The Hollow — Deep Below
The silence was broken only by the rhythmic crash of waves against the jagged edges of the Hollow. But even that sound felt wrong, as if the very sea itself was hesitating.
Dominic's heart raced as he stood on the Leviathan's back, his fingers clutching the Trident, but it felt weightless in his grasp. His body trembled, his mouth dry, the stinging pain in his throat worsening.
No words.
Not even a whisper.
The Soprana floated beside him, her eyes locked on him with sorrow. "You have broken the sacred law of the sea," she murmured, her voice a haunting lullaby in the stillness. "Now the sea claims its due."
Dominic wanted to shout, to call out to the sea, to explain that he was not his past self. But his voice—his very breath—betrayed him.
He dropped to his knees, clutching his throat, trying desperately to force air into his lungs.
