The sea had gone quiet again—but it wasn't the same silence as before.
It was the kind of stillness that came after something enormous had stirred and simply... decided to wait. The kind that made even the bravest creatures slow their swimming, and the oldest gods look over their shoulders.
Dominic stood at the edge of the altar ruins, breathing heavily, though no real breath passed through his gills. The trident had grown warm in his hand, pulsing in rhythm with his heart now, not the ocean's. That scared him more than the seal cracking.
Because the ocean had accepted him—but not surrendered to him.
Beside him, Maelora still knelt. Her eyes were closed, head bowed slightly, almost in reverence. She didn't speak. Neither did Varun, who stood at the boundary of the ruins, silently watching the trench below.
Dominic finally spoke.
> "This wasn't the end."
Varun nodded. "It never is."
Maelora opened her eyes. "The ocean didn't destroy you. That means something."
