Philippine Strait.
Humanity had lived alongside the sea for thousands of years, yet had never fully understood her temperament. The ocean was like a young girl in her teens—smiling sweetly at you one second, flying into a rage the next. Even the most experienced sailors dared not claim to have completely grasped the sea's nature.
The old captain had been sailing for over forty years. At his age, he had spent nearly half his life at sea, yet the ocean remained as mysterious and unpredictable to him as ever. At nine o'clock that morning, local time, just as his cargo ship entered the Philippine Strait, a pitch-black hurricane descended upon it with claws bared.
Unlike the young sailors who went pale at the slightest breeze, the old captain had truly weathered storms. He had even survived several terrifying tempests, experiences he could boast about to his descendants years later. But today was different—different from every storm he had seen in his life. Gale winds drove raging waves toward them one after another, each thousand-pound swell hammering the ship's metal hull like iron mallets taking turns. Though it was past nine in the morning, the sky was darker than night. Tons of torrential rain mingled with the roaring spray and battered the lone cargo ship, washing its hull until it gleamed.
Things reached their worst when a reef that had appeared from nowhere smashed through the cargo ship's hull. Black seawater rushed through the breach, as if countless invisible claws were dragging the steel giant down into the boundless darkness beneath the surface. The old captain remained calm in the face of danger, coolly directing every sailor to do all they could. But all their efforts seemed so weak and futile against nature's assault.
The torrential seawater battered the windows without