body to show the length. Standing facing the group, the soldier flinched looking down at his leg grabbing at a triangle shape covered in orange mushrooms. Cutting at a second viper, the soldier freed himself, swinging his sword wildly downward making a final stand. Dropping into the clearing, The Spaniard pulled the man into the center closer to the others. Pouring water on his wound, members of the party gathered around in an attempt to help. Knowing that the effort was futile, the soldier brushed away the crowd and asked for root wine. The man drank a bowl of muddy water, beginning to shake as the toxic venom entered his bloodstream.

Death came swiftly to the men. A final prayer was placed over their graves in the middle of the clearing. Buried with his sword and two snake heads the soldier was placed alongside the colonist then covered in diamonds. A bamboo cross was placed over each site and the crew moved onward, keeping a tight line through the center. Unable to go no further camp was set near an underground spring. The two chalupas were placed side by side then covered in red-line algae.

The Santa Isabel’s crew placed woven palm mats down behind the boats sitting for the first time in hours. A fire was made in the middle of the four large mats while the snakes were raveled around bamboo pulled from the outrigger. The Spaniard sat down still unclothed since leaving the lava tube. Sections of the vipers were handed out among the forty remaining survivors. A mix of original passengers and allied tribe members sat together quietly waiting to be served. Looking through the fire The Spaniard saw the widowed colonist wearing only woven palms eating the snake that had taken her husband. The crew of the Santa Isabel, hardly recognizable from their modest beginnings, had become savage in their fight for survival.

Sleeping next to the young colonist, The Spaniard dreamed of civilization. Waking to a wash of vibrant colors and a high-pitched call of a toad, The Spaniard stood up. Crewmen had already begun clearing the site preparing to gain distance from their pursuers. Two scouts sent out while the rest of the crew slept returned claiming to have found an exit. Captain de Vega sat crouched next to the fire dissecting a toad, opening the base of the parotoid glands examining the creature for usable parts. Ordering any toads found be harvested carefully for legs the captain placed the end of his blade in the fire.

Again the lines formed around chalupas and the group began following their scouts. Walking for over an hour through diamond-laden sediment a fault-fissure opening appeared in the wall. Groups of women who had followed the boats poured baskets full of collected diamonds into a cask inside a boat. Colorful illumination had disappeared, replaced by a dark bedrock opening just wide enough for the boats to fit through comfortably. Days passed, ending in a meal of prawns found in the springs and toad legs. On the fifth day a bird flew over the torches, giving hope to the crew that an exit might just be around the corner.

Fluttering wings sent waves of air overhead. Snapping twigs were now growing in numbers, covering the floor in an ascending ramp. Making a climb to the top first, The Spaniard looked over the mountainous nesting pile to a sheer drop. Returning to tell the others, swooping birds pecked The Spaniard’s eyes and ears. Heaving the loaded chalupas up the mountain of broken branches and caked droppings was time-consuming. Sections of the mound broke at weak points dropping out below the travelers’ feet. Men falling to their waist in broken branches had to be pulled out by others. Swarming birds continued to flap in the faces of the convoy in defense of their nest.

Three women including the young colonist dropped through a section along the outer edge. Stopping the climb, ropes were lowered where the women’s voices were heard. Using a weighted barrel to bypass the forked bushels a pull on the rope was felt from above. Climbing as she was pulled the chief’s wife was first to emerge; the young colonist followed submitting the edge into The Spaniard’s arms. Calling down into the hole no response was heard by the third; a tribal wife of a sailor remained trapped somewhere deep inside the mound. Staying behind as the others continued her husband was left with the rope as he waited for a sign of life.

At the edge of the drop-off ropes attached to a secured anchor were used to lower the boats down the most vertical section sideways. A member of the rigging crew was sent to climb over the edge retrieving ropes after the vessels were let loose in an alternating sequence from above. Soon crew members began the descent down, having the women be lowered first; the men left at the top were forced to climb. Holding onto the rope was nearly impossible; covered wet in white the rope slid through the Spaniard’s hands until he hit a knot. With twenty feet of near-vertical wall left the Spaniard let go. Unlike the climb up the sticks had accumulated thick layers of bird droppings making a semi-hardened layer over the surface. Reduced friction slid over The Spaniard’s back. Sliding without clothing past the group of women standing along the mound’s edge, The Spaniard’s body twisted spinning him wildly as he shot into the dark. Without seeing, pools of high-viscous fluid slowed his trajectory stopping him far away from the torch’s light. A yell could be heard from the top of the mound; turning backward a man passed the firelight and into the darkness.

Walking back through the thick pools of tinted orange bird waste crewmen slid past at high speed splashing The Spaniard. Regrouping at the chalupas those who made it down the vertical wall were now plastered white. As the last man slid down the others had begun moving the boats further down the runway. The majority of the crew relatively unharmed except for a few scrapes from rogue branches, two failed to return. Walking down the dark hallway with flocks of birds swirling above, a man lay dead against the wall. Taking a diagonal fall had sent a sailor off the main track toward hard stone. Another crewman critically injured lay on his back holding a laceration spanning the course of his midsection. The men were placed into a chalupa and carried forward in the direction the birds flew.

A beam of light at the end of the fracture danced with the shadows of thousands of birds. Turning to their left ninety degrees a fissure opened to a dimly lit ceiling. A land encased in mineral and stone stretched out in front of the party. Taking their first step into the cathedral, the crew of the Santa Isabel walked through the light. Covered head to toe in white the remaining survivors bathed in a nearby stream covered in deep indentations. Positioning themselves against the bird cave’s wall, a lookout from higher up the cliff pointed and shouted across the hill. Climbing up the stacked pile of boulders, The Spaniard looked out over a valley of dragons. Knowing nothing of prehistoric life crew members shuddered in fear at the sight of giants roaming the field. Captain de Vega confirmed that the animals were in fact dragons, returning to the chalupas ordering they be flipped against the wall to mimic stones.

Days were spent near the bird cave preparing to ambush their pursuers as they entered the valley. Observing the dragons from afar The Spaniard sketched the valley in charcoal onto one of the few remaining parchment papers. The dragons seemed preoccupied with grazing in a way reminiscent of cattle. As darkness fell the herd cleared the valley; darker more sinister-looking two-legged dragons would appear every few days chasing down stragglers then drag them across the river.

Without any sign of the rival tribe, the captain ordered the party to leave the valley. Camouflaging the boats and party members in vegetation, the strategy was to look like dragon eggs until reaching the river at dawn. With the morning light rippling through a reflective mineral ceiling, the group moved out. Navigating the outside edge, walking underneath the chalupas. Each member carried supplies while letting the boat rest on their shoulders. Just as expected the herd of dragons filled the opposite side of the valley. Halfway over the exposed ground, vibrations sent through the ground forced the group to halt. Placing the chalupas down over top of themselves, the crew nervously waited while the biggest of the dragons approached. Believing that the larger long-necked dragons were males, the three-horned females, and the smaller bipedal ones the offspring, it was assumed a male dragon had noticed the clutch of imposter eggs. Crew members left outside posed as bushes, ducking down behind the chalupas for cover.

Vocalizing deep songs of magic, the dragon stood in front of the vessels dropping his head down pulling a row of branches from the boat. Thinking the egg-nest mimicry had worked the crew held form. Left on the outside, The Spaniard poked his head from the chalupa, staring up at the monster. Again the dragon dropped his head low biting down on a row of leaves on the far side of the ship. In a state of fear a sailor stood to run as the mouth covered his body. The Spaniard saw his feet lift off the ground, travel into the air then stop as the dragon raised its head. Sounds of crushing metal filled the immediate area as the sailor’s breastplate crumpled inside the dragon’s jaws. Bellowing low harmonic incantations the dragon released the man. Falling to the ground in pieces The Spaniard could not help but scream.

The dragon sent an ear-piercing horn to the others who began moving to the far side of the field. Turning away the dragon walked away, leaving the crew to make a break for the water. Abandoning the disguise, the crew horrified to see Spanish metal crumpled and twisted, threw their loads in the boats, then ran to the water. Men and women piled inside the vessels and others held the rails on each side pushing the boats through the shallow river. Unable to fit inside the hull, The Spaniard held onto the boat pushing for deeper water until his feet could no longer touch the bottom. In the current the chalupas drifted past an embankment of female dragons, honking spells and charging into the water. Stopping at half the distance to the boat, members of the Santa Isabel ducked low in hopes the dracs saw only eggs in the river.

Soon the river turned to a diamond-covered peninsula with a crossing through the river. A high wall blocked the valley from view and the river turned into shadows. Following the first boat The Spaniard felt the water accelerate around him. Moving downward into the fast-moving currents, Captain de Vega called for the first boat to push to shore. Steering toward the port-side bank the current pulled the boat right, running aground hard on the boulder-covered shoreline. With the boat stopped at an apex bend in the river, the second boat moved to a wall of mist disappearing over the edge.

Pulling the boat to sit in a calm pool surrounded by boulders crew members climbed over rocks looking over the waterfall’s edge. Those lucky enough to miss the chalupa and surrounding rocks had begun pulling themselves to the shoreline. With half the crew dead or missing the captain called out to the chief sitting on the shore. Motioning that they will find a way around the chief pointed to the opposite side of the river moving with his hand down the hillside beyond.

Within minutes a flat-stone anchor line was thrown over the river; unable to secure a solid wedge someone would have to swim across. Figuring out the way to cross with a sliding anchor a crewman walked upstream to attempt the cross. With rope stretching over the river at an angle the man flowed downstream to catch it as he passed. In theory he would be able to pull himself to safety before going over the falls. As the man passed over the rope his hands dipped into the water missing the rope completely. The crew saw his hands going into the air as he fell; a moment later a sailor on the edge let everyone know he was okay.

Refining the strategy the crew pulled the rope tighter preventing it from dipping under the surface. The Spaniard now next in line walked further up the river, entering the turning water and swimming for the opposite side. Approaching the bend water began pushing him away from the bank; seeing the rope above the current The Spaniard held his hand up treading water. The rope caught in the pit of The Spaniard’s arm; pulling to secure the line with his hands, he grabbed hold. With water racing past him, The Spaniard continued fighting the current. The anchor slid over the bank catching between two stones. Pulling himself with two hands The Spaniard’s legs turned downstream. Feeling he could make it he edged closer to shore. Torrents hitting boulders dragged him below the water. Feeling the water rushing through his nose The Spaniard made a final push upward to the surface. Tension on the line lifted his head above water giving a final push toward the end. Feeling calmer water in front of him The Spaniard moved around the boulders into swirling pools on the outer shoreline’s edge.

Taking the rope and stone anchor The Spaniard wedged the line through two rocks. Threading a leader through a metal ring on the chalupa Captain de Vega began filling the boat with crew members. The rope was stretched out downstream then secured by a wedged knot over a flat stone identical to the Spaniard’s. With the bow facing upstream the threaded leader was looped around the crossing rope and a third rope was tied to the hull. Crossing over less than twenty meters from the waterfall’s edge crew members ferried themselves and cargo to the opposite side. One man stayed inside the boat while the remaining members pulled on the return line. On the third trip across the return line was tied to the anchor line before Captain de Vega and four experienced sailors made the crossing.

On shore a sailor unlatched the wedge letting the line go slack, using the two ropes to shake the wedge free across the river. Boulders covered in brambles were scaled down by placing bamboo over gaps between rocks. Using foliage to reduce momentum the chalupa slid down gradually. Crew members began appearing halfway down the waterfall’s edge, lightening the load and expediting the progress.

The bottom of the waterfall crew members had been pulled to the shoreline near the plunge basin. Without any sign of the chalupa the crew crossed the slow-moving river, gathering beneath the waterfall. Stones were piled on top of the four bodies and a prayer was said in their wake. Without stopping for rest the crew set out to find other members washed downstream. Slower than the river above injured crew rested inside the chalupa with experienced boat handlers while the others pulled behind by a rope. Moving slower with the current the boat rounded a corner; walking in the direction of the waterfall the recently widowed colonist was called to as the chalupa approached. Unable to stop the captain called out to the woman, telling her to enter the water as the boat passed.

Running into the water the woman floated behind, swimming for the rope. For another mile the river meandered through a round-boulder shore mixed with black-sediment beaches. Still trailing behind the woman struggled to gain distance with the boat. Frantic yells from the bow called out to the others of another drop-off dead ahead. Steering the vessel toward shore the chalupa ran aground on a glimmering beach, sending the rope of people past before it tightened. A crewman darted up the beach anchoring the boat, keeping the crew fixed to pull themselves out of the water. The Spaniard moved to the end of the tether, swimming out into the center current, calling to the woman floating. Swimming in The Spaniard’s direction the woman drifted into his arms. Wrapped tightly around The Spaniard the colonist grabbed for the rope. Holding on to each other, members of the crew pulled the two through the oncoming current until their feet touched the black-stone beachhead.

Lying down on a mixed bed of emeralds, rubies, sapphires, diamonds and other precious minerals the woman hugged the Spaniard tightly, kissing his face telling him thank you. Walking to the edge of the falls a jewel-covered canyon with thick walls of moss and algae opened beneath the waterfall. With no way down a group of survivors stood on the beach communicating with crew members above. Ordered to follow the river the party set to regroup further upstream. Above the beach slabs of volcanic rock sloped downward to a valley floor running along the canyon’s outer wall. Wasting no time the crew pulled the chalupa from the river carrying their load down the hillside.

Thick vines spread over water-soaked trees covering the lowest slabs’ perimeter. A marshland runoff fed by the river above opened on the valley floor. Stepping through ankle-deep water letting their vessel float over aquatic vegetation, crew members searched for a way around. Rounding high tapered slabs extending the marshlands’ edge, Captain de Vega pointed at a small hammock toward the valley’s center. Nearing midday the crew stepped out onto an elevated atoll, taking a moment to evaluate the landscape.

The Spaniard walked around the atoll scanning other hammocks in the distance plotting a directional line to reconnect with the river. Working with other crew members, The Spaniard looked at the cathedral’s vertical walls mapping the lower canyon against them from the outside. Focused on predicting where the river would intersect the marshland valley, The Spaniard stood turning backwards to face the hammock behind. At first glance The Spaniard thought a survivor of the wrecked vessel had located the party’s position.

A man wearing hardly any clothing walked along the shoreline, crouched down then placed something in his mouth. Without noticing The Spaniard the man began to walk away. From a distance The Spaniard called out with a whistle, catching his attention. It soon became clear as the man turned that this was no ordinary human, but something else entirely. Shocked by the man’s primitive demeanor, The Spaniard instantly regretted calling him over. Standing over a hundred feet away the man looked at The Spaniard and shouted, “ugh!” Gasping at the sight of his a primitive hominid form The Spaniard stepped back preparing to run. The man shouted, “Ugh,” again walking into the water. Movement in the vegetation behind the man caught The Spaniard’s eye. What looked like a tree darted across the hammock grabbing the man around the waist with its mouth. Waving his arms uncontrollably as the creature pulled him back on land, the man’s repeated “Ughs” became panicked. Catching the attention of other crew members with the sound, The Spaniard pointed as they arrived to witness the creature walking backward into the brush with the strange man in its mouth.

The scouts ran back to the crew, shouting, “drac!” Picking up the chalupa men and women pushed the boat back into the water, moving on the opposite of the hammock with spears and swords drawn. Taking a hard right angle as the hammock ended the Santa Isabel’s crew members kept to the far sides of hammocks dotting the marsh. For another two miles the crew walked apprehensively until seeing a clear bend in the walls’ protruding formations. Soon the land rose above the water line giving a clear view of a sloping waterfall cut between the canyon’s outside wall. Heading in the direction of where the water flowed, the group walked through sporadic thickets of thin trees.

Approaching a river basin the captain used his boatswain’s call to signal for missing crew. Knowing those who had been washed into the canyon must be near the group waited for a response. A quarter mile away the faint sound of a boatswain’s pipe was heard. Captain de Vega made two whistles in succession, waiting again for an answer. Moving to the sound of the whistle response, The Spaniard helped lift the boat with the others. Pulled onto the shoreline, the second chalupa sat idle, cracked and splintered along the rails. Gouges streaked in lines across the hull showed signs of a struggle and the crew was nowhere to be found. A blast from a boatswain rang out a hundred meters away. A sailor emerged from behind a patch of trees in a sprint; a moment later four more men and a woman ran into the clearing.

The last of the missing crew warned the captain of dragons disguised as trees hiding in the waters behind. Listening to their story intently The Spaniard stood by Captain de Vega as the survivors spoke. After exiting a canyon of riches ten crew members had dropped down the rock wall into a pond upstream. The chalupa was found capsized on the outside edge near flat stones sticking up from below the water. While trying to retrieve the chalupa a dragon entered the water pulling the others below. The five survivors showed the teeth marks of the drac de l’arbre turning the chalupa over, running their fingers over the lines showing the damage of its bite.

A crew member pointed to the trees, yelling, “drac de l’arbre!” as the dragon rushed the crew. The animal’s head twisted with broken notch-like scutes opened wide revealing rows of teeth. Picking up the chalupas, The Spaniard helped push the vessels into the river. Clamping down on a heavily built colonist man the dragon stopped, lifting its head, tossing the man deeper down its throat. People jumped inside vessels pushing at the riverbed with spears and paddles, leaving the beast at the shoreline. Making the sign of the cross Captain de Vega ordered the boats to remain side by side downstream if more should appear.

For two more hours the crew moved downstream, stopping at a redline moving up the cathedral wall. Down ten from first entering the cathedral, hostile terrain had proven to test the hardened survivors. Ordering that all trips away from camp be accompanied in pairs, Captain de Vega checked remaining inventory. A camp was fixed away from the water’s edge inside a horseshoe-shaped patch of trees. Building a fire only long enough to cook, crew members issued out prawns and small portions of the last toad legs.

With light slowly fading up the cathedral’s walls The Spaniard was approached by the woman he had pulled from the river. Accompanying her to a nearby patch of trees the recent widow stopped to thank him for saving her. Nearly twice The Spaniard’s age the woman kept his hand in her palms holding it close to her heart. Promising to keep her safe to the best of his ability the two kissed. Lying on the ground The Spaniard sat with the woman on top of him, making love as the cathedral turned a deep pink. Outside the realm of civilization and modern restraints the two vowed their love for one another in private, returning to camp in purple light.

Among the Santa Isabel’s crew sharing partners had become a common occurrence. Losses of husbands and wives combined with tribal influence in isolation had reorganized relationship roles among the survivors. Closer as a group the remaining members referred to themselves as “Isabelline.” A tribe of lost explorers believed to have vanished at sea now resting in a caldera cathedral beneath the southern Pacific Ocean. Letting the young colonist know that he was bound by love to both women, a mutual understanding was met between The Spaniard and the two colonists.

At dawn the chalupas were returned to the water, pushed out into the current and continued their journey into the unknown. Placid slow-moving water gave little protection against unforeseen predators. A naked hominid walking the shoreline stopped looking at the chalupas pass. Thought to be a native tribesman Captain de Vega passed by poking only his head over the rail. Despite The Spaniard’s counsel the captain spoke to the small man, holding minerals collected from the river. Intrigued by the reflective rocks the man followed the boat. The captain ordered the boat to halt for possible bartering negotiations.

On shore men readied their swords while the oddly built pygmy ducked behind a rock. Poking his head over the top the man looked toward the captain as he held a handful of stones nodding his head. Slowly the man began nodding back, walking out from behind the rock. Initiating barter, the captain pointed at the precious minerals in his hand then made a motion toward his mouth for food. The small man nodded repeating the captain’s hand gesture for food. Walking closer the strange pygmy mimicked the captain’s one hand pointing at the stones. Pouring a small number into his palm, the man closed his fist turning back toward the rock and running away. From a distance the explorers saw the man dump a small handful of gemstones into his mouth. The crunching could be heard from the water’s edge; choking for a second the small man swallowed. Returning to the captain with an open palm the naked man had clearly chipped multiple teeth in the process.

Unwilling to continue negotiations Captain de Vega ordered the sailors to return to the boat. Noticing women on board the pygmy puffed out his chest, taking one hand and hitting his pectoral muscle. Losing fear of the crew the strange man reached down at Captain de Vega’s crotch, pinching it with two fingers and pulled. Holding up only two fingers pinched together, the pygmy looked at the women triumphantly, showing them a mouth full of chipped teeth. Crew members began beating the man with wooden poles brandishing spears and swords. Confused the pygmy backed down moving a short distance up shore, staring at the boats with his hand out.

Pushing chalupas into water, the captain held the front of his pants while The Spaniard entered the boat. A scream from the boat ahead redirected The Spaniard’s attention back to the pygmy. Following the boat the naked man walked with his hand out; behind him a dragon on two legs followed. The dragon stopped next to the man reaching its tail over the pygmy’s shoulder, tapping it then pulling away. The odd naked pygmy turned in the opposite way of the dragon, looking to see what had touched his shoulder. Within a second the dragon snapped down on the pygmy still holding out his hand. Watching what the captain called a “botifarreta” lift off the ground The Spaniard ducked into the chalupa.

The dragon, twice the size of their boat, stood upright, making short work of the tiny botifarreta man. So far the dragon-egg disguise had been successful in keeping the crew safe from the dragons. Lying flat inside the boat they heard only steps along the shoreline as the monster followed alongside the boat. The Spaniard laid on his back facing a crystallized ceiling, listening to the crushing sediment transition to splashing ripples. Entering the deepest section of the river a current took hold of the vessel. Wake brought on by the dragon’s legs rocked the boat as it edged closer.

A tail swiped over the outer edge, sliding over crew members as the boat moved forward. Making its move the dragon moved over the bow opening its mouth and lunged downward. The Spaniard let out a cry of terror seeing the snout drop over the opposite rail with room to spare. Looking directly into the eyes of the beast, The Spaniard waited for the jaws to close around the chalupa. Despite covering the boat like an archway the dragon froze. With the current the boat passed through the dragon’s mouth beginning to poke through to the other side. Holding a crucifix in his hand The Spaniard looked down the throat of the dragon. Teeth scraped along the boat’s edge, tapping against them in the settling wake.

From the chalupa’s bow the young colonist covered her mouth fighting to prevent her cries from being heard. The Spaniard felt the monster’s hot breath grow cold upon the stern’s exiting. Turning to poke his head above the rail, The Spaniard looked to the dragon who remained frozen in place, hovering open-mouthed above the waterline. The Spaniard held out his rosary-bead cross necklace, pointing it at the dragon and said, “que déu ens guardi!” With the boats winding around a bend the dragon remained in place.

The Spaniard believing the cross had protected him from the dragon sat holding his necklace looking backwards at the bend. Picking up speed the river sloped downward following the cathedral’s starboard wall, stirring calm water into a run. Risking rapids over land dragons Captain de Vega motioned to stay the course. Moving faster men and women kept bamboo stocks over the chalupas’ rails, pushing past large boulders over the water’s surface.

Soon caught inside a torrent of white water the chalupas bounced down chutes leaving their passengers clutching the rails. Small pools turned the boats in place while crewmen fought to keep the vessels from colliding. Pressed into a steep gully against sheer cliff walls and a steep embankment of volcanic stone, the Isabellines descended into darkness.

Forced through a fluvial tunnel beneath a natural rock arch bridge, The Spaniard held his pole over the edge listening to the water filter through narrowing walls. Slamming into the chalupa in front of them, the boat turned sideways. Wedged between the wall the lead vessel gave way, pouring its riders into the water. Water began to fill the hull, dragging below the running water as it flipped. Bathed in cold water over his face, The Spaniard reached out, feeling his hands slide over the boat’s underside. Moving with the river, voices of men and women spread through the tunnel. Hands felt out blindly in the dark grabbing onto others in close proximity while keeping a barrier from hidden obstacles.

Washing out from the cavern light returned onto a rocky shoreline; party members and their supplies lay scattered in the wash. With all but one member accounted for the group swept through shallows collecting items displaced from the capsize. Piles of gear stacked on the riverbank sat unattended, devoid of the vessels they once belonged to. Minutes passed by without any signs of the boats or the missing sailor. Knocking wood resonated at the tunnel mouths as men waited in waist-deep water waiting for boats to appear. Spit out, partially filled with water the first chalupa drifted out of the cave floating into the hands of the waiting crewmen.

Looking back high cliffs jutted above the water across from the stone-covered shore. Now resting at a lower elevation, the chalupa was pulled over the stones to dry while the crew waited for the second boat to appear. A forest of thin trees up the rock-covered shore blocked any view of the land beyond. Ordered to scout the tree line, The Spaniard followed the chief into the woods. At the far end of the trees a rolling valley covered in white flowers stretched out as far as the men could see. Returning to relay the news, The Spaniard helped fill the boat, leaving a cross-shaped arrow of rocks pointing into the trees.

Finding their way through to the meadow beyond a camp was set in the foothills along the forest edge. A fire was made in mid-afternoon, used to cook fish pulled from the river by the chief and his tribesmen. At a loss for words the crew sat in a circle around the fire passing a coconut shell of root wine. With the power of God and prayer now firmly embedded into their minds, crosses were drawn onto clothing to protect them from the dragons. The Spaniard enacting a miracle witnessed by all present was now titled as a priest.

At dawn members of the crew returned to the shoreline, scavenging for any loose items washed out from the tunnel. The missing crewman lay in shallow water with an injury to the head. Giving his life to free the chalupa, the man was buried under piles of stacked stones then marked with a cross. For two weeks the Isabellines remained in the protected valley. Tired of running the crew had found a peaceful sanctuary free of the large dragons above the cliffs. Multiple women in the group began to show signs of pregnancy, keeping the party from moving onward. Feeling safer in the rolling flower-covered hills, temporary structures were constructed as the group theorized colonization.

Waking to a call to arms, The Spaniard looked over the hillside now covered in pale women unlike any he had seen before. Oddly shaped hands and feet and white coverings gave first impression of angels. Each holding blades the women surrounded the camp, outnumbering the crew three to one. Attempts at verbal communication failed, leaving the captain to use hand gestures to explain their presence. Blond-haired women among the group placed their hands an inch apart bringing the shape to their pelvis then pointing at the men. Much more responsive to the women in the group, negotiations were carried out by female crew members while the men kept their distance.

Agreeing to bring the female crew members back to the colony, the men remained at the camp guarded by the women in white until their return. A day later an enclave of the pale blond-haired women surrounding female crew members returned ushering the men to follow. Over the hills stacked stones leading to a wall were walked along until a monumental structure rose up from behind. Massive pyramids broke over the protective barricade, covered in winged creatures circling above. Refused entry inside the city walls, the men were allowed to remain outside closely guarded day and night.

With negotiations conducted through charcoal sketches and body movements, an understanding between the council and crew had been agreed. Given a patch of land away from the outside walls, the crew was free to build shelter in return for services. Especially interested in the bell on the chalupa, under the captain’s orders The Spaniard sketched a large-scaled version as a blueprint to be forged. Over the passing weeks raw material was gathered as the settlement took shape. Using diamonds smelted into iron ore for a hammer a blacksmith colonist began working to create the bell’s shape.

Daily trips to metallic veins spreading throughout the cathedral’s walls became routine for The Spaniard. By sharing knowledge among the colony about modern 15th-century industrial practices, the Spanish crew played an influential role in developing innovation inside the city. Gathering material to form a clay mold near the forge, thousands of what the crew called “Dona-blanca” dropped baskets of clay sediment pulled from the river’s shoreline. Short of wax, using all available resources, small ear slots on the side of the Donas-Blancas’ heads were scraped of ear wax and stored. Copper, cassiterite, silver and iron were smelted to form ingots later used for compositions of the bell and clapper. Testing compositions on scaled-down molds the blacksmith decided on majority copper and tin alloy with a small amount of silver for the body. Iron, nickel, phosphorus and trace amounts of cobalt were used for the clapper. An outer mold was made from hair collected from the Dana-Blanca, volcanic sediment and clay. The ingots were then smelted down and poured into a pit dug into the ground containing the molds, buried then left to sit.

Soon the great bell was completed, pulled from the ground rivaling the greatest bells in Spain with a diameter of over two varas. A true masterpiece fit for a Spanish cathedral now existed inside the subterranean world. Given permission to enter the city for construction, the lead council matriarch pointed to the top of the tallest pyramid. Weighing over three tons the bell was brought in using the strength of Dana-Blanca’s numbers. Chosen as an elite expedition team under King Philip’s rule, colonist-tradesmen began engineering scaffolds and support cradles from thin trees resembling a nest. Using volcanic sediment, burnt limestone, plant starches, ash, Dana-Blanca discharge, and water mixed together to make mortar. Pozzolana, quicklime, slaked lime and sand was dried around stacked stones acting as cement for a ramp.

Making great progress in the first month, the crew of the Santa Isabel alongside the Dana-Blanca had managed to move the bell four levels up the step pyramid. With each level becoming increasingly narrow, disaster struck as the bell entered the seventh level. With only two steps until reaching the pyramid’s highest pinnacle, a newly created ramp gave way dropping the bell down two platforms before support lines pulled tight. The weight of the bell pulled with great force sending workers holding ropes and braided harnesses flying off the side of the pyramid. Among the critically injured the lead architect, who survived only by landing in a patch of small trees at the pyramid’s base. Without cutting corners, the bell was repositioned and the ramps fortified until properly dried. One year after beginning the construction the bell was raised on a stone bracket fixed on top the pyramid’s highest platform.

Pulling on a rope, the Dana-Blanca council leaders tilted the bell letting the vibration ring out across the cathedral as the city celebrated. Although nearly completely deaf the Dana-Blanca used the bell nightly at first sign of the redline on the cathedral walls. For another year the remaining survivors of the Santa Isabel lived outside the Dana-Blanca’s wall exploring the sanctuary’s surrounding areas. Still bound to the Spanish empire finding a way out frequented strategic conversation. Although safer than the highlands the sanctuary was never completely free of the dragons that roamed the land. Smaller finned dragons, “Drac de vela,” had become immune to the power of the cross. Although easy to outrun drac de vela roamed over the valley forcing the shelters to be propped up on stilts. Waking up to a larger “drac de la nit” pressing its head through a shelter’s opening, five crew members were lost before slaying the beast.

With male members still refused full access to the safety of the pyramid city’s walls a decision was made to continue looking for an exit. An expedition formed dictated by seats inside the chalupa. Offered a choice to stay or go many female members of the Santa Isabel now mothering children remained inside the walls. Critically injured men unable to continue lived in the settlement outside the walls accompanied by colonists unwilling to continue. Understanding that city walls provided safety inside the primal canyon, The Spaniard said goodbye to the young colonist and widowed wife, promising that he would one day return.

The chalupa was raised up a collapsed section of cliff by pulleys in the valley’s back left quadrant. Crewmen said their goodbyes to families and friends, then moved into the tree line. A bell tower perched eye level with the turning cathedral wall was the last thing The Spaniard saw before rounding the bend. Moving into the upper valley corridor a wall of stone lifted into the sky. Following the wall’s eye to its base, The Spaniard climbed high above the valley entering into a single rounded slot in the center.

A small access way along a crack inside the half-sphere opening was the only way forward. The Spaniard ducked low moving through the darkened space holding a hammer. Unsure if the tunnel marked the cathedral’s end The Spaniard walked with one hand on the wall stepping out to an untouched canopy of pine. Raising up higher than the platform on which he stood, The Spaniard looked for the ground, but saw only a misty fog. The songs of dragons could be heard in the distance, calling to him as if they knew The Spaniard had arrived. Holding on to his rosary-bead cross, The Spaniard said a prayer then returned back through the crevasse.

After hours of pulling the chalupa over boulders and a pile of broken basalt the crew settled inside the eye in the wall. Stopping for the night, the boat was laid across the spherical entrance and a fire was lit for cooking fish. Less than a day’s walk from the Casa de Dana-Blanca the crew sat perched over a shattered pile of volcanic stone looking out across the upper valley. At first sign of the redline transition to night, a bell’s toll rang out in the distance.

At dawn crew members moved through the opening with braided vine measuring the distance between walls. With the chalupa only able to fit through the first few meters of the crevasse, men sat along basalt protrusions chiseling at the stone with diamond wedges. Placed in charge of repelling dragons The Spaniard kept an eye on the forest while strategizing with Captain de Vega. Walking around the outer edges of the broken platform a narrow footpath on the right was bypassed for a wider pathway to the left. Two days had passed by with the crew nearing an opening wide enough for the chalupa to fit. With the redline the familiar bell rang out again and crew members ate rations of fish before resting for the night.

During the late hours before dawn a panicked crewman attending his watch woke the captain. Joining in to investigate The Spaniard moved through the crevasse in candlelight looking over the cargo placed on the opposite side. The food stores had been plundered with no sign of the previous crewman on watch. Talk of desertion began as the three men followed a trail of scales leading downward toward the forest. Facing an immediate crisis, a party of four men including the Spaniard were sent back to the Casa de Dana-Blanca for food. Ordered to check the settlement for the missing man, the four left at dawn.

Within only a few hours The Spaniard had climbed back down into the sanctuary valley towards the towering pyramids. Running to meet him as The Spaniard approached the widowed wife hugged him as though he had been gone an eternity. Relaying the news of the deserted crew member, no sign of his presence had been seen inside the settlement. Food stores were placed inside woven flower-vine baskets while the men spent the remaining moments with their loved ones. In need of two replacement crew members The Spaniard’s widowed wife volunteered for the journey, along with a tribal bride of a sailor.

At first light the six left the valley each carrying a basket of fresh and smoked fish. Again their goodbyes were said before climbing up the cliff to the forest above. Within three hours the group had made their way to the loose-basalt base of the wall’s eye. Upon entering the rounded formation the chalupa was now gone, moved through the space in the wall during their absence. Captain de Vega was found on the opposite side of the barrier wall standing next to the loaded chalupa. Two more crew members taking watch had deserted during the night. Lecturing the crew that a mutineer caught breaking rank will be held for trial in Spanish court, the captain finished his speech and the crew lifted the vessel.

For a mile a gradually descending ledge covered in star-branch coniferous pines lowered through the mist. Sounds of waterfalls and dragons were soon muffled as the ledge dropped below the lower mid-story branches. In reduced visibility the crew shuttled the chalupa to a bed of fallen branches and needles. Soft like a sponge, the moist ground sank below their feet allowing the chalupa to be dragged over a shrouded forest floor. Tripping over a pile of fallen pine needles The Spaniard’s boot slid over the top grazing a solid mass below. The man’s eyes looked blankly toward the ceiling as a layer of pines were cleared from his body. One of the missing crewmen thought a deserter now lay dead, partially covered on the forest floor with an open sternum and a missing heart.

Assumed the work of Satan’s dragons The Spaniard prayed for the man holding his beaded cross, closing his eyes. A whistle in the trees muffled through distant fog as the crew gathered closer together. Covering the man in stones and pines a cross of broken branches was placed over the pile’s head. A haunting chill had swept over the forest leaving drops of resin-laced dew falling from the branches above. Crashing water against the outer wall poured into the fog, dropping heavily through the canopy all the way to tree trunks below. The ground had become soaked, saturated by pools of water hidden underneath the star-pine coverings. Members sank into the sap-stuck patches of needles covering bogs, disappearing from view until long branches could be forced inside the pits. Poking endlessly at the ground in front of the chalupa, The Spaniard’s hands and legs began to stick together. Peeling his fingers from a broken branch as the waterfall neared, The Spaniard looked down at his body. Almost completely covered in sap and pine needles, the crew resembled the forest floor more than their former selves.

Moving water flowed from the wall toward the forest center like a border between nations. Taking a chance on fate, the Isabellines entered the boat, pushing off into the pine-covered river. Winding through a dark path of thick trunks stacked high with fallen pine straw the crew dug through clumps of pine litter built up below the water’s surface. Traveling four miles into the heart of the densely packed forest, stacked deadfall moved down from the river collected to form a dam. A pile of forest litter touching the lower limbs of the Goliath-sized trees halted the vessel at its base.

Paddling through floating drifts of needles covering the surface of the flooded forest floor, the chalupa broke left moving with the runoff. Pinned between two floating mats stacked higher than the chalupa’s edge the group could only wait while the drifts moved forward in turn. For two days men exited the chalupa, walking on top of floating stacks prying at submerged branches to clear a path through. By the end of the second day the floating islands of debris began to break free. Moving forward in line with the foliage, the water deepened spreading out the floating masses into a flooded-lake clearing.

Free of trees light from the ceiling above shone down in prismatic oscillations over the lake’s surface. Across the lake at a great distance, long-necked dragons could be seen breaking branches off trees and wading through the waters along the lake’s shore. Attempting to cross without being seen the group paddled for a pile of floating litter in the center of the lake. Midway through the lake a dragon began moving toward them, entering the water’s depth up to its chest.

With only the neck and head above the water line the dragon crept closer sending ripples across the lake in its wake. Men began screaming, turning the boat towards the shore, paddling furiously in the dragon’s approach. Moving to the bow The Spaniard held his cross out in front of him shouting, “que déu ens guardi!” towards the beast. A hundred meters away the dragon’s song sent geometric waves of sound cascading over the water. The vibrations rippled across the lake’s surface making the water dance around them. Again The Spaniard held his cross out, shouting the words, “que déu ens guardi!” With only the head sticking out over the water the dragon ducked below the chalupa. Ring-shaped bubbles rose up in a line surrounding the vessel causing the boat to rock. Peering down into the tea-colored water a dark shape passed underneath, moving to the opposite side with a small knock against the hull.

Paddling for their lives the dragon’s head reappeared a short distance away. Blowing a horn of spraying mist as it rose from the depths the dragon continued on without looking back, then stopped in front of the floating pine-straw island. A rainbow of spray sprinkled through the air with the crew crying out in fear. Moments later large drops of water rained down upon the passengers. Hitting the deck and soaking their coverings for only a second, the shower of rainbows ended. Making the sign of the cross The Spaniard dropped onto the bench with the boat headed for the nearest shoreline.

On the lake’s bank men pulled the chalupa through piles of molding pine drifts watching the dragon still fixated on the floating island. Congratulated for his bravery Captain de Vega patted The Spaniard on the shoulder. Firmer than the waterlogged forest bogs the ground remained relatively dry. Flattened by the weight of dragons, pathways opened up like walkways inside the tree line. Light began to dwindle under the canopy as the party searched for a way around the dracs. Moving deeper into the trees the ominous fog returned overhead.

Songs of the drac del cor had become muted and distant, dampened by thick star-shaped pine branches. Sap caked over the bodies of the crew lessened its adhesive grip, wiping away in gummy streaks as the dragons’ mist dried. Crushing through pines after multiple days trapped inside the chalupa led to fatigue. Members began to grow weary, slipping over loose duff and branches; the captain called for a camp. Consumed by the pines, a welcome rest came sitting on top of stacked needles. Digging down till reaching a compost layer loose needles were pushed aside and a fire was built.

Unsure of time of day the crew collected readily available tinder preparing to take the flame through the night. Fear for the unknown seemed to disappear in the glowing flame. Comforted in the warmth the crew ate the last of the fresh fish, readying themselves to survive the night. The dark forest turned to black, swallowed by the cathedral’s transition into the twilight hours. The fire burned high, radiating an orange glow against trunks of trees, casting moving shadows through the forest. Sleeping in a close group half the party rested while the remaining members took watch.

Woken by Captain de Vega, The Spaniard sat up as he held his finger to his mouth then pointed through the tree line. In the flashes of flames a face could be seen peering into the camp at the shadow’s edge. The Spaniard felt his heart begin to race as the captain grabbed his shirt holding up four fingers then making a circle around the camp. Looking around the feline forms darted behind trees, circling as they stalked. With predators searching for a way inside the camp men stood with their backs to the fire forming a ring, shoulder to shoulder. The Spaniard looked over to his wife waking her while Captain de Vega moved to the next person over. Sitting up in a hurry The Spaniard’s wife began crawling toward the fire. Turning for a second The Spaniard looked to where he had seen the face between the trees. Reaching for his wife’s hand movement under the needles caught The Spaniard’s eye. Inside the shadows an arm extended from the drift, stretching out its paw and unsheathing its claws.

It was as though time had stopped as one point touched the white gown. In an instant the claws curled, pulling backward, dragging The Spaniard’s wife into the pines. From deep inside his stomach a rage never felt before came out through The Spaniard’s mouth. Picking up his hammer The Spaniard ran to his wife grabbing her under the arms and swinging at the pile of needles. The drift buckled as the claws unraveled, disappearing into the mountainous litter. A horn from a dragon answered his call, blowing hard through the trees sending the felines back into the shadows. Leaving only four striped gashes in the white flower gown the cats had vanished.

Dawn brought heavy fog creeping over the forest from across the dam. Running to the dragons, the party moved at first light. Deemed servants of God by The Spaniard, Sacerdot del drac, the company rounded toward the lake’s central banks. A soldier walked a short distance in front of the chalupa holding a cross and a sword. Weakened by lack of sleep and inhospitable terrain, party members struggled to lift the chalupa. Sweating profusely in the morning’s humid heat, The Spaniard pulled desperately at the boat with no avail. Members of the crew kneeled on the ground, slipping deep into dried brown needles with each push forward. Looking over the bow unable to continue, The Spaniard watched the soldier continue forward without notice. Wrapped in a blanket of ghastly silver mist the man walked into the cloud, leaving only dark shade in the distance.

Calling out to retain his attention The Spaniard stood following the wandering soldier into the bank. Fumbling at the boatswain around his neck The Spaniard blew a sweat-dampened whistle through the blanket. A moment later the call was returned a short distance away then broke off with a dull thump. Walking forward to the sound a shade of grey shook at the center of the dragons’ path. On the ground the soldier’s face was pressed to the floor with the cat’s jaws around the base of his neck. Shaking in his legs The Spaniard opened his mouth, but the air had vanished from his breath. The feline lifted its head looking to The Spaniard with two legs on top of the man’s back. Measuring each movement The Spaniard made, the gat de l’infern stepped off the lifeless soldier mirroring the movements in his muscles.

Holding his ground, the cat stepped to The Spaniard keeping its shoulders low and ears pinned backwards. Bloodstained teeth opened as the hellcat froze staring through The Spaniard’s soul. Breaking the standstill The Spaniard reached above the chest plate, pulling at the rosary-bead cross resting around his neck. Pine needles flew over the soldier as the devil’s cat charged. Silent sweeping bounds effortlessly over the ground while The Spaniard extended the beaded necklace out through his palm. Looking into the cat’s green eyes, “que déu ens guardi!” erupted from The Spaniard’s lips as he presented the cross in his hand. The animal slid over the needles to a stop then turned running back in the direction it came.

Captain de Vega and the crew ran out of the fog bearing witness to The Spaniard’s testament of God. Again repelling hell’s dominion with the power of Christ, the cat hovered over the soldier hissing at the crew. The gat de l’infern bowed over the soldier returning its jaws around his neck without breaking eye contact with The Spaniard. With crewmen filling in around The Spaniard Sacerdot del drac the monster turned dragging the man deeper into the forest. Staying close together the party returned to the chalupa, dragging it past a depression of matted pines where the soldier once stood.

With light returning to the cathedral the fog bank receded, burning off completely inside the dragons’ clearing. Placing down the chalupa under the drac del cor’s protection a fire was built inside a patch of saplings. Drawn circles over crosses were placed along the outer hull with sap and rubbed charcoal. Now beginning to look like the face of a drac on all sides the boat was placed upside down over a stump in the ground in front of the camp. Using the same tactic crew members drew circles and crosses over their clothing in pitch then rubbed dusted charcoal over their bodies. A rope was thrown into a tree, falling over a cluster of low-hanging branches. Pulling on the rope the lightest female crew member was lifted up the trunk until able to secure herself to a stable notch. The tribeswoman climbed high, reaching an opening eye level with the drac del cor. Pointing out over the tree tops the woman notified the crew of a wall in the distance confirming that the end was near.

Taking an entire day to assimilate protective symbols on any surface visible able to hold pitch, light inside the crystal ceiling faded once more.

During the night a bonfire was set in front of the chalupa. As expected the glowing yellow eyes in the tree line returned, circling the clearing’s edge looking for a way past the crosses. Foiled by the power of God the cats of Hell had been conquered. With the sound of a dying animal inside the forest, the eyes turned, vanishing from sight. Relieved from his watch, The Spaniard laid down on a woven palm mat and slept. Dawn came bringing foggy mist through the upper canopy. Making their move in light the chalupa was placed over the men’s backs as they entered the trees at the opposite side of the clearing.

By midday the trees had reduced in size. Webs stretched across the canopy down to the lower limbs leaving only small windows of the ceiling above. Far away from falling water the ground became a hard-packed earth covered in saplings and cobwebs. Spun cocoons of large prey immobilized by the giant spiders above lay mummified across the forest floor. Lower limbs of branches held animals suspended as ornaments in air. Passing limbs against the backs of crew members caused them to jump in fear of the arachnids lurking in burrows above.

Movement behind the trees caused the party to stop. Snapping limbs resonated forward as a two-legged dragon emerged from the shadows. Rushing into action The Spaniard Sacerdot del drac held his rosary beads high shouting, “que déu ens guardi!” The red dragon, covered in black-dotted lumps and a horned snout charged as the crew ducked under the overturned chalupa. Again The Spaniard summoned the strength of God and yelled, “que déu ens guardi!” at the demonic dragon. Unaffected by the power of the Lord, the creature lowered its shoulders and opened its mouth, running at The Spaniard. Breaking his stance The Spaniard ran through the trees followed by the drac vermell. Crossing between trees, The Spaniard weaved through the narrow gaps causing the animal to reroute its course. Looking back at the drac The Spaniard jumped over a fallen log hitting a wall of webs, failing to return to solid ground. Twisting with his feet suspended over the forest floor, the drac vermell approached The Spaniard with its head raised high. With each step the dragon collected silk strewn between the branches, pulling tight around its neck. The red dragon opened its mouth forcing its head down to The Spaniard slowly with great effort. Only three varas away the demon snapped down, digging into the ground with its legs trying to get closer to The Spaniard. Unable to control his momentum The Spaniard spun in a circle tantalizingly close to the dragon’s horned snout with an arm pinned against his face. With a final push the dragon’s snout bumped The Spaniard as the jaws clamped shut over the webs. Bouncing back and forth against scaled lips, The Spaniard felt the dragon’s hot breath as it shook its head. Snared by silk the drac vermell pulled backward as it struggled to remain upright. Taking The Spaniard with it the dragon lifted its head pulling his body flat over the ground as the silk hammock pulled apart.

Falling to the ground The Spaniard cut his strewn bonds, leaving the floundering dragon spinning in the center clearing. Unable to remove the entangled mass of silk accumulated over the dragon’s head and neck the beast fell, pulling branches on all sides downward. With only the head suspended in air the drac vermell lay on its side defeated. A spider in the trees descended down the silk ladder wrapping the dragon’s head. Following the dragon’s steps The Spaniard returned to the chalupa. Returning to the scene the crew looked at the drac vermell lying motionless with a spider resting its fangs on top of the dragon’s head. Seizing the opportunity crewmen rushed to the dragon’s tail, severing the end with an axe. Running away tail in hand the crew filed back to the chalupa, throwing the wiggling end into the hull. Picking the boat up on all sides the crew ran forward through the shrinking trees.

At last the forsaken pine labyrinth ended in tangled brush bushes overpowering saplings. A cracked wall rose up at the forest end transitioning to natural stone steps to the base. Fearing the wall offered no way through the crew climbed the step platforms probing the wall for passages. Directly below the crack a triangular rivet was cleared of loose rock blocking a clear path through. Standing around the gap The Spaniard waited as a member crossed the divide. Returning triumphantly the crewman spoke of a paradise directly behind the tunnel. Momentarily abandoning the chalupa the party squeezed through the passage into the cathedral’s central equator. Larger than any other chamber an endless valley of rolling hills blanketed the horizon.

Ancient palms and ferns sporadically grew in patches over the hills. Winged dragons dominated the skies by the hundreds of thousands, gliding overhead along the upper reaches of the walls and ceiling. Returning back to retrieve the chalupa a group of men hammered out seat boards, dismantling the vessel down to the frame. Piece by piece the boat was disassembled until only manageable sections small enough to fit through the gap remained. Although rebuilding the boat would be time-consuming, with a surplus of collected pine pitch and raw metal, master craftsmen in the company advised in favor of the material. For an entire day wood and supplies were pulled through the triangular gap leaving no resource left behind. The last The Spaniard saw of the pine-forest caldera was the green-eyed cat lying high above the ground on the outer platform’s edge licking its claws.

A pile of stones were placed in front of the opening and the crew moved out, carrying bound sections of the chalupa in a line. Afraid of being caught out in the open by a large predator, the company turned right following the closest wall into the valley. Much like rats in a kitchen with each Passover from the larger drac del cel, the crew scattered to any available cover. After multiple passes without conflict the crew lost fear of the giant winged dracs, keeping their distance and continuing their heading. Heat waves covered the ground in the distance creating mirages across the land. Moving closer to the enormous crystal cluster positioned on the caldera’s center ceiling, a beam of light shone down every day at midday as a beacon to follow.

Two days after entering the rolling-hilled paradise, a crewman spotted a female figure across the valley. Similar in size and shape from a distance the woman was recognized as a Dana-Blanca. Following in the direction she had traveled the crew mounted a hill looking down on an expansive civilization thriving among step pyramids. Soon after a group of the small women approached from the city’s outskirts. Much like the Dana-Blanca the women communicated in gestures. Shorter with a slightly darker pigmentation, the honey-blond-haired women shared many of the same physical features. Knowing little of the botifarreta, the crew was welcomed without hostility. Gravitating toward the women for interpretation, a brief gesture-based explanation of how they ended up inside the valley was carried out by The Spaniard’s wife.

A signal was given to follow the women into the city to be brought in front of the council. As expected the men were told to wait outside the largest pyramid while the women were brought inside. Less fortified than the Casa de Dana-Blanca the city’s inhabitants prioritized architecture opposed to defensive barriers. Wrapped around the cathedral ceiling’s largest crystal protrusion a ring had been built from stacked stone. Nearly a million of the Dana-Rosa gathered around the crystal chandelier, filling through walkways above a stone base far below. The scale was incomprehensible for the spectating crew members who watched from a bridge next to the pyramid. Inside the central pit intricate flower arrangements covered in vegetation had been placed over the floor. Stacked like a pyre, the light began to intensify, magnifying the center of the arrangements. Over the course of an hour the beam of light had grown, covering the lower platform inside the ring. With a final narrowing of the directed light the pyre ignited.

Heat from the beam caused The Spaniard to sweat. Knowing of the sacred burial rituals performed by the Dana-Blanca, the crew agreed that this must be a routine tribute amongst the Dana-Rosa. Mixed in with the crowd drac del cel seemed to be interacting with the Dana-Rosa, landing amid the walkways becoming surrounded and cleaned. Long after the radiant beam’s light faded the women returned wearing garlands of leafed flowers shaped into a crown. Accompanied by hundreds of the Dana-Rosa, the crew was led to a stacked-stone settlement outside the city’s chest-high wall.

Curious of the explorers in the dwindling light, Dana-Rosa continued to wander to the house, watching the Spanish build a fire and prepare sleeping mats. Within the stone walls of the settlement priority was given to the women to sleep inside. The fire continued to burn through the night surrounded by the crew and Dana-Rosa sharing food and items brought out from the city. A true paradise in an alien land, the following days were spent relocating into vacant settlements once occupied by deceased Dana-Rosa. With shortened lifespans brought on by genetic predisposition and no use for currency, the civilization revolved around ceremony and healing. Each night fallen members of the city were brought under the crystal chandelier’s stones covered in garlands to await the focused beam’s light.

Given a homestead near Captain de Vega The Spaniard and his wife began settling into life outside the city. Various dragons roamed the lands peacefully unhindered in their paths. The Drac cua Espinosa was a large four-legged dragon with plated sails running down its back and spiked tail. The drac maça was a heavily armored four-legged dragon with a bony club at the end of its tail. Both dragons were frequently seen wandering around the city’s outer perimeter, decorated in flowers and painted markings.

A week after arriving while The Spaniard was clearing the homestead of loose brush a drac del cel landed in the field nearby. Alone with the drac The Spaniard picked up his hammer holding his beaded-cross necklace, shouting, “que déu ens guardi!” as the dragon approached calmly. Looking into the dragon’s eyes the large wings folded along its sides while The Spaniard brandished his hammer. Moving closer to The Spaniard the dragon walked with small steps and hops supported by folded wings. Fingers extending from the middle of the dragon’s wings lifted off the ground, leaving the drac standing on two legs. Twice the size of The Spaniard, the drac del cel’s pointed beak turned looking to the beaded cross inside his hand. Reaching out with the long fingers the drac extended a hand out toward the necklace. In fear and confusion The Spaniard drew back his hammer swinging it toward the dragon. At The Spaniard’s sudden aggression the drac del cel flinched pulling its hand back holding its palm out in a human-would gesture for mercy. Stopping mid-swing, The Spaniard looked at the drac cowering in fear. A sudden realization of empathy within the dragon caused The Spaniard to pause.

Holding a finger toward The Spaniard’s beads the dragon pointed returning to its standing posture. The Spaniard held out the cross in front of him letting the dragon view the beads. Speaking to the dragon The Spaniard pointed at the necklace and the creature nodded. With one finger the drac del cel reached out slowly, tapping the cross hanging from The Spaniard’s hand causing it to swing in a circle. Seeing the dragon’s curiosity The Spaniard grabbed a gifted fruit from the homestead then returned, handing it over to the drac del cel. Gesturing in the same way the Dana-Rosa the dragon pointed to itself then pointed to the cliffs above then pointed at its eye and back at The Spaniard.

Shocked at what he was seeing The Spaniard began speaking to the dragon, questioning if it could understand his words. Pointing again at the beads, The Spaniard handed the necklace to the dragon who held it close to its face then handed it back. Lowering the crown of its pointed head the dragon tapped the side. Pausing for a moment The Spaniard walked up to the dragon placing the necklace over the point like a headband. Raising its head the dragon let out a vocalization, stepping from side to side in place. The Spaniard’s wife emerged from the shelter with her hands over her mouth. Smiling at her The Spaniard introduced his wife to the drac del cel as a servidor de déu.

Each day the dragon returned following The Spaniard on his daily routes to fetch water and food. Growing more comfortable in his presence The Spaniard began grooming the dragon in the way he tended to his mules. With interest from the crew of The Spaniard’s dragon companion a saddle was built, designed to fit over the pterosaur’s back comfortably. Fixed to the dragon in hide leather and rope, two months after arriving in the city The Spaniard mounted the dragon. Lifting off the ground effortlessly, the dragon rose into the air carrying The Spaniard fastened to its back. Watching the pyramids shrink the dragon’s powerful wings carried The Spaniard over the city, out to the forest beyond.

Making a circle around the crystal ceiling the dragon headed for the cliffs along the cathedral’s side. Stopping perched on a plateau hundreds of feet above the valley, The Spaniard sat on the dragon’s back sketching the land below. With a pat on the drac’s side the two dropped in a dive, leveling out in the updraft, returning to the exact location from where they had left. Shaking as he dismounted thousands of the Dana-Rosa had gathered bringing with them fruit and vegetables for the drac del cel.

Months passed by exploring the surrounding land, sketching maps of the caldera. Keeping a safe distance near the crystal ceiling trips had been prioritized over distant trips over the badlands. Lakes and pools holding giant drac d’Aigua were found far outside the city’s barrier forest. Past the lakes a salt and ash desert hugged the outer wall’s eastern quadrant. After an encounter with the drac del cel’s natural predator The Spaniard’s urge to fly had become limited. Winged dragons with crescent-shaped heads and ragged teeth stalked the caldera’s outer walls, waiting between cracks before launching aerial ambushes on other passing dracs. Unintelligent and instinctual the drac de l’empanada terrorized the skies, occasionally entering the cliffs overlooking the Casa de Dana-Rosa. As a defensive mechanism the tool-using drac del cel dropped rocks from above until the drac de l’empanada retreated.

Learning the land over a five-year period the crew of the Santa Isabel had become interwoven into the city. Maps collected throughout the years were studied in search of a way out. Although many of the crew did not want to leave the subterranean paradise, a decision was made to venture through an opening along the southern quadrant. With no further intel of what lay beyond the broken fissure, a scouting venture was organized to map the neighboring caldera.

With death an unavoidable constant, the loss of crew members through variable circumstances continued. The Spaniard’s drac Servidor failed to return a year prior leaving the company grounded with only the drawings collected. Soon after The Spaniard’s wife had become ill, fighting a fever with no identifiable cause, died in her bed. Two crewmen attempting to steal the young of a drac del cel had stones dropped from above leaving them missing in the valley. Bitten by an insect a sailor passed away leaving behind his wife and two children.

During the elapsed time a small group of settlers migrating from the Casa de Dana-Blanca settlement reunited with the Isabellines. Bringing with them news of the colony, an attack had taken place by the pursuing tribe. With the creation of the bell the sound had led the attackers to the settlement. Ambushed in the early-morning light the rival tribe fell after being overpowered by Dana-Blanca. Alongside the chief, tribal men and women left behind to defend the colony were greeted as old friends. Among the group the woman once thought to have perished inside the bird cave’s stick mound stood with scars covering her face and arms. After regaining consciousness the woman had climbed up the rope hours later; unwilling to make the drop she turned back, falling into the hands of the enemy. Two tribal women The Spaniard had never seen before were previously captured wives of the warriors slain in battle. Abandoning the enemy as they fell the women, both from different tribes, joined the colony willingly. The young colonist had left the Casa de Dana-Blanca after the council refused her son, banishing the child to live outside the city walls. The young mother introduced The Spaniard as “Pare.” Last of the Marquesans the dark-skinned native who sailed the Santa Isabel through the giant wave bore wounds of battle, but still remained smiling. Four mothers had chosen to remain inside the city; aside from the women all others had died in the fight or crossing the pine trail.

The bittersweet reunion carried on through the night by a central fire between homesteads. The Spaniard showed his wife and son to the stacked-stone shelter. Still covered in sap the young colonist and the boy slept peacefully for the first time since leaving the settlement. The returning crew spoke of their travels across the unforgiving coniferous land. The young colonist gave her account of how they followed the right-hand ledge beneath waterfalls down into the valley. Shadow cats had surrounded the group pulling others away, sparing their lives by the good grace of God. After making the trek to the end the party believed themselves to be trapped indefinitely, until seeing a cross inside a circle etched into the stone above a covered break in the wall. A prayer was spoken together as a family by The Spaniard, before making the short walk into the pyramid city’s springs.

After months of planning all able-bodied men convened around a table outside Captain de Vega’s homestead. With a sketched map of the central quadrant a route had been chosen through the heart of the forest. Taking time to establish a strategy for exploration into the neighboring chamber, the company settled on reaching the end before turning back. Seeing the forest from the sky, The Spaniard would lead in navigation until reaching the break between chambers. Down to the last of the survivors, if the party should fall any member left standing was ordered to reach the surface at all cost. Failure would ultimately result in their lives being forgotten in history, presumed lost at sea until proven otherwise.

Fear of the untamed wilds had never truly left The Spaniard’s heart; although forced into action more times than he could count life inside the cathedral had hardened his soul. Brave, strong and kind The Spaniard could not help but weep as he said goodbye to his wife and child. Setting off again into the trees, the final stand began. The chalupa now altered with added handles and a cross-eyed hull was picked up and moved from one clearing to the next. Through the forest The Spaniard followed his map, moving on the path of least resistance.

Without incident other than a drac de empanada dropping down from the skies onto the chalupa, the crew began the climb up a sea of fallen rock. Unlike the previous chambers the stones continued gradually upward for over a mile. High over the trees the crew looked back to the equatorial crystal-ceiling’s beacon of light, crossing into uncharted land. Across the broken wall’s opening, smooth sedimentary layers wrapped around the walls, raised higher than the massive chamber behind. The crew positioned a camp on the barren step formations covering the outer walls. Notably hotter and more humid than the grand chamber, the land became tropical in appearance. Jungles stretching endlessly forward flexed in passive hostility, ominously still in dying light.

A cluster of crystal veins along the ceiling glowed red then turned green as light left the cathedral. Within the hour condensation built up on the ceiling rained down over the jungle. Roars of dragons amplified across the cliffs in the dark of night; remembering their place inside the land, the fire was extinguished. Sitting high on their pedestal crew members took watch on the steps above while the next in line slept beneath the chalupa. At dawn the crew followed the cliffs above the tree tops. Turning with the wall the chamber opened, bulging out to the right further than one could see by the naked eye. Wrapping around on the opposite side of a stretch of dense canopy, the waving cliffs returned moving straight once more.

Looking to the cliffs across the jungle with Captain de Vega, The Spaniard voted to make the crossing. At the cliffs’ lowest step a drop of 7 varas stood between the jungle’s floor and stone-step platform. Without a solid hold the chalupa was lowered onto the ground. With two men left holding the rope above the crew regrouped on the rainforest’s floor. Ordered to rendezvous at the opposite wall after scouting the perimeter for exits the two men left moving further into the protruding fork. On the ground carnivorous flowers open like pails held water and drowned fauna. Men chopped at walls of heavy vegetation with axes and swords, fighting to move only a few steps forward. The thick jungle pushed heavily on all sides between vine-covered trees. Hours passed by cutting a path less than a mile to the opposite wall.

The Spaniard drenched in condensation fallen from the trees passed into a clearing at the jungle’s center. Wide-eyed mammals clung to a fruit tree refusing to move. Unafraid of human presence the small animals held fruit with rounded fingertips hugging the limbs of the tree. Walking up to one of the creatures The Spaniard put a hand toward the tiny mammal, who batted it away gently. Picking an apple-like fruit from the tree The Spaniard held it in his palm. The little creature jumped from the tree, climbing onto his shoulder, hugging his arm like the limb it had left. Men began collecting fruit; with it the tiny mammals began jumping onto crew members hugging their arms and refusing to let go. Some members holding up to four of the small lemuridae laughed as the creatures began continuously patting the backs of their hosts.

Now holding the entire family group tucked into their armpits, the crew stood around the chalupa tasting the sweet apple-shaped fruit. A sudden disturbance in the brush caused the animals to point in the direction from which it came. Captain Lope de Vega stood looking into the trees backing up closer to the chalupa. Hearing only dripping water onto leaves the rainforest had gone nearly silent. The lemuridae continued to point moving their arms back and forth poking the air at where the sound was heard. The crew remained still, looking to The Spaniard for guidance. Holding up a gold-covered cross made from whittled sticks, The Spaniard prepared himself. Crashing through the trees a green and red head broke through the vegetation. Shouting, “que déu ens guardi!” as the dragon toppled a wall of leaves and vines, The Spaniard stood covered in pointing lemuridae holding his cross. The words seemed to have no effect on the brightly colored dragon. Within a fraction of a second the drac descended on Captain de Vega, pinning him behind the chalupa with its tail sticking up in the air. The captain’s last command to the crew of the Santa Isabel was, “corre!”

Abandoning the chalupa the crew broke into a run hacking vines while sprinting. From above the trees the wall came into view. Breaking free from the rainforest’s grasp, The Spaniard pressed himself against the waving stone and began to climb. Crewmen and women began to emerge alongside The Spaniard still covered in lemuridae, placing their hands and feet into the waves, moving up the wall like a ladder. At the top, The Spaniard pulled himself over the edge helping others onto the step. Feeling the lemuridae continuously pat his back The Spaniard hung over the step with an outstretched arm. Last to arrive, one of the tribal women who had recently joined the company ran from the forest covered in five lemuridae. Struggling to climb the waving wall with the added weight, crew members above pointed at less difficult sections trying to communicate to the woman without words. Crying on the ground below, the woman continued to lose her grip, giving up hope that she would be able to make the climb. Climbing back down the waving wall, The Spaniard pulled a fruit from his satchel, coaxing the five lemuridae to jump onto his arms. Pressing the woman up the most tactical section of waves The Spaniard stood on the ground lifting with his hands under her foot. Free of the awkward weight distribution the woman climbed the last section, successfully summiting onto the platform above.

Now the last man left on the ground, the Spaniard’s arms had become heavy. All at once the lemuridae began pointing into the trees. Sweat on The Spaniard’s palms slid off the wall’s smooth surface, leaving him jumping for the notched rock that he used to climb before. With three lemuridae on his right arm and three on his left, The Spaniard’s mind began to race. Sensing impending danger The Spaniard jumped again, reaching out for the handhold and missed.

Landing back onto the ground an apple-shaped fruit fell from The Spaniard’s satchel. The six lemuridae looked down at the fruit in unison, following it with their eyes as it rolled down the wall’s base then onto the transitional sedimentary floor. One of the lemuridae jumped off The Spaniard’s back grabbing the fruit in a single leap then jumped back onto his shoulder. Prying the fruit from the lemuridae’s hand The Spaniard threw the fruit as the creature began tugging on his earlobe.

A crewman on the ledge reached out over the edge catching the tiny apple in midair. All at once the small creatures bounced off The Spaniard catching the wall’s edge then covered the crewman, patting him with one hand and pointing with the other. The Spaniard jumped up catching the handhold, pressing his feet against the wall and began to climb. The rainforest canopy broke into a vibrant green face with red markings running the course of the dragon’s body. Standing on two legs with short upper arms, the dragon paced below The Spaniard unable to reach him on the wall above.

The crew regrouped standing in a circle watching the opposite wall, debating on turning back or staying the course. As second in command The Spaniard gave everyone the option to leave. With only four in favor of abandoning the mission, the crew waited for the two men to return from their scout around the chamber’s extending segment. An hour had passed sitting on the wall’s platform step before movement on the opposite wall caught the attention of the lookouts. The two men were running back the way they had come, waving at the crew on the opposite side. Trying to make out what the two were saying one of the men pointed behind him. Two small men in the distance continued running back toward the bend. Blocked by the tree-line canopy a larger shape appeared on the cliff behind the men. A tan dragon running on two legs appeared from behind the trees; a moment later two more moved into view. Reaching the section of wall where the chalupa was lowered down, one of the men jumped over the edge disappearing in the trees while the other rounded the wall’s bend. Presumably running back to the Casa de Rosa the man could be seen with his back turned as the tan two-legged dragons pursued. Hearing distant cries coming from the steps confirmed the man had failed to evade the beasts.

Faced with the grim reality of traveling inside the dragon-infested rainforest, the crew remained positioned on the step waiting for the missing man to appear. After a day of holding close to the step’s edge, the decision was made to abandon the post. Four crewmen stayed behind, climbing over the lower step’s edge after the party moved out.

For four days The Spaniard walked with the remaining members until the outer steps tapered into volcanic sediment. A collapsed section of the wall opened to a crater crawling with caterpillars. Inside large sacks hung in every available opening, layered one on top of the other. Large butterflies poured from the cavern on the crew’s approach, fluttering into the jungle’s trees and landing over branches. Brightly haired caterpillars covered the men and women’s legs causing them to sting. Retreating in search of water the crew left the wall’s protective cover moving into the dense prehistoric forest.

Clouds of rising moisture rose up from the jungle’s center below the ceiling’s largest crystal. Drenched in constant dripping coming down from the chamber’s roof, The Spaniard’s hands withered as his nervous system reacted to the waterlogged landscape. Following a stream to its source, the crew broke through dense vegetation to a cut clearing. In the center a circular fortress made entirely out of the surrounding trees stood before the crew. Towers lifting from behind the walls formed an octagon stretching out around the circumference of the structure. Massive in size, the fortress walls wrapped around the clearing, patched with sheets of bark covering the foundations.

Hidden within trees the crew observed the structure looking for inhabitants guarding the building. Looking at the nearest tower The Spaniard saw a streak of green flipping from the highest ring. Minutes later a horn went out from inside the fortress. Knowingly outnumbered the Santa Isabel crew walked into the clear holding their hands in the air. Dressed in fibrous clothing given to them by the Dana-Rosa, metal armor and various amounts of lemuridae crew members moved to the fortress in surrender.

Two green heads poked over the making bubbling sounds with their mouths gesturing with fingerless limbs. A wave of surreal emotion swept over the crew; neither man nor dragon the beings were trying to communicate. Pointing at the clearing’s edge the two began pressing their hands together in a chomping motion. The bubbling continued as the two began frantically pointing at the clear. The Spaniard spoke trying to establish the reasons why the crew had arrived, glancing in the direction of where the two entities were pointing. The two green beings continued making the bubbling sounds putting their limbs on either side of their head in a state of panic. The lemuridae covering the explorers began to point at the tree line, turning the heads of the crew.

From the opposite side of the clearing a green and red papagayo drac had broken the tree line and was running for the crew. Pointing at the inside of the fortress, The Spaniard pleaded for the beings to let them inside. Understanding his request one of the entities ducked behind the barrier’s edge; a few seconds later a small patch of bark lifted along the base. At once the crew ran to the green figure lifting the patch, jumping inside and crawling forward. The Spaniard waited next to the giant green being, motioning to the others to hurry. A sailor with legs covered in lemuridae fought desperately to keep up. The dragon approached lowering its shoulders opening its mouth. In an instant the lemuridae jumped off the man landing on the horns above the dragon’s eyes. Now the only crew member left outside, the drac hit the man full force, sending him flying past the opening. The papagayo drac blinded by the lemuridae fell to the ground sliding on its stomach as the sailor rolled across the green grass. Rolling upright the sailor began crawling into a limping run towards the open bark panel. Standing the papagayo drac walked in a circle shaking its head, unable to remove the lemuridae poking at its eyes with shortened arms.

A flurry of wooden spears and stones bombarded the dragon’s midsection from above. Lemuridae began jumping to the fortress, leaving the drac spinning and snapping blindly at air. Pelted repeatedly by increasingly heavy stones the dragon fell to the ground. The Spaniard broke from the opening, placing himself under the sailor’s arm helping him over the fortress’s base. Boulders dropped onto the papagayo drac mortally wounding the beast until it moved no more.

Strange beings circled around the group looking at them in silence. The Spaniard fearing being eaten reached for his golden diamond- and gemstone-covered crucifix. Shouting “que déu ens guardi!” as he had so many times before, the crowd gasped. An identifiable female member of the dragon people slid forward. A head of shells resembled styled headdresses worn by the nobles; the green face had bright pink coloration on the cheeks and lips and other than the arms and legs resembled a female’s anatomy. Looking at The Spaniard in his shining armor as though she was about to eat him, the dragon woman made a bubbling purr that sounded like “Rrrruow.”

The crowd went wild walking to the crew and lifting them up on their shoulders. Drums began to beat and dragon women surrounded The Spaniard, touching his plate armor and swooning. Accepting the hero’s welcome the crew carried on with the festivities, happy to be alive. Almost as if someone had switched a lever the city began fornicating without inhibition. Accustomed to commonplace intercourse among the Dana-Blanca and Dana-Rosa the crew watched from the shoulders of the male dragonfolk as the city erupted into a frenzy. Giant males with eyes like dragonflies set the crew down on a raised platform in the center of the fortress. Seeing this as a ritual among the tribe the remaining crew emulated the act to prevent themselves from being eaten.

Given a wooden nest filled with flowers and leaves surrounded by woven branches the crew of the Santa Isabel sat in the middle unsure of the dragon people’s intent. Days passed by without conflict; otherwise indifferent, even mildly repulsed by members without metal armor, the crew gradually learned the dragonfolk had accepted them into the tribe. Each day the two green men from the wall returned to the nest, taking the crew members to help fortify barriers and tunnels in other sections of the city. Living with dragonfolk it was soon learned that their life consisted primarily of fortifying the fortress and fornicating. Very few trips were taken outside the city’s walls; instead the dragonfolk used fortified extensions that stretched across the outer lawn into the forest.

Becoming clear why the fortifications were necessary, attacks from papagayo dracs were a daily occurrence. The dragons probed the outer walls constantly searching for weakened sections along the barrier. Without warning the dragons would slam through walls, forcing their faces and bodies through the bark until the tribe could mobilize with stones. With help from the lemuridae and The Spaniard’s knowledge of dragons, the Isabellines began a life of slaying dragons.

Inside the fortress city, series of foldable walls boxing off breached sections of the exterior gave the feeling of being in a garden maze. At any moment the city’s layout would change, redirecting foot traffic to upper levels or outer edges of the settlement. When one dragon fell it would soon be replaced by another, an endless constant that carried on for months. After a year the crew had become seasoned dragon slayers, each sporting customary dragon-tooth necklaces worn by the warriors.

Running low on lemuridae, a cage with planted apple-fruit trees was built to rebuild the population. The strategy of blinding the dragons as they had before was riddled with errors. Being that the lemuridae didn’t always attack eyes as they hoped, a system had to be devised to prevent the creatures from ending up inside the dragons’ mouths. Throwing apple-fruit into the open mouths of dragons resulted in the lemuridae jumping inside and ultimately being swallowed after following the fruit down the throat. Using spears covered with apple-fruit paste caused lemuridae to jump to the affected dragon, holding on licking the paste while it rammed the barrier, carried them into the jungle, or were eaten by a second dragon. It seemed that the lemuridae only attacked when carriers of the apple-fruit were about to be eaten.

Testing this theory The Spaniard held two handfuls of apple-fruit; stepping outside the city’s walls, shouting, “que déu ens guardi!” at an oncoming dragon. From above a cage full of lemuridae was opened as the dragon turned. Ten lemuridae jumped down from the wall’s upper deck, hugging onto The Spaniard’s wrists and arms trying to pry the fruit from his hands. Only a few meters away the dragon opened its mouth, lowering its head, charging closer. At the last moment the lemuridae jumped from The Spaniard covering the papagayo drac’s eyes. Spinning like a matador The Spaniard dodged the beast now sliding forward on its stomach. Blinded by the poking lemuridae, the dragon stood in place while The Spaniard opened his palms revealing the apple-fruits. Jumping back to The Spaniard, the lemuridae hugged onto his arms grabbing the fruits. Running back through the open bark panel, The Spaniard was met with cheers, lifted up by dragonfolk warriors as the dragon-stoning began.

Life inside the colony had become a repeating cycle stationed around one central location. With the addition of an extending walkway into the jungle built for gathering building material, The Spaniard began exploring a safe zone outside the fortress. Dense trees shoulder-width apart stretched out for miles through the chamber’s center. Mapping a route with marked trees, each trip outside was spent following the line where the trees grew thickest. On one venture through the tree line The Spaniard had traveled nearly four miles from the fortress. Through the canopy a wall in the distance split from the ceiling to the floor. Small mountains at the chamber’s end sprang up across the valley and a large river could be seen flowing around the bend.

Free to leave at any time The Spaniard gathered crewmen willing to continue onward in search of a way out. Following a path of notched trunks The Spaniard guided crewmen to the protected hardwood forest’s end. Over the coming months rafts built from downed trees were laid out in a staging area in preparation for a venture through the river. Leaving behind two men and a woman tired of running the crew said their goodbyes to the dragonfolk. In the morning light crew members carried stacked rafts to the river’s edge climbing on in pairs of two.

Wider and more powerful than any river traveled thus far rafts began moving swiftly toward the center. Within minutes the crew had rounded the small mountain blocking the view of what lay behind. As far as the Spaniard could see piled rock covered the horizon. Winding forward spaced out across the water the Santa Isabel party moved on for miles passing into the rapidly changing land. Outside the rainforest belt, stones pressed out of the ground by the millions. Seeing nothing but rock and water the company reached the split wall cut down from the ceiling.

Fast-moving water pushed between two canyon walls towering like monoliths cut from solid stone. For hundreds of varas the rafts passed through the opening, dwarfed by the scale of the cut. Just as it began the walls ended, releasing the travelers into a darkened land glowing in luminescence. Trees with blooming purple flowers covered the shoreline flashing radiant yellow light. Flying insects strobed over the hills and water, landing on crew members as they passed. In the middle of the pack The Spaniard called for a stop, pressing his paddle under water steering for shore. Missing the cue two men at the head of the pack turned a rounded bend, traveling out of sight while the others moved to the bank.

Orange fungus and blue algae covered the purple-flower trees adding to the insects’ bright yellow flashes. On the ceiling above crystal veins glowed red giving off only enough light to illuminate the water’s surface. Caught in the dreamscape’s alluring lights crew members stepped onto shore, leaving trails of electric-blue footsteps. A sailor cut a giant flower from the tree, opening up the petals examining the hard column in the center. After an hour of scouting the interior shore The Spaniard called for camp to be set. Only seconds after the fire was lit a streak of dark grey shot across the ground leaping onto the sailor’s chest. A hairless body twisted at the man’s throat growling as he fought to contain the creature. Rushing over crew members began poking at the animal with their knives causing it to turn. Howling like a wolf the dog-like creature snapped with a muzzle of protruding teeth. Finishing off the dog-faced animal with a spear the chief held it up by the scruff of its neck. The sailor fighting to breathe lay on purple petals, taking his last breath on the glowing blue floor.

The four-legged animal dropped joeys from a pouch onto the ground at the chief’s feet. Small and hairless the joeys began to yap. From the opposite side of the river a yapping cry was answered with a howl carrying over the water. Running back to the rafts howls and yaps filled the hills along the opposite shoreline. The Spaniard entered the water looking through the purple-flower trees at flashing streaks of grey running down from the hills. Pushing out into the center the gossos de l’infern ran across the shoreline jumping into the water by the hundreds. Everywhere The Spaniard looked hell-hounds paddled toward him with jagged-mouthed heads poking above the surface. Flashing of the yellow on the water’s red surface illuminated carnivorous faces moving closer to the rafts. Wake from the volume of gossos de l’infern hit the long-log rafts in their approach. Pressing individuals down with his paddle, The Spaniard fought to stay upright above the waterline. Men late to launch rafts screamed in horror as the faces in the water swarmed the edges of the bound logs.

Making it around the river’s bend a vacant raft pulled onto the blue hillside sat idle surrounded by gossos de l’infern tearing at the missing crewmen on the ground. Leaving behind a third of its members, the company drifted away from the howling carnage of the gossos de l’infern. Shaking uncontrollably The Spaniard floated quietly in the river’s center with the survivors. For two days and nights the crew refused to set foot on the riverbanks.

Turning through miles of glowing forest the air began to grow cold. White hare-like animals covered in glowing blue algae began to appear in flattening fields along the water’s edge. Hungry and shivering the soaked crew pulled their rafts onto a lichen shore. Hare hidden among the moss and lichen beds sat motionless as crew members picked them up. Unsure of why the animals were completely docile when handled crewmen began filling a basket. Feeling safer among the field of hares a fire was lit and the crew slept. Watching the glowing blue and white hares move, The Spaniard noticed the animals took only one step forward after each bowel movement. The movements began to make sense after seeing large owls half the size of a man swoop down on the hares who moved.

Endless cycles of hares being lifted off the moss bed by owls continued to repeat. For two weeks the crew collected hares, using the fur and hide to make warmer clothing before continuing on. Pushing back into the river loaded with baskets of hare the Isabellines moved forward for three more days before the river broke between narrow rock formations. Dimly lit crystals on the ceiling cast a grey hue in the cold plains.

A new chamber had opened to an expansive prairie of yellow brush grass and boulders. Small patches of shrubs lined sections close to the crystal veins then ended as the veins thinned. Entering on foot through new land the crew walked for a day, setting up a camp between a stack of boulders. Lighting a fire to cook a hare, the crew huddled together for warmth. A horn called out from the center of the prairie bringing The Spaniard to his feet. What looked like boulders in the distance roamed closer, covered in brown hair with long white tusks and a hanging nose. Only ever seeing pictures in his master’s books The Spaniard recognized the creature as an elefante.

The next day more elefante appeared in the central prairie, forcing the Isabellines to hug the upper left corridor past the giant mammals. Soon the horns faded into distant echoes bouncing across the prairie’s walls. A member called out in distress pointing at hills behind. “Gat infernal” was the last thing The Spaniard heard before looking back at heavy-built cats with protruding upper teeth running across the open prairie.

One after another the last of the Santa Isabel’s crew were run down, pinned down by the pride and dragged away. The Spaniard ran alongside the youngest crewman and raft partner. Without anyone else in sight the two hid behind a boulder, leaving only open prairie in every direction. The Spaniard drew his cross holding it ready for an oncoming attack. Looking out from behind the boulder The Spaniard could see the pride lying in the prairie’s center surrounding the fallen crew.

Seeing an opportunity to run The Spaniard motioned for the young man to follow, turning his back to the boulder. A sweep of padded feet leaped over the boulder as the young man turned; in a blink of an eye the man was pounced on. The Spaniard turned to see a single lion holding onto the back of the young man’s neck. Crying The Spaniard spoke, “que déu ens guardi,” fighting to get the words out in fear. Now completely alone The Spaniard ran toward the cat of hell, who turned dragging the young man back over the boulders toward the pride. Running until he could no longer breathe The Spaniard reached an overhanging ceiling, falling to the ground panting.

A group of women closely resembling Dana-Rosa emerged from the cave’s interior, holding sharpened sticks wearing coverings of fur. Taller than the Dana-Rosa and Dana-Blanca the blond women approached The Spaniard with caution. Speaking with his hands The Spaniard motioned toward the opening of the cave toward the prairie. Using both hands the shape of a cat with fangs was made, causing the women to gasp. Taken to a village of hides wrapped around stones and bones women gathered bringing The Spaniard inside a communal hut. Everywhere The Spaniard looked eyes covered the outside of each hut and stretched hide.

Waking up the next morning The Spaniard walked to a group of women returning from the entrance. The young man The Spaniard had watched being pulled over the boulders lay on a bone-framed stretcher unconscious. Deep punctures on the back of his head had been covered in yellow grass, pressed in by a leathery wrapping. Days after arriving the young son of a colonist woke, telling The Spaniard he had fought back against the cat until it released him from its grasp. By following a trail of matted yellow grass he was able to locate the cave. Unable to fully turn his head the young man lay in the communal hut as The Spaniard showed the tribe how to start a fire using a flint and steel. Dried patties collected from passing over centuries of elefante were used as tinder to fuel the flame. Never knowing the warmth of fire women gathered taking turns feeling the flame.

Days turned to months and soon months turned to years, living amongst what The Spaniard called “Isabelline.” Now at the cathedral’s end with nowhere else to go the cave became The Spaniard’s home. The young man survived for two more years before disappearing near the cave’s outer perimeter’s opening. Over the years the two men’s genetic makeup had been passed down through multiple generations. The once only blond females now were mixed with brown- and black-haired males and females. Seeing the population transform over the next forty years The Spaniard lived comfortably with his family. While out scavenging alone The Spaniard was ambushed by a gat de l’infern hiding in the shadows, dying at the age of 70.

The Spaniard, a father of over 1,700 children through out his lifetime inside the cathedral remains hidden below the Pacific Ocean. Still to this day genetic lineage passed down from the Santa Isabel’s crew live on throughout the prehistoric subterranean world. Etched into a stone wall; a memorial written by The Spaniard commemorating the men and women of the Santa Isabel sits as a testament lost in time. Once forgotten by history the story of the Isabellines lives on; answering the age old question of what truly happened to the Santa Ysabel.