The ocean rumbled again.
This time, deeper. Not like a quake—more like a heartbeat. One that didn't belong in this world.
Dominic hovered near the mirror shard, still shaken from what he saw. His future self. Aegirion by his side. It didn't feel like a prophecy—it felt like a warning.
Aegirion suddenly stiffened. His hand shot out, pressing against the coral wall. "We have to go. Now."
"What is it?" Dominic asked.
Aegirion's voice was tight. "Aether-pulse. Old magic. It's not the siren—it's something else."
The trench behind them began to glow—a faint red light, like blood in water.
Then came the voice.
> "Shadow of the King. Traitor of the Deep. Your time is up."
Dominic turned.
A figure stepped from the glow—tall, armored in storm-forged metal, his hair flowing like seaweed torn in a cyclone. A long scar ran across his face, and in his hand was a blade made of broken coral and lightning.
Tyros, the Abyssal Judge.
"I thought he was dead," Aegirion whispered.
Tyros stepped closer. "I was. You left me there."
Aegirion raised his trident.
"No time for this, Dominic. Run."
But Dominic didn't move. "We fight together."
Aegirion gave him a rare smile. "You're stubborn. Just like he was."
Without another word, he surged forward, clashing with Tyros mid-water. Sparks and water pressure exploded between them.
Dominic watched, frozen. The current was too thick to swim through now—too much power.
Every strike from Tyros cracked the trench walls.
Aegirion held his own, swift and precise. But Tyros was relentless.
"You chose him," Tyros roared. "You always pick the weak!"
"He's not weak!" Aegirion shouted, spinning low and slicing at the Judge's leg.
But Tyros didn't flinch. He grabbed Aegirion mid-spin and drove him hard into the ocean floor.
"He's not a king. He's a boy. A puppet. And you… are still a shadow."
Dominic yelled, pushing forward, but a sudden wall of energy threw him back.
"No!" he screamed. "Aegirion—!"
Aegirion coughed, blood in his mouth. He looked up at Dominic, eyes fierce.
> "Don't come closer. You have to survive."
Tyros lifted his blade.
"Any last words, Shadow?"
Aegirion looked at Dominic one last time.
"…Protect the tide."
The blade fell.
The ocean split with light.
Dominic screamed.
But it was too late.
When the glow faded, Aegirion's body floated downward—lifeless. Silent.
Tyros didn't stay. With a flash of light, he vanished—leaving nothing but a pulse of pressure that cracked the coral walls.
Dominic swam forward, trembling. He caught Aegirion's body, cradling it in the water.
"No… no no no."
A pulse echoed in his chest. The Trident trembled.
And from somewhere above—
A voice.
Soft. Feminine. Cold.
> "It begins."
Silence.
It swallowed everything.
No currents, no sea songs, no creatures. Just Dominic, drifting in the water, holding what was left of Aegirion.
His mentor. His shield. His friend.
Now just a husk.
A broken piece of sea-glass floating in the deep.
Dominic's fingers were clenched around the trident. It buzzed quietly, like it knew something was wrong. Like it was mourning.
He barely blinked. Barely breathed.
In front of him was a mess—cracked coral, torn kelp, glowing veins of magic still pulsing from Tyros' violent exit. But Dominic didn't look at any of it.
He just stared at Aegirion's body.
"Why…" he whispered, the words barely escaping.
A bubble escaped his mouth.
"Why did you jump in front of me?"
The ocean didn't answer.
Then, quietly, he felt it—a cold ripple across his back. Not a threat, but a presence.
He turned.
The siren.
Not the one from before—this was different. This one was glowing faintly, her long blue hair swaying behind her like it was part of the current. Her eyes… weren't cruel. Just… ancient.
She said nothing, just drifted forward and looked down at Aegirion.
Dominic tensed. "You part of this?"
She shook her head.
Her voice was almost a whisper. "That blade... was not of this sea."
Dominic gritted his teeth. "He called him Tyros. The Abyssal Judge."
The siren slowly nodded. "One of the Lost Four. Banished. Forgotten. But vengeance always finds its way."
Dominic's grip tightened on the trident. His throat ached. Everything ached.
"I trusted him," he said. "I didn't even understand him most of the time. But I trusted him."
The siren looked at him for a moment longer.
Then she turned to leave—but stopped.
"You are not ready for revenge," she said. "Not yet. But the ocean… it's shifting. Something woke up when he died."
Dominic blinked. "What do you mean?"
She pointed upward. "A storm brews at the surface. Not just weather. Blood. Gods. War."
She turned, fading into the deep shadows. "You must choose what part of you to bury—and what part to awaken."
Then she was gone.
Dominic stayed there for what felt like hours.
He let Aegirion's body drift upward, his hand lingering a second longer before letting go.
> "You were right. I don't get it yet... but I will."
The trident pulsed in his hand.
And then—
The vault wall cracked.
Light poured in from the side as a hidden door groaned open.
Inside?
A chamber of flowing memories. A tide-pool of visions. A throne… broken in half.
And scrawled on the shattered stone, in old Poseidon glyphs:
> He who sits must drown before he can breathe.
Dominic stared at the throne.
He stepped forward.
---
Cut to Another Location – Nearida's Chamber
Storms twisted outside the obsidian towers.
Queen Nearida stood before a wide mirror of dark water. She was cloaked in scales, eyes glowing with faint purple light, and beside her was a figure in silver robes.
A Watcher.
"He's starting to awaken," she said.
The Watcher spoke with a voice that wasn't quite male or female. "Aegirion is dead. Tyros played his part."
She narrowed her eyes. "Dominic still holds the trident."
"Yes. But grief opens cracks. And cracks lead to doors."
She turned from the mirror.
"Send word to the Leviathan. We move on the Vault."
A sudden laugh was heard