John T. gasped for air. For a moment he wondered why he was floundering in icy water. Then it all came to him. His plane had crashed, and now he was stranded and would probably die. Cheery notion.
He swam away from the wreckage instinctively as the cold numbed his fingers and mind, draining his stamina. He was just about to give up and drown when a steady light appeared. Mustering the last of his strength, John swam forward.
To his surprise, it was a lighthouse with stone stairs dipping into the water. John quickly clambered up the steps and into the lighthouse. The terror of the wreckage died away and for a while John just stood there, dripping on the lush carpet. Finally he headed forward into the lighthouse, following a flight of stairs to an elevator. Not knowing what else to do, he entered and pressed the single black button.
The doors slid shut and the elevator sank. John searched for a way to bring the elevator back up, beginning to panic when suddenly a window appeared in the door. Before him, built on a reef, was an underwater city. Amphibious creatures swam between buildings and walkways as, inside, people went about their business. John could only gawk in amazement. How could such a place exist?
“The elevator’s coming down, Angel.”
John whirled around as another voice spoke, a woman’s. “Does it have a shadow?”
The voices came from a radio lying on the floor. “Yep, and it’s a big one.”
“Dangit. Sound the alarm, Blake. And tell Tom to help out whoever’s in the elevator.”
John was baffled. What were they talking about? Who were they?
He lost his train of thought when the elevator gently bumped something and watched as the doors slowly opened. It was dark in the room beyond, and John didn’t have the courage required to step into that inky blackness.
“ick up the radio, whoever you are.”
John almost had a heart attack. He sighed and picked up the radio. “My name’s John.”
“Tom Jackson,” the deep voice replied. “Wish we could meet in person, but I’m afraid the other guests had another idea. You’ll need to get out of the elevator.”
John glanced at the shadows. A shiver ran down his spine, one that had nothing to do with wet clothes. “It’s pitch black.”
“Oh, hang on.” Tom was silent for a moment and a floodlight flickered on. “There.”
John took a deep breath and stepped out of the elevator. The room was wide and plain, with a couple thick glass panes in the wall and a desk in the corner. “Where am I?”
“You’re in the docks. See if you can find a wrench or something at Blake’s desk.”
There were scattered papers, a faded photograph, and a crowbar. “Will a crowbar work?”
“Yep. Head through the hall and you’ll find the lobby. Hurry, you might get overrun in a minute.”
“Overrun by what?”
“Just move!” Tom ordered.
John rolled his eyes and dashed through the hall, stopping at the end to catch his breath, which was instantly taken away when he saw the next room. The glass ceiling was miles above his head, and light from beyond the water lit the room beautifully. Bushes and flowers were growing along marble paths that lead across the room. A statue stood in the middle of the room, depicting a tall man in overalls standing beside a woman wearing a lab coat. A small plaque read “the Founders of Mystique”.
Tom’s voice came over the radio. “Head on through the lobby.”
John gaped. “This is a lobby?!”
“Yeah, hurry up.”
John headed along the paths, gaping at the abundant flowers. Too soon he had reached the end of the hallway and faced three doors.
“Take the left…no, the mid…hang on.” John heard a click and the sounds of a fire blared from the tiny device. “Angel!”
The woman’s voice, irritated. “I’m a little busy!”
“Which one of the doors in the lobby has a trap?”
“All three of them.”
Tom sighed. “Great. That means the newbie’s stuck in the lobby.”
“Big deal…whoa.”
“What?”
Something crashed and John jumped, looking around until he realized it must have been on the other end of the radio link. The woman’s voice was now frantic. “Atlas!”
There was a click and the noise vanished. Tom muttered darkly.
“So what do I do?” The second John spoke, everything went dark. He pressed himself against the glass wall and heard something growl. “What was-”
“Hush,” Tom hissed. “Lie down, pretend you’re dead, and whatever you do, don’t make a sound.”
John decided not to ask questions and obeyed. Thundering footsteps shook the floor and he held his breath as the shadows seemed to move. Inhuman sounds arose from the dark masses and the stench of decay hung heavily in the air. Something yelped, John thought he saw a spark of electricity, and the steps began to fade, taking the darkness with them.
Tom whistled, making John jump. “That was close. Have to talk to Angel about those traps.”
“What just happened?” John asked.
“Go through the left door.”
“Can you tell me what happened?” John demanded.
Tom sighed. “Listen, I know you probably feel like the unluckiest guy on earth right now, but I have a friend that’s trapped in the west wing apartments. I can’t reach her from here. It’s a big thing to ask of you, but could you please help?”
John thought for a moment. “Alright, but you have to tell me what’s going on.”
“Head through the left door. You arrived just in time for a raid. The Lead like to pop in every few months to terrorize us.”
“What’s a Lead?” John asked, walking down the hallway.
“Look out!”
He turned around and stared at the misshapen monster that had snuck up on him. “What is that thing?!”
“Must have come in late,” Tom muttered.
“What do I do?” John demanded, dodging a strike.
“Hit it with the crowbar!”
John had forgotten that he was carrying it and swung the metal tool at the monster, grimacing as the head flew away and the body crumpled.
“Good job, John,” Tom congratulated. “You’ve killed your first Lead.”
John nudged the corpse-like creature with his shoe. “Gross.”
“Here comes more, get ready!”
He suddenly found himself surrounded by Lead. He took his crowbar in hand like a baseball bat and started bashing his way through.
“Watch out, another one behind you!” Tom called out. John spun round and felt a flash of pain in his arm as he bashed the Lead.
“You alright, John?”
“I think so.” John wrapped his torn sleeve around the cut. “Should hold till I find a medpack.”
“Alright, go through that door.”
John followed the directions and stepped onto a balcony. On the landing below, several Lead were milling around like cows. “What are they doing?”
“Waiting for someone stupid enough to run at them.”
“What do I do?”
“There should be a can of kerosene nearby, Angel’s been leaving them everywhere. See if you can find one.”
John looked around. “No, it doesn’t look like ther- wait! I see it!” The can was below, sitting on a bookshelf near the cluster of Lead.
“our it over the Lead.”
John frowned. “What’s that gonna-”
“Just do it,” Tom directed.
John thought for a long time. How was he going to be able to pour the kerosene over the Lead without going down there? There might be something he could throw, but John doubted that a shard of glass or piece of wood could do the job. He could use the crowbar, but that would leave him defenseless. And how was he going to throw a solid chunk of metal across the room?
He heaved a sigh and hefted his crowbar. “Here goes.” He threw the crowbar as hard as he could and watched as it hit the bottom of the bookshelf. The bookshelf rattled and the Lead crowded around it, barking and hissing like a bunch of animals. The can toppled over, its contents spilling all over the Lead. John smiled triumphantly. “That works.”
Something swept down from the ceiling, moving too fast for John to see it. There was a small spark and the Lead burst into flames. Tom sounded relieved. “Thanks for the help, John.”
“You’re welcome. Do you know where a medpack is?”
“Yeah, should be one in a case on the wall.”
John spotted the white container attached to the wall and quickly opened it. Taking the small needle inside, he injected the fluid into his wrist. The strangest sensation ran down his arm, like he was being electrocuted. Pain rushed through him and he tumbled over the balcony.

John woke slowly, seeing only swirls of color. After a moment his vision solidified and someone was standing over him. He pushed the person away with a yelp.
“Oh, shut up! I'm not trying to kill you!”
He looked frantically at the room. He guessed that he was in a hospital room, due to all the medpacks and surgical utensils. A woman stood in front of him, arms folded in defiance. She wore a slim black leather jacket that went down to her knees and black boots. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her hazel eyes flashed with annoyance. “I'm not your enemy.”
John gazed at her with a mixture of distrust and confusion. “How do I know you're not lying?”
“Your enemy is called Lead. Lead are mutant creatures, basically walking corpses. Your allies are us normal people, or as normal as anyone can be here. Now do I look like a Lead?”
A door opened and a tall black man in military fatigues entered the room, a wry smile on his face. “Be nice to him, Angel.”
“Why? He a friend of yours?”
“I know him by his voice. Glad to finally meet you. I'm Tom and this is Angel.”
John shook his hand. “John T.”
“What's the ‘T’ stand for, trouble?” Angel asked.
Tom shook his head. “Sorry about her. She's on edge.”
“You would be too if your apartment had been destroyed by the rear of a plane!” Angel snapped, stomping to the door.
John stared. “You have a tail!”
Angel looked back at a scaly black tail trailing behind her. “Oh, you noticed?”
“Angel,” Tom chided.
“It's really not that hard to see,” she continued. “Besides, it isn’t your right to point fingers. You've got a hand that looks like an electrical wire mess.”
John looked at his left hand and yelped again. Electricity coursed down his arm, lighting up the veins, and sparks flitted between his fingers.
Tom rolled his eyes. “You're hopeless.”
“Good,” Angel replied, opening the door. “Do you want to see the city, John Trouble?”
John ignored that. “Sure.”
She grinned. “You better put some clothes on, then.”
John realized that the only thing protecting his modesty was a blanket at his waist. He quickly pulled it up to his chest, blushing furiously. Angel laughed as she left.
Tom sighed. “Sorry. She’s not usually like that.”
“You mean there’s a nice side to her?”
He frowned. “Maybe I should rephrase that.”
John smiled ruefully. “Are there some clothes I could borrow?”
“Yep. Here’s some clothes.” Tom turned his back to give him privacy.
“So how come my hand’s a lightning rod?” John wondered.
“You used a biopack. Also,” Tom held out a crowbar. “Might want to keep it close by.”
John slipped the crowbar into the utility loop on his pants. Tom grinned. “C’mon.”
John followed Tom out of the room and down the hall to a small enclosure where Angel was waiting for them. “You clean up nice. Hurry up.”
“Where are we going?” John asked.
“To help the cleaning crew,” Angel replied, and led the men to a view of the underwater metropolis.
“What is this place?”
“Welcome to Mystique, John.”