The rain had changed.
It no longer fell with the weary rhythm of grief—it drummed like a call to arms. The waves rolled faster, the air thick with salt and static. Stormlight flickered along the horizon, where the shell had told them to go.
Skuld adjusted the sail of the small outrigger canoe they'd borrowed from the villagers, her eyes scanning the shifting clouds. "East. The storm's moving faster than I thought."
Kurai lounged near the stern, one leg crossed, her cloak coiling lazily like smoke. "Storms don't move in such an erratic pattern. At least I don't believe they do."
"That's comforting."
"It's realistic."
Skuld gave her a sidelong look, but the corner of her mouth tugged upward. "You'd be terrible at pep talks."
"I don't do pep. Now, hurry up, I'd like to get some results."
They sailed in near silence for a time, save for the hum of the ocean and the clatter of rain on wood. Then, far off, they spotted another canoe—three islanders rowing toward a larger reef where nets floated half-torn.
Skuld steered closer. "Let's ask if they've seen anything strange."
"Besides us?" Kurai muttered.
The men on the reef stiffened as the women approached. One of them—a younger man with a necklace of shark teeth—raised a hand in greeting but didn't smile. "Travelers shouldn't go east," he warned. "That's the storm's eye."
Skuld leaned forward. "Do you know what's causing it?"
The man hesitated, then gestured to the horizon. "The thief of the gods. The one who brought the sea's curse."
Kurai crossed her arms. "You mean Maui."
The name made the other villagers flinch. One older man spat into the water for luck. "Don't speak it so loudly," he hissed. "The ocean hears."
"Good," Kurai said dryly. "That means we're on the right track. Let's beat him and drag him along so he can show us where the heart is."
Skuld shot her a warning look, then smiled at the men. "We're not here to fight. We're trying to understand what's happening. Maybe even help fix it."
"You can't fix what a god broke," the younger man said. "Maui took the Heart of Te Fiti. The goddess fell asleep, and rage and fire took her place."
"You're such an understanding person, you know that." Skuld echoed sarcastically.
The man nodded toward the east. "That's not thunder you hear. It's the fury of the world. I would turn back if I were you."
Kurai's gaze darkened. "Then I assume that place will be filled with heartless. How bothersome."
They thanked the men and continued on. The sea around them began to change—patches of glowing green water appeared, warm and strangely still. Beneath the surface, Skuld glimpsed wreckage: canoes, statues, even carved idols swallowed by coral.
"This place feels like it's remembering everything it's ever lost," she murmured.
Kurai brushed her fingers across the surface. "Memories rot slower than flesh. That's why the sea keeps them."
The wind shifted suddenly. The water ahead shimmered, and the outline of an island began to take shape—a jagged silhouette rising from the mist, its cliffs glowing faintly like molten glass. Black plumes curled from its peak, forming clouds that bled lightning into the sea.
Skuld whispered, "Te Kā's island."
Kurai's tone was cool. "Soon to be her grave."
As they drew closer, the current changed—slowing, pulling, almost listening. Faint singing echoed under the waves again, but this time it wasn't melodic. It was low and strained, like the world itself humming through clenched teeth.
Kurai looked over the edge. "Something's down there."
Skuld gripped the sail tighter. "We'll check it after we dock. I don't want to risk—"
Her words cut off as the canoe jolted violently. Dark tendrils of coral and debris shot up from the sea, coiling around the hull. Skuld raised her keyblade instantly, slashing through one. The fragments hit the deck and turned to black water.
Heartless.
They erupted from the water—Rainborns, small and countless, droplets taking humanoid form. Each one glowed faintly blue, their bodies made entirely of stormwater. The moment Skuld struck one down, two more formed from the rain.
Kurai groaned. "Endless. Wonderful. Use fire to burn them away."
She spun, her shadows spiraling outward in a crescent slash of Dark Firaga, evaporating the Rainborns into mist. But for every one she felled, the sky wept harder, birthing more.
"They're reacting to our negative emotion!" Skuld shouted. "The more we fight, the more they come!"
"Then stop feeling and start killing!"
Skuld inhaled, then lifted her keyblade above her head. "Fine."
A circle of light burst outward, forming a dome that shimmered over the canoe. The rain hit it—and vanished, burning away in a hiss of steam. The Rainborns shrieked as they melted into puddles, their voices echoing briefly before fading into the sea.
The silence afterward was suffocating.
Kurai lowered her blade. "Not bad."
"Not as bad as your attitude. I think you're what drawing the heartless here to us," Skuld said breathlessly.
Kurai smirked. "Really, I've never had an issue with my attitude before."
Hours later, they reached the island's outer reef. The canoe scraped against black sand, the beach glistening like cooled obsidian. Steam rose where the rain met the ground.
"Smells like sulfur," Skuld said, wrinkling her nose.
"Smells like a volcano and death," Kurai replied. "Something big died here. I can sense the grief."
They climbed the ridge overlooking the sea. From there, they could see the crater—vast and hollow, filled with molten water that glowed faint green at its depths. Lightning struck within the crater itself, looping endlessly in place.
Skuld's hand tightened on her keyblade. "The Heart's energy is still here."
"What's left of it," Kurai muttered. She crouched, tracing a clawed finger across the ashen soil. "Someone's been here recently. Look."
Footprints—large, deep, and distinctly human—led from the crater's edge into the jungle beyond.
Skuld's pulse quickened. "Then Maui's alive."
Kurai straightened, eyes narrowing. "Alive, reckless, and probably stupid. Just the kind of man that's easy to use."
"Don't start," Skuld said.
"Wasn't planning to. Yet."
Thunder cracked overhead, shaking the ground. The rain began again—not soft, not gentle. Each drop hissed like burning oil when it hit the rocks.
Kurai turned toward the jungle path. "Let's find the thief."
Skuld nodded, clutching the shell still glowing faintly at her belt. Its pulse matched her own heartbeat.
Far above, lightning forked across the sky in the shape of a spiral. The sea answered with a low rumble.