Kael had always pushed limits. Trenches. Wrecks. Ghost zones. But this one this place
—it didn't want to be found.
The ocean changed as he descended. Currents coiled. Pressure spiked. His suit flickered. Systems failed one by one—shutting down not from damage, but like something else had taken control.
Then the veil broke.
Kael was dragged into darkness - not drowning, but falling through a silence deeper than the sea itself.
He awoke suspended, body upright, limbs cradled by a second skin not his own. The suit clung to him, semi-organic, adapting to every micro-movement like it was reading his thoughts.
But he wasn't alone.
Figures moved behind a curved translucent wall—humanoid, but different. Faint bioluminescent patterns shimmered across their skin. Eyes without pupils. Fins like silk where ears should be.
They didn't speak.
They thought — and Kael's mind heard.
"He's alive." "He broke the seal." "Kill him. Now."
Kael gritted his teeth as mental pressure built, voices stabbing into his skull.
"He cannot leave. Not again." "Their kind only brings fire."
Then, a quieter voice—a different current among the tide.
"He's not armed. He's confused. Let us learn." "If he speaks for the surface, we must know what it's become."
Kael floated in silence, caught between execution and curiosity.
Then a female stepped forward. She lacked the glowing features of the others. Her gaze was steady, ancient.
"Once, we sent an envoy to your world. Peacefully. Quietly. Your kind murdered them. They could not touch our technology, so they burned the bodies instead."
A wave of sorrow passed through the chamber.
"Since then, we've hidden. Not out of fear. But to protect the world from itself."
"You are a breach, Kael."
Kael flinched. They knew his name.
"Some want to erase you. Others want answers. But no one wants to be found. Remember that."
He wasn't a guest.
He was a question they hadn't agreed on how to answer.