Long since passed, the storm left the Horizon's Call floating in seas now thick with anticipatory quiet. All the other tests—the roaring storms, the unyielding deep's wrath, and the unbreakable ties created in the furnace of destiny—had brought about this one.
Every crew member could feel the weight of history and fate pressing in as the ship sailed toward the unexplored area known only in whispered mythology as the Abyssal Verge.
Vast and unknowable, the water seemed to throb with an ancient heartbeat, a rhythm that spoke of both creation and judgment.
At the front, Seraphine gazed into the deep blackness. The morning had not yet completely broken; a spectral twilight hung in the sky, and the sole light emanated from the sporadic shine of bioluminescent life under the surface.
