Dark Horse Comics - The Massive: pt. 2

Uploaded by geekandsundry on Oct 17, 2012


SEAMAN 1: Hey, look at this!
A little kid?
All the way out here?
SEAMAN 3 (OFFSCREEN): Toss him back.
He's too small.
SEAMAN 1: Gah!
Little bastard!


Mag Nagendra.
You be strong now.
You be brave.
You're needed.

MAG (VOICEOVER): I don't know how I lived that day, but we
never questioned the ocean too much, never
second-guessed its ways.
I know it returned me.
She returned me, and I was hurt.
But in time, I healed.
I never spoke a word of what happened.
The fishing was never the same.
There was cultural shift, my family moving from subsistence
living to a wage class.
Buying processed food in the new markets, the paychecks
earned from manufacturing jobs.
I joined the Tamil Eelam when I was 16.
When I was 22, I went abroad, a seasoned resistance fighter
seeking new wars to wage.
I joined Blackbell PMC under the command of Callum Israel,
a white man from Bangladesh.
We, nevertheless, held common ground.
We talked to the ocean.
We became friends.
CALLUM: Kapital to Rapid One.
Rapid One, come back.
MARY (OVER RADIO): Rapid One, Kapital.
Approaching the factory ship on the port side.
CALLUM: Copy, One.
What's your proximity to its hull?
MARY: Sven, get the profiler ready.
On my mark.

MAG: Rifle shot.
CALLUM: Rapid.
Mary, are you OK?
Are you OK?

Rapid Two, slow down.
We won't see anything at 12 knots.
Rapid One, anything yet?
SEAMAN 2 (OVER RADIO): Uh, negative, Cal.
MAG: Here, Cal.
CALLUM: No, no thanks.
What the hell happened, Mag?
Since when does the whaling fleet take shots at us?
MAG: It's their seventh year of decimated profits.
We found her.
She's alive.

CALLUM: I don't understand how--
MARY: Shh.
You don't have to.
Just be happy.
CALLUM: Of course I'm happy.
MARY: It just wasn't my time.
CALLUM: In the mid '90s when I was doing mercenary work, I
was caught out on a drilling platform in heavy seas.
Monster North Sea swells, really epic.
How that rig stayed intact, I have no idea.
I was standing on the catwalk, the water inches from my
boots, millions of tons of moving water, ancient water,
this primordial energy that's been crisscrossing the globe
since forever.
Another meter of high tide, I'd have been swept away.
MARY: Not your time.
CALLUM: Why not my time?
Everyone else on that rig died that day.
MARY: You don't know that.
I'm still here after you thought you lost me.
CALLUM: I still don't understand that.
MARY: As much death as we bring to the ocean, we should
just feel fortunate and humbled when it
give us life in return.