The vault was colder now.
Not the kind of cold that touched skin—this one crept into Dominic's chest. Into his bones. Like something ancient had just turned its eye on him.
The door behind him sealed itself with a slow, grinding hum.
He was alone again.
Just him… and the throne.
The chamber wasn't large. It curved like a seashell, the walls glowing with shifting patterns of light and memory. Ghostly images flickered across the coral-carved surfaces—battles, councils, storms. Things he couldn't quite grasp.
But the throne…
It wasn't grand. It was jagged. Broken down the middle, like it had been cracked by lightning. The left half was still solid, rising like a wave frozen mid-crash. The right… shattered, rusted with old blood.
Dominic stepped toward it.
Each step echoed strangely, like the vault wasn't sure he belonged.
The glyphs shimmered as he passed, whispering words in a language only the Trident seemed to understand. It pulsed faintly in his hand, guiding him like a heartbeat.
Then he stood before the throne.
Up close, it felt… alive. Like it breathed. Like it remembered him.
Dominic touched the armrest.
A jolt ran through his palm. His eyes widened—and suddenly—
He was underwater.
But not here.
Not now.
---
Flashback – Poseidon's Memory
It wasn't a vision—it felt real. Dominic was looking through someone else's eyes.
Through his eyes.
Poseidon.
He stood on a vast cliff of coral overlooking a city beneath the waves. Towering spires, roads of glowing shells, and thousands of sea dwellers watching from below.
And standing beside him—
Was Nearida.
She was different then. Her hair was silver. Her eyes softer. But her voice…
"You can't keep protecting them," she said.
Poseidon—Dominic—spoke, but the voice wasn't his. It was deeper, heavier.
"I protect the balance."
"They worship you. They'll destroy everything for you."
"They believe. That is not the same as war."
She stepped closer.
"They'll make it the same."
He looked down at her, unreadable.
"Then I will drown the ones who do."
She flinched.
And the vision shattered.
---
Back in the Vault
Dominic gasped, stumbling back. The throne's glow faded.
The room was silent again.
But his heart wasn't.
He stared at the seat of power. The memories burned in his mind.
"Nearida was… close to him."
The trident trembled in his hand.
"She betrayed him."
Suddenly, a soft voice behind him.
"She didn't start out that way."
Dominic spun, raising the Trident.
But it wasn't a threat.
It was the Siren again.
Same glowing eyes. Same quiet sadness.
"She loved Poseidon," she said. "And he loved her. Once."
Dominic lowered the trident. "Why are you here?"
"I guard the vault," she said. "And you… you triggered the Throne."
Dominic's chest tightened. "What is it?"
"A mirror," she said. "To awaken a memory… is to invite it into yourself."
He shook his head. "That wasn't a memory. That was a warning."
She stepped closer.
"Not all warnings come from the enemy."
He frowned. "Then what do you call what she's doing now?"
The siren hesitated.
"Something worse than betrayal."
Dominic narrowed his eyes.
"I need to know what Tyros was after. I need to know why Aegirion died."
The siren nodded toward the throne.
"Then sit."
Dominic blinked.
"What?"
"Sit," she said again. "Only the throne knows the whole truth."
He looked at the jagged stone. It didn't feel like an invitation. It felt like a test.
He moved closer.
Paused.
And slowly, lowered himself into the seat.
---
Cut to the Surface – Stormfront Citadel
Queen Nearida stood on the balcony of her floating fortress. Lightning danced behind her.
In the distance, a silhouette approached—massive, armored in bone and black metal.
The Leviathan General.
Nearida didn't smile, but her eyes glinted.
"He's touched the throne."
The General's voice was like grinding stone. "Then it begins."
"Prepare the fleet," she said coldly. "I want the temple surrounded by dusk."
"And the Trident?"
Her eyes darkened.
"Break him, then bring it to me."
Silence.
The kind that settles heavy, like pressure deep under the ocean.
Dominic sat stiff on the broken throne, every nerve alert, every breath careful. His fingers gripped the Trident tighter than he realized. Its edge hummed softly… waiting.
At first, nothing happened.
Then—
A pulse.
Not from the throne. From within.
He flinched. His vision blurred.
Another pulse—deeper this time, like a slow heartbeat echoing through the vault.
Thump.
The glyphs on the throne flared with a cold blue glow. The cracks in the stone flickered. The coral walls pulsed with ripples of light—like the ocean itself was reacting.
Dominic's eyes widened.
His pupils turned faintly silver.
The throne spoke. Not with words—but with memories. With instinct.
Suddenly, the walls weren't walls anymore.
The vault vanished.
Dominic stood in an open ocean, stars swirling overhead, the waves whispering like voices in a crowd.
He wasn't just seeing this.
He was in it.
---
Inside the Sea of Memory
Thousands of voices whispered across the waves.
Lost kings. Forgotten beasts. Deep gods.
They circled him, faceless and weightless, made of starlight and water.
One stepped forward.
No eyes. No face. Just an ancient presence.
"You took the throne."
Dominic nodded, unsure if he was even real here.
"You carry the mark," the voice said.
The water trembled.
"But the sea does not serve. It remembers. And it chooses."
The stars above twisted, spiraling downward like a whirlpool.
A massive shadow moved beneath the surface.
Dominic's breath caught.
Something was waking.
A presence, old and cruel and wise.
A god's rage, buried for centuries.
"You woke it," the voice said. "Poseidon's wrath. Not just his power… his curse."
The water surged around him, glowing symbols wrapping around his arms, crawling across his skin like ink come to life.
Pain lanced through him. He clutched his chest.
His heartbeat slammed.
The Trident in his grip turned black for a moment—then blazed gold.
The voice boomed again.
"If you sit on the Drowned Throne, you don't just inherit his might…"
A vast golden eye opened beneath him in the sea.
"You inherit everything."
---
Vault – Reality Returns
Dominic jolted upright, gasping.
He was still in the vault—but something had changed.
The throne beneath him had shifted. Its right side—previously broken—was now whole. Restored. Glowing faintly.
The room had reshaped around him. Symbols hovered in the air, shimmering like jellyfish.
And the Siren?
She was kneeling now. Head bowed low.
Dominic stood slowly, his body shaking.
His veins pulsed with light. The Trident no longer hummed—it sang, vibrating through the air with a soft, terrifying clarity.
"I saw it," Dominic said quietly.
The Siren looked up. "What did you awaken?"
He looked at her, eyes wide, the glow in his pupils fading slowly.
"I don't know."
"But it's alive."
---
Cut to: Stormfront Citadel – The Queen's Chamber
A tremor ran through the water. Every mirror, every glass orb in Nearida's room shattered at once.
The queen whipped around.
Blood dripped from her hand where a shard had cut her.
Her advisors panicked—but she raised a hand.
"Silence."
She stared into the broken mirror.
"…He's awakened it."
The Leviathan General appeared behind her.
"Do we strike?"
She didn't answer at first.
Then, calmly—
"No."
"We wait."
The Leviathan narrowed his eyes. "Why?"
"Because if he's truly unlocked the Throne," she whispered, wiping the blood with a smile, "then the real war hasn't begun yet."
She turned to him, eyes glowing faintly.
"It's not about the Trident anymore."
"It's about what's inside him."
---
Back to the Vault
Dominic stood, staring at his reflection in the water pooling around the throne.
He looked the same.
But he felt different.
Something inside him—Poseidon's legacy—was no longer asleep.
And it wasn't asking for permission.
It wanted out.