Then, from the depths, another group arose.
Their bodies were large, covered in thick, layered shells that looked ancient, more like carved stone than living flesh, with faint marks and lines that hinted at age and endurance. Their movements were slow, deliberate, yet every step carried a quiet force that could not be ignored, as if the ocean itself adjusted around them.
The Tidal Colossi.
There were only a few of them, but their presence alone made the space feel heavier.
At the front stood one whose shell carried cracks filled with faint glowing lines, like marks that had deepened with time instead of fading.
He looked at the gathered figures, then at the island, and let out a slow breath.
"Sigh.....Sirens, Ocean Elves and even Shark Kin....along with hundreds of other races....and still counting.....," he said, his voice deep and steady, though there was a trace of recognition in it, "it seems this is not a simple disturbance, not something that can be ignored."
