The wind off the coast carried a strange taste — not the salt and freshness Kael expected, but something metallic, like rainwater left in a rusted basin. Waves rolled lazily beneath a bruised-purple sky, their crests marked by streaks of black that swirled and refused to fade.
Cess stood at the prow of the small boat they had taken from a fishing village at dawn, her eyes locked on the spear in her hand. Its tip pulsed faintly, a steady beat in time with her own heart. "She's close," she said, voice tight. "Too close."
Sena crouched beside the hull, fingertips trailing in the water. When she pulled her hand back, black residue clung to her skin, staining it like ink. "Not oil," she murmured. "It's… dead water. No life in it. Even the heat's gone."
Kael scanned the horizon. A dark shape rose where sea met sky — jagged and uneven, like the spine of a drowned beast. But as the mist cleared, the outline became clearer: a fortress, its upper towers jutting from the water while the rest lay buried beneath the tide. Stone walls gleamed slick with moss, and seawater gushed from the empty mouths of shattered windows.
The villagers they'd passed earlier had spoken in whispers about this stretch of coast. Fishing boats never returned from here; those who sailed too far brought back tales of "the siren's song" — music carried on the waves that lured men to their deaths.
Kael didn't need convincing. He could still hear faint echoes of that corrupted flute in his mind, the melody curling like smoke in the edges of his thoughts.
"That's her," he said.
Sena nodded grimly. "And she's not alone."
She pointed to the water ahead. Just beneath the surface, shadows moved — long and sinuous, circling the fortress. Now and then, a glint of scales broke the surface before vanishing again.
The boat rocked violently as something slammed into its underside. Kael grabbed the mast to steady himself just as a head broke the water — a creature with eel-like flesh stretched over an armored skull, its eyes glowing faint red. Rows of needle teeth gnashed as it lunged for the side of the boat.
Kael's staff snapped out, cracking against its jaw and sending it thrashing back into the sea. But more shapes closed in — four, maybe five — darting through the blackened waves.
Cess spun her spear, each arc of its blade scattering starlight into the air. When she thrust it into the water, a flash of cosmic energy erupted, vaporizing one of the beasts in a burst of steam.
Sena leapt onto the bow, twin chakram spinning in her hands. She hurled one toward a shape beneath the surface; the weapon dove like a hawk, its weight shifting mid-flight, and when it struck, the water boiled where it hit.
Even after the last creature sank, Kael felt the wrongness lingering in the water. The flute's influence wasn't just in Lee Jin-ah — it was seeping into the sea itself.
"They weren't just hunting us," Sena said, retrieving her chakram. "They were guarding this place."
Cess's spear pulsed harder, brighter. "She's inside. I can feel it… and something else. Big."
They rowed the rest of the way, the sound of the oars eerily loud in the stillness. The fortress loomed higher, its mossy battlements slick with the tide. One great gate lay half-submerged, the other broken open like a wound.
As they drew near, Kael noticed carvings etched into the stone — relic motifs. Not just one culture, but many: suns and moons, dragons and birds, blades and shields. A place where relic bearers had once gathered… now swallowed by the sea.
A figure moved briefly in one of the high windows — a flash of white robe, then gone.
The first notes reached them just as the boat scraped the fortress wall. Low, mournful, and winding like a serpent, the flute's song poured into the air. It wasn't as loud as it had been in Manila, but its pull was stronger here, concentrated.
Kael felt his grip on the oar slacken, his vision softening at the edges. The fortress seemed to lean toward him, its dark windows like beckoning eyes.
Sena's voice cut through the haze. "Kael. Don't listen."
He shook his head hard, clutching the staff until the wood bit into his palm. The song faltered for a second, then resumed, sharper, as if testing their resolve.
Before they could climb the fortress wall, something vast stirred in the depths below — not the Bakunawa itself, but a part of it. A coil, thick as a city street, slid past under the water, so close Kael could see the ridges of its scales.
"She's keeping it here," Cess whispered. "Guarding it until it's ready."
"Or feeding it," Sena said.
Either way, the air around the fortress tightened with the sense of something waiting.
They tied the boat to a jagged crack in the wall. From here, they would climb to the fortress's higher floors, where the spear's pull was strongest.
Kael glanced at the dark windows again. "We go in quiet. If we can reach her before she realizes we're here, we might have a chance to break the connection without drawing the beast out."
"And if she already knows?" Sena asked.
Kael's jaw tightened. "Then we make enough noise to bring the whole place down on her head."
They climbed, the sound of the flute following them into the dark.