The corridors inside the temple of Poseidon had grown eerily quiet. The sea outside still whispered, but the temple itself felt timeless—as if everything here waited. Dominic walked ahead, eyes darting between the walls carved with ancient symbols. Beside him, Aegirion's steps echoed a little too softly.
They had just passed the Hall of Whispers, a chamber with dozens of mermaid statues with mouths open mid-scream, and Dominic hadn't missed how Aegirion lingered. Whispered something to one of them, maybe. It didn't sit right with him.
"You okay?" Aegirion asked casually, brushing coral dust off his shoulder.
Dominic didn't answer. He slowed his pace, letting the space stretch between them.
Aegirion stopped, brows furrowing. "You've been quiet ever since we entered the sanctum."
Dominic turned. "Yeah? Maybe because I'm starting to wonder why you really brought me here."
That stung. Aegirion's expression twisted—offended, maybe. Or defensive. "What are you talking about?"
"You always talk like you've got answers, like you knew this temple would open for me. And now you're pushing to find the Trident like it's your prize too." Dominic stepped forward, voice rising just slightly. "Tell me the truth. Are you working with Queen Nearida?"
Aegirion blinked. "What? No. That witch wants the ocean under her rule. I'd never—"
"But you could," Dominic cut in. "She's your kind. You both use secrets like knives."
The silence that followed was deep, pressing, almost physical.
"I brought you here because you're Poseidon," Aegirion said softly. "And I thought—maybe—this was your path. Not just to power, but to understanding what you are."
Dominic shook his head. "And yet you always know more than you say. You always hide something. Like how you conveniently knew the code to open the vault. Or how you vanished when those sirens attacked back near the reef."
"I saved you," Aegirion growled, finally showing teeth. "When everyone else left you to drown."
Dominic's fists clenched. His voice dropped to a cold whisper. "I don't trust people who save me without a reason."
For a moment, they stood in the ruins of silence. The tension could've snapped steel.
Then—
The ground trembled beneath them. A pulse echoed through the temple floor.
A door—one that had remained sealed—groaned open. From behind it, soft blue light spilled out like fog. Both men turned toward it, momentarily forgetting their argument.
"What is that?" Dominic asked.
"The Trial Room," Aegirion said, eyes wide. "It responds to the heir."
Dominic raised an eyebrow. "That's convenient."
Aegirion didn't argue this time. He simply walked forward, slower now, deliberate.
Dominic followed, but kept a hand near his side—where the water blade he'd formed earlier remained coiled, like a sleeping eel. Just in case.
Inside, the Trial Room was vast and circular, filled with water up to the waist. Pillars lined the space, and in the centre hovered a glowing relic—the Trident.
Dominic's breath caught. It shimmered with power, humming quietly like a living thing. It called to him.
He stepped into the water.
Behind him, Aegirion's footsteps hesitated.
"Go ahead," Dominic muttered without turning. "Make your move. If that's what this has all been about."
Aegirion didn't reply. Instead, he did something unexpected—he stepped back.
Dominic turned around.
"I'm not the one meant to touch that," Aegirion said, his voice suddenly tired. "It would reject me. Burn me. That weapon was made only for the Ocean Soul."
Dominic stared at him.
"You think I want to rule the ocean?" Aegirion went on. "I've seen what power does to kings. I followed you because I believed…maybe you were different."
The Trident pulsed again.
Dominic looked back at it, then down at his reflection in the water. The boy who'd died in a hospital bed wasn't there anymore. In his place stood something older, more burdened.
He took a step forward.
The water glowed around him. The pillars began to hum. The sea itself seemed to hold its breath.
As Dominic reached for the Trident, he felt a warmth rush up his arm. Memories that weren't his. Battles fought in ancient tides. The agony of betrayal. The echo of Poseidon's wrath.
He gasped—but held firm.
Then he heard it.
A whisper, just behind him.
"He's ready."
Dominic spun around.
Aegirion stood still. But someone else had entered the room.
A woman, cloaked in storm-colored robes, eyes glowing like lightning over the sea.
Queen Nearida.
Dominic stepped back, Trident in hand.
And she smiled.
The silence after Nearida vanished was heavier than the ocean itself.
The glow from the Trident altar flickered, casting long shadows across the temple walls. Dominic stood with his arms crossed, gaze fixed on Aegirion. Not speaking. Not yet.
Aegirion looked calm, too calm.
"Still breathing," Aegirion muttered. "That's a good sign."
Dominic's jaw tightened. "Did you know she would be here?"
"What?"
"Don't play dumb."
Aegirion's smirk faded. "No," he said slowly. "But I'm not surprised. Nearida always knew how to track energy... she probably sensed the Trident stirring."
Dominic stepped closer, voice low. "You've been leading me in circles. Half-truths. Warnings. And you knew exactly where to go. Exactly what would wake the Trident. Almost like... you wanted her to show up."
Aegirion blinked. "That's not—"
Dominic didn't let him finish. "I saw how she looked at you. How you didn't even flinch."
"Because I've faced her before."
"No," Dominic snapped. "Because you know her."
Aegirion sighed, stepping back, running a hand through his hair. "You think I'm working with her?"
Dominic nodded slowly. "I think you're hiding something. And I think it's got nothing to do with helping me."
The air between them grew thick. The temple felt colder.
Aegirion didn't deny it. Not right away.
Instead, he swam toward a cracked mural on the wall, brushing off sea moss to reveal an image—Poseidon, locked in battle with a sea queen who looked eerily like Nearida. The painting was ancient, but it told a familiar story.
"You're not the only one with ghosts, Dominic," Aegirion muttered. "There are old wounds between me and her. Ones you wouldn't understand."
"Try me."
Aegirion looked over his shoulder. His expression was different this time—tired, bitter. "Nearida and I... were once allies. Briefly. When Poseidon vanished, power vacuumed the sea kingdoms. She offered peace... and I took it. Until she started feeding on her own people."
Dominic raised an eyebrow. "And you expect me to believe that?"
"I don't care what you believe," Aegirion said flatly. "But if I wanted to betray you, you'd already be dead."
That didn't help.
Dominic's trust had already fractured.
Too many signs. Too many little things Aegirion had glossed over. The way he always took the lead, never asked for permission. The way he looked at the Trident—not with respect, but with hunger. And there were whispers too—sirens in the water murmuring about the 'Fallen Consort' of Nearida. Some claimed he was more dangerous than her.
And worse…
Dominic had seen Aegirion sneaking away during the nights, always returning with a smile, water still shimmering on his skin. As if he had been somewhere—with someone.
"Tell me something else," Dominic said, narrowing his eyes. "How many others like me have you led here?"
Aegirion didn't respond.
That was all Dominic needed to know.
"I'm done following you blindly," he said. "You might've saved me once, but that doesn't mean I owe you anything."
Aegirion slowly turned. There was no grin this time. No cocky smirk.
"I don't need you to like me, Dominic. I need you to stay alive."
"Then stop lying to me."
A silence fell again, colder this time.
Before either could speak again, the temple walls trembled. Cracks formed across the floor. The Trident symbol on the altar glowed brighter—pulsing, shaking, reacting to the tension.
"Get down!" Aegirion shouted, just as a sharp tremor rocked the temple.
The ground split open. From the center rose a narrow pedestal—and atop it, a shard of glowing crystal. Blue. Ancient. Singing in the ocean's voice.
Dominic's breath caught.
The Heart of the Abyss.
Aegirion stared too—but with dread.
"No," he muttered. "It's not time yet…"
Dominic's eyes widened. "You knew this would happen."
"No—I didn't expect it to rise here!"
Dominic swam to the crystal, instinctively reaching out—but Aegirion grabbed his wrist.
"Don't touch it!"
"Why?"
"Because it's not yours," Aegirion growled. "And it feeds on suspicion."
Dominic jerked free, backing away. "Then maybe it belongs to someone who sees through your games."
Before Aegirion could react, the temple trembled again. This time, darker tendrils began curling from the base of the altar.
And from the far end of the chamber, a new voice whispered.
"I see you've found my crystal."
Both of them turned sharply.
A figure emerged from the black water—tall, elegant, clad in robes that swirled like seaweed. His eyes glowed like storm-lit clouds, and his voice felt like it was carried by the tide itself.
"Who the hell is that?" Dominic whispered.
Aegirion's face darkened. "Varun."
"Who?"
"God of the Tides. Keeper of the Abyss."
Dominic backed away slowly.
Varun stepped forward with a smile too calm, too quiet.
"The sea has awakened too many sleeping kings," he said. "And I've come to see who still remembers how to bow."