The crack widened, slowly—quietly.
It didn't roar or thunder.
It just… spread.
Like forgotten ink bleeding through an ancient scroll.
Poseidon stared at it, his breath caught. Around him, the Choir of Tides faltered. Notes dropped. Harmonies fractured. The water shifted with unease.
> "Keep singing," he ordered sharply, but his voice held a tremble.
Maelora took the lead, her voice rising in defiance, strong and sharp. Some followed. Others hesitated.
And then—
A single voice screamed.
One of the tidecallers dropped to her knees, clutching her head.
> "It's in me! It's inside—!"
She gasped, then fell silent. Not unconscious.
Erased.
Her name vanished from the current. Her face blurred. Even the sea around her rippled as if confused she'd ever been there.
The Hollow Sea had claimed its first voice.
---
Unseen and Undone
Poseidon moved quickly, diving to the afflicted woman. But when he reached her, only her shell remained. Not dead—hollow.
Maelora knelt beside him.
