The water corridor closed behind them without a sound.
Not like a collapsing wave, nor like a door being shut. The water simply returned to its place, as if the ocean world had never parted to grant passage. The light from the surface vanished quickly, replaced by a deepening dark blue, then a black that was not entirely dark, a color that could only exist in the depths.
The pressure arrived before the cold.
It did not strike; it embraced. Heavy, consistent, and inescapable. Each step downward along the current felt like passing through layered laws, each one assessing whether the descenders were worthy of being there.
Nerys led the way.
The sea goddess moved gracefully, her blue hair flowing with invisible currents. The water around her responded as if it were a body recognizing its own heart. With every gesture of her hand, the pressure around the group was adjusted strong enough to repel intruders, gentle enough not to crush guests.
Sylvia walked right behind her.
