"What do we do?" Julian asked under his breath, heart pounding as the man holding a bow directed his weapon towards them.
His eyes flicked toward Michael, waiting for their leader's call.
"Nothing, kid," Michael said grimly.
"We turn ourselves in. It's either that... or get torn apart by the shark out there."
Without hesitation, he stepped forward, hands raised high.
Julian followed, stiff with tension.
Charlie and Geo trailed behind, moving cautiously.
The armed group remained still, weapons trained carefully on them — spears, bows, and even a crude but deadly-looking homemade gun.
One figure stepped forward — a girl, maybe Julian's age, but already carrying the air of a seasoned survivor who removed her helmet to have a clear view of the survivors.
She was striking — long light brown hair, skin tanned from years outdoors, and sharp green eyes that missed nothing and a great figure.
There was youth in her face, but experience in the way she moved.
"Only four of you?" she said, voice cool and commanding.
"And all guys, too. Figures."
She studied them for a moment, her eyes lingering on each of their faces.
"Start talking. What are you doing here? How did you get here?"
Michael spoke carefully, his voice steady but respectful.
"We were flying normally when the engines failed. Our aircraft went down not far from here.
We bailed and parachuted to land. Beyond that, we don't know anything about this place — not even where 'here' is."
He kept his hands up, careful not to make any sudden moves.
The girl listened silently, her gaze hard to read.
At last, she exhaled through her nose and muttered:
"Not much to extract, then."
She glanced toward the distant ocean, scowling.
"The Megalo's going to be hanging around this island for a week at least," she said, almost to herself.
"We'll have to bring in the Big Girl... try to scare him off and salvage anything worth saving from your wreck."
At her signal, the warriors lowered their weapons, though they kept their eyes wary.
The girl sat down onto a nearby rock, casual but alert.
Julian stood frozen, brain spinning.
Megalo? Big Girl?
Who the hell were these people? And what had they just stumbled into?
"What have you found so far?" the girl asked, pulling out a water jug as the men around her casually moved through the camp, scanning and checking the surroundings.
"Nothing much," Michael answered, lifting the bundle of roots they had gathered.
"We barely started exploring — found these plants, looks like yucca. We were about to heat them up."
He held the roots out, waiting for her reaction.
The girl — still wary — gave a small shake of her head.
"Put those down," she said bluntly.
"They'll give you a few good runs before killing you through dehydration. Not worth it."
She reached into a pouch and pulled out a small pack, tossing a handful of what seemed like cookies toward the group.
"Sorry," she said, without a hint of real apology, "but I don't know you well enough to hand them over personally. Eat those for now — we'll sort things out later."
Julian caught one of the packages and stared at it like it was a gold bar.
Actual, processed food — something from civilization.
The girl sat back down on the rock, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"Name's Emma Blake," she said.
"Daughter of the leader of the Sixth Enclave."
She let that sink in for a moment — her posture, her calm authority making a lot more sense now.
"We'll be bringing in a team to recover your shipwreck. If you stay and help, you're welcome to come back with us to our base."
Before anyone could answer, she pulled out a battered walkie-talkie and pressed the call button.
"Code 4261," she said into the device.
"Requesting Debra — gate size ten, enough space for her to fit. We've got a Megalo lingering. Notify me when the shipment arrives."
The radio crackled softly in reply — some code was giving in response — and then went silent.
Emma clipped the device back to her belt and stood, brushing the dust off her pants before she got up.
Julian watched her, a thousand questions clawing at his mind.
Sixth Enclave? Shipment? Debra? Megalo?
What kind of place had they landed in?
And more importantly —
What the hell was coming through that gate?
"At least you made a decent place to stay," Emma said, dusting off her hands.
"Maybe after we bring in supplies we can relax here for a while. Then again..." She frowned, glancing toward the trees.
"Since you arrived a few hours ago the rogues will probably storm the place soon. So there is no time to waste."
She turned, barking new orders to her team.
"Start setting the arrays! Make sure they're deep enough for Debra to swim through!"
Two members of her group sprinted into action, pressing buttons on their shoes.
With a faint mechanical hum, their boots extended outward, transforming into wide, ski skates that helped them stay afloat.
Without hesitation, they skimmed across the water, gliding a few meters out from shore.
There, they planted two thin batons upright in the shallows.
Within moments, the batons activated — and a shimmer spread between them like heat off pavement.
Julian and the others watched in stunned silence.
"What are they doing?" Charlie muttered.
Before anyone could answer, the shimmer twisted — and with a soft thoom, a doorway appeared across the water, as if someone had thrown open a massive, invisible garage door.
Through the portal, another world was visible — a strange, submerged landscape, foreign and impossibly deep.
Julian gulped hard, his mind whirling.
Were they crazy? Was he dreaming?
Had he stumbled into some hallucinogenic plants in the jungle?
Then something moved on the other side.
A massive shape, dark and heavy, approaching the threshold.
The water bulged.
And then — it emerged.
A creature the size of a bus slithered through the open gate, crashing into the island's waters with a tidal roar.
Its body was massive and scaly, like a monstrous lizard — thick with muscle, lined with jagged ridges.
"A dinosaur?!" Charlie gasped, staggering backward.
Emma barely glanced at it, casual as anything.
"A Deinosuchus," she said.
"My father's best creature for situations like this. She'll keep the Megalo busy — at least long enough for us to salvage your wreck."
She zipped her jacket and gave new commands without hesitation.
"Divers, get ready! Collect everything we can before the monster circles back!"
Her team activated devices on their suits — sleek helmets snapping into place, covering their heads with transparent shields.
Without hesitation, the divers rushed toward the water, disappearing beneath the surface.
Julian, Michael, Geo, and Charlie stood frozen, jaws slack, as the impossible unfolded in front of them.
None of them could speak.
There were no words left.
"So... what do we do?" Charlie asked, scratching awkwardly at his hair.
"We stay put," Michael said, eyes narrowed.
"We need to figure out what the hell is going on here before we move."
He moved closer to the shoreline, observing the newcomers at work.
Three of Emma's people floated across the water on their specialized shoes, positioning themselves in a precise triangular formation above the crash site.
Meanwhile, the others had dived below, disappearing even with the massive Deinosuchus nearby — seemingly unafraid of the creature, as if it was perfectly tamed.
Within minutes, the water shifted.
The three above the surface tightened their formation, and below, large sections of the plane began to rise, pulled upward by unseen forces.
"What in the world...?" Geo muttered.
"How are three people lifting a plane like that? Without even struggling?"
Julian said nothing, jaw clenched as he watched the wreckage, dripping with seawater, float upward and drift slowly toward the shimmering portal.
Piece by piece, the aircraft — water and all — was swallowed by the gate.
Minutes later, the six workers, along with Emma who went in to help, returned to the beach, water dripping from their suits but expressions calm.
"We got lucky," Emma announced, peeling off her helmet and shaking out her damp hair.
"The plane's been recovered intact.
Give us some time, and it'll be restored — good as new."
She stripped the gear off quickly and efficiently, revealing her slim, athletic build beneath.
Julian found himself gulping and quickly forced his eyes elsewhere, heat crawling up his neck.
Michael crossed his arms, a flicker of sadness in his eyes.
"I take it... it's not going to be my plane anymore?" he asked quietly.
"Correct," Emma said without hesitation.
"But you can be its pilot once it's repaired. We don't have many who can fly those old models anyway."
She tied her hair back into a loose knot, ready for whatever came next.
Michael's brow furrowed.
"Old model?" he echoed, frustrated.
"That plane's barely three years old. It's not like it's a relic!"
Emma laughed lightly, almost pityingly.
"Gramps, relax. Didn't mean it as an insult. It's just — for some of us, anything from your time is basically ancient history. You're stuck in a place which time doesn't move with the outside world.
Timeless zone, you could say."
Michael opened his mouth to argue — but stopped, the weight of her words sinking in.
"Forget it," Emma said, waving it off.
"Gather your stuff. We need to move before the rogues or pirates show up."
With a sharp whistle, she signaled one of her people, who immediately began setting up another, smaller gate.
Meanwhile, the massive Deinosuchus — Debra — was calmly guided back through the larger portal, vanishing with a low splash and a distorted shimmer of air.
The strange "doorways" rippled once, then sealed shut, leaving only silence — and the deep unease settling heavier on Julian's shoulders.