Could you survive the real Twilight Zone Philip Renaud and Kenneth Kostel
You’re traveling deep beneath
the ocean’s surface,
where faint lights flicker
and toothy grins flash.
You are now entering… the Twilight Zone.
Your mission is to survive these depths
and journey to the surface
after sundown to feed.
You may now pick your player.
Just kidding— you don’t have a choice.
You’re a hatchetfish.
And almost everything else
is trying to eat you.
The tools at your disposal
are a uniquely shaped body,
shiny scales, and glowing spots
on your belly.
You’re going to need a lot of skill
and a little luck.
Your first challenge is to begin
your upwards trek.
Your swim bladder allows you
to precisely control your buoyancy.
Come nightfall, you slowly fill it up,
becoming less dense and rising
towards the surface.
You can’t swim fast, but your narrow build
makes you maneuverable.
This is especially important since
predators could spring out of the darkness
at any moment.
In fact, a fangtooth
is gliding beneath you.
It has the ocean’s biggest
tooth-to-body size ratio.
Food is hard to come
by in the Twilight Zone,
so predators have fearsome adaptations
to make every attack count.
The fangtooth’s skin is ultra-black:
it reflects less than 0.5% of the light
that hits it,
making this fish particularly
hard to spot.
Fortunately, the bioluminescent organs
lining your belly are regulated
to match the intensity and pattern of the
faint light from the ocean’s surface.
This counter-illumination disguises
your silhouette.
So when the fangtooth gazes upwards,
you’re almost invisible.
A bright spot appears in the distance.
You go to check it out,
but something’s looming in the darkness.
The light is a bioluminescent lure
belonging to an anglerfish.
You dart away before it quickly
opens its jaws,
sucking in a hapless fish
that got too close.
Another narrow escape,
but you’re nearly there.
Although more than 90%
of deep-sea creatures are bioluminescent,
only one group produces the color red:
dragonfishes.
One of them is near.
Because red light is quickly absorbed
by seawater,
most deep-sea inhabitants can’t see it.
The dragonfish emits red light
from organs by its eyes,
using an invisible headlight to locate
unsuspecting prey
that its scoops
into its cavernous jaw.
You can’t see your enemy,
but your silvery, mirror-like scales
scatter and soften direct light,
keeping you hidden.
After three close calls,
you reach… the Photic Zone.
You’ve just participated
in the world’s largest migration.
It takes place every night as trillions
of organisms rise from the ocean’s depths
to enjoy the surface’s rich resources
under the cover of darkness.
The payoff is huge.
Here, your light-sensitive eyes take
in a buffet of small crustaceans
and gelatinous zooplankton.
During the day, phytoplankton use sunlight
to turn dissolved carbon dioxide
into energy and build their own cells.
They become food for small grazers,
forming the base of the food web,
which extends back down
to the Twilight Zone— and beyond.
Organic matter generated up here—
like bits of skin, poop, and dead animals—
eventually sinks or is transported
in the stomachs of animals
returning from their nightly migrations.
These materials then feed the creatures
below that don’t migrate.
This ensures that some of the carbon
from the atmosphere
is locked away in the ocean
for hundreds of years to come.
That’s why this process is known
as the biological carbon pump.
Without it, there’d be much
more carbon dioxide in the atmosphere,
where it contributes to climate change.
Your avatar, the hatchetfish,
is part of this crucial process.
Your first quest is complete,
but you must repeat this journey
every night for the rest of your life.
As the sun rises,
the surface becomes dangerous,
and you descend back into the shadows
of the Twilight Zone.