Julian floated in the void.
At 20,000 feet, there is no up or down. There is only the crushing weight of the water—six hundred atmospheres pressing against the hull of his Abyssal Suit. The metal groaned softly, a constant reminder that a single hairline fracture would turn him into a red mist in milliseconds.
Ahead of him, illuminated by the floodlights of the distant White Raven, loomed the Stone Kings.
There were four of them. Colossal statues carved from basalt, standing a hundred feet tall, anchored to the cliffs surrounding the trench. They were shaped like ancient sea-gods, bearded and stern, each holding a massive trident made of a silvery metal that didn't rust.
The tridents were vibrating.
Thrummmmmm.
The sound wasn't audible—it was tactile. It shook the water molecules, creating the massive Hydro-Shield vortex in the center of the ring.
"I'm at the perimeter," Julian's voice crackled over the comms, distorted by the density of the water. "The current is strong. It's pushing me back."
"The sensors indicate the tridents are emitters," Skid reported. "They're creating a standing wave. A sonic wall. You can't just blow them up, Julian. If you destroy one, the dissonance will collapse the wave inward. The vortex will turn into a singularity and crush the ship."
"So I can't break them," Julian gritted his teeth, fighting the thrusters of his suit to move forward. "I have to tune them."
He looked at the tridents. They were giant tuning forks.
"I need to change the frequency," Julian said. "Harmonize them to zero."
The First King
Julian engaged his hydro-jets and shot toward the nearest statue. The closer he got, the louder the vibration became inside his suit. It felt like standing inside a church bell.
He landed on the statue's shoulder, his mag-boots clamping onto the stone.
He looked at the trident. It was huge, the prongs pulsing with blue energy. At the base of the trident, set into the stone hand, was a Resonance Node. A crystal interface.
"Okay," Julian whispered. "Let's change the channel."
He placed his left hand—the Resonance Gauntlet—onto the node.
Interface.
He felt the song of the statue. It was aggressive. A jagged, violent sawtooth wave designed to churn the water.
Smooth it out, Julian thought. Make it a sine wave.
He began to push a counter-frequency. The blue light on the trident flickered. The vibration slowed.
Suddenly, the statue's eyes opened.
They weren't stone. They were shutters. They slid back to reveal blinding white spotlights.
INTRUDER DETECTED.
A hatch on the statue's chest slid open.
Something emerged.
It wasn't a shark. It was a Siren.
A humanoid automaton, sleek and silver, shaped like a mermaid but made of polished chrome and flexible piping. It had no face, only a massive speaker-grille where a mouth should be.
It didn't swim with limbs; it moved by manipulating the water pressure around it, darting through the deep like a silver bullet.
"Julian! Contact!" Lyra shouted.
The Siren opened its speaker-mouth.
SCREEEEEEEEE.
It fired a Sonic Lance directly at Julian.
The sound hit him like a physical punch. His suit's shields flared. The HUD flickered red.
WARNING: STRUCTURAL INTEGRITY COMPROMISED.
Julian was blown off the statue's shoulder, tumbling into the open water.
"It's a weaponized echo!" Julian gasped, his ears ringing even through the helmet's dampeners.
The Siren pursued him. It moved with terrifying grace, circling him. It charged its mouth for another scream.
Julian stabilized his thrusters. "You want to sing? Fine."
He raised his gauntlet. He didn't use the Sonic Lance mode. He switched to the Acoustic Silver flute mode.
Focus: Feedback Loop.
As the Siren screamed again, Julian didn't block it. He caught the frequency with his gauntlet's receiver, amplified it, and fired it back instantly.
The two sound waves met in the water between them.
BOOM.
Constructive interference. The energy doubled.
The shockwave slammed into the Siren. Its sleek chrome casing dented. The delicate internal speakers shattered.
The Siren twitched, its propulsion failing. It drifted backward, leaking hydraulic fluid that looked like black ink.
"Everyone's a critic," Julian muttered.
He flew back to the statue. He grabbed the Resonance Node again.
"Skid, monitor the wave!"
Julian poured his power into the node. He forced the trident to stop vibrating aggressively. He smoothed the wave until it was a gentle, low hum.
The trident turned from blue to green.
The vortex in the center of the gate wobbled. One quarter of the shield destabilized.
"One down," Julian panted. "Three to go."
The Chorus
The other three statues woke up.
Three more Sirens emerged from their chests, streaking through the water toward him.
"Julian, you have company!" Isolde warned. "I'm bringing the Raven in to provide support!"
"No!" Julian yelled. "The vortex is unstable! If you get close, the shear will rip the hull apart! Stay back!"
He was alone against three of them.
They circled him, a school of silver killers. They didn't attack one by one. They harmonized.
All three opened their mouths. They began to emit a tri-tone chord. A dissonance so painful it began to crack the lens of Julian's helmet.
CRACK.
A hairline fracture appeared on his visor.
PRESSURE WARNING.
"I can't fight them," Julian realized. "They're too fast."
He looked at the statues. The other three tridents were still vibrating with the shield frequency.
The Sirens are connected to the statues. They are extensions of the song.
If I change the song... I change them.
Julian didn't fire at the Sirens. He turned and shot toward the Second Statue.
The Sirens chased him, firing sonic bolts that grazed his legs.
Julian slammed into the Second King's shoulder. He grabbed the node.
He didn't just tune it. He corrupted it.
He pushed the chaotic, raw energy of the Titan—the sound of the jungle, the volcano, the scrap heap—into the pristine Imperial mechanism.
Dissonance.
The trident flashed red. The signal became garbage data.
The Siren connected to that statue froze. It spasmed. Its programming crashed. It began to spin wildly in circles, attacking the water itself.
"Chaos works," Julian gritted his teeth.
He flew to the Third Statue. He did the same.
The second Siren malfunctioned, turning on the third Siren. The two machines began to tear each other apart in a frenzy of metal and bubbles.
Julian reached the Fourth Statue. The Last King.
He landed. He placed his hand on the node.
But this time, he didn't use chaos. He used Silence.
He remembered the mask. He remembered the Void.
Hush.
He drained the energy from the trident. He stopped the vibration entirely.
The trident went dark.
In the center of the gate, the massive Hydro-Shield vortex faltered. The walls of swirling water collapsed. The current died.
The way was open.
The Abyss
"Shield is down!" Skid cheered. "The Trench is open!"
Julian pushed off the statue, floating in the sudden calm. The debris of the destroyed Sirens drifted past him like glitter.
The White Raven glided forward, its floodlights cutting through the dark. The airlock cycled, and Julian was hauled back inside.
He removed his helmet, collapsing onto the deck. His nose was bleeding. His suit was covered in dents.
"You look like a crushed can," Lyra said, helping him up.
"The pressure," Julian wheezed. "It's heavy."
Isolde piloted the ship through the massive stone ring of the gate.
They descended into the Abyssal Trench.
The depth counter spooled rapidly. 25,000 feet. 30,000 feet.
At the very bottom of the world, a light appeared.
It wasn't bioluminescence. It was golden light.
They reached the sea floor. And there, resting in the silt, lay Titan 02: The Leviathan.
It was a submarine the size of a city, shaped like a colossal whale. But it wasn't just a machine.
Built along its massive back, protected by a shimmering bubble of air, was a city.
Atlantis? No. It was older.
Temples of gold and white marble. Towers of crystal. Gardens of coral.
"It's not just a Titan," Julian whispered, staring out the viewport. "It's an ark."
"But look," Isolde pointed.
The bubble around the city was flickering. The lights in the golden towers were dim.
And patrolling the water around the Titan were dozens of sleek, black submarines.
The Silence.
"They're here," Julian said. "The Empire didn't abandon the ocean. They colonized it."