好家伙，刚从鬼门关出来，就被更吓人的玩意儿整懵了。 spit out a mouthful of seawater, the salty taste burning my throat. I coughed again, violent and uncontrollable, but my arms felt like they were dead weight, useless for anything but sinking further. This ain't some beach vacation, man, this is textbook survival horror. Look around. Green seaweed swayed like curtains in the current, illuminated by the weak sunlight filtering through the waves. Schools of colorful fish darted between the fronds, their scales glinting like tiny jewels. The horizon was a haze of gray, washed-out and featureless, like a rag that had seen too many washes. Where the hell am I? The question echoed in my mind, but the only answer was the relentless lap of the waves against the shore. Wait, shore? I blinked, trying to focus past the sting in my eyes. Yes, there was a shore. A jagged line of rocks and sand broke the endless blue, not far away. I was drifting towards it, slowly, helplessly.