Ciela perched atop Pluma Ligera, her giant bird's talons dug into the jagged cliffs overlooking Lago de la Serpiente. The crater lake lay half-shrouded in Marya's mist, its obsidian waters shimmering like liquid night under the ash-choked sky. Her fingers tightened on the reins as she scanned the horizon, her Sky Rider armor—a breastplate of lacquered feathers and volcanic glass—digging into her ribs. The air reeked of sulfur and damp stone, and the distant cries of Cielo's Children echoed like ghostly hymns.
Then she saw it.
The mist writhed, its silver tendrils recoiling as the lake's surface began to churn. Waves surged against the Polar Tang's hull, not from wind, but from something below—something vast. But it was Ixtabay's Gate that stole her breath. The monolithic archway, carved with serpents devouring suns and moons, pulsed with a faint crimson glow. The runes etched into its stone—ancient sigils of the Primordial Current—burned like embers, their light bleeding into the water like blood.
"No…" Ciela whispered, her voice swallowed by the wind. The legends flooded her mind: When the gate bleeds, the serpent wakes.
Pluma Ligera shrieked, sensing her rider's panic. Ciela yanked the reins, wheeling the bird toward Aerion's Perch. As they ascended, the lake's turmoil worsened. Waves clawed at the Tang, and the mist thinned just enough to reveal the Ground Dwellers' diving bells bobbing near the ruins—tiny, foolish specks tempting fate.
Zephyr watched from the shadows of Teocalli de la Serpiente, his smirk hidden beneath a helmet forged to resemble a bird of prey. His mount, Viento Brutal, a scarred giant with wings like storm clouds, shifted restlessly beneath him. The rogue Sky Rider had been tracking Ciela for hours, waiting for weakness. Now, as she streaked toward Aerion's stronghold, he urged Viento Brutal into a dive, cutting her off mid-flight.
"Little Ciela," Zephyr purred, his voice slick as oil. "Running to tattle to Aerion? How… predictable."
Ciela pulled Pluma Ligera into a hover, her bird's ochre eyes narrowing at Zephyr's approach. "The gate is alive," she hissed. "The Current—it's reacting to the outsiders!"
Zephyr's gaze flicked to the glowing runes, his smirk widening. "Or finally awakening. The god stirs, Ciela. And you'd have Aerion chain it back to sleep?" He leaned forward, his armor creaking. "Join me. Together, we could harness that power—break the Sky Riders' shackles."
"You're mad," Ciela spat, though her hands trembled. "The sea monster will drown us all!"
"Only those too weak to ride the storm," Zephyr countered, banking his bird sharply. "Think on it, little scout. Before the gate bites."
He vanished into the ash haze, leaving Ciela's heart racing.
Aerion stood at the edge of his perch, Vuelo Magnifico's talons gouging the stone beside him. The Sky Lord's obsidian cloak billowed like a funeral shroud, his helmet's feathered crest slicing the wind. Below, the lake seethed, the gate's glow staining the mist crimson.
"Lord Aerion!" Ciela landed clumsily, dismounting before her bird had fully settled. "The runes—the Current—it's reacting! The beast—"
"Silence." Aerion's voice was a blade. He strode to the cliff's edge, his dark eyes reflecting the gate's hellish light. "The outsiders… they trespass where even the Current fears to flow."
"Zephyr spoke to me," Ciela blurted, desperate. "He wants to awaken the god. He thinks—!"
"Zephyr thinks nothing but his own ambition," Aerion interrupted, his hand tightening on his sword's hilt. "The gate's awakening changes nothing. The Sky Riders will uphold our oath."
But as he spoke, the lake erupted. A geyser of black water shot skyward, carrying with it the guttural roar of the sleeping sea monster. The gate's runes blazed brighter, their light now lancing through the mist like spears.
"Sound the horns," Aerion commanded, his voice colder than the depths. "Ready the flock. If the god stirs, we will be the blade that silences it."
Ciela mounted Pluma Ligera, her stomach churning. As she soared to relay the order, she glanced back. The gate's glow had spread, staining the entire lake red—a serpent's eye opening after centuries of sleep.
And somewhere in the volcanic shadows, Zephyr laughed.
The air inside the Polar Tang turned electric, thick with the scent of awakening power. Marya staggered back from the porthole, her fingers clawing at the hilt of Eternal Eclipse as its obsidian blade erupted in crimson runes. The symbols pulsed in time with the hellish glow of Ixtabay's Gate, their light searing through the mist like twin heartbeats. Her arms—already threaded with the inky veins of the Void—burned as though molten lead coursed through them.
"Marya!" Law barked, his voice cutting through the sub's clamor. He gripped her shoulder, but she wrenched away, her eyes blazing.
One eye—the left—shone blinding white, tendrils of mist spiraling from its iris like smoke. The right had turned pitch-black, the Void's corruption bleeding into the sclera until it resembled a starless night. Her voice, when it came, was a fractured echo of itself. "It's… calling…"
Tepec lunged forward, his staff slamming against the floor. "The Current binds her! The gate's runes—they resonate with her sword!"
Outside, the lake exploded.
Lago de la Serpiente erupted in a maelstrom of black water and ash. The mist tore apart as geysers shot skyward, carrying debris from the submerged ruins—stone pillars carved with serpents, corroded bronze gears, and the skeletal remains of Lunarians still clad in molten armor. The beast's roar shook the island to its roots, a sound so deep it bypassed the ears and rattled directly in the chest.
Bepo screamed, clamping his paws over his ears as the Tang listed violently. "C-Captain! The hull—it's buckling!"
Jean Bart braced himself against the helm, his massive frame straining to keep the sub upright. "We're sitting ducks in this storm!"
The Ground Dwellers panicked. Ixtli bellowed orders, trying to rally his warriors, but Nenetl collapsed to her knees, clutching her effigy of Tlaloc as she chanted a prayer. Xochi scrambled to gather her scattered scrolls, her voice shrill. "The gate's runes—they're a lock! The sword is the key!"
"Key to what?!" Penguin yelled, dodging a falling pipe.
"The god's prison!"
Marya's knees hit the floor, Eternal Eclipse trembling in her grip. The blade's runes now mirrored the gate's exactly, their glow fusing into a single searing beam that lanced through the Tang's hull. The Void veins on her arms writhed, spreading toward her neck like poisoned roots.
"Law—!" Tepec grabbed the captain's arm, his face ashen. "The Primordial Current is using her as a conduit! If the sword fully awakens—"
"I know!" Law snarled, his tattoos flaring as he summoned a Room. The blue sphere enveloped Marya, but the Void repelled it, the black veins hissing like serpents. "Dammit, Marya—fight it!"
She couldn't answer. The mist and Void warred inside her, tearing at her senses. The white eye saw fragments of the Current—a river of light beneath the lake, chained to the beast's monstrous form. The black eye saw only hunger, an abyss that wanted to devour.
Outside, the lake's surface split.
A gargantuan claw breached the water, its scales glistening with bioluminescent algae that pulsed like a sickly heartbeat. Then another. Then a head—a nightmare fusion of eel and dragon, its jaws lined with teeth like shattered obelisks. The sleeping sea monster rose, its body uncoiling for miles, water cascading from its hide in torrents. Its eyes, twin voids deeper than Marya's, locked onto the Tang.
"By the Current…" Tepec whispered, horror-struck.
The Ground Dwellers froze, their chants dying mid-syllable. Even Ixtli paled, his macuahuitl slipping from his grip.
"Move!" Law roared, yanking Marya upright. Her sword's beam now speared directly into the beast's chest, where a massive, glowing rune pulsed—a twin to the gate's. "She's not the key—she's the trigger!"
The beast roared again, and the lake became a whirlpool. The Tang spun, its hull screeching as it was dragged toward the beast's maw. Bepo and Jean Bart wrestled the helm, but the sub was powerless against the Current's pull.
Marya's voice finally broke through, raw and ragged. "Law—cut the sword! Now!"
"It'll kill you!"
"Better than this!"
Law's nodachi flashed, its blade humming as he activated Amputate. But before he could strike, the sea monster's claw slammed into the Tang.
Metal screamed. Water flooded the deck.
And the world went black.
The Sky Riders descended from the ash-choked heavens like vengeful angels, their Cielo's Children shrieking as they plunged toward the seam monster. Aerion led the charge astride Vuelo Magnifico, his obsidian armor glinting under the gate's hellish glow, his feathered cloak billowing like a war banner. The giant bird's talons flexed, ready to rend flesh from bone, as Aerion raised his sword—a relic forged in Vulcan's Forge, its blade etched with glyphs of storms and sacrifice.
"For Tlalocan!" Aerion roared, his voice a thunderclap.
The flock followed, a hundred riders diving in synchronized fury. Obsidian-tipped lances gleamed as they struck the beast's hide, but the beast's scales—thick as fortress walls and shimmering with bioluminescent algae—repelled most blows. The monster swung a claw the size of a galleon, swatting riders from the sky like insects. Birds and men plummeted into the lake, their screams swallowed by the whirlpool's roar.
Ciela banked hard, avoiding a torrent of water the beast spewed from its maw. Her heart pounded as she nocked a flaming arrow, its tip dipped in Tlaloc's Blood—a volatile resin that ignited on contact. "Aim for the eyes!" she screamed, loosing the arrow. It struck the beast's lidless orb, erupting in a geyser of green fire. The beast recoiled, its roar shaking loose avalanches of ash from the cliffs.
Zephyr materialized beside her, his scarred bird weaving through the chaos. "Foolish girl! You'll only enrage it!" He hurled a hooked chain, its barbed end embedding in the beast's neck. "This is how you tame a god!"
Aerion ignored them, his focus razor-sharp. Vuelo Magnifico spiraled around the beast's thrashing tail, dodging geysers of black water. The Sky Lord's sword hummed as he channeled the Primordial Current, its glyphs blazing blue-white. With a cry that echoed the island's ancient wars, he drove the blade into the beast's shoulder, aiming for the glowing rune beneath its scales—a twin to the one on Marya's sword.
The beast howled, its pain seismic. The lake boiled, and Ixtabay's Gate's crimson light flared, its runes now bleeding into the sky like liquid fire. The ground trembled, and the ruins of Xochitlán Plaza crumbled further, swallowing petrified Lunarians whole.
Inside the Tang, Law dragged Marya from the flooding deck, her sword still fused to the beast's infernal beam. "Tepec!" he shouted. "How do we sever the link?!"
The elder clung to a pipe, his staff's serpent carving now cracked. "The gate and the sword—they are mirrors! Shatter one, and the other falls!"
"Easier said—" Law ducked as the sub lurched, thrown sideways by the beast's thrashing. "Bepo! Get us clear!"
Aerion's blade slipped, the beast's blood—thick and iridescent—slicking his grip. Vuelo Magnifico screeched as a claw grazed its wing, sending them careening toward the water. Aerion snarled, driving his sword deeper, twisting. The rune flickered.
"NOW!" he bellowed to his riders.
The flock converged, a suicide squad of Sky Riders plunging lances into the beast's wounds. Ciela's arrows peppered its eyes, each ignition buying seconds. Zephyr's chains tangled its limbs, anchoring it to the lakebed.
With a final, deafening roar, the beast wrenched itself free. The gate's light snapped like a severed cord, and the beast plunged beneath the waves, dragging Zephyr's chains—and Zephyr himself—into the abyss.
"NO!" Ciela screamed, diving after him, but the whirlpool swallowed them both.
The lake fell still.
The interior of the Polar Tang was a tomb of tension. Water sloshed ankle-deep across the tilted floor, mingling with oil and ash to form a toxic sludge that reeked of burnt metal and salt. Emergency lights flickered erratically, casting jagged shadows over the crew's haggard faces. Ixtli stood rigid at a cracked porthole, his obsidian armor streaked with grime, the serpent sigil on his chest piece glinting faintly. Outside, the lake's surface had gone unnervingly still, but the sky seethed with motion.
"Sky Riders," Ixtli growled, his voice gravelly with disdain. "Aerion and his flock."
Shachi, perched on a listing console with a bandage wrapped haphazardly around his head, squinted. "Sky what? Are they like… bird cops?"
Xochi pushed past a shuddering Nenetl, her scholar's robes stained with lake water and soot. She gripped the edge of a bolted-down table to steady herself, her eyes sharp behind cracked spectacles. "They are the guardians," she said, her tone edged with bitterness. "Or so they claim. Centuries ago, when the volcano buried our cities in ash, the island split. The Sky Riders retreated to the cliffs, bonding with Cielo's Children—" She gestured to the giant birds circling outside, their leathery wings blotting out the ashen sky. "—while we Ground Dwellers remained among the ruins, tending to the Primordial Current and the secrets it left behind."
Penguin tossed a mangled wrench into a flooded corner. "So they get fancy birds, and you get… mummies?"
Xochi's jaw tightened. "The Lunarians you see petrified in the ash—they were once rulers here, beings of fire and flight. When the volcano erupted, their wings melted, their screams silenced mid-breath. The Sky Riders believe the eruption was punishment for the Lunarians' arrogance. They see themselves as the island's new protectors, destined to keep the Volcanic God dormant… even if it means crushing anyone who dares seek its power."
Law leaned against a buckled bulkhead, his amber eyes narrowed. "Including you."
"Including us," Xochi confirmed. "They hoard the skies, scorch our crops, and call it 'sacred duty.' But the Current flows through all of Tlalocan—sky, stone, and sea. They fear what they cannot control."
Outside, Aerion's flock descended in a lethal spiral, their birds' talons skimming the water as they scanned for survivors. Bepo whimpered, his fur plastered flat. "Th-they look like they want to peck our eyes out!"
Ixtli slammed a fist against the porthole. "Aerion would sooner drown us all than let outsiders 'defile' his precious balance. To him, we are heretics—just like the Lunarians."
Tepec emerged from the shadows, his staff's serpent carving now split down the middle. "The Sky Riders are not wrong to fear. The sleeping sea monster was but one guardian. The volcano's heart beats still, and the Current… it changes those who meddle." His gaze lingered on Marya's void-marked arms before shifting to Law. "Leave this place, Captain. Before Aerion decides your bones belong to the lake."
A sudden thud rocked the Tang as a massive bird landed on the hull, its talons screeching against metal. Through the porthole, Aerion's silhouette loomed—a figure of obsidian and wrath, his blade unsheathed and dripping with the beast's iridescent blood.
"Or," Law muttered, his nodachi humming to life, "we skip the small talk."
The crew braced, the air thick with the scent of ozone and inevitability. Somewhere in the lake's abyssal dark, the beast stirred again—and the gate's runes flickered as if laughing.
Aerion landed on the Tang's battered hull; his armor cracked, and his cloak singed. Below, the Ground Dwellers and Heart Pirates emerged from the sub, their faces pale with shock. Marya's sword had gone dark, her veins receding—for now.
"You… saved us," Tepec rasped, staring at Aerion.
The Sky Lord sheathed his sword, his dark eyes cold. "I saved Tlalocan." He turned to Law. "Leave. Before the Current demands a heavier price."
As the Sky Riders retreated, their cries mournful, the gate's runes dimmed to embers. But deep in the lake, something stirred—a chain, a laugh, a promise.
The god was not done.
And neither was Zephyr.
*****
The whirlpool's maw swallowed Zephyr and Ciela whole, its vortex yanking them into the abyss with the force of a dying star. Water roared in their ears, pressure crushing their lungs as they spiraled deeper, tangled in the beast's chains. Zephyr's scarred bird, Viento Brutal, thrashed in vain, its wings snapping against stone pillars that rose like teeth from the lakebed. Ciela's Pluma Ligera screeched, its talons raking Zephyr's armor—obsidian plates carved with jagged feather motifs, now dented and streaked with iridescent blood.
The world went black.
When the water stilled, they found themselves in a cavernous chamber, its walls lined with Lunarian relics—petrified wings fused to stone, skeletal hands clutching rusted spears, and frescoes depicting a civilization swallowed by fire. Bioluminescent algae clung to the ceiling, casting a sickly green glow over everything. The air was thick, not with water, but with a viscous, breathable liquid—Primordial Current, distilled to its purest form. It burned Zephyr's throat like liquor as he staggered upright, his helmet cracked, revealing a face sharp with ambition and a jagged scar across his cheekbone.
"Welcome," he rasped, "to Tlaloc's cradle."
Ciela gagged, her Sky Rider armor—once polished volcanic glass and azure feathers—now dulled by silt. She ripped off her helmet, her braided hair unraveling into a dark cloud around her face. "This… this is the god's prison?"
Zephyr gestured to the chamber's center, where a massive chain anchored to the floor stretched upward into darkness. The links, each as thick as a mast, were etched with runes that pulsed faintly—mirrors of Ixtabay's Gate. "Not a prison. A leash." He pressed a hand to the nearest wall, where a Lunarian fresco showed winged figures bowing to a volcano. "Our ancestors didn't worship Tlaloc—they enslaved it. Used its fire to forge empires. Until it rebelled."
Ciela's eyes widened. "The eruption… it wasn't a punishment. It was a revolt."
"And the Sky Riders?" Zephyr laughed, bitter. "Aerion's precious 'guardians'? They're just jailers. But the god's waking now. And I'll be the one holding the chain."
A tremor shook the chamber. From the shadows, the beast's massive eye opened—a yellow slit pupil fixed on Zephyr. Its body coiled around the chain, scales rasping like grinding stone.
"You're mad," Ciela hissed, backing toward a fissure in the wall. "The Current will drown us all!"
"The Current chooses," Zephyr snapped, drawing a dagger forged from celestial brass—a metal only found in the volcano's heart. He plunged it into the chain, the blade screeching as it carved through ancient enchantments. "And it chose me."
The runes flared crimson. Somewhere above, Ixtabay's Gate groaned.
Ciela lunged, but the beast struck, its tail slamming her into the wall. As the chamber shook, Zephyr's laughter echoed through the depths—a promise, and a curse.
The leash was breaking.
And Tlaloc was hungry.