Poseidon hovered still, facing the vast, ancient presence that had once been forgotten by time itself. The Leviathan—the First Depth—had not attacked.
It had asked.
> "Then show me."
Those words didn't echo in sound.
They vibrated through the currents, carved themselves into the water, and lingered in Poseidon's mind.
He lowered the Trident slightly.
> "You want to remember," Poseidon said softly.
The Leviathan coiled slightly, its form still an ever-shifting mass of memory and sea matter. Its single pale eye flickered, pulsing with a curiosity that felt ancient and childlike at once.
> "The sea has changed," it replied. "Its voice is broken. There are islands now. Sky-burners. Builders of iron. Gods who rule above. I do not understand what became of the water's will."
Poseidon inhaled deeply.
> "Then I'll take you back to where it started."
