The ocean had become his sky.
For most of his life, Thalor had looked upward.
Toward clouds.
Toward mountains.
Toward freedom.
Now, freedom surrounded him in every direction.
Endless blue stretched beyond sight.
Ancient currents wound through the depths like invisible roads.
The ocean no longer felt like a prison.
It felt like a world.
A vast one.
One he had barely begun to explore.
Thalor moved through the water with steady strokes.
The Trident rested across his back.
His first Worldborne Sigil glowed faintly beneath the collar of his tunic.
Each pulse synchronized with the surrounding World Energy.
Not enough to truly affect the environment.
Not yet.
But enough to make him feel connected.
The journey had been underway for five days.
Five days since leaving the relay station.
Five days since seeing Atlantis disappear into the darkness behind him.
Five days since Arcadia began making his life miserable again.
"Your spell formation collapsed."
There it was.
Thalor sighed.
"I haven't even cast anything."
A projection appeared beside him.
Arcadia floated through the water as naturally as if she were physically present.
Her body of light and water shimmered with every movement.
"You were thinking about casting."
"That's not a crime."
"It was a poorly designed spell."
Thalor stared.
"You somehow found a way to criticize thoughts."
"I am efficient."
Naturally.
A series of runes appeared before him.
Complex.
Interwoven.
Difficult.
Tier Three Spell Theory.
His current source of suffering.
Tier Two spells had become relatively comfortable.
Water Lance.
Stone Spear.
Light Burst.
Coral Prison.
Prism Lance.
Dozens of variations.
Dozens of combinations.
But Tier Three felt different.
Tier Two required understanding mana.
Tier Three required understanding principles.
At least according to Arcadia.
Unfortunately, Arcadia's explanations usually raised more questions than they answered.
A new diagram appeared.
A Tier One Water spell.
Then a Tier Two version.
Then a Tier Three.
The complexity increased exponentially.
Thalor studied the projection.
"I understand the structure."
"You understand the shape."
Arcadia corrected immediately.
"The structure is the principle beneath the shape."
There was a difference.
Apparently.
The projection shifted.
The Tier Three spell dissolved.
Only the mana flow remained.
Only the concept.
Only the purpose.
For several moments, Thalor watched silently.
Then understanding flickered.
"A Tier Three spell isn't larger."
Arcadia smiled.
Progress.
"It is more complete."
The realization settled into place.
Tier One magic forced mana into reality.
Tier Two magic improved the process.
Tier Three magic aligned with natural laws.
The spell wasn't fighting the world.
It was cooperating with it.
Arcadia nodded.
"Enlightenment."
Thalor immediately regretted understanding.
Because that meant she was right again.
A terrible outcome.
The lesson ended.
For now.
The ocean continued unfolding before him.
Every day revealed something new.
Things Atlantis's archives had never recorded.
Things that hadn't existed ninety-eight thousand years ago.
Massive forests of luminous coral.
Floating crystal formations drifting through deep currents.
Schools of fish that generated their own light arrays.
Entire ecosystems thrive around volcanic vents.
Life.
Everywhere.
One afternoon, he witnessed something truly bizarre.
A creature larger than a warship drifted through a distant trench.
Its body resembled a jellyfish.
If jellyfish possessed mountains.
Thousands of glowing tendrils stretched for kilometers behind it.
The creature ignored him completely.
Which he considered a tremendous success.
"What is that?"
Arcadia consulted several databases.
Then frowned.
"Unknown."
"That is becoming a pattern."
"Ninety-eight thousand years is a significant period of evolutionary divergence."
Translation:
She didn't know.
Thalor enjoyed those moments.
Rare though they were.
The journey continued.
Days passed.
Meditation.
Travel.
Study.
Practice.
The routine became familiar.
Each evening, he stopped to cultivate.
The Worldborne Sigil assisted him.
Tiny amounts of ambient World Energy naturally flowed toward the relay.
Toward the network.
Toward him.
The effect was subtle.
But undeniable.
His Deep Green Core slowly stabilized.
Recovery had begun.
Not growth.
Recovery.
Arcadia never allowed him to forget the distinction.
"Your body is repairing damage."
Not becoming stronger.
The difference mattered.
A healthy sixteen-year-old Atlantean hybrid should already possess a Solid Cyan Core.
Thalor was merely reclaiming what slavery had stolen.
And one day he intended to reclaim the rest.
On the twelfth day...
The ocean changed.
The currents shifted.
The Trident vibrated softly.
Recognition.
Arcadia immediately appeared.
"We are close."
A projection materialized.
Designation:
Oceanic Research Facility 12-A
The nearest surviving Atlantean installation.
One of hundreds.
The first step in restoring the network.
Excitement stirred within him.
For days, he had imagined what he would find.
Ancient technology.
Forgotten archives.
Lost knowledge.
Perhaps another piece of Atlantis.
The seafloor began rising.
Large cliffs emerged from the darkness.
Ancient stone formations stretched upward.
Then he saw it.
The facility.
A massive structure built directly into an underwater cliff face.
Silver-white Atlantean metal covered much of the exterior.
Ancient towers protruded from the rock.
Collapsed sections revealed internal chambers.
Runes still glowed faintly beneath layers of sediment.
Even damaged...
The facility possessed an undeniable majesty.
Thalor smiled.
"We found it."
Arcadia didn't return the smile.
Immediately concerning.
"What?"
The construct stared toward the facility.
Several warning runes appeared around her.
Threat Assessment Active.
The Trident pulsed.
Once.
Twice.
Then continuously.
The Worldborne Sigil answered.
A sense of unease crawled up his spine.
Something was wrong.
The water around the facility moved strangely.
Too many currents.
Too much motion.
Thousands of small disturbances.
Arcadia's expression hardened.
"Movement detected."
The facility entrance sat nearly a kilometer away.
Yet even from this distance, he could see shadows.
Countless shadows.
They moved between ruined towers.
Through broken corridors.
Across collapsed walls.
Far too many.
The shadows suddenly stopped.
Every single one.
Then they turned.
Toward him.
Thalor's smile disappeared.
"Arcadia..."
"Yes."
"I don't suppose those are friendly."
The construct remained silent for several moments.
Then a designation appeared before him.
Species Identified:
Redmaw's
Threat Level:
Extreme
The shadows surged forward.
Thousands of glowing eyes opened throughout the darkness.
And the ocean itself seemed to come alive.