Sean's POV
I feel a surge of panic as I realize what her glowing necklace signifies. "No!" I shout, urgency lacing my voice. My heart races, and instinct takes over as I begin to swim upward. Her need for oxygen is my top priority, and I can't afford to waste any time.
I push through the water, my strokes powerful and deliberate as I hold her in my arms, glancing back to the city below I see 3 my guards following closely. The distance to the surface seems daunting, but I focus on getting us there as quickly as possible. "Just hold on!" I urge, my voice steady despite the anxiety churning in my chest.
The water around us feels heavier as I push my tail harder, driving us upward. I can see the faint light of the surface above, and I'm determined to reach it before it's too late. However in my heart I know we won't make it. There's no way I can reach the surface before she drowns.
The urgency of the moment swells in my chest as I hold her close, feeling her struggle against the inevitable. I push through the water with everything I have, but the distance to the surface looms larger with every stroke. My heart pounds in my ears, drowning out the world around us, and I can't shake the feeling of despair creeping in.
"Just hold on!" I scream, though the words feel hollow against the weight of the situation. I glance back at the guards trailing behind us, their faces a mix of concern and determination. I know they're trying to help, but it feels like they're too far away to make a difference. The city below fades into a blur, and all that matters is the girl in my arms.
The water feels thicker now, as if it's conspiring against us. I push harder, my tail driving me upward with every ounce of strength I can muster. But deep down, I can feel the truth creeping in—that she will not make it. The silence of the ocean wraps around us, heavy and oppressive.
With each passing second, I can see the fleeting hope in her eyes dimming. I know she can't hold her breath much longer. My heart shatters as I realize we've barely begun to explore the depths of what we could have together. "Please!" I whisper into the water, sending a prayer to the sea god, and to the goddess of love, to anyone who might listen. "Don't let the ocean take her!"
Three minutes pass, and I watch in horror as her body instinctively gasps for air. I close my eyes, a wave of nausea washing over me as I know what that means. The water is unforgiving, and I can't bear the thought of losing her like this. Each second feels like an eternity, the weight of impending loss crashing down on me. I push harder, my fingers trembling against her skin, desperate to bring her back to the surface. But deep in my heart, I fear it's too late.
I cling to Savanna's body, my heart heavy with grief, the ocean around us eerily still as I fight to reach the surface. Her form is limp in my arms, and a cold realization washes over me—I'm too late. The weight of that knowledge crushes me, and my guards trail behind, their presence a distant echo in the depths of despair I now find myself submerged in.
Anger and sorrow swirl within me like a violent storm, emotions colliding in a way I can't articulate. She's dying, or maybe she's already gone, and I can't even stop to check—I have to get her to the surface. I have to. The thought drives me forward, but each stroke feels heavier, as if the water itself is mourning alongside me.
Tears stream down my face, though they are swallowed by the ocean around us. I can't help but think of all those nights I spent watching her from a distance, captivated by the light she brought into my world. Why hadn't I been brave enough to approach her? To tell her how I felt? The regret gnaws at me, sharp and relentless. I should have courted her, should have made my intentions clear. I wanted her to be my queen, to share a life filled with laughter and love, but now that future feels impossibly out of reach.
With every desperate kick toward the surface, I grapple with the weight of my unspoken words and missed opportunities. "I'm sorry, Savanna," I whisper to the water, my voice cracking as I fight against the rising tide of grief. "I should have told you…" But the words fall away, lost in the depths, just like her. All I can do is push onward, praying for a miracle as I cling to the hope that maybe, just maybe, I can still save her.