Far beyond the Rift and deeper than any mortal had dared swim, a storm brewed beneath the ocean floor.
Not just a storm of sea or wind.
A storm of vengeance.
The water churned violently in a forbidden trench known to old mariners as The Spiral Maw—a place where light didn't reach and screams never echoed back. The seabed cracked open, leaking black mist into the water like blood from an ancient wound.
And from it… rose something cursed.
Chains rattled against flesh, and barnacles peeled from armored skin. A towering figure stepped forward, dripping with rot, eyes like shattered glass swirling with tempest winds.
"Unseal protocol complete," muttered a voice in the deep. "Virell has awakened."
The sea around him groaned, as if remembering the crimes he'd committed long ago. Virell—once the Admiral of the Oceanic Vanguard, Poseidon's war general—was now something else. Something fouler. Twisted by betrayal, rage, and a pact with a forgotten sea entity known only as Threxil.
Wind howled from his chest cavity, rushing like a gale every time he breathed. His left arm was a fused cannon of coral and rusted bronze, still steaming with toxic pressure. The right? A jagged claw formed of hardened tideglass.
"Dominic... Aegirion…" Virell hissed the names like old rot in his mouth. "So the throne has chosen again."
He grinned—chipped teeth glinting like reef-blades.
"I'll reclaim what was stolen," he whispered. "And sink the traitor's blood into the trench that birthed me."
With a groan, his fortress of wreckage shifted—a drowned cathedral made of ship carcasses and sea bones, floating like a ghost town under the tides.
Suddenly, something approached from the darkness—fast, serpentine.
A voice rang out in shrieks.
"My Lord Virell! The sea sings again... Poseidon's heir has touched the Vault."
Virell turned, unblinking.
"Then it's time," he growled. "Summon the Leviadons. Ready the maelstorm wheels. If Dominic wants to wear that crown—he'll have to drown for it."
The messenger, a pale eel-like creature named Murr, hissed in excitement. "And what of the Queen?"
"Nearida?" Virell chuckled darkly. "I'll deal with her too. The sea's made fools of us all. It's time the tide took back what it gave."
He turned toward the black dome of his command chamber. Maps of sunken cities burned into the coral walls. Symbols only ancients could read glowed faintly—many of them were broken seals… ones Dominic hadn't found yet.
"Let the boy believe he's a god," Virell said, more to himself now. "Let him wander his dreams. But when I return... there will be no temples. No crowns. Only the roar of the sea swallowing his bones."
As he walked, the entire ocean bent slightly to his will—currents shifting, whirlpools forming unnaturally across far-off reefs.
Even the fish fled in silence.
The Damaged of Wind and Sea had set his sights on war.
---
Cutaway: Surface Watchers
Back in the Sunbreak Reaches, Queen Nearida stood before a massive crystal mirror. Her smile faltered. The waters had shifted.
Someone... something... was waking.
"The balance is crumbling," she whispered, tracing a finger across the mirror's surface. "That cursed Virell. He's alive."
One of her handmaidens stepped forward nervously. "Should we warn the boy?"
"No," she said flatly. "Let him find out on his own."
Her gaze darkened. "Let Dominic suffer. Only then will the sea truly crown him."
The water had grown colder.
Dominic could feel it in his veins—like the ocean itself had flinched.
He stood just outside the Vault's gate with Aegirion beside him, both of them staring at the massive spiral doors of the temple. The runes etched on them flickered strangely, as though reacting to something far away.
"Something's wrong," Dominic muttered.
Aegirion's expression darkened. "You felt it too."
The currents were no longer steady. A strange push-pull rhythm throbbed through the sea like a heartbeat gone wild. Even the fish were gone, hiding behind coral and seaweed as if sensing something monstrous moving.
Dominic looked at the Trident strapped to his back.
It was humming. Softly.
Not the usual gentle song of the ocean... this was a hum of resistance. Warning.
"What the hell is going on?" Dominic said.
Aegirion didn't answer at first. He stepped forward, placing his palm on the temple wall, letting his energy ripple outward.
He went still.
Then pale.
When he turned around, there was something in his eyes Dominic had never seen before.
Fear.
"I think he's awake," Aegirion whispered.
"Who?"
Aegirion took a shaky breath. "Virell."
That name was unfamiliar. But the way Aegirion said it made it sound like death itself had risen from the deep.
"You want to explain before I start punching things?" Dominic asked, half-serious, half-spooked.
"Virell was Poseidon's right hand," Aegirion said quietly. "A commander. A warlord. He controlled the wind and sea together. Stronger than any sea general before him. But he wanted the throne… and when Poseidon refused, he betrayed him. Killed thousands. We thought he was sealed in the Spiral Maw forever."
"But he's back?" Dominic asked.
Aegirion nodded. "And if the ocean's reacting like this... then he's already moving."
Dominic clenched his jaw. "So, another psycho with daddy issues wants me dead. Great."
He turned and looked back toward the way they'd come. The sea had shifted behind them. Even the shadows looked heavier, darker. Something about the water felt... hostile.
"He's hunting," Aegirion said. "Probably already sensed you touched the Vault. You're a beacon now."
"Then let him come," Dominic said, stepping closer to the edge of the temple cliffs. "I'm tired of running."
"No," Aegirion said firmly, grabbing his arm. "You don't understand. This isn't some underwater thug. This is the guy who almost took Poseidon down. And you're not Poseidon yet."
There was a pause.
Then Dominic's hand twitched.
"Then train me," he said.
Aegirion blinked. "What?"
"I'm tired of being one step behind," Dominic said. "If some sea zombie general wants to show up and end me, fine—but I'm not dying without putting a crack in his skull first."
Aegirion narrowed his eyes. "You really are his heir."
Dominic shrugged. "Let's just hope I don't die like he did."
Before Aegirion could answer, the sea howled.
The entire vault shook. Fissures cracked along the temple's edge. Water screamed through them like glass splitting. And in the distance—far off, miles away—a vortex began to churn in the sea.
A dark spiral.
Familiar only to the oldest of sea creatures.
The Spiral Maw was awakening.
---
Cutaway: The Spiral Maw
Beneath the churning vortex, in the black trench, Virell stood atop a pillar of bones and rusted armor.
His army—beasts fused with wreckage, sea mutants with blade fins and cannon mouths—were gathering.
He raised one claw and pointed north.
"Let the tide wash away the boy," he commanded. "Let him know the ocean has no kings. Only storms."
His laughter echoed through the deep.