Heat pulsed against my scales like a second heartbeat. Every time the Lithari commander vented from its triple cores, the water thinned and tasted of metal, robbing each breath of strength. I forced a careful pull through aching gills. The pearl at my chest flickered weakly, as if warning it could steady me only once more before failing.
Yera planted her spear into fractured basalt and signaled positions with sharp hand gestures. Four Watchers locked shields and four Exile scouts raised mirrored panes beside them. The tension between our lines felt like a taut current, but no one spoke it aloud. Behind us, Rejah swept her rune reader over a mound of rubble, her fingers trembling with urgency.
The commander's chest light swelled from ember to deep crimson. The glow stained the water, bending it into waves of heat. After three heartbeats the brightness dimmed, vents coughing dust and steam. Veshra drifted near, voice low, "Count the pulses. Three, then he cools."
I tapped two fingers on my thigh, matching the rhythm. One, two, three. The water eased slightly, the temperature dropping just enough to notice.
"Now," Yera barked. She lunged forward, spear flashing silver. The Watcher wall glided with her, and the Exile shields overlapped theirs, forming a single front.
The commander slammed a gauntlet down. A wave of shattered rock struck our shields, shards biting even through the spiral current I cast to bend debris away. Copper bloomed on my tongue. Darun roared and rushed, but an earth spike exploded from the commander's other fist, hurling him back. I lunged, guiding a small current to catch his fall and slow it before shards could gut him. The pearl dimmed another shade, almost dark.
"Hold the line," Yera shouted, bracing her spear against a crushing swing. Metal screamed across coral. Veshra darted in, her mirrored shield scattering targeting runes so Yera could twist free. Another armor plate cracked under the strain. The commander's strength was immense, yet with each burst its body fractured further.
A glyph blinked on Rejah's slate. She signaled with urgent hands, "Feeder line under rubble. Sever it and he falls." I looked to where she pointed, spotting a faint orange seam pulsing weakly. One clean slice would end its recharge. It would demand absolute precision.
I pressed the pearl under my breastplate. It gave one cool pulse, steadying the tremor in my hands, though its light thinned to a dim ribbon.
"Yera," I said, breath ragged, "draw him left. Expose the seam."
She nodded, eyes hard, and feinted at his hip. The commander pivoted, cores flaring bright, vents opening wide. Heat sheeted out, but gaps in the armor yawned open.
Three heartbeats. I counted them in my chest. On the third, I shaped a filament, slender and clear, threading through boiling water and debris. Veshra angled her shield to send a reflected beam into the giant's vents. The armor jerked open a fraction. My filament slipped through, cutting into the glowing vein beneath the rubble.
Stone hissed. Light in the line winked out, and water rushed into the gap with a hollow roar. The commander's cores guttered, their glow dulling to rust. Armor plates sagged and cracked. My strength drained with the filament, vision blurring. The pearl went completely dark.
Darun's shadow swept past me, his spear steady and bright. He drove it deep into the fracture splitting the commander's chest. Cracks spread like lightning, and the giant folded forward, its armor grinding until the noise fell silent. The body sank to the floor with a final groan.
Quiet settled over the chamber, thick and strange. Even the Ember Veins seemed to stop moving.
Rejah's rune reader pulsed calm green. "Drills are dormant," she said, voice trembling. "The lines are dead." The words echoed through the chamber, a whisper that grew into relief. I let out a slow breath, but the weight of loss pressed harder than victory.
The Shellguard who had shielded Rilan knelt over her still form. Her cloak drifted around her, stained dark. He tried to take the coral shard from her hand, but her fingers were locked. I drifted close and touched his shoulder. "She wanted you to keep that," I said softly.
He looked up, eyes shining. "For the reef," he whispered.
"For all of us," I answered. Gently, he unclasped her hand, lifting the shard as though it were sacred, then crossed her arms over her chest. Watchers and Exiles bowed their heads together in silence.
We rose slowly, following Veshra's mirrored markers. Each meter the water cooled, oxygen thickened, but fatigue pulled at every fin stroke. Halfway up the shaft, a hush fell over us. A faint violet glow pulsed far below, soft as a distant star, then vanished into darkness. It was no drill flare. Cold rippled along my veins, but there was no strength left to dwell on it.
Yera drifted close, voice rough. "You saw it too."
"I did," I said quietly. "But not today."
The last stretch carried us through fractured basalt into the reef's embrace. Blue beacons shimmered overhead. When we crested the ridge, healers swarmed forward, their hands guiding us into safety. Cheers mixed with sobs. My spear slipped from numb fingers, clattering against coral. I no longer had the strength to hold it.
The memorial happened without command. The Shellguard placed Rilan's coral shard into a small crevice where currents would brush it forever. Exile scouts pressed palms to their hearts. Watchers tapped the butts of their spears against stone. The shard glowed faint pink, catching the beacon light. I whispered a promise under my breath, a vow her sacrifice would echo in every waterway of the reef.
Healer-binders guided me into a cradle filled with cool mint-salve. Relief washed through my gills, easing the ache. The pearl against my chest was dull slate, but it pulsed once, faintly, like it would mend. I rested my head back, eyes closing as voices blurred into the gentle hum of water.
The reef lived. That was enough. For now.