The Plane Crash

And just like that, I was dropped directly into the sea, surrounded by the burning wreckage of a plane.

The cold bite of the sea hit me like a shock to the system, my body twisting in the water as I tried to get my bearings. I had no idea which way was up or down; everything was disorienting. I barely processed the sinking hulk of metal passing by me—a plane, my mind registered dimly. It was surreal, too surreal. I wasn't supposed to start in the middle of a crash.

I clenched my teeth. Focus, Taylor. You can freak out later.

Thank God I had my rebreather. My bugs were drowning, their tiny lives snuffed out in an instant. But I didn’t have time to care about them—I needed to survive. I kicked hard, trying to figure out where the surface was. My legs burned, muscles screaming from the shock of sudden exertion, but after what felt like an eternity, I broke through the surface, gasping for air out of sheer reflex, even though I didn’t need it with the mask.

My first view of the world above water was pure chaos. Flames reflected off the waves, casting an eerie glow that danced with the shadows of the wreckage. Twisted metal, shredded seats, and floating debris bobbed all around me. My heart hammered in my chest, the reality of the situation setting in. There was no time to waste. I had to move.

A lighthouse stood off in the distance, the only landmark. It was close, thank God for that, but the fire and wreckage littered the way. Swimming fast was my only option.

I kicked through the water, pushing forward with everything I had, dodging debris and avoiding the fires. My body screamed at me to slow down, but I couldn't. I wouldn't. And then, BOOM. An explosion rocked the air, shaking the water like a shockwave. Something had blown apart behind me, and the impact knocked me off course for a moment, water splashing over my head as I struggled to right myself.

I didn’t dare look back.

Swim faster, Taylor. Just keep swimming.

The lighthouse loomed larger, a dark silhouette against the backdrop of orange flames and black smoke. My breath came in sharp, ragged gasps, even though the rebreather should have kept me steady. Adrenaline was ripping through my veins, making everything sharper, more intense. I practically collapsed onto the stone platform at the base of the lighthouse, chest heaving as I dragged myself onto the solid ground. My entire body felt like it had been through a meat grinder—muscles twitching, hands shaking. For a few seconds, all I could do was lie there, staring up at the night sky, trying to catch my breath.

I made it. I made it.

I rolled onto my back, staring up at the night sky for a moment, the cool sea breeze hitting my face as I tried to calm myself down. Flames crackled behind me, the wreckage of the plane still burning. Eventually getting back on my feet, I began making my way up the stairs, casually taking control of all the bugs in range. What little I could feel of them confirmed there wasn’t much life on this tiny island. The path was lit by electric lanterns. All around the base were the burning remains of the plane, the tail of which is still sinking into the water. The lighthouse was massive, towering over me. At the top, I stood before a set of large golden doors. It was already open, revealing a dark interior.

There didn't seem to be anyone inside, from what my ears and bugs could tell.

Stepping inside—the door immediately slammed shut behind me. I nearly sent my swarm out on instinct but held them back as the lights came on.

The sight before me was... bizarre. A massive golden bust of a man hung from the wall in the center of the room, with a banner that read, "No Gods or Kings. Only Man." Below it, a plaque quoted him: "In what country is there a place for people like me?" — Andrew Ryan.

Huh. That certainly explained... nothing.

Continuing along, the only way forward was down a set of stairs. The whole place had this sort of art deco style to it. But there wasn't much else to see. At the bottom of the stairs was a large room with... a large sphere. I... think it's supposed to be a submarine? It was sat in a small pool of water and its front was open. The inside was surprisingly nice looking, with a wooden floor and velvet covered seats.

And a lever inside.

Guess I know what I'm supposed to do. Stepping inside, and making sure to bring along as much of my swarm as possible, I brace myself and pull the lever. The hatch closes, leaving a large glass window to see the outside world... and lets me see the submarine is descending into the water inside a tunnel with statues and indicators saying how many fathoms below we are. At least, I could until a metal plating went over the glass and a literal 80s style advertisement started playing.

Seriously?

It only lasted a moment before changing to a monologue,

"I am Andrew Ryan, and I'm here to ask you a question. Is a man not entitled to the sweat of his brow?"

It took me about two seconds before I was barely paying attention to his speech. He was talking to the absolute worst crowd. My mom was a feminist and my dad was a union man. I just stood there until the submarine opened its window, revealing the skyline of Rapture—a city beneath the waves.

Holy shit.

It was breathtaking in a way I hadn’t expected. Skyscrapers, entire streets, all submerged, illuminated by dim lights and—was that a whale? I gawked at the sight, momentarily forgetting Andrew Ryan’s grandiose speech. For all his philosophizing, I couldn’t deny it was impressive.

But that awe didn’t last long.

A man began speaking over the radio. "...but the lighthouse is all lit up like hellfire...looks like some kind of plane crash..."

Another responded, "...we're in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean... How could it-"

"... Dunno, you best get over there, and be quick about it... The splicers are coming..."

"You've gotta be kidding- How do you know someone's even coming?"

As the submarine approached what looked like the final stop, the first man answered, "Cause we got a bathysphere on its way down... That means we've got company."

... Guess they're expecting me.

As the sub- well, bathysphere, as they called it, docked the second man spoke. "O-okay, just one more minute... The 'sphere- the 'sphere is coming up now..."

I could feel the bugs coming into range. Lots of them. I got a full picture of the area before I even stepped out. There was a deformed woman with a hook and Johnny's gun. It was enough to know what was about to happen.

The man, Johnny, didn’t stand a chance.

I barely had time to react, so I—