The sea was black.
Not the black of night, but of pressure. Of weight. Of history too deep to rise again.
Lyrius stood on the edge of a cliff overlooking the churning waters that had once swallowed the Kingdom of Myrrn. Behind him, Kaelria adjusted the breathing glyphs stitched into her gauntlet.
"Last chance to turn back," she said, her voice low.
He didn't answer.
He stepped off the edge.
They descended in silence, Essence forming a protective aura around their bodies as the water crushed in from all sides. Down here, sound died quickly. Light died quicker.
The ruins of Myrrn emerged like the bones of a giant, scattered and drowned—temples split in half, towers bent sideways like they were kneeling, statues of sea gods missing eyes and arms.
And through it all pulsed a faint, rhythmic glow:
The Broken Seal.
They found it in the palace.
The throne room was buried in coral, but the throne itself remained untouched. Sitting upon it was a skeleton, still robed in royal blue, a crown fused to its skull.
The glow came from beneath the bones.
Kaelria approached it carefully.
"It's still active," she whispered. "Half-awake. Like a heartbeat waiting for a trigger."
Lyrius stepped forward—then froze.
He saw himself.
Not in a mirror.
In the throne.
Alive.
Crowned.
Smiling.
It vanished the moment he blinked, but the message was clear: This could be you.
They began to investigate the chamber, looking for the source of the crack in the Seal. That's when the singing started.
Distant.
Echoing.
Wrong.
Kaelria drew her blade. "Sirens?"
"No," Lyrius said. "Worse."
Shapes moved in the water—thin, pale, drifting unnaturally. Once human. Now something else.
The Drowned Choir.
Guardians of the Seal. Cursed to sing until it breaks entirely.
They weren't aggressive… yet.
But then Lyrius touched the throne.
And the Seal responded.
The throne split open like a mouth.
A surge of Essence burst out, and the Drowned Choir screamed. Their peaceful song turned shrill, agonized, violent.
They attacked.
Lyrius fought with the sword in one hand and the feather talisman in the other, light carving through darkness. Kaelria moved like lightning—elegant, brutal, silent.
But the Choir was endless.
Every blow they struck turned into two more enemies. Every cut drew shadows instead of blood.
"We can't win this," she shouted.
"We're not here to win," Lyrius growled. "We're here to wake it up."
He dove into the broken throne, deeper still, past the Seal, into the true chamber beneath—
Where it waited.
A being of pure energy. Not alive. Not dead. Bound in a prison of glass and runes.
A child's voice echoed in his mind:
"Why did you break it? I was sleeping…"
"I didn't mean to."
*"But now you're here. And I'm awake. And I'm… hungry."
The being surged toward him.
Lyrius did the only thing he could.
He thrust the feather talisman into its core.
Light exploded.
He awoke gasping, back in the throne room. The Drowned Choir was gone.
Kaelria helped him up, blood running from her temple.
"What happened?"
Lyrius stood slowly, his eyes glowing faintly now—not with borrowed Essence.
With something new.
"I didn't just touch the Seal this time," he said. "I took it in."
She stared at him, stunned. "You're insane."
"Maybe," he replied. "But now I know what's coming."
He looked up at the ceiling of the ruined throne room, feeling it watching him from above the water, across the skies, across realms.
"There's more than six Seals," he whispered.
Kaelria frowned. "How many?"
"I don't know."
He looked her dead in the eye.
"But someone does."