Water no longer behaved like water. It held itself unnaturally, as if it had forgotten to flow. The cold current clung to my scales in thick bands, and every motion felt too loud in the silence. My spear trembled against my palm, not from fear but from the vibration running through the shaft, something deeper than sound.
The team hovered close, fins barely moving to avoid drawing attention in the dead current. The lamps we carried shone narrow cones of light that barely pushed back the dim glow around us. It was like swimming inside a bubble of airless weight, where even the light felt smothered.
Ashekan's voice came low, edged. "Currents are wrong. Not calm, more like… stalled."
Rejah swept her reader slate in a slow arc, pale glyphs flickering like startled fish. "Residual flow's dropped, but there's something else," she murmured, almost to herself. "A pulse below us. Erratic, hungry." She slapped the side of the slate when the glyphs stuttered. "Come on, refresh, there." The pattern stabilized into a jagged heartbeat. "It's alive, whatever it is."
Yera's eyes cut across the team. "No hesitation. Kaelen, shape the flow. Guide us down."
I breathed deep through my gills, willed the pearl to brighten. Its glow stuttered, a weak teal that pulsed irregularly. It would have to do. I coaxed the water forward slowly, a ribbon of current easing open. It resisted like pushing against cold stone. Every bit of movement was hard-earned.
We moved as one, weaving between broken spire ridges, mirrors scattered around us reflecting our faint light. Their fractured edges caught in the water and bent it, throwing patterns that swirled like shadows of things not really there. For a moment, I almost swore I saw other swimmers in those reflections, but when I blinked they were gone.
The first pulse struck without warning.
A deep vibration rolled through the stone underfoot, no sound but a sensation that crawled through my bones. The water shoved outward, throwing us back in a ring. Violet motes scattered like startled prey, then streamed as one toward a fissure below the spire's root, their glow aligning like threads pulled to a needle.
"They're answering something," Veshra said tightly, her voice cutting through the dark.
Yera lifted her spear and flicked her wrist. "We follow."
The fissure dragged us in like a predator's throat. The tunnel curved, slick and lined with faintly glowing grooves. Every swirl of current twisted back, fighting me. My arms ached as I forced pathways open.
"Guide, not force," I muttered, but the tunnel didn't care. The pearl burned like an ember trying to go out.
"Keep tight!" Ashekan barked, voice strained against the turbulence.
Through my gills the water tasted metallic, sharp, as if it carried blood from a wound.
"These cuts are deliberate," Rejah called over the roar. "Not natural erosion. Someone shaped this path."
I nearly asked who, but stopped. The question didn't need answering; whoever had carved it was not meant to be here anymore.
The tunnel spat us into a dome so vast it seemed to float in twilight. No visible light source existed, yet mirrors hung suspended, cracked and whole, throwing glimmers of violet and silver in dizzying arcs. They made the water ripple in impossible ways, currents colliding in silent waves.
My reflection fractured into dozens of twisted images on the glassy shards, each one staring back wrong.
Veshra brushed the edge of one mirror. "Exiles found pieces like these in ruined shallows. Dormant, we thought. They're not dead."
Ashekan fired a quick pulse of mana at a shard. Light refracted wildly, scattering beams. One ray sliced back, nicking Rejah's gauntlet with a hiss. She hissed back, jerking her hand away.
"Unstable," Ashekan growled, flexing his scarred glove. "Dangerous."
Something shifted in the far shadow. Not the mirrors, not the water—something alive. I turned, spear rising. Not a rock. Not an echo.
The figure slid from the dark: half shadow, half flesh, edges unraveling and re-forming in violet mist. A fissure of dim light throbbed where its chest should be.
Yera's voice snapped low. "Positions. Stay ready."
Darun whispered, "That thing thinks."
It circled us, slow, deliberate. When its gaze found me, my pearl pulsed in reply, like it knew this was meant for me. The shadow sprang.
I threw up a spiral shield. The strike hit like a current surge, rattling my teeth. The shield fractured into swirling eddies. Ashekan lunged, blade biting deep, but the creature dissolved into mist, reappearing behind him, claws lashing.
"Scatter light!" Yera barked.
Thalen and Jori angled mirrored plates, beams ricocheting in blinding arcs. The creature recoiled, twisting back. I forced water into a vortex, dragging its limbs. Ashekan struck again, driving his spear into the glowing fissure.
There was no sound, only pressure that crushed my skull. Light flared. The shadow unraveled, mist curling to the dome's center.
The mist gathered around a crystalline seed embedded in the basalt. Each pulse bent the water, making it shiver. Motes orbited, their glow reverent.
Rejah floated closer, eyes wide. "Law seed," she breathed. "A relic that changes the rules beneath the current. How has it survived this long?"
"Can we break it?" Yera asked.
Veshra shook her head sharply. "If it shatters, the dome comes down on us."
"Seal it," Yera ordered.
Rejah unwound mirrored thread, fingers moving quick. Veshra tied them into a shimmering net, each strand catching the dim light. I bent currents to hold the motes back. My chest burned with every effort. Ashekan braced the anchors against pillars, holding fast. Every pulse from the seed hammered into my pearl, threatening to split it apart.
The net closed. The seed's glow dimmed to an ember. The motes scattered, their circle broken. Relief surged through the team. For a moment, I believed we were safe.
The basalt trembled. Mirrors groaned. Cracks spread, shards raining down like knives.
"Collapse!" Yera snapped.
We bolted. The water spun into chaotic currents, smashing us against stone. A jagged panel sliced Darun's pauldron, spinning him. Ashekan caught his arm, yanking him back. I spun water into a buffer, deflecting falling glass at the cost of every ounce of strength left. The pearl burned cold, my limbs numb, but I kept pushing.
Light flickered ahead, the tunnel mouth.
Then something stepped across it.
A Lithari mech stood in our path. Not like the ones we had fought. Its movements were precise, too fluid. Plates gleamed black, mana veins pulsing under its skin. Multiple organs glowed, their lights overlapping like an alien heartbeat. Even the currents seemed to bend toward it.
Yera raised her spear but didn't advance. None of us did.
The mech tilted its head, visor blank, as if studying us. Watching. Measuring. Then, as if satisfied, it turned and vanished into the dark beyond the tunnel.
My spear lowered slowly. My chest burned with every breath.
Who teaches a machine to watch like that?
It had not come to fight. It had come to learn.
And I feared what lesson it had taken.