Some tides rise gently.
Some come with warning.
And some break the world open.
This one?
It came for you.
The night it began, you and Lumian stood in the shallows, the sea quiet around your ankles. You felt it before you saw it.
A pressure.
Not in your chest, but in the air—thick, humming, ancient.
Then the water began to pull back.
Not just a wave, not a ripple—the entire sea recoiling like it feared what came next.
Lumian grabbed your hand, his voice low. "It's here."
You didn't ask how he knew. You felt it too.
A silence so deep it shook your bones.
And then, from the darkness beyond the horizon…
It rose.
A shape—massive and coiled in shadow, taller than mountains, moving with a grace that didn't belong to anything so big. It didn't roar. It didn't scream. It simply was.
A god?
A force?
A memory?
You couldn't say.
But Lumian's grip tightened. "That's not from the Deep."
You turned to him. "Then where?"
He looked at you, his blue eyes no longer glowing—but reflecting something… older.
"From before it."
The creature didn't come to shore.
Not yet.
But its presence rippled through everything.
The tides wouldn't rise past your knees now.
The wind carried whispers in a tongue you almost understood.
Fish surfaced belly-up, as if in mourning.
And the stars—stopped falling.
The world was holding its breath again.
The next night, you had a dream—but this time, it was his.
You saw through Lumian's eyes.
He was a child beneath the waves, surrounded by shimmering light, being watched by the Deep.
Voices called him "vessel."
Called him "key."
Called him "bridge."
And one voice—lower, rougher, not of water—said:
"You will wake the one below. And when you do… you will not belong to yourself."
You woke choking on saltwater, lungs gasping like you'd been drowning.
Lumian sat beside you, pale and wide-eyed. "You saw it."
You nodded. "What does it mean?"
He looked away, jaw tight. "It means I brought it here."
The storm hit the next day.
Rain that cut sideways. Waves that clawed at the cliffs. And through it all, you saw glimpses of that shape—just offshore. Waiting. Watching.
Lumian stood at the edge, soaked, shirt plastered to his skin, face carved from shadow and lightning.
"I have to go to it," he said.
"No."
His eyes met yours. "If it's here for me, I can't let it take you too."
You stepped forward, grabbed his wrist. "We fight it together. Or not at all."
His mouth parted, like he wanted to argue.
But then you kissed him.
Not soft.
Not sweet.
Fierce.
Like you were anchoring him to this world.
Like your lips were the storm, and he was choosing to stay in it.
And when you pulled back, your foreheads touched.
He whispered, "Then let's face the god beneath us."
That night, you entered the sea again. Hand in hand.
Not as lovers.
As protectors.
As chosen.
As two hearts carrying a fire the ocean itself bowed to.
The being waited in the depths, its body made of void and memory, its voice a current that coiled around your minds.
"You woke me."
You didn't speak.
"You bound yourselves. And in doing so… broke the gate."
Lumian raised his head. "Then let us fix it."
"There is no fixing. Only becoming."
The creature's lightless eyes fixed on you.
"One of you will remain. One of you must carry me back to the dark."
The ocean shuddered.
Lumian stepped forward without hesitation.
But you—
You grabbed him.
And you said, "No."
Not again. Not like this.
Then something inside you cracked wide open.
Light surged from your chest—blinding, wild, salt-born and star-bright. The creature reeled. The ocean roared.
And your voice filled the Deep.
"We are not your vessels. We are your ending."
The battle didn't happen with blades.
It happened in will.
In love.
In refusing to give either.
You stood with Lumian, your hands linked, your hearts flaring with everything you'd shared—every touch, every kiss, every moment in the moonlight and under the waves.
And the sea—chose you.
It rose, not in anger, but in strength.
It swept the creature back, wrapped it in memory, and sealed it in a prison of your making.
One forged in love.
And choice.
When you returned to the surface, the stars had returned.
Falling again—slowly, softly.
The wind kissed your skin like a welcome home.
And Lumian?
He looked at you like he'd never loved you more.
"You didn't just save me," he whispered. "You changed everything."
You smiled, breathless. "We changed it."