“What—how is that possible?” Sam exclaims.

Something tossed the submarine right out of the water.

We run towards the docks to check for survivors, although it doesn’t look good. The back half of the vessel is crumpled in like a crushed aluminum can and there are jagged trenches clawed in the sub’s side paneling. We can see right through the walls as we get closer—the ship definitely took on water. Loose wires from the fried electrical systems spit sparks as we approach.

“Careful,” I say. “Don’t get too close.”

“What the hell could’ve done this?” Nine asks, his hands braced on his knees as he catches his breath.

As if in answer, the captain of our boat screams. One minute he’s treading water and waiting for us to tell him it’s all clear, and the next there’s a dark shadow growing underneath him. He’s sucked beneath the waves with a sharp cry and swallowed whole by the beast that slowly rises from the depths of the Hudson River.

We all take a step back, then another. Two of the agents break off into sprints in the opposite direction, horrified by the size of the creature before us. Water flows off the monster’s knobby skin, which is translucent to the point where I can see the black blood pumping through its power-line-sized veins. It is hairless, neckless and hunched. Crooked fangs protrude from its lower jaw and make it impossible for the thing to fully close its mouth, a steady stream of yellowish drool spilling forth. Gills the size of helicopter propellers spasm as the monster takes its first breath of air. It’s on all fours, its hind legs bowed, its front legs more like thick gorilla arms, and already it’s almost as tall as the Statue of Liberty.

The tough-girl attitude drops pretty quickly for Daniela. She screams and Nine has to clap a hand over her mouth. I don’t blame her. The monster is terrifying and I’ve fought plenty of the Mogadorians’ twisted creations before.

“Holy shit,” Sam whispers. “It’s a freaking tarrasque.”

My head whips around to Sam in disbelief. “You’ve seen one of these before?”

“No, I—I—,” he stammers. “It’s a D&D thing.”

“Nerd,” Nine mumbles as he slowly backpedals.

Daniela shoves Nine’s hand away, getting it together enough to glare at me. “You didn’t tell me they have, uh—freaking Mogasaurs!”

This must’ve been what Setrákus Ra dropped into the water when the Anubis left this morning. One last gift for the decimated city of New York. A reminder for the military presence of who’s really in charge. I let my Lumen course over my hands. I’ll have to generate a lot of fire if I’m going to make a mark on this beast.