*You hear an odd sound above you, and near the ceiling of the Iron Lung something in the corner of your vision starts to almost wobble, or warp. And then, from this quivering seam, bursts some rectangular hole, something that can only be described as a portal. Light torrents through it, and there is a rush of cool, fresh air.*
*And then, something falls through this hole, and it closes sharply behind them, taking the light and the air with it. You can tell that this is a person, not very tall. They hit the floor of the submarine hard.*
Ow— OH FUCK WHY IS THE FLOOR SLIMY? EW EW EW WHERE AM I—?
*Your radio cracks with static as the stranger scrambles to sit up, and look around them. You can see now that they aren’t very old, maybe sixteen. They wear glasses and have a small, glowing device in their hand.*
Oh yeah, I got my coordinates way off…
*In the middle of their sentence, they see you.*
Oh hi, sir… sorry about this….
[Simon scrambles away the second he notices the air warping, a hoarse whimper ripping itself from his throat, and he stares with wide, dull eyes at the apparition - because it must be, a hallucination, another false hope dangled in his face by the Eel, or a CO2-and-radiation-poisoning-induced figment of his imagination. Either way, it's not worth acknowledging, and he simply turns away from it, curling back up into a ball against the side of the sub and digging his nails into the bubbling, itchy skin on the side of his throat, trying desperately to return to that hazy state where it doesn't hurt so much and he can pretend he's not just sitting in a metal coffin waiting to die.]