The silence in the temple was too perfect.
No waves. No fish. No life. Just cold stone, heavy salt, and something old watching from the dark.
Dominic stood still in the center of the grand hall. Pillars stretched high above him, carved with symbols he didn't recognize but somehow understood. The marble beneath his feet shimmered with blue veins—like the temple itself was alive.
Beside him, Aegirion stood quiet, his silver trident resting against his shoulder. His pale blue eyes watched the floor as if expecting it to speak.
"Is it always this quiet?" Dominic asked.
Aegirion didn't answer at first. He tilted his head, listening. A beat passed, then another. Finally, he said, "It's listening."
Dominic frowned. "To what?"
"To you."
Before Dominic could respond, the floor beneath them rumbled. Not loud—but deep. A low vibration that ran through Dominic's spine like a warning.
A section of the floor at the far end of the hall shifted. Slowly, stone slabs slid apart with a grinding sound, revealing a hidden staircase wrapped in blue mist.
Aegirion stepped forward. "It wants to show you something."
Dominic's heartbeat picked up. He wasn't sure if it was fear or curiosity. Maybe both. Still, he moved. Each step echoed as he walked toward the staircase. He paused at the top, glanced back at Aegirion, who nodded.
He descended.
The further he went, the warmer the air became. The mist curled around him like smoke, thick but not choking. It wasn't just a staircase—it was a spiral of memory. He could feel it in the walls. Hints of Poseidon's anger. His sorrow. His hunger for control.
They reached a door at the bottom.
Circular. Covered in spiraling symbols. It pulsed faintly.
Aegirion stopped behind him. "This is the Heart of Poseidon. It holds what's left of his truth."
Dominic stepped forward.
As he approached, the door glowed brighter. The symbols shimmered, aligning into something like a compass. A click echoed, and the door split open silently.
Inside was a chamber shaped like a dome. The floor was water—shallow, glowing faint blue. At the center floated a massive crystal orb, cracked down the middle but still glowing.
Dominic moved toward it slowly. Each step sent ripples across the glowing pool.
"That's not supposed to be broken," Aegirion muttered, stepping beside him. "Something's disturbed it."
"What is it?"
"Poseidon's last memory. His will, his knowledge, his warnings."
Dominic reached out, his fingers brushing the surface of the orb.
Instantly—visions burst through his mind.
Screams. Cities underwater. Oceans rising and swallowing empires. Ships snapped like twigs in whirlpools. A three-pronged crown falling into the abyss.
A woman's voice shouting a name—
Neratheia.
His chest clenched. His lungs burned. It felt like drowning.
He fell back, coughing.
Aegirion grabbed him by the shoulder. "Breathe. You saw her, didn't you?"
Dominic nodded slowly, wiping sweat from his forehead. "That name... Neratheia. Who is she?"
Aegirion's eyes darkened. "She was once Poseidon's equal. Some say more. She ruled the Drowned Court, the part of the sea even Poseidon feared. If she's stirring, this world's not ready."
Suddenly, the water in the chamber rippled.
A sound—deep and far off, like thunder rolling underwater.
Outside, shadows shifted.
Something moved.
Not fish. Not a shark. Bigger. Much bigger.
The temple moaned. Walls trembled.
Aegirion turned toward the door. "We have to move. Now."
Dominic followed without arguing. They raced back up the spiral staircase, the rumbling getting louder with each step.
As they reached the main hall again, a violent surge of water crashed against the outer walls of the temple. Stone cracked. The light dimmed.
A silhouette passed by one of the high windows—long and serpentine. Scales the color of deep night. Eyes glowing orange.
Dominic froze. "What the hell is that?"
"One of hers," Aegirion said grimly. "A sea wyrm. A scout. If it's found this place, it means she's close."
"Should we fight it?"
Aegirion shook his head. "We'd die. Let's vanish instead."
He raised his trident. A burst of blue light shot from its tip, striking a carving on the wall. The floor below them shimmered and dissolved into a portal of whirling water.
"Hold your breath," Aegirion said.
Dominic didn't have time to ask questions.
They fell.
Spinning.
Then—light.
They landed in a quiet lagoon, surrounded by high cliffs. Birds chirped above. Aegirion stood, trident still in hand, checking the horizon.
Dominic sat up, soaking wet but alive.
"Where are we now?"
Aegirion finally looked back at him.
"Somewhere safe. For now. But she knows you're awake now. She felt the orb react to you."
Dominic wiped salt from his eyes. "Then what do we do next?"
Aegirion gazed out toward the sea. "We find allies. Before Neratheia finds you first."
Dominic stared into the water, heart still pounding.
He wasn't sure if he was ready to be Poseidon.
But ready or not—he wasn't alone anymore.
And the deep had begun to wake.
A thunderstorm rolled across the southern sea, veiling the sky in a bruised grey. Lightning carved jagged lines through the clouds, briefly revealing the towering cliffs of Aquessis, a fortress built upon the bones of drowned kings. Here, at the edge of the world, Queen Neratheia stood on a balcony shaped from coral and obsidian.
Her silver eyes, cold and ancient, scanned the crashing waves below. Salt whipped through the air, catching in her ink-dark hair, but she didn't flinch. Behind her, a dozen shadowed advisors whispered, their voices low and hurried.
"The Vessel has reached the threshold of Poseidon's Tomb," one of them murmured.
"Aegirion walks beside him," added another. "The gods stir in their graves."
Neratheia raised a hand, and the voices stopped.
"So, the child walks where even gods fear to tread." Her voice was soft but carried power, like a wave just before it crashed. "Let him explore. Let him see. The deeper he goes, the more he binds himself to that fate."
She turned away from the sea and stepped into her throne room. The walls shimmered with enchanted glass that showed visions from far-off places. One pane revealed Dominic, moving cautiously through ancient ruins. Another showed Aegirion placing his hand on a stone altar, unlocking memories buried in the depths.
Neratheia moved to a different screen. This one flickered with unstable energy. Through the distortion, an image slowly stabilized: Varun, the Sea Hunter, still tracking Dominic's spiritual scent through the undercurrent.
"He lingers too long," she muttered. "Perhaps he has doubts."
One of her generals, armored in jagged shells and bearing a trident, stepped forward. "Shall I send the Leviathan?"
"No," Neratheia said. "Not yet. I want the Vessel to believe he's gaining power. To believe he's in control. Let the illusion grow. When it breaks... it will crush him."
She descended the dais, trailing her fingers across the surface of a long obsidian table. The grooves in its surface lit up faintly—a map. Glowing dots pulsed like heartbeats: Dominic, Aegirion, Varun.
But a fourth light had appeared.
"Who's this?" she asked, narrowing her gaze.
"Unknown," a scribe replied. "But their energy… it's similar to Thalorin's."
Neratheia froze. The name hadn't been spoken aloud in centuries.
"Where is this fourth presence located?"
"Near the Temple. Close. Very close."
The Queen stared at the glowing point. A slow, calculating smile spread across her lips. "It seems the game grows interesting."
With a wave of her hand, she summoned a messenger—an armored figure with wings of flowing kelp and eyes like twin pearls.
"Take word to the Gloom Depths," she ordered. "Tell the Deep Choir to prepare their song. Soon, the throne will shift, and the sea will choose its ruler anew."
The messenger vanished, leaving the chamber in silence.
Neratheia returned to her balcony, watching the dark sea stretch endlessly beyond.
"Come, Dominic," she whispered to the wind. "Come and find what was never meant for your hands. Let the old gods stir. Let them rise. I have waited long enough."
Meanwhile, somewhere deeper beneath the reef, hidden by layers of ancient magics and coral-born illusions, a girl stood at the edge of a sunken amphitheater. Her hair floated like fire in the water, and her eyes gleamed with eerie familiarity. She was not of this world—yet she was drawn to the same call.
Her lips parted.
"Poseidon... I will find you before the others do."
And the water around her trembled.