The halls of Submareth thrummed with life.
From the high terraces of coral glass to the shadowed docks where abyssal beasts strained at their leashes, the city pulsed like a living organ newly awakened.
It had been centuries since the court moved at such tempo, drums beating through the water, the great gates opening to release fleets of bioluminescent warships, their keels aglow with runic light.
At the center of it all stood Thalassaria.
Crowned in ribbons of kelp that shimmered like starlight, her presence alone bent the current around her.
Orders rippled outward like tides: the call to arms, the mustering of her legions, the sealing of supply vaults and armories long left dormant.
The Queen of the Shivering Sea had not gathered her full strength in ten thousand years.
Now, every noble and admiral in her dominion moved as if pulled by the moon's own gravity.
"Summon the Scaled Choir," she commanded.
