The silence lingered long after the Lanternshrouds vanished.
Only the pulse of the trench remained—slow, deep, unrelenting. The faint green light shimmered over their armor, painting Skuld in silver-blue and Kurai in violet shadow.
Skuld drifted in place, her keyblade vanishing from her hand. "You heard Helios."
Kurai's gaze didn't move from the chasm below. "Don't ask me what it said."
"I wasn't going to," Skuld said softly. "But it… bothers you."
"Everything bothers me." Kurai's tone was too sharp to be casual. "Especially heartless that try to mess with my mind."
The water stirred again, gentle this time, like the sea itself breathing. It carried a melody—not words, but rhythm. Notes rose and fell with the currents, echoing through the coral ruins. Skuld turned toward it instinctively.
"It's beautiful," she whispered.
"It's bait," Kurai replied. "Don't fall for it."
"It's not trying to trick us. Listen—doesn't it sound gentle?"
Kurai exhaled through her nose. "You're hearing what you want to hear. God, I hate this world."
They followed the melody downward, descending through narrow coral corridors glowing faintly green. The walls looked carved, but by something living, not human—each ridge flowed like a wave captured mid-motion. Tiny luminous fish darted past, weaving patterns in the dark.
The passage opened into a vast chamber beneath the reef.
A sphere of light hovered at the center—an orb of water suspended within water, swirling with tiny motes of memory. Images flickered across its surface: people building, praying, laughing. Then storms. Fire. Darkness.
"I wonder if the ocean's remembering," Skuld said. "It's showing us what happened when the Heart was stolen."
Kurai circled the sphere slowly. "Or it's showing us what it wants us to see."
Within the orb, they saw a man-like figure—tattooed, powerful, laughing as he held up a glowing green stone. The same stone that pulsed faintly in the Heart's echo around them.
Maui.
"So the legends were true," Skuld murmured. "This is a memory of when he stole it."
The sphere shifted again, now showing the Heart's energy exploding outward, waves rising high enough to reach the stars. Then the image warped—the laughter turning into screams as the sea blackened, birthing shadows shaped like fire and sorrow.
When the vision faded, Kurai folded her arms. "Charming. A thief, a goddess, and a world-ending terror."
"Don't mock it," Skuld said. "This world must feel pain like we do."
"Then it should've learned to protect itself from people."
Skuld frowned at her. "That's a cruel thing to say."
"It's a truthful thing to say."
As they turned to leave, the melody changed. The orb pulsed faster, and suddenly the water around them turned mirror-smooth. Skuld saw her own reflection staring back—but its eyes glowed faintly green.
"Kurai…" she whispered.
Her reflection smiled. "You think you can save everything, Skuld. But every world you touch falls faster. You're nothing but a little girl scared to be alone. But we were always alone and abandoned by everyone. First, Helios, then Lea, and soon Aqua."
Kurai's reflection spoke next, her voice layered with echo. "And you—always pretending you don't care. But we lost to light and are destined to lose. We will fail in the end."
The water shattered like glass. Dozens of reflections surrounded them—Skuld's, Kurai's, and even flickers of Helios, Aqua, and Moana. Each whispered fragments of doubt.
Skuld tried to dispel the illusion, but her magic only created more ripples—more versions of herself. "They're feeding on us!"
Kurai looked at her reflections with a bored look, shadows flaring. "Then stop feeling. This is a rather pathetic trick."
She slashed through one reflection—it burst into motes of light that stung her arm, leaving behind faint green markings.
"Your darkness can't cut emotion," Skuld said. "Only acceptance can."
"Oh, it's that easy?" Kurai snapped. "Nothing you say will affect me. I have no fears for you to feed on." This destroyed her reflections instantly.
Skuld closed her eyes. She exhaled slowly, syncing her breathing with the ocean's rhythm—the same steady beat as the rain above. Her keyblade glowed faintly, in resonance with her heart. The reflections stilled, their whispers turning into one unified tone, like a chorus of rain.
Then, quietly, they dissolved.
When silence returned, the orb of memory dimmed and faded. In its place drifted a single shell, carved with spiral symbols.
Skuld caught it carefully. "It's warm."
Kurai eyed it warily. "Artifacts that glow and hum tend to explode."
"It's humming in a major key," Skuld said with a small smile. "That's usually a good sign. Maybe it'll explode, here catch."
Kurai caught it as she sighed and threw it back. "You really are an insufferable little girl."
"It's called having fun. Try it sometime. You may enjoy it."
Skuld lifted the shell to her ear, half-jokingly—and froze.
A voice spoke softly from within, not in words, but emotion.
"…listen… east… storm…"
She lowered it, her expression tightening. "It's guiding us east, to where the storms are gathering."
"To the area said to be Te Kā's domain," Kurai concluded. "Convenient."
"Maybe the ocean wants us to find it or something else over there."
"Or maybe it's sending us to die. That's always a possibility."
Either way, the path was set.
They swam upward through the ruins, the song fading behind them but its rhythm echoing in their hearts.
As they neared the surface, Skuld glanced back one last time. The orb of memory had reformed—but now it glowed faintly violet, pulsing with new energy. Kurai noticed too, frowning.
"That's not supposed to happen."
"No," Skuld agreed. "But it's beautiful."
"Beautiful things then to kill."
Skuld sighed. "We'd better move fast."
They broke the surface together, rain cascading down in silver sheets. The horizon shimmered with lightning far to the east—each flash outlining the faint shape of an island rising from the mist.
"The ocean's leading us there," Skuld said.
Kurai crossed her arms. "I don't like being led."
"I know," Skuld said quietly. "But sometimes, following is how you find what you're meant to change."
Kurai glanced at her, unreadable. Then she smirked. "You talk too much."
"And you brood too well," Skuld shot back.
Despite herself, Kurai almost smiled. The sea between them rippled gently, as if laughing with them.