Bermuda Triangle Research Station – One Day Before Ethan's 16th Birthday
The coin landed on the weather-beaten dock with a sound like a gunshot.
"Heads," Luca Sol called from the boat, not even glancing up from his instruments.
Ethan crouched to check. Tails. Again.
"You're cheating," he shouted over the wind. The coin burned against his palm—too warm for the storm-chilled night.
Luca finally looked up, the green glow of his sonar screen painting his face ghostly. "It doesn't cheat," he said, voice cutting through the thunder. "It just understands the Triangle better than we do."
Ethan pocketed the coin, its edges biting into his fingers. He hated when his father talked like that—like the swirling waters beyond their research station were alive.
"Come aboard," Luca said. "I want to show you something."
Research Vessel "Aeolus"
A proximity alarm blared. Luca silenced it with a slap. "Look."
Ahead, the storm changed. Rain veered sideways in perfect geometric patterns. The waves folded rather than crashed, their troughs revealing glimpses of violet light.
Luca pressed the coin back into Ethan's hand. His fingers were shaking. "When you're lost, flip it. It'll show you the way home."
The engines screamed. The boat lurched—
—and Luca stepped onto the glowing violet water, twenty meters out.
"Dad!"
Luca turned. For a heartbeat, his outline flickered gold. Then he smiled, just as the clock struck midnight.
"Happy birthday, kid."
The light swallowed him whole.
The coin seared Ethan's palm as the radio crackled:
"Ethan Sol. Flip the coin."