The meteorological radar aboard *The Leviathan* began sounding cautionary chimes at dawn. A massive low-pressure cyclonic depression, born over the Gulf of Sirte in North Africa, had collided with cold alpine winds sweeping down through the Adriatic Sea. Within three hours, the calm turquoise waters of the Ionian Sea were transformed into a maelstrom of slate-grey waves topped with howling white foam. On the bridge, Lucas stood beside Commander Evans,…
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