The bone china bead glowed faintly in the sand, its surface now etched with a spiral that pulsed in sync with the silver veins spreading across my chest. Lila knelt beside me, her fingers brushing the cold porcelain, her breath visible in the frosty air.
"It's calling you," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I can feel it."
I nodded, my throat tight. The bead's warmth seeped into my palm, merging with the pulse in my chest. The scales on my collarbone sharpened, their edges drawing blood as they pierced my skin.
Lila grabbed my arm. "You're bleeding."
I looked down. The blood wasn't red—it was silver, thick and glistening, oozing from the cracks in my porcelain-like skin. "It's not blood," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "It's residue. From the Deep."
She hesitated, then reached into her coat pocket. "I found this in the lighthouse. It was under the first keeper's journal."
She handed me a photograph—a faded Polaroid of a woman with silver hair, standing in front of the kiln. Her eyes were black holes, and her mouth stretched into a grin that split her face.
"Dr. Ellis," I said, my breath catching. "But she's… different."
Lila nodded. "There's writing on the back."
I flipped the photo. Scrawled in shaky ink: "The Mother's first sacrifice. 1927."
The ground shook, and the sea surged, a wall of water rising beyond the cliffs. At its crest, a figure stood—the fetus from the sarcophagus, now fully formed, its body half-porcelain, half-human.
"Wake me," it said, its voice a whisper in the wind.
I closed my eyes, focusing on the bead.
The wave receded, but the fetus's laughter echoed in my mind.
"We need to go back to the kiln," I said, my voice hollow. "The key… it's the only thing that can stop this."
Lila helped me to my feet, her hands shaking. "What if it's a trap?"
I met her eyes. "It's the only chance we have."
The journey to the kiln was a blur. The sea's surface was now a patchwork of ice and open water, the waves crashing against the hull of Voss's boat like fists. When we reached the kiln, its doors were sealed with bone china growths, their surfaces etched with scenes of the Deep's birth.
I pressed the dagger to the door, the bead glowing brighter. The carvings dissolved, and the doors creaked open.
Inside, the pedestal held a bone china sarcophagus, its lid etched with a spiral that matched the bead.
"The heart of the Deep," I said, my voice hollow.
Lila grabbed my arm. "Don't open it. It's a trap."
I met her eyes. "I have to. It's the only way to break the cycle."
She let go, stepping back.
I pushed the lid aside. Inside, a pool of red fluid swirled, and at its center floated a fetus—its body half-porcelain, half-human, its eyes milky white.
"The first keeper's daughter," I whispered. "She was never born. The Deep took her instead."
The fetus's eyes opened, fixing on me. "Wake me," it said, its voice a whisper in the current.
The ground shook, and tendrils erupted from the walls, wrapping around me.
I closed my eyes, focusing on the dagger's bead.
The tendrils froze, then dissolved.
The fetus smiled, its teeth sharp as needles. "You can't kill me. I am the Deep. And I am everywhere."
I raised the dagger, but before I could strike, the sarcophagus shattered, releasing a shockwave that knocked Lila to the ground.
When I opened my eyes, I stood in a vast, submerged city, its buildings made of bone china, their surfaces alive with wriggling tendrils. The Deep's shadow loomed above, but instead of fear, I felt… pity.
A figure emerged from the shadows—Xiao Xu, her face smooth, her eyes glowing with a soft light. "You're one of us now," she said, her voice echoing. "A bridge between worlds."
I reached for her, and she dissolved into tendrils, which wrapped around me, merging with my porcelain skin.
I opened my eyes.
I stood on the beach, the sun warm on my skin. Lila stood next to me, her eyes wide.
"What happened?" she asked.
I looked at my hands—the scales were gone, replaced by smooth, unmarked skin. The bead in my chest had faded.
"The Deep is… balanced," I said. "It's part of me now, and I'm part of it."
Lila nodded, her face solemn. "What now?"
I smiled faintly. "Now, we rebuild."
But as we turned to leave, the ground shook, and a fissure opened at my feet, oozing red fluid. The bead in my chest pulsed, and I felt the Deep's presence—weaker, but still there.
"Not yet," I said, staring at the fissure. "It's still here."
Lila took my hand, her grip firm. "We'll fight it. Together."
The sea roared, and a new wave rose—smaller, but still menacing. At its crest, a figure stood—the fetus, now fully formed, its body half-porcelain, half-human.
"Wake me," it said, its voice a whisper in the wind.
I closed my eyes, focusing on the bead.
The wave receded, and the fissure sealed.
When I opened my eyes, the beach was calm again.
Lila smiled. "We did it."
But as we turned to leave, a single bone china bead washed ashore, its surface etched with a single word:
"Hunger."