The sea had calmed since last night's gusts. The soft lapping of water against the hull of the police vessel was almost rhythmic, like a lullaby. But no one on deck was relaxing.
Chief Tyson stood at the front of the boat, arms folded, his heavy ox like structure firm and immovable. His thick black coat swayed slightly in the sea breeze, but his focus was set solely ahead—Lagooncrest Isle. His eyes, shadowed beneath his cap, burned with determination.
Behind him stood Judith Kay, the graceful gazelle anthro whose watchful eyes missed nothing. Her stance was loose, yet every part of her was alert, trained, efficient. She scanned the coastline through binoculars, noting the slope of cliffs and the layout of the inland woods.
Jason Ramirez, the koala anthro, leaned over the railing, gripping the edge with both hands. His round ears twitched with every sound, more from nervousness than instinct. He wore his badge with pride, his Ridgecliff PD uniform crisp and newly pressed. He has recently become a officer after serving three years as emergency dispatcher.
And then there is Robert.
The human-dog hybrid stood quietly at the side of the deck. Unlike the others, he didn't scan the island or make notes in a tablet. His eyes were downcast, but his thoughts were racing. Finally, he muttered to himself, soft enough that only the sea might hear:
"Okay, buddy… we're here for you. Just hang on."
---
Earlier that morning, as the sun was barely cresting the Ridgecliff horizon, the team had boarded their ship in secrecy. Only a few top-ranking officers and Devina Foxington herself were aware of the operation. With the mayor away, she had pulled a few strings to authorize the mission.
"This better be worth it," she had muttered to Chief Tyson during the final check.
"It is," he'd responded, not even glancing her way. "Brendon is out there. And whatever's going on in Lagooncrest Isle… it must be something that is concerning. I just... know it."
---
Now, as the island drew closer, Tyson took a long breath and turned toward his team.
"We land in ten. Judith, Jason—be ready. This isn't a training exercise."
Jason snapped to attention. "Yes, sir!"
Judith nodded calmly. "Already scanning the potential points of entry, Chief. We should make landfall west of the main town. Less visibility. If Brendon's still trying to stay hidden, that's where he'll be."
"Agreed," Tyson replied.
Jason hesitated before speaking up. "Uh, Chief?"
Tyson glanced at him. "What is it, Ramirez?"
The young koala scratched the back of his neck, sheepish. "This Brendon guy… I mean, I've read the brief. He is the Sheriff of our town, he is on leave now, volunteered to look into missing persons, right?"
"Right," Robert said from behind him, voice low. "He's also my best friend. And the best damn tracker this island has ever seen."
Jason blinked. "Oh… okay. Sorry. I wasn't questioning him. Just trying to understand what kind of guy we're walking in for."
Tyson stepped in. "He's reckless and an idiot who just does whatever he likes. But he knows how to get answers— no matter what it takes. That's what worries me."
Judith added, "If he hasn't contacted anyone in over three days, he has either found something huge… or he's in serious trouble."
Jason swallowed and nodded. "Got it."
They all fell silent as the boat reached the shallows. The crew on board dropped anchor and extended a ramp.
Tyson was the first to step off. His hooves pressed into the damp sand. The familiar scent of pine and seawater filled his nostrils. He'd been here before, a decade ago, during one of the early disappearances. But it felt different now—thicker. Like the air itself held secrets.
"Move quietly," he ordered. "We don't know who's watching."
They slipped into the treeline, vanishing from sight.
---
For the next hour, the team trekked through the forest. Judith guided them around natural landmarks. Robert remained quiet, only occasionally glancing at a handheld device tracking Brendon's last known signal. It was faint. Unstable.
Jason kept up surprisingly well despite the uneven terrain. He was slow, but observant, often pointing out minor details—broken branches, disturbed foliage, even faint tracks.
"Something big came through here," he whispered during one such moment. "Maybe… a bear?"
Robert looked over and narrowed his eyes. "No. Not a bear. Too many deep indentations. And that spacing... that's bipedal."
Tyson crouched, his heavy frame shockingly agile for someone of his size. "Judith?"
She nodded. "I see it. Whatever walked here did it recently."
Jason blinked. "Wait… so we're already near Brendon?"
Robert exhaled through his nose. "We're near something. Brendon wouldn't be careless. But if he was running…"
The implication hung in the air.
Jason looked from one officer to the next. "Wait, wait. Are you saying he was being chased?"
Judith stood and adjusted her rifle strap. "We don't know that. But if he was… then we're not the only ones on this island right now."
Tyson nodded. "Let's move. Double the work rate."
---
As they closed in on Brendon's last known coordinates, the terrain grew rougher. Rusted fencing jutted from the underbrush—remnants of a long-forgotten perimeter. Vines crawled over old stone markers and wooden signs, their text faded by rain and time.
Then, Jason stopped. "Hey… guys?"
He pointed through the trees.
There, hidden behind overgrowth and leaning at a strange angle, was a structure. It looked like it had once been part of a large compound—military, perhaps. Maybe scientific. The outer walls were covered in moss, but reinforced steel doors told another story.
Robert's ears perked up. "That's got to be it."
Tyson grunted. "No doubt."
They approached with caution.
Judith scouted ahead and gave the signal. All clear.
The group entered the main building. It was hollow. Empty corridors lined with broken equipment and shattered glass. Graffiti clung to the walls. So did the scent of metal and… something else.
Blood.
Jason wrinkled his nose. "What… is this place?"
Tyson glanced at Judith. "Sweep left. Robert and Jason with me."
As they moved through the corridor, they found the first signs of Brendon's presence: a torn sleeve, caught on a hook. A few drops of blood. A scratched wall with deep claw marks.
Robert's heart sank.
"He was here… recently. And he was fighting."
Judith's voice crackled over their comms. "Found something. Main lab chamber. Looks like a struggle happened here too."
The group regrouped quickly.
Inside the lab chamber, Jason's jaw dropped.
Giant pods stood cracked and broken. Some had fluid stains leading out. Wires spilled like entrails across the floor. A nearby workbench was overturned. Files littered the ground.
And in the center of the room—
Robert knelt down and picked up a small metal object. "Brendon's communicator…"
Tyson clenched his fists.
"Damn it."
Jason looked at one of the busted pods, then back at the team. "Guys… these things. They look like… incubation tanks."
Robert stepped toward one, studying the claw marks on the inside of the glass. "No. They're containment tanks. For whatever the hell they were building in here."
Jason swallowed again. "This is… this is way above our pay grade, right?"
Tyson turned to him slowly. "That's exactly why we're here. Because it isn't just some conspiracy theory anymore. This is real."
Judith's eyes narrowed. "Brendon found something. And someone didn't want him walking away."
Robert stood, his voice tight. "We find him. Now."
Jason looked around, searching for any hint of where Brendon might have gone. "So what do we do?"
Tyson cracked his neck. "First We need to look through this files. Let's find out what Brendon found. Then we will look for him."