The sea was no longer still. The waves pulsed in rhythm with Poseidon's heartbeat, each crash against the cliffside like a warning drumbeat. Dominic—the boy he once was—could feel his fragile humanity clinging to him like a shadow, even as the mantle of godhood pressed heavier upon his shoulders.
He stood at the shoreline, trident in hand, its edges humming faintly as though whispering secrets from the abyss. The sky above was dark, swollen with storm clouds that he hadn't called—but answered to him nonetheless. For the first time since awakening, he felt a strange dread creep into his chest.
Was he truly the master of the oceans, or only the vessel of something far older?
"Thalorin…" His voice broke the silence, tasting of brine. "I can feel you stirring. How much of this power is mine… and how much is yours?"
The waves gave no answer—only the distant rumble of thunder.
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