There are moments in the sea when even the currents hold their breath.
No movement.
No light.
No sound.
This was one of those moments.
The Second Choir had fallen.
Dominic still stood.
But in the silence that followed, something deeper stirred.
Something older than Lyrielle.
Older than Poseidon.
Older than war.
A silence not of peace…
But of warning.
---
Dominic's Stillness
He floated above the shattered reef, barely moving.
Maelora and Varun hovered nearby, silent for once. Even Varun's usual snark was gone. Something in Dominic had changed.
Not his power.
Not his soul.
His presence.
It was like the sea leaned toward him now—not to worship, but to listen.
He looked at his hands.
Still trembling slightly. Still glowing.
> "That wasn't just a battle," he muttered. "That was a… test."
Maelora gave him a sideways glance.
> "You think Lyrielle's done?"
> "No," Dominic replied, his voice steadier now. "She's only just begun."
---
