The leviathan's corpse drifted downward in slow, heavy spirals. As it sank, a faint glow pulsed from somewhere inside its torn skull. Rex turned toward it just in time to see a small object—still wrapped in a chunk of bone and flesh—float free from the creature's ruined brain cavity.
The glow wasn't blue like the beast's blood.
It was a deep, molten orange… the same color as his gills.
Rex kicked toward it, slipping through the drifting cloud of gore. The object rotated slowly as he reached out and caught it in his palm. It vibrated faintly, as if alive. He didn't have time to examine it—Tina's body was sinking fast.
He shot downward.
He reached her, gathered her limp form into his arms, and swam upward with all his strength. The water trembled as he burst through a collapsed roof panel, shredding metal plating like wet paper. Sunlight— harsh, blinding—spilled into the cavern from above as Rex hauled Tina up through the opening.
Workers followed behind him, struggling to keep up.
He didn't stop.
Rex surged toward the far side of the cavern, toward the same stone arches he and Tina had walked under earlier—the ancient gate-like structures half-submerged in the seawater. He swam through their shadow and continued until the cavern opened into a wide, misty channel that led to a distant strip of rocky shoreline.
He reached it in seconds.
Rex pulled Tina from the water and laid her gently onto the shore.
She didn't move.
Her chest didn't rise.
Her pupils were fixed and lifeless.
Rex pressed his forehead to hers—eyes squeezed shut—and for a long moment the world seemed completely still. The wind didn't blow. The waves didn't crash. Only the memory of her screaming his name echoed in his skull.
He let out a breath that was half-sigh, half-growl.
Then anger struck him like a blade.
He dove back into the sea.
⸻
He swam deep—far deeper than any human could follow—until he reached the narrow crevice he had discovered weeks before. He slipped into the underwater tunnel and followed it until it rose into a hidden cavern: his refuge.
A dim camp lantern sat beside a stone bed platform, tools scattered across a makeshift workbench, and the belongings he had hoarded over the years—plates, gems, scraps of ancient alloy.
Rex sat heavily on the bed.
Face in his hands.
Breathing slowly, painfully.
"Another one," he muttered. "Another one I couldn't save. Just like—"
His voice cracked.
"Just like them."
Flashback images cut through him.
His siblings.
The disaster.
Their screams.
He slammed a fist into the stone beside him. The rock cracked.
After a long moment, he forced himself to sit up.
The glowing object was still clutched in his fist.
He peeled the chunk of flesh back until the smooth metal plate beneath was revealed. It resembled the snake plate he had found, but this one was thicker, sculpted with jagged scale-like textures. Two large gem sockets sat at the top—already filled with amber stones—and four smaller empty sockets were spaced along its edges.
Rex opened the small pouch where he kept the gems from previous plates.
He fit them into the empty sockets one by one.
The plate pulsed.
Hummed.
Then twisted in his hand like a living thing.
Metal folded.
Bone shifted.
Scales rippled out from its surface.
Within seconds, the plate had reshaped itself into a small black statue—a fish-like creature with frog-like limbs, blue-black scales, four gem-studded limbs, and two burning orange gemstones for eyes.
It blinked.
Rex's stomach dropped.
The creature leapt at him.
It clung to his back, limbs wrapping around his ribs. Rex grabbed at it, but it was already burrowing—its form flattening, melting, dissolving under his skin. Fire exploded across his spine as the creature merged with his flesh.
Rex screamed.
The pain was hot enough to blind. His vision whitened. His muscles convulsed. His lungs seized. He collapsed onto his side, body twisting violently as the burning sensation tore down his arms and legs like liquid metal carving new pathways.
Darkness swallowed him.
When he opened his eyes, the cavern lantern had burned lower.
His back throbbed, but the pain had faded to a warm, pulsing glow.
On his skin—stretching from shoulder to shoulder—was a new tattoo. Sleek. Black. Shaped like the amphibious fish-creature that had fused with him.
Rex pushed himself to his knees.
Let's see what you do… he thought.
He focused inward—toward the same instinctual place that had triggered his burning gills. A surge of energy shot down his limbs.
Black scales burst across his arms from shoulder to fingertips—layered, knife-sharp, shining faintly. His fingers lengthened into four webbed claws. His legs reshaped, muscles tightening, ankles shifting into amphibious joints. His feet grew four scaling claws, each webbed and powerful.
He caught his reflection in a puddle on the cavern floor.
He looked like something that belonged to the deep.
Exhaling slowly, Rex pushed the instinct away—
And the scales dissolved, receding beneath his skin like smoke being pulled back into a lantern.
His body returned to normal.
Rex sat on the edge of his stone bed again.
Elbows on knees.
Eyes hollow.
This power…
This curse…
This responsibility…
He wasn't sure which it was anymore.
He sighed.