The Skybreaker was gone.
Its broken pieces now rested in the dark, slowly sinking through ancient trenches far below the battlefield.
Poseidon stood on the water, breath steady, eyes heavy. His hands were raw from the clash. The Trident—now fully awakened—rested at his side, humming like a voice just below a whisper.
But it was no victory.
Only silence followed.
And silence in the sea was never safe.
As the ocean calmed above, deep beneath the world, something shifted.
A tremor. A pulse. A whisper.
Not from gods.
Not from sirens.
But from the Primordial Hollow, a chasm sealed long ago—before Olympus ever rose. A place where thoughts bled, and voices had no shape.
There, an ancient entity stirred.
It had no name the gods would dare speak.
But in the echo of the shattered Skybreaker—
It heard.
And it answered.
"The balance is cracked…"
"Let it drown."
Poseidon's Sensing Something Wrong
Far above, Poseidon turned sharply.
The air felt too quiet.
