She glanced at the monitors, at the unusual energy signatures, and then back at the water spirits outside. Something in her professional skepticism seemed to be wavering.

“There’s an emergency airlock,” she said slowly, “designed for sample retrieval or emergency egress in a pressurized suit. But it’s not meant for…”

“Let me try,” I interrupted.

She looked at me for a long moment, weighing the risks, the impossibility, against the strange circumstances we were in.

Finally, she sighed. “Alright,” she said, her voice low. “But I can’t take responsibility for what happens.”

“I understand,” I said.

The airlock was a small compartment, barely big enough for one person. I took the fused sculpture and the mountain sculpture with me, placing them carefully inside the compartment.

I took a deep breath and stepped into the airlock. The door sealed behind me with a heavy clang.

Inside the airlock, it was cold and dark. I was completely alone, separated from the safety of the submersible by a single metal door and tons of crushing water pressure.