The path led them through corridors carved not by tools, but by ancient memories — like time itself had melted tunnels into the bedrock of the sea.
Each step deeper into the Leviathan trench felt like walking through the mind of a forgotten god. Silent watchers—massive jellyfish with eyes like silver lanterns— floated beside them. Bioluminescent symbols lined the walls, pulsing slowly in rhythm with Astraeus's heartbeat.
He knew they weren't just watching.
They were listening.
—Dome of Echoes and Queen Naihelis:
A massive chamber of crystal and water, suspended in a void of nothingness. Pillars of glass coral spiraled upward, each one humming softly like a heartbeat underwater. In the center floated a throne — no, a tomb — wrapped in strands of silver kelp and glowing with mourning light.
Upon it sat Queen Naihelis, the Mourning Queen of Landara.
She wasn't old — but time had weighed her Spirit down until her face looked older than the sea. Her hair drifted like ink in the water. Her crown was broken coral. Her eyes held storms.
"You enter our realm," she said, her voice echoing as if spoken through centuries, "with fire in your blood and war on your back."
Astraeus didn't bow.
"I've come with truth."
The Queen studied him for a long moment, then looked at Joga. "The merchant of stolen Knowledge. And yet, you lead him here."
Joga smirked. "I follow the flames now."
The Queen rose. The pressure in the chamber increased, warping the light.
"You claim to bring truth. Then answer: Why does the Surface burn while the Deep grieves?"
Astraeus stepped forward.
"Because none of us have been willing to face the root of the rot — the war, the betrayal, the sealing of the Phoenix Gate."
The Queen flinched at that name.
" Speak again," she warned.
"I will,"Astraeus said. "Because I need your help to open it."
The guards around the dome raised their tridents. The sea tensed like a held breath.
But the Queen didn't strike.
Instead, she whispered:
"You saw the Leviathans and did not forget yourself. You passed the trench of Sorrow. And now you demand the key to our last pain?"
Astraeus lowered his head, just slightly.
"I don't demand. I ask. I beg, if I must. The Flame King still lives. The Underworld prepares. If we do not unite, then all of us— Surface, Sea, and Sky—will drown in silence."
For a long time, Queen did not answer.
Then… she raised her hand.
From the base of her throne, a stone chest floated upward, wrapped in iron bands and golden seals. It pulsed like a living heart.
"The Cry of the Sea," she said. "A relic of the first war. The weapon that broke the Flame Tyrant's shield during the Battle of the Shattered Currents. Only one not born of the sea has ever touched it."
She looked directly into Astraeus's eyes.
"Your mother."
The air cracked with tension.
"My mother?" Astraeus whispered. "She was here?"
She didn't just visit," the Queen said. "She saved us."
—Mother and Savior:
The revelation broke something open in Astraeus.
"She… she fought for Landara?"
"She gave her flame for us to breathe," the Queen said. "And we failed her. I failed her."
The relic floated closer to Astraeus. "So now I offer you what was once hers."
The guards hesitated.
The sea trembled.
Astraeus stepped forward and placed his hand on the relic.
The Dome of Echoes ignited with light.
A vision seared into his mind — his mother, standing in the same chamber, her body engulfed in fire and sorrow, facing the old Flame King… and dying to to protect a hidden gate deep below the ocean floor.
As the vision faded, Astraeus opened his eyes.
The Queen was on one Knee. The guards had bowed.
"For her," the Queen said. "And now for you."
—Blood in the Abyss:
The relic had changed him.
As Astraeus held it, he could feel the sorrow of centuries locked inside. A thousand screams echoed in his soul — voices of drowned Kings, betrayed sisters, and dying warriors. And yet… within that sorrow was a spark.
Fire. His Fire.
But twisted by the ocean's grief.
"Where is the Phoenix Gate?" He asked.
Queen Naihelis face darkened. "You already stand above it. Beneath this very chamber lies the sealed Passage — but it is no ordinary gate."
She turned her gaze downward, through the crystal floor. With a gesture, the surface shimmered to reveal a deep chasm plunging into endless black.
"The Gate is not a door, Astraeus. It is a wound. A scar carved into the world by gods who bled fire into the sea."
Suddenly, the waters around the Dome churned.
Torrents of pressure collapsed in on themselves, and a wave of darkness rose from the trench below.
From it emerged an armored figure, his body forged of obsidian coral and black flame, his face hidden behind a jagged helmet crowned with barnacles.
The guards reacted instantly, forming a circle.
But Joga only stepped back and muttered: "…no. Not him."
The Queen whispered the name.
"Velgron."
Velgron's voice was the sound of tidal rifts and volcanoes erupting beneath the sea. "The boy holds the Cyr of the Sea. The blood must spill again."
"You have no right here!" The Queen shouted.
Velgron raised one clawed hand. "I was once your King."
"And you were exiled for your crimes," she snapped.
He turned to Astraeus.
"You carry your mother's light," Velgron growled, "but it is not hers I seek — it is the one that burns inside you. The Astro Flame."
Astraeus stepped forward, fire rippling beneath his skin. "You want it? Come take it,"
The chamber exploded into battle.
Velgron moved like a living Earthquake, breaking coral pillars with every step. His trident struck like a meteor, sending shockwaves through the water.
Astraeus dodged, drawing his flame into sharp, blinding arcs. Joga summoned twin blades made of sunken moonlight, flashing between shadows.
But Velgron wasn't just powerful.
He was ancient.
He blocked Astraeus's flame with a wall of condensed pressure, then slammed him through the floor of the dome, sending them both plummeting into the Abyss below — toward the Gate.
Underwater lightning struck.
Below them, the Phoenix Gate began to glow.
But it was twisted — corrupted. Black tendrils of flame lashed upward like hands trying to grab Astraeus and pull him in.
Velgron laughed. "It calls to you. Just as it called to her."
Astraeus spun in the water, igniting his arms. "Then maybe l'll answer."
He slammed his fist into Velgron's chest, flame meeting darkness. Velgron retaliated with a roar, slashing across Astraeus's side—blood spilling into the water.
The Gate responded.
It opened.
Just a crack.
A scream poured out from within. Not human. Not a god.
Something older.
Astraeus froze. Inside that scream, he heard something terrifying.
His name.
A voice called to him from beyond the Gate.
Not his mother.
Not the Queen.
Not even the Phoenix.
It was… him.
Another version of himself — twisted, broken, whispered from a world where he had chosen power over people.
"I am what you become," it said. "And I remember drowning."
Velgron smiled. "Now do you see? You are not here to open the Gate… you are here to become what lies behind it."
Joga arrived just in time, slashing through Velgron's back with a cursed blade.
"Time to go!" He shouted, grabbing Astraeus.
But Astraeus looked down one more time… and saw flames in the shape of wings forming beneath the Gate.
They were growing.
Whatever was behind that seal — it wasn't asleep anymore.
And it had his face.
To be continued…