There was silence.
Not the peaceful kind.
The kind that follows a scream so loud, it breaks reality itself.
The Hollow had collapsed.
The Choir was gone.
And now, only Poseidon and Varun remained… drifting in a pocket of stillness at the ocean's lowest memory.
What Survived the Collapse
Poseidon looked around.
Everything once vibrant and dangerous in this realm had gone still. The coral-thoughts had dimmed. The cathedral of voices was now just black stone—silent, forgotten.
The Trident in his hand no longer glowed.
It throbbed.
Like it had swallowed something it didn't want.
"Is it done?" Varun's voice broke the silence, cracking around the edges.
He still trembled. The Choir had invaded his mind too deeply.
"Not done," Poseidon said. "But delayed."
"You don't kill a Choir. You silence it… until it learns a new song."
The Aftermath in the Water
The current began to move again.
Gently.
The water felt clearer now, even this far down.
