The chamber behind the vault door wasn't large.
But it felt endless.
Walls of moving water shimmered with memories. Ancient voices swirled around Poseidon as he stepped through—some cheering, others weeping, many just whispering in languages long forgotten.
But all of them recognized him.
All of them welcomed him.
---
The Throne of Currents
At the heart of the room stood a throne, not carved from stone or coral—but formed from pure current.
Waves flowed through it, around it, as though the throne was the eye of the ocean's storm. Faint blue symbols etched into the arms of the seat glowed slowly, reacting to his presence.
Above the throne floated a crown.
It wasn't gold. It wasn't shining.
It was made of broken shell, ocean glass, and the tip of a Leviathan's fang.
The Sea Crown.
It pulsed with old, forgotten energy.
Not the kind that dominates…
But the kind that binds all things in the sea.
---
The Moment of Decision
Poseidon stood before it.
Silent.
Still.
