The sea had gone gray again.
The waves rolled in slow, thoughtful breaths.
Skuld stepped ahead of the others, boots sinking into the wet sand of Te Fiti's cradle. All around her, broken statues leaned out of the surf—half-faces worn smooth by centuries of wind and tide. The air shimmered faintly with warmth, the scent of flowers ghosting through the salt, but every petal was carved of stone.
Maui trailed behind, grumbling under his breath. "Used to be this place glowed like a sunrise. Now it's a graveyard."
Kurai walked beside him, her expression unreadable. "You'd know. You're the one who buried it."
He shot her a glare. "Yeah, yeah. Stole the Heart, unleashed the darkness—heard it before. You done or you need it in song form?"
Skuld intervened before Kurai's patience snapped. "Enough. Fighting won't fix this." She gazed up at a toppled idol of Te Fiti, her stone hands still cupped as if cradling something. "Only returning the Heart will."
"Assuming it can be returned," Kurai muttered. Her tone was dry, but she watched Skuld carefully—measuring her hope like something dangerous.
They moved inland. The jungle here was silent; leaves gleamed like glass, still wet with a rain that never truly dried. Every few steps, the ground pulsed faintly underfoot—like the echo of a heartbeat trapped beneath stone.
"Still think the Heart's out there?" Kurai asked.
Skuld nodded. "It's still feeling. I think so, maybe."
Maui crossed his arms. "The ocean's been restless for weeks. Storms come from nowhere. Fishermen vanish. Whatever's wrong with her Heart, it's spreading."
Kurai's gaze sharpened. "You said fishermen vanished? Weren't you stuck on an island? How did you know?"
"Destroyed boats come back empty," Maui said grimly. "Scorch marks, wet footprints, sometimes singing. The kind that gets in your head. The kind that makes you walk into the water."
"That sounds familiar," Skuld murmured. "We saw something like it when she left in search of you."
Before she could elaborate, a distant voice echoed through the mist—soft at first, then clearer, carried by the wind.
"—Maui!"
Maui froze. "Oh, great. That's my name. Loud. Female. And disappointed. I know that tone."
A young woman emerged from the treeline, barefoot and determined, her hair damp with seawater. She carried a paddle like a staff, its edges carved with island runes. Her eyes went straight to Maui, fury and relief crashing together like waves.
"You!" she shouted. "You're alive!"
Maui blinked. "Uh… last I checked? Yeah."
"You're supposed to be fixing what you broke!" she snapped. "The darkness is swallowing the islands—our crops are dying, our seas are turning black, and the stars—" Her voice cracked. "—the stars are going out."
Kurai looked mildly impressed. "I like her."
Skuld stepped forward. "Who… are you?"
Moana nodded cautiously, sizing her up. "Who are you?"
"Travelers," Skuld said. "We came to help Maui restore the Heart."
That earned her a spark of hope. "Then you're here to help me find it. My name's Moana by the way. Sorry for not introducing myself before."
Kurai's tone was level, almost mocking. "Whatever, we're here to take it."
Moana bristled. "Take it? It belongs to Te Fiti! You can't—"
Skuld cut in, voice calm but firm. "Sorry about her. My name is Skuld, and that's Kurai. She didn't mean it like that. We just need to study it—to understand what's happening. The darkness and decay."
"Right," Maui muttered. "That's exactly how it starts."
Kurai folded her arms. "Do you want to save your islands or argue semantics?"
Moana glared but held her ground. "Both."
They walked together toward the mountain that loomed over the island's center—a volcano split down the middle, glowing faintly from within. The sea below shimmered sickly green, reflecting flashes of black lightning far offshore.
Skuld glanced at Moana. "You said the islands are drowning in darkness. What do you mean exactly?"
Moana's expression darkened. "The ocean itself has changed. It used to sing—now it whispers, drawing people in. Every time the rain stops, more people vanish. My grandmother used to say the ocean had a soul. Now it feels like it's grieving."
"Grieving," Skuld echoed softly.
Kurai's gaze remained forward. "We could use our weapons to disprove that theory. We could release the ocean's heart."
They reached a ridge where the trees ended and a plain of black glass stretched out. The remains of what once was Te Fiti's heartland shimmered faintly beneath their feet—pools of water trapped between cracks, reflecting a sky that refused to brighten.
Maui knelt, pressing a hand to the ground. "This used to be full of life. You could feel her power and pulse through the soil."
Now, it pulsed faintly—weak, unsteady, like the last echo of a dying drum.
Moana clenched her fist. "We can still save her and the islands."
Kurai's tone was flat. "You sound very sure of that."
"I have to be."
There was something in her voice—faith, fierce and unshakable—that even Kurai didn't mock. For once, the darkness in her expression eased.
A sudden ripple spread across the glass plain. The sea beyond began to stir again, churning without wind. Skuld felt it before she heard it—the low, rising hum that resonated through the air.
Moana's eyes widened. "That sound—"
Maui cursed. "Oh no."
The ground split open. From the cracks spilled water and flame together, molten and liquid, burning without smoke. The sea rose higher, shaping itself into a massive silhouette—a figure of molten rock and seething light, its outline trembling like a mirage.
Te Kā.
Her roar shook the clouds, scattering birds that weren't there.
Moana stepped forward instinctively, but Kurai caught her arm. "You go near that thing and you'll burn."
"She's not a monster," Moana said fiercely. "I can feel it in my heart. She's what's left of Te Fiti!"
Kurai's eyes narrowed. "Then she's lost to the darkness."
Maui unslung a broken harpoon from his back. "And she's about to take us with her."
The first wave of fire struck, scattering molten fragments across the ridge. Skuld raised her keyblade, summoning a shimmering barrier of light to deflect the debris. Kurai dashed forward, shadow rippling around her feet, and slashed at a tendril of lava that lunged from the ground. It dissolved, but the heat didn't fade—the entire island was pulsing with fury.
Moana lifted her paddle, whispering a prayer to the sea. The waves answered—rising just enough to shield her from the next burst. She gasped but stood firm.
Maui grinned, adrenaline sparking. "There's the ocean I remember!"
"Save your cheering," Kurai said coldly. "We're just getting started."
Skuld's eyes flashed with resolve. "If Te Kā really is Te Fiti's darkness, then maybe she's still listening."
Moana turned to her. "Then we make her hear us. How do we do that?"
The demigod smirked. "Great. No pressure."
Lightning cracked above them, white against black. The storm was coming alive, feeding off the clash of faith and fury.