Chapter 1 – The Lost Continent begins with the Coldwater slicing through the sky on its eastward course, held aloft by its buoyancy screen. We knew her exact speed, steady and unwavering, and it wasn’t long before we saw her silhouette briefly painted against the last light of the setting sun. She vanished quickly beyond the horizon, and with her went our immediate connection to safety, leaving us only with hope and a desperate need to signal her back.

With no conventional tools at our disposal, we searched the shoreline for sticks and leaves to build a fire, hoping to generate enough smoke or flame to catch the attention of our airborne ship. Though the idea was simple, the act proved difficult. The area was scarce in fuel, and time slipped away faster than we could gather the necessary kindling. We pressed on, determined to signal the Coldwater before she vanished completely from range. The sun had dipped below the edge of the world, and our chances grew slim. But abandoning the effort wasn’t an option, not while rescue was still possible.

In our urgency, one of the crew suggested a more direct solution: using one of the mortars mounted on the Coldwater. The ship, like others of her kind, had been equipped with automatic ordnance that even a child could fire. All that remained was finding a way to access the remaining ammunition and trigger a launch. I recalled how the powder magazines were designed to avoid accidental detonation, placed beneath the waterline and constructed with fire-resistant fasbestos. Ironically, it was this very design—once intended for safety—that now posed a barrier, as the intense fire had forced us off the ship, cutting us off from immediate use of its weaponry.

After the fire was extinguished, the crew ventured cautiously into the lower decks. We had feared that the heat, combined with water ingress, would set off the remaining explosives. But as fate would have it, the flooding had doused the powder instead. The flames consumed most of the interior, yet the submerged powder magazines, spared by the timing of the deluge, remained intact. The deck, now level with the sea, made movement treacherous, but our persistence was rewarded. A small cache of ammunition for the ship’s small-arms had survived.

We worked swiftly to extract the necessary rounds and scavenge for a mortar tube, which could be operated manually. The Coldwater was barely afloat, her hull breached in several places, and the next wave might be her last. The steel covers of the magazines had been unhinged in the early panic, and saltwater had rushed in, soaking everything and turning the corridors below into submerged tombs. It was only a matter of time before she sank entirely. The need to act was more urgent than ever.

Amidst the chaos, a strange calm set in. The fire, though devastating, had not claimed all. That which had nearly doomed us had ironically preserved the very tools we now hoped would save us. This reversal of fortune fueled our determination. We fitted one of the mortars and primed it for discharge. With fingers crossed and breath held, we aimed skyward and fired the round, hoping it would arc high enough to be noticed by anyone watching from above.

The sound echoed across the water, a deep boom that shattered the stillness and reminded us of our fragile place in the vast unknown. Smoke billowed from the mortar, drifting into the sky as we prayed for a sign that it had been seen. Minutes passed, stretched into eternities by our anxiety. The horizon remained unchanged, but hope held firm.

That night, huddled on the cold remnants of the ship, we watched the stars emerge one by one. No rescue came, but our resolve did not waver. We were stranded, yes, but not defeated. Somewhere to the east, the Coldwater continued her course, unaware perhaps of those she left behind. Yet with the mortar fired and a signal sent, the possibility of return lingered like the last ember in a fading fire.

In this opening chapter, we confront the duality of nature and technology—the way destruction and salvation often come hand in hand. The Coldwater, both our betrayer and our hope, leaves us suspended between ruin and rescue. As we look toward the silent sea, the journey ahead promises danger, discovery, and the enduring test of human spirit in the face of the forgotten world that lies beyond.