Varun stood still.
The sea around him quieted. No whispers. No currents. Just that eerie calm—the kind that came before something terrible.
Dominic's chest tightened. That wasn't just another god.
This one felt different.
His presence didn't crush like Nearida's. It sank. Slowly. Deeply. Like drowning without knowing it.
Varun walked across the cracked temple floor like he owned it. Every step seemed to ripple reality around him, distorting the murals, bending light.
"You," he said softly, eyes landing on Dominic, "don't belong here yet."
Dominic tensed. "Who decides that?"
Varun raised a brow. "You think wielding a title makes you a god?"
Aegirion stepped in front of Dominic without thinking. "Varun, this isn't your war."
Varun's gaze flicked to him. "You still breathe. That surprises me."
"I don't answer to you."
"No. You answer to him." Varun nodded toward Dominic. "And he doesn't even know what he is."
Dominic gritted his teeth. "Why are you here?"
Varun looked at the glowing shard—The Heart of the Abyss. His voice lowered.
"Because something old is waking up. And you holding the Trident is the match that lit it."
Aegirion's hand moved subtly toward the dagger on his hip.
Varun noticed.
"Relax, little liar," he said. "I didn't come to kill you. Not yet. But I did come to make a deal."
Dominic frowned. "A deal?"
Varun turned to him fully now, his face unreadable. "You're untrained. Hunted. Doubted. You're dragging the name Poseidon through blood and mud. But there's a way out of this."
"I'm listening."
"Give me the Heart. Let me keep it safe. Let me protect it while you... figure yourself out."
Aegirion scoffed. "You think we're stupid?"
"No," Varun said simply. "I think he's desperate."
Dominic stayed quiet.
He was desperate. He didn't trust Aegirion, didn't understand Nearida, and now here was another god making promises laced in poison.
But something about Varun's calm made him harder to read than either of them.
"You showed up just when the crystal did," Dominic said. "That's too perfect."
Varun smiled faintly. "The ocean calls her kings. I just happened to be first."
Dominic walked up to the crystal. Its surface pulsed like a heartbeat. It didn't feel angry or violent. Just… empty.
Maybe like him.
He turned to Aegirion. "What happens if I give it to him?"
"He gains power over the Abyss," Aegirion said. "He controls the drowned gates. The lower currents. Things we haven't seen since Poseidon vanished."
"Sounds useful."
"Sounds dangerous."
Varun chuckled. "He's not wrong. But power is always dangerous in the wrong hands."
He stepped forward.
Dominic didn't back down. "And yours are the right ones?"
"I didn't betray Nearida. I didn't lie to mortals. I didn't hide in shadows."
That hit something.
Dominic looked at Aegirion. "Is he lying?"
Aegirion hesitated. "He's telling the truth. But he's still a bastard."
Varun shrugged. "Guilty."
Silence hung for a moment. Then Dominic turned to the crystal again.
The temptation whispered softly.
Take it. Use it. Show them who you are.
His fingers brushed the surface—and in that moment, visions struck him like a tide crashing through glass.
—Nearida screaming.
—Aegirion bleeding.
—Varun holding a throne of bone.
Dominic jerked his hand back.
"No," he said. "I'm not giving it to anyone."
Varun blinked. "Even if keeping it kills you?"
Dominic didn't answer.
"Very well," Varun said, straightening. "I came with an offer. You refused. I'll remember that."
Then, without a wave or a sound, Varun turned.
The waters darkened around him. With a blink, he was gone—faded into the shadows of the Rift.
Dominic exhaled slowly. His hands trembled.
"That's it?" he asked.
Aegirion nodded. "For now. He was testing you. You passed."
"I didn't feel like I passed."
Aegirion walked to the crystal, knelt beside it.
"You need to be careful. This—" he tapped the stone "—is a war trigger. Every faction will want it. Nearida, Varun, even those old siren courts."
"I'm not giving it up."
"Good. Because you just made yourself their enemy."
Dominic glanced at him.
"I already was."
The throne room of Tethys was silent.
Not a hush of respect.
Not even the dread of waiting.
Just silence.
The kind that seeped through coral walls and pressed against the skin. The kind that turned guards into statues and maids into shadows.
Queen Nearida sat at the edge of her throne—legs crossed, fingers tapping against her cheek. Her eyes, twin pearls of ice, were fixed on the mirror of tidewater before her.
It pulsed.
Then rippled.
A clear image of Dominic flared across its surface. He stood defiantly in the ruins of Poseidon's temple, the Heart of the Abyss glowing behind him, Aegirion at his side.
"Foolish," she murmured. "He kept it."
A breath escaped her lips—sharp, cold.
Behind her, the tall, slender silhouette of Zarell emerged from the shadows. His body was water given form—translucent, shifting, pulsing with venomous blues. Where his face should've been, there was only a mask of white coral.
"My Queen," Zarell said, his voice like bubbling tar, "he has rejected Varun's offer."
"I saw."
"He trusts the trickster."
"Aegirion will betray him soon enough."
Nearida stood. Her gown of living seaweed trailed behind her like a tide.
"He thinks the Trident can be claimed with power alone. He doesn't understand the price."
She stepped away from the mirror. It faded into still water.
"Prepare the deep scouts. Send them beyond the rift."
"To the Siren Courts?"
"To everywhere," she said sharply. "The deep must know their Queen still holds the currents."
Zarell bowed. "And Dominic?"
She paused.
"He's becoming interesting."
A pause, then:
"But no. Not yet."
Zarell tilted his masked head. "Shall I kill the trickster?"
"No," Nearida said. "Not yet. He plays a role. Let him teach Dominic what betrayal tastes like."
She walked to the edge of the room where a sealed pillar stood. Her hand hovered over it, and it hissed open—revealing an ancient scroll, bound in Leviathan skin.
Zarell's body rippled uneasily.
"Are you… sure?"
"I need the Oracle's Map," she said. "The tide will split again. If Dominic is truly Poseidon's vessel, then the old relics will find him."
"And if he isn't?"
"Then I'll rip the truth from his bones."
Zarell vanished into mist.
Nearida stood alone again.
But not in silence.
The water began to whisper.
He's coming...
He knows…
The sea has not forgotten…
She closed her eyes and listened.
Not to the voices of gods. Not to the lies of her enemies.
But to the ancient, echoing song of the deep.
---
Cut to: The Siren Wastes.
Miles away—beyond Dominic, beyond Varun—at the edge of the realm where no light touches the trench...
A figure stirred.
Half-woman, half-shadow. Hair like drifting ink. Eyes closed.
Then—open.
She smiled.
"Dominic…"
Her voice slithered through currents that reached Nearida's chamber.
And in the Queen's heart, something shivered.