Page 2

The setting sun cast a golden pathway across the water's surface, beckoning her forward.

Isolde let her sandals dangle from her fingers as her toes sank into the cool, damp sand.

With each step, the day's frustration melted away, replaced by the familiar comfort of her oldest friend—the ocean itself.

"God, I've missed you," she whispered to the waves, feeling oddly less ridiculous talking to water than she perhaps should have. "Work's been all microscopes and data lately. Not enough of... this."

She swept her arm toward the horizon where the sun melted into the water. The waves surged forward suddenly, rushing to greet her ankles. Isolde laughed, delighted by the cool caress against her skin.

"Are you saying you missed me too?"

Another bigger wave rushed in, swirling playfully around her calves. A curious sensation tingled up her legs—almost like recognition.

"You know, I used to think I'd have it all figured out by thirty.

" Isolde walked deeper until the water kissed her knees.

"Career, relationship, purpose. The whole package.

" She dipped her fingers into the water, tracing patterns on its surface.

"Got one out of three, I guess. Not bad, statistically speaking. "

The ocean seemed to listen, its rhythm steady and consoling.

Here, alone with the vast Atlantic, Isolde never truly felt lonely.

Every drop contained multitudes—microscopic life forms, dissolved minerals, and ancient molecules that had once been dinosaur tears or pirate ship wood.

The water connected everyone and everything.

"Maybe turning thirty won't be so terrible after all," she said softly as the first stars appeared in the darkening sky above her. "As long as I have you."

Before long, the silvery glow of the full moon illuminated Isolde's path along the shoreline.

She had lost track of time and distance, her bare feet leaving a trail of fleeting impressions in the wet sand.

The ocean's rhythm had become her heartbeat.

Each wave rolled in like a tender caress against her calves as she waded through its shallow waters.

"You're showing off tonight, aren't you?" Isolde laughed, addressing the ocean as the moonlight created a shimmering highway across its surface.

Her fingertips trailed through the water beside her, creating tiny eddies that seemed to sparkle with unusual brightness. Strange—the water felt warmer than it should in early autumn, almost as if it recognized her touch.

The cut-off jean shorts clung to her curvy hips, damp from occasional splashes. Her Boston T-shirt fluttered against her skin in the strengthening breeze, and she tugged her light jacket tighter as goose bumps rose on her arms—not from cold, but from an inexplicable electricity in the air.

She should head back. She glanced over her shoulder at the distant lights that marked the houseboat community. Only then did Isolde realize how far she had wandered—all the way to the island's northern point where the research station she worked at perched near the shoreline.

She stopped, her sandals dangling from her fingers, and gazed up at the full moon directly overhead. The perfect circle of light seemed to pulse, matching a sudden throbbing sensation in her veins.

"Well, happy birthday to me," Isolde whispered, suddenly figuring that it must be midnight. The strange energy coursing through her body intensified, and she gasped as her fingertips began to tingle, then burn with ice-cold fire.

The ocean, previously so gentle, withdrew rapidly from the shore. Water receded past normal tide lines, exposing sand that hadn't seen air in years. Fish flopped helplessly in suddenly shallow pools. Crabs scuttled sideways in confusion.

"What's happening?" Alarm shot through Isolde's body as she backed away from the water's edge.

Something deep within the ocean—something ancient and powerful—seemed to answer her. A distant rumbling grew beneath her feet, vibrating through the sand as if the seafloor itself was shifting.

On the horizon, darkness blotted out the stars. Not clouds—water. A wall of water rising impossibly high, silhouetted against the night sky.

"No," Isolde gasped, her eyes widening in disbelief. "That's not possible."

The tidal wave built higher, cresting at a height that defied natural laws. Thirty feet. Forty. More. Moonlight caught in its curl, transforming the massive wave into a glittering mountain of destruction bearing down on the shoreline.

Isolde spun around, instinct screaming at her to get to the station, to higher ground. Her feet dug into sand, but she knew—even as her powerful legs pushed forward—that no human could outrun what was coming.

"Help!" she screamed, though no one could possibly hear her over the deafening roar now filling the air.

The research station's lights flickered ahead. Would the elevated structure withstand what was coming? Doubtful.

A bizarre sensation of déjà vu washed over her. This felt simultaneously terrifying and... familiar? As if she had been waiting for this moment her entire life without even knowing it. The water sang to her. Called her name with voices no human ear should detect.

"I don't understand!" Isolde cried out, tears streaming down her face as she ran toward the dunes.

Too late. The wave struck land with apocalyptic force. The research station—her workplace, her second home—shattered like a child's sandcastle. Steel and concrete twisted and disappeared into the churning maelstrom.

Then the water found her. The initial impact knocked Isolde off her feet, sending her tumbling into the surge. Salt water filled her nose, then her mouth. Her lungs screamed for oxygen as the current wrapped around her body like possessive hands, dragging her deeper.

Strangely, the water seemed to pull her not with mindless destruction but with determined purpose as if it had waited thirty years for precisely this moment.