In the perilous depths of the North Atlantic Ocean, Stockton Rush, the co-founder and CEO of Ocean Gate, had convinced four millionaires to join him on an expedition inside the Titan submarine to explore the remnants of the Titanic. Hamish, Paul, Shahzada, and his son Suleman had followed Stockton into the abyss, their trust in him unwavering.

As the Titan descended further into the murky abyss, an oppressive tension settled over the crew. Stockton’s once-charming demeanor began to suffocate them, weighed down by the relentless underwater pressure that slowly eroded their sanity. Time seemed to stretch endlessly, each passing moment amplifying the weight of their impending doom.

The crew questioned Stockton’s judgment, their doubts simmering beneath the surface. But Stockton, desperate to reassure them, clung to the game controller, his voice trembling with a mix of anticipation and terror. “We’re about to make history,” he asserted, his words tinged with desperation, seeking validation for his ill-conceived plan.

As the atmospheric pressure worsened, the crew’s doubts intensified. Suddenly, the game controller, their last thread of control, malfunctioned, defying Stockton’s attempts to fix it. Panic gripped their hearts as Stockton shook and slammed the unresponsive device, their collective fear exploding into chaos.

Faith in Stockton shattered, replaced by a maddening cocktail of fear, anger, and desperation. Crew members resorted to pounding on the unyielding walls, their futile attempts to escape the suffocating confines an expression of their mounting despair.

In the midst of the chaos, one crew member, his voice laced with hysteria, directed his fury at Stockton. “You thought a wireless game controller could steer this damn submersible? You’re a lunatic! We’re going to die because of your reckless decisions!” His words reverberated through the submarine, a damning indictment of Stockton’s hubris.

Suleman, Shahzada’s son, succumbed to uncontrollable sobs as the mounting terror overwhelmed him. His young mind struggled to comprehend the depths of the nightmare they were trapped in, his cries echoing through the cramped confines of the submersible, a haunting reminder of their shared desperation.

Two crew members, their sanity hanging by a thread, launched themselves at Stockton. Fueled by a mixture of fear and betrayal, they mercilessly beat him with a Logitech F710, their blows landing with sickening thuds against his face. Blood splattered the walls, mingling with the suffocating atmosphere of impending doom.

But amidst the violence, the crew remained prisoners of the relentless pressure. It infiltrated their minds, distorting their thoughts and shattering their sanity. The line between reason and madness blurred further, their actions growing increasingly erratic and desperate.

But even in the midst of the violence, the crew was overwhelmed by the oppressive pressure that pressed against their bodies. The air grew thin, making every breath a struggle. Stockton, his face battered and broken, whispered a last line through his swollen lips. “Should’ve used Kinect”