The Pale Meridian
The boiler screamed. It was a sound like a dying whale. It tore the silence of the engine room. Captain Elias Thorne gripped the railing. His knuckles turned white. The iron was cold. It bit into his skin. He did not let go. The *HMS Persephone* shook. Plates of steel groaned. Rivets popped. Steam hissed from a crack in the main shaft. The water was rising. It was black. It was cold. It smelled...
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