In the deepest trench of Thalorenn, where light was only a rumor and the bones of forgotten leviathans lay untouched for ages, the war had begun.
Not of blades.
Not of kingdoms.
But of names.
One to remember.
One to erase.
The newly awakened Poseidon hovered above the abyss, eyes blazing like the calm before a storm. His voice was no longer mortal. No longer just Dominic.
It was ocean-born.
And the creature rising below him?
It had no name left—only hunger.
A hunger to unwrite everything.
---
The Thing Without a Name
It writhed upward in silence, dragging a trail of fading memories in its wake. Schools of fish forgot how to swim. Currents stopped obeying gravity. Whole reefs withered mid-bloom.
Maelora clutched her chest.
> "I… I can't remember the sound of my own voice."
Varun's face twisted in panic.
> "I thought I was—wait, who are we even—?"
Poseidon's voice cut through the unraveling like a blade of thunder:
