Oh what a find it was. Up topside, looking down through the depths with radar and other amazing wonders of technology, the team had found what appeared to be the ruins of something truly massive, and so very near the surface. A great find, a wonderful find, the scientists drew straws and one lucky bastard, Dr. Foster, had been the one chosen to don the brass suit, and sink down into the cold depths to find what treasures lay below.

The light on his helmet helped illuminate the gloom, some thousand feet from the surface, and he walked the bottom of the risen floor, upon old stone and barnacle-rich statues, great statues of long since past gods. Who would have thought such wonders could be found just off the coast of Wales, what joys could be found? Was this lost Avalon? Atlantis? Something older? The script was faded and old upon one great pillar, and as he walked, he explored.

High above, the ship twisted and lurched, and then shuddered from great impacts, and lurched, as great tears ripped through the iron sides, while below, the good doctor did not pay attention to the twelve shadows that rose over head, towards the surface. Nor did he see the malevolent glow of a great pair of eyes or the maw stretching wide coming up behind...