The chamber was quiet at last, but not peacefully so. Frost clung to the heart's cables, shimmering faintly like moonlight trapped in cracked glass. Every few moments the metal flexed underneath, popping shards of frost loose that drifted slowly toward the floor. Each sound echoed sharp in the silence. The heart was only sleeping, and its breathing was too slow to trust.
I tried matching my own breaths to the pearl's now steady rhythm, using the pattern to keep myself calm. The battle haze had drained, but so had my strength. The ache behind my eyes pulsed like a tide surge. For the first time since entering, I allowed myself to see the sheer scale of the thing: the heart's sphere loomed high and patient, its surface a shifting patchwork of scarred metal and dull amber runes.
Lis crouched beside me, wiping condensation from the crack in her visor. "First assignment," she muttered, "and I nearly lost my head to a wall that hates us. Sergeant will either laugh or kill me."
I smirked despite the exhaustion. "If you tell it right, maybe she'll do both."
Lis let out a weak laugh. "Guess that makes it worth it."
The light from our helms stretched long arcs over the floor, picking out dim patterns in the runes that almost looked like veins themselves. They seemed to be watching us. I flexed my wrist. The crystal brace was still fractured, aching with each pulse of the pearl. I could almost hear the demi-god's voice, reminding me, you guide currents; you do not own them.
Echo-Hand moved slowly along the sphere's surface, palm hovering close but never touching. His posture carried reverence, almost fear. "Stone cords rest," he said. "Cut them again, and they bleed."
Ashekan stood with his spear planted, helmet tilted slightly. "Cords or veins, they almost cooked us alive."
Echo-Hand's eyes never left the heart. "The reef bled once. An old Exile tale says a lung cracked itself open to swallow a plague. It devoured the shadow, but the water starved."
Rejah stopped mid-note, glancing at him with curiosity as she recorded his words. Lis whispered a prayer to the reef god under her breath. The weight of this place pressed into our scales.
Rejah knelt and placed three locator crystals, their low hum vibrating through my teeth. When she slid one under a rune, turquoise tracers spilled outward, mapping glowing lines across the floor. The tunnels lit up like living roots spreading through stone.
"Veins," Veshra said, eyes scanning the glow. "Carrying slurry from lungs to heart."
Ashekan narrowed his eyes. "Slurry? Shadow waste, organ fluid?"
"Both," she said grimly. "And something worse."
We slipped into the nearest vein tunnel. The ceiling pressed low; our fins brushed walls that pulsed faintly with each heartbeat of the machine. Amber rivulets slid in narrow grooves, hissing softly as they went. The sound prickled my gills. The heat rising from the channels felt unnatural, like a forge breathing.
The fluid shimmered like molten glass threaded with stars. Light from it reflected off our armor, twisting in ripples across the walls. My lateral line tingled with every pulse. "The pearl doesn't like this," I whispered.
Veshra tapped her slate. "High mana density. Respect it, or it will bite."
Her gauge needle shook, readings spiking. Shadow residue coiled through the data, dormant but waiting. I shaped a small water shield to keep stray droplets away and felt tremors in my fingers. The pearl's veins glowed faint teal through my wrist. Exhaustion clawed at my edges. Echo-Hand traced the grooves with a hand, whispering words too low to catch. Something about his tone made the hair on my neck rise.
The tunnel opened into a wide sump chamber. Amber fluid pooled here, glowing gently before draining into lower veins. The pool hummed faintly, the sound resonating in my chest. The glow painted our armor in honey-gold. We stopped at the edge.
Ashekan planted his spear. "One vial. Enough to prove it exists, enough to save bloom troughs."
Echo-Hand's voice was sharp. "Draw blood, wake the heart. You risk reef and Exile."
Rejah spoke quietly. "We are already bleeding reserves. Starved hatchlings die the same way."
All eyes turned to me. My glove hovered over the fluid, feeling its heat meet the cold of my crystal. The hum vibrated through my arm. I thought of hatchlings, of the Exiles who still fed the god, and of the heart's slow breathing behind us.
"If we do this, we seal it after," I said. "And we take only what one pearl can carry."
Echo-Hand inclined his head. "Seal well, and perhaps it forgives."
Lis uncapped a vial chilled to frost and dipped it beneath the surface. Fluid swirled inside like a galaxy, stars spinning in amber glow. Above her, the wall cracked sharply. A bead of slurry slid free, dripping onto a clump of dormant motes. They ignited.
The shadow bud opened, unfurling into a manta-like thing with too many fins and jaws splitting down its length. It screeched and darted, fins grazing Lis's shoulder, leaving a burn mark. She cursed and rolled away.
I flared a water lens, the force shaking my arms, catching its next strike. Lis swung her cannon and cracked a fin joint. The creature shrieked, sonar waves pulsing through the chamber. I kicked a mirror shard into its path; the sound bounced back and folded it inward. The shadow collapsed into ash, drifting like black snow.
Rejah's voice was steady. "Shadow spike contained."
Ashekan growled, "Seal it. Now."
I knelt, shaping cold currents. My shoulders burned; every rotation of water bit into me. Veshra pressed a shard into my palm. Together we set it into the wall, frost spidering across the crack until the leak sealed. Lis capped the vial and tucked it into foam. "That's all we take," I said, voice hoarse.
The runes along the floor brightened briefly, then dimmed, as if testing us and choosing to rest.
We climbed back to the rail. Frost on the sphere's cables dripped slowly, like tears. The heart had felt us. As we rose, I glanced back. The runes were glowing again, slow but steady, like the beginning of a count.
"I think it's counting again," I whispered.
No one argued.