As Theros's golden flames dimmed to a soft glow, the crew regrouped. The tension in the water was palpable, like the stillness before a storm. Calista swam closer, her emerald eyes flicking warily over the vast, lightless expanse ahead.
"Anyone else feel like the shadows weren't trying to kill us?" she murmured, her sharp claws twitching nervously. "More like... testing us?"
Durak grunted, hefting his battle-worn axe over one shoulder. "If that was a test, I'd hate to see the exam." He paused, his crimson eye narrowing as he scanned the abyss. "Still feels wrong. Like we didn't win—just got past the first gate."
Vaelora nodded, her voice quiet but resolute. "Durak's right. This was no victory—just an invitation to go deeper."
Theros rolled his shoulders, the aching fatigue in his muscles evident, but his grin refused to falter. "An invitation, huh? Well, who am I to say no to a little hospitality?" He glanced back at the crew, his eyes narrowing. "But if we're walking into its lair, we don't do it blind. Regroup, check your gear. Vaelora, scout ahead. Merrik, give us a light field—we're not going anywhere until we're ready."
For a moment, the crew hesitated, startled by the sudden shift in his tone. It wasn't the usual cheeky bravado but something sharper, more commanding. Vaelora gave a curt nod, already swimming ahead with her glowing blade casting pale streaks of light. Merrik planted his trident into the ocean floor, a pulse of energy rippling outward to create a shimmering field of bioluminescence. The light pushed back the immediate darkness but revealed little of what lay beyond.
Rythen spoke softly, his youthful voice trembling slightly. "Those whispers... they felt real. Like they knew me. Knew us."
The prince's expression softened as he clapped a reassuring hand on Rythen's shoulder. "They're lies, kid. They want to make you doubt yourself, want to break you before you can fight back." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But you're stronger than that. Remember? You're running with me. And I don't let my crew fall."
cualen listened closely but rolled his eyes at the end
Rythen managed a faint smile, emboldened by Theros's confidence. Nysa, in her selkie form, drifted near, her dark eyes watching the void intently. "It's shifting," she said, her voice calm but unnervingly direct. "The water. The pressure. Something is moving—something big."
"Fantastic," Theros muttered, the grin slipping back into place. "It wouldn't be a proper adventure without the main event." He turned toward Vaelora, who was gliding back into the group with a grim look.
"There's a descent ahead," she reported. "A fissure, wide enough for the vessel but steep. The whispers are stronger there, and I saw movement. Whatever's waiting, it's not subtle."
"Great. A steep dive into the mouth of madness," Merrik said, his voice tinged with sarcasm. "Exactly what I signed up for."
"Good thing we're not alone, eh?" Theros replied, a flicker of humor in his eyes. He straightened, his flames flickering back to life. "All right, crew. This is it—the threshold. If you're scared, I don't blame you. I'd be worried if you weren't. But remember this: we didn't come this far just to turn back. The Abyss is big, dark, and ugly, but it hasn't met us yet."
Durak barked a laugh, shouldering his axe. "Let's show it what it's messing with, then."
Theros gave a sharp nod, his grin sharpening into a feral smile. "Now that's the spirit. Everyone back in the vessel. If this fissure's the door, we're kicking it in."
The crew swam to the obsidian ship, its golden runes pulsing faintly as they boarded. Theros lingered a moment longer, staring down into the faint glow of the fissure below. His golden eyes narrowed as he felt the Abyss's pull—a vast, incomprehensible hunger pressing against his soul.
"You're not scaring me," he muttered, his voice low but defiant. "You're just making me curious."
With that, he followed the crew aboard. The ship's runes surged to life, and the vessel began its slow descent into the chasm. The light from the surface above faded entirely, leaving only the soft glow of the ship's runes and the oppressive blackness pressing in from all sides.
As they descended, the whispers returned, stronger and more insidious. But this time, they weren't just words—they carried images: distorted memories, fears, regrets. For each member of the crew, they were different, personal, and razor-sharp.
Theros clenched his fists as the images clawed at his mind, but he pushed through, his golden flames burning brighter as though fueled by sheer will. "Stay with me!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the encroaching despair. "This is just the Abyss playing tricks. Hold the line!"
The crew's resolve strengthened, their focus anchoring them against the Abyss's psychological assault. The fissure widened ahead, revealing a vast, shadowy chamber littered with the remnants of ancient, cyclopean structures. And in the center, something stirred—a colossal, coiled mass of shadow and crystalline light, waiting with an unsettling stillness.
Theros exhaled sharply, his flames flaring one last time. "Looks like the tea party's main guest finally showed up," he said, his grin fierce. "Let's give them a proper hello."