As the sun pierced through the early morning mist, Markos stood at the edge of the drydock, staring down at the blackened hull of his test galley. The Sea Fire siphon had finally been calibrated, loaded, and mounted properly. Syrkas and Aureliu stood by with a torch, looking both proud and terrified.
"All right," Markos muttered, tightening the last bronze latch. "Let's see if hellfire remembers how to breathe."
With a prayer whispered in Greek and a nod from his two companions, the fire was lit.
The siphon burst forward with a deep, thunderous roar, and a long stream of burning liquid arced across the harbor, engulfing the floating target an old decommissioned fishing boat. The ship erupted in flame, the very sea around it bubbling and steaming, the infernal orange glow dancing across the morning waters. A cheer erupted from the engineers and soldiers nearby. The Sea Fire worked.
But as the celebration echoed across the port of Nafonia, a thunderous sound rolled from the north-west not from the sky, but deep below the sea.
The wind picked up sharply. A dark mass of clouds formed unnaturally fast over the Hollow Archipelagos. Nafonian sailors halted their duties, pointing out to sea. The water itself recoiled, currents reversing violently. Lightning crackled across the black heavens.
Then came the scream.
A monstrous bellow echoed from the depths, shaking the very port like an earthquake. Seabirds scattered in a panicked storm of feathers. The waters began to churn, and from the ocean beyond, a massive silhouette rose beneath the crashing waves. Spines, larger than masts, breached the surface first… then eyes, ancient and glowing blue like lost moons. The Leviathan of the Deep had awakened.
Markos stood frozen as the waves rocked the harbor. Even Syrkas and Aureliu fell silent.
The Council of Despots was quickly summoned to an emergency meeting within the capital, joined by envoys from the secretive Arcanum of Nafonia. Scholars and sea-priests confirmed the locals' worst fear the Leviathan was not a storm-borne tale. It was real. Ancient beyond reckoning. Bound beneath the Hollow Sea by forgotten rites. And now it was free.
The High Seer of the Arcanum, draped in black and silver, leaned forward with eyes full of dread.
"It bears the scent of forbidden rites… of old blood magic. This is the work of the Veil Order. Somehow, they've awakened it."
Valeria clenched her fists atop the council table. "Then it's war they want. And war they shall have."
Delia, standing quietly by the high window, turned her eyes toward the sea her expression unreadable.
Back at the port, Markos gave a final order to his engineers.
"Double the siphons. Reinforce the hulls. We may have fire, but we'll need more than flames to kill a god."
The Leviathan had returned.
In the cold silence of the Abyss, a tall figure in ash-colored robes knelt before the shadowed throne. The leader of the Veil Order, Aegareth, did not flinch as Scelestus emerged from the mist her presence heralded by curling violet smoke and an unnatural stillness that silenced the screaming echoes of the damned.
Scelestus:"So... the Veil dares return. You grovel before me again, Aegareth. I thought our last accord was your extinction."
Aegareth raised his hooded head, his voice confident despite the withering aura before him."We did not come to kneel. We came to offer what you once lost power, devotion... and vengeance."
Scelestus' eyes glowed a deep crimson. Her wings, gnarled and spectral, shimmered with old fire."Speak clearly, worm, before I tear the skin from your soul."
Aegareth held out a scroll, wrapped in chains forged from mortal oaths."A sacrifice. A pact. The blood of three arch-priests, drowned in the Hollow Sea at the altar of Ghalem's Maw. In exchange... the Leviathan stirs. It moves as you will it. The world has forgotten you, Scelestus. Let them remember what you are."
She walked forward, heels echoing against black stone. Her taloned fingers took the scroll. She did not read it she already knew its contents.
Scelestus:"And what makes you think I care for your wars, your petty ambitions? What makes you think I will obey?"
Aegareth smiled beneath his veil."Because you still watch him. The Blue Cuirassier walks again. You could destroy us or you could use us, as we use you. Let the Leviathan be your voice. Let the seas scream your name."
Scelestus paused. For a moment, the throne room flickered with visions Markos in Nafonia, Markos smiling, Markos bleeding, shouting orders. She clenched her jaw.
Scelestus:"...I do not need you. But I will use you."
She raised her hand, and in the Hollow Sea far above, the Leviathan's eyes opened fully for the first time in centuries.
Scelestus:"Awaken the deep. Let them fear the dark again."
Aegareth bowed."The sea is yours, Empress."
The pact was sealed. And as Scelestus returned to her obsidian seat, her thoughts lingered not on power but on him. The one who abandoned her. The one who now dines and laughs with mortal queens.
Under her breath, venomous and wistful, she whispered.
"You wore my cuirass once, Markos. Now let's see how long you last without it."
The sky above the Hollow Sea darkened unnaturally, clouds swirling like smoke over ash. Lightning crackled in sickly violet arcs. A deep, groaning sound echoed across the waves not thunder, but something alive.
From the eastern edge of the archipelagos, reports poured in. Fishing villages drowned in a single wave. Ports shattered. Livestock vanished. Men went mad from the sound of something ancient breathing beneath the sea.
The Leviathan was coming. And its course aimed directly at Nafonia.
In the Council Hall of Arcanum, mages stood in grim silence. The Arch-Despotes Valeria, dressed in her crimson naval cloak, slammed her hand on the table.
Valeria:"If it reaches the capital ports, Nafonia's fleet will be broken for a generation."
High Magister Ilas responded, folding his arms."Our stormcallers can slow it. Our runestones can divert its course. But to kill it? We are not gods."
Markos proposed it to face with the new prototype, Sea Fire, his Greek Fire.
Another noble scoffed."You propose to face it with fire? Fire won't burn on the water!"
Valeria remained silent, turning to the one figure who stood calm while all others whispered and doubted; Markos.
He stood near the large map of the archipelagos, now with sea routes scribbled over in charcoal and ink. His cuirass was replaced with his worn lamellar armor, soot-smudged and oil-scented. He pointed to a narrow strait the Throat of Raedon between two islands.
Markos: "We lure it here. My ships. My siphon. The fire will burn even in water. If the winds favor us, we strike it mid-breach."
A silence.
A voice muttered, "And if it doesn't work?"
Markos smirked."Pray to whatever Gods, we will need all of it."
Valeria rose from her seat."I approve it. Give him everything."
Some council members burst into protest."This is madness! Unproven! You'd risk the fleet-!"
Valeria's voice was firm, cold as iron."I'd risk nothing. I believe in him."
From the shadows, Delia watched. Her face was expressionless. But deep within, her jealousy burned. She alone knew that Markos once wore the blue cuirass for her, not this mortal woman.
Later, at the Docks of Nafonia,
The Nafonian ships were sleek, many newly constructed. The central galley was unlike the others heavily reinforced, barrels strapped to the side, and a strange bronze siphon fixed like a cannon to its deck.
Markos, standing atop it, oversaw his men. Engineers from Nafonia, his old Varangian-taught skoutatoi, and even peasants who'd volunteered.
Syrkas, arms covered in bandages from a past burn, grinned."You sure this'll not explode again, blue boss?"
Aureliu, holding the ignition stone, smirked."If it does, I call dibs on your armor."
Markos laughed, gripping the side of the weapon."Enough talk. Load the resin. Feed the copper tube. And pray. If this works, we make history. If not... tell Christ I did try."
Behind him, Valeria stood at the dock's edge, hands folded, watching him.
And far away, hidden behind towers, Delia, her hair loose and her eyes glowing faintly red.
The storm grew. The waters churned.
The Leviathan was coming.
And so was his Greek Fire.
The Hollow Sea roared beneath a blackened sky as the Nafonian fleet pushed through the Throat of Raedon, winds howling and salt biting the decks. Above the waves, seagulls cried then silence.
It came like an omen.
Aureliu stood near the ignition lever, eyes squinting toward the fog."Too quiet," he muttered.
Markos narrowed his eyes. He recognized the stillness. The same eerie stillness before the Latin betrayal of Constantinople. His knuckles tensed on the side of the railing.
Then, like phantoms, ships emerged from the mist long black galleys with pale sails, crimson veils fluttering like blood-soaked banners.
The Veil Order had arrived.
"They'll cut us off," barked Syrkas, peering through a bronze scope. "We won't make it to the Throat."
Markos didn't flinch."We don't need the whole fleet to get there just me and the weapon."
He turned to Syrkas, voice steady and commanding."You'll take the eastern flank. Five Nafonian ships under your command the Skorpios II ready and primed. Hold them back, break their line, do not let them flank the others."
Syrkas blinked."You're giving me command?"
Markos smirked."You have a mouth like a war drum, and a spirit that scares even the wind. Earn it."
Syrkas gave a mock salute, grinning."I'll drag their corpses to the sea floor, Strategos."
Then he was gone, boarding his temporary ship the Hammerwake as he led his small fleet eastward, the bronze heads of Skorpios II gleaming on their prows like dragons.
Markos and Aureliu remained aboard the Phocas, his reinforced war galley that he used in the past, distinct for the thick plates around its siphon weapon.
Aureliu loaded the resin and sulfurous mix, checking the trigger lines."Your plan better work. I'm too young to drown."
Markos adjusted his lamellar armor, tying his sash tight."We're both too young, I haven't kissed a woman yet. That's why we'll cheat death."
Suddenly, black sails broke the fog again the Veil and some Pazzonian ships, aiming directly for Phocas.
Aureliu swore."They're coming right for us."
Markos grinned.
"Let them. They want a fight, I will let them taste the might of Rome."
Elsewhere, from a floating tower that shimmered above the mist, Scelestus watched through a crystal orb. Her lips curved faintly.
"So… my blue cuirassier chooses fire over shadow."
A voice behind her rasped like cloth torn over bone."Their fire won't reach the depths or even harm our pawn, mistress. The Leviathan will not be stopped."
But Scelestus' gaze lingered on Markos' face within the orb. Her fingers trembled slightly with anger… or something else.
"He mustn't die yet, we will just give him a little lesson for depending much on the mortals."
She turned away.
"Ready the deepward call. We'll drown them after they've tasted hope."