By the time they returned to the reef gates, the ocean had changed.
Currents moved against their usual flow, and the sky above the surface shimmered with unnatural light. Korrin glanced upward with a deep frown etched into his face. "The barrier's weakening. Something's forcing the surface and sea to merge."
Selene's chest ached with dread. "Isaac... he must've found a way to unlock the artifact. He's breaking the seal."
They ascended through the coral arches, breaching the surface beside the hidden cove where Selene's father once docked his old research vessel. Now, the boat that bobbed there bore the mark of Isaac's private lab.
Korrin's eyes darkened. "He's here."
Selene and Korrin climbed aboard silently. The deck was littered with crates stamped with deep-sea relic tags, vials filled with glowing blue liquid, and parchment papers soaked from sea mist.
They found Isaac below deck, hunched over the artifact—an obsidian orb wrapped in silver tendrils. It pulsed with each breath he took.
He didn't look up. "I wondered how long it would take you to come back."
"You stole something that never belonged to you," Selene said.
Isaac finally met her eyes—red-rimmed, sleepless, and cold. "My father died trying to make this world understand. They laughed at him. Called him a madman. But this... this is the proof."
Korrin stepped forward, protective. "This is a weapon. You don't know what you've awakened."
Isaac laughed bitterly. "Oh, I do. The Ocean's Heart listens to blood. And guess what? Mine sings louder than hers."
Selene's heart thudded. "You don't understand. The Heart isn't a tool—it's a living entity. It remembers betrayal."
"Then let it remember me as the one who made the world bow."
The orb surged, releasing a blast of force that knocked them back. Waves crashed against the boat as clouds formed overhead, swirling like a summoned storm.
Korrin leapt forward, grappling with Isaac. The two struggled, the orb flickering in response to their anger. Selene felt the pull again—the chant, like a siren song.
She whispered the words through clenched teeth:
"Naerai sol'thira... cal'dor en merial..."
Light erupted from her palms. The orb trembled.
Isaac screamed. "No! It listens to me!"
But the orb cracked.
A figure emerged from the split—an ancient guardian of the tides, a spirit shaped from salt and sorrow. Its voice boomed like thunder:
"You have awakened the judgment of the sea. Blood will balance what blood has broken."
Isaac tried to run. The spirit's tendrils of water wrapped around him, dragging him toward the sea.
Selene cried, "Wait! Don't kill him!"
The spirit paused.
Korrin's hand found hers. "Only you can stop this. Call it back. Bind it with your will."
Selene closed her eyes and whispered a new verse—not from memory, but from within:
"Balance, not vengeance, Truth, not wrath, Heal the tide, Restore the path."
The spirit dissolved into mist. The orb shattered.
Isaac lay unconscious, breathing but broken.
Korrin held Selene tightly. "It's not over yet. But you've shifted the tide."
Above them, the storm began to clear.
Below, the ocean sang.