The last thing I remembered… was pain.
The sensation of every single bone in my body—breaking. One by one. A
After that… I remembered water and submerging.
A hollow numbness taking over as consciousness slipped from me.
So yes, I could believe their story about them saving me. It wasn't implausible.
Because I couldn't exactly deny the reality in front of me.
"This is an underwater architecture," I muttered under my breath. No matter how much I tried to rationalize it, the evidence was overwhelming. The structures, the glistening coral embedded into the design, the fluid movements...
Everything around me confirmed it.
I could feel the water against my skin. I could touch it—see the ripples when I moved. And yet… I could breathe.
That made no sense.
No human without innate water affinity—or some artifact—could possibly breathe underwater unaided. It defied common magical understanding. And yet here I was, inhaling without resistance. Breathing without pain.
