The sea took her gently.
Not with a crash, not with force—but like a mother easing a child into a bath. The water was cold at first, then warm, then neither. It became something else entirely—something alive.
Quinta sank.
She did not fight it.
She let the tide pull her down, deeper than any human should go and still breathe. But she didn't need to breathe—not like before.
Her lungs had changed.
They no longer demanded air.
Instead, they pulsed in rhythm with the ocean itself.
As she descended, the light above faded into memory. Below, strange bioluminescent shapes flickered in the dark—tendrils of glowing jellyfish, spirals of drifting plankton that moved like dancers in a forgotten ritual. Fish with too many eyes watched her pass, then turned away, uninterested.
She was expected.
Frank had warned her what to expect.
"The deeper you go, the less you'll feel like yourself."
She hadn't understood what he meant until now.
With every fathom, her body shifted.
Her fingers stretched slightly, webbing forming between them. Her toes followed. Her skin thickened, taking on a smooth, iridescent sheen like the inside of a shell. And beneath her outer pair of breasts, the second set began to glow faintly—blue and pulsing like twin moons beneath the waves.
She was becoming something else.
Something more .
And yet, she did not fear it.
She welcomed it.
Then she saw it.
Veythra.
The city rose from the ocean floor like a dream carved from coral and bone. Towers twisted upward in impossible angles, their surfaces etched with symbols that shimmered with ancient power. Bioluminescent vines curled around archways shaped like open mouths. Streets paved with polished shells pulsed softly underfoot, even though there were no feet walking them.
It was beautiful.
And utterly empty .
No life stirred.
No voices echoed.
Only silence.
And the whisper.
Quinta.
Quinta.
Quinta.
She turned slowly, searching the dark.
"Who are you?" she asked aloud.
The water carried her voice like ripples.
A pause.
Then—
We are waiting.
Waiting for what?
For you .
She walked through the city, drawn by an unseen force toward its heart.
The temple loomed ahead—a massive structure built into the side of an underwater cliff. Its entrance was sealed with chains made of silver and bone, just as she'd seen in her dreams. Each link pulsed with a slow, dying light.
And in front of the doors stood a figure.
Tall.
Humanoid.
But not human.
Its skin was pale and translucent, revealing veins of glowing blue liquid beneath. Its eyes were hollow voids that reflected nothing. Long hair drifted behind it like strands of kelp caught in a current.
It bowed low when she approached.
"You have returned," it said, its voice echoing from everywhere and nowhere.
Quinta swallowed. "Who are you?"
"I am the Warden," it replied. "Keeper of the Temple. Keeper of the One Who Sleeps."
She stepped closer. "Who sleeps?"
The Warden lifted one skeletal hand and pointed past the doors.
"The First. The Mother. The Forgotten."
Quinta's chest tightened.
"She is my ancestor," she whispered.
The Warden inclined its head. "Yes. And now, you must awaken her."
Inside the temple, the darkness was thicker, heavier—as if the water itself resisted entering. Statues lined the walls, depicting figures with multiple limbs, multiple faces, multiple hearts. Some looked human. Others did not.
At the center of the chamber lay a great stone platform.
And upon it, a figure.
Long and slender.
Her body was covered in coral-like armor, fused seamlessly to her flesh. Her face was serene, frozen in eternal rest. Four soft mounds rose from her chest—just like Quinta's.
This was not just a statue.
This was a memory .
Quinta stepped forward.
The moment her foot touched the platform, the chains outside shattered.
The ocean shuddered.
A deep, resonant sound filled the space—a groan of awakening.
Quinta looked up.
The being's eyes fluttered.
And then opened.
They were vast.
Like oceans within oceans.
And they looked straight into her soul.
"You," the being whispered, voice rippling through the water like thunder beneath the waves.
Quinta trembled.
"Yes," she said, though she didn't know why.
The being smiled.
"My blood remembers you."
And then, with a single breath that sent shockwaves through the sea—
The First rose.