Off the coast of South Korea and Japan, the island city of Tsushima was one of the eight great cities for divers. A large number of gates alongside a disproportionately small amount of divers made for contracts and commissions to always be in high supply. Despite being a small island in the middle of the ocean, transport was no issue. Large bridges connected the small island to the adjacent lands. The modern age also made liberal use of planes, bypassing the need for bridges all together. Sporting a population of eight million, the once small, rural communities and townships have since been replaced by skyscrapers and neon billboards. The thin island had since been expanded with concrete, resembling nothing of its former self.

Tsushima's diver district was no different to the rest of the city. It had everything a diver would have wanted in their downtime - a place to stay, somewhere to eat, entertainment, equipment stores, and at the core of the district: Diver Services. It was as close to home as a diver could call it. The rubberized floor gave an unexpected comfort compared to the concrete outside. Posters littered the walls. Some were advertisements for hired positions. Some were advertisements for brands of equipment. [i]Rhodes Wears Dewa Heavy Industry[/i], a memorable poster depicting a man clad in black plasteel armour, his massive sword Cross Gear resting on his shoulder. Some were just plain motivational. [i]Tsushima Wants You To Protect Mankind[/i]. The lobby of this Diver Services office wasn't as packed as other cities'. As a result, it became considerably easier to see what other, interesting looking divers were doing.

Brooding in the corner (or perhaps just waiting for someone), [url=https://i.imgur.com/i0057ZA.png]a man in a familiar uniform[/url] stood. An investigator for Diver Services, they were some of the only divers that had some form of uniform; it came with the position, after all. The exact duties of an investigator were unknown to the general populace. What was known was that becoming one was probably the most difficult thing for a diver to do. Becoming an investigator was an invitation only affair. Seeing one in the flesh was exceptionally rare and, more importantly, meant that there was something big going on.

Much more noisily was [url=https://i.imgur.com/HjyIM07.jpg]a boy at the reception counter[/url]. Speaking to the receptionist, he was under duress. Panic filled his voice and he gestured with the intensity of a thousand mimes.

[color=a187be]"What do you mean they all cancelled?!"[/color] The boy exclaimed.

[color=fdc68a]"Sorry sir, but that group of divers is currently unfit for any form of excursion as they are in the hospital. The cancellation clause of your contract will be repaid in fu-"[/color]

[color=a187be]"It's not about the money!"[/color] He yelled. The glances of those nearby calmed his tone, forcing him to take a deep breath. [color=a187be]"Sorry ma'am. Money's no object to me and it's just that this is a [i]very[/i] time sensitive matter. Is there any replacement that you can give me?"[/color]

[color=fdc68a]"I'm sorry,"[/color] the receptionist bowed, [color=fdc68a]"but we don't have any active groups able to help. There are plenty of independent divers. Certainly some of those here would be able to help."[/color]

The boy instantly turned around, approaching nearby divers. Like two magnets of the same pole, everyone he approached turned away. Even if he called out to them, they gave a shake of the head, sign of the hand, or blatantly said no. The boy was hopeless. The one group that actually heard him out was suddenly struck by a case of 'trapped on a hospital bed'.

The young boy racked his brain, tugged his hair, and took a seat on a nearby chair. For him, finding someone to help wasn't going to be easy.