Flickering lights
Alex’s flashlight shone through the hallway. “Electrics feel unstable here,” he muttered, tapping a ceiling light beside him. The bulb flickered erratically, then burst with a soft pop. “Let’s not stay long. Electricity and water don’t match well,” Alex said, holding his breath as they stepped over a warped stairwell turned sideways. It led to the cargo bay—now the ship’s lowest, most waterlogged section. “This way,” Sarah whispered.
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