The sound of the sea roared like a beast awakened.
Each crashing wave made the ground tremble, as if the world itself bowed before the power rising there.
Leviathan stood with his foot pressed against Valhart's head. Water streamed down his body, forming a liquid mantle that moved of its own will.
The air around him felt heavy—alive—as if it breathed along with him.
From a distance, Shadow watched. His cloak was torn from the earlier impact, his cold eyes fixed on the one once called the God of the Ocean.
Leviathan's voice broke the silence.
— "So this is what's left of the 'Guardian of Balance'? A tired body and a defiant tongue?"
Valhart, even crushed against the ground, let out a strained laugh.
— "Defiance is all I have left… when two Primordials decide to play in my backyard."
The laughter died as Leviathan's foot pressed deeper. The earth beneath Valhart cracked, glowing with molten lines of energy.
Shadow took a step forward.
— "Release him. He's not the enemy."
Leviathan glanced sideways.
— "Not the enemy… yet he stands in my domain."
Water rose around Leviathan, twisting into columns like translucent serpents.
— "And you, shadow, should know better than to walk so close to the ocean."
The wind died.
The clouds parted in a perfect circle, revealing a restless pale sky.
Shadow spoke, voice low but steady.
— "I didn't come for you. I came for what's buried here. The Abyssal Heart."
Leviathan's gaze sharpened.
— "The Heart… ah. So it's true. You can feel it too."
Valhart let out a weary sigh beneath his heel.
— "You fools don't understand… The Abyssal Heart isn't a relic. It's a curse."
His words made the sea shudder. The horizon bent, and miles of ocean pulled back, revealing a dark trench that devoured light itself.
— "What do you know of it, mortal?" Leviathan's voice rumbled like thunder beneath the waves.
Valhart raised his eyes.
Even wounded, they burned with defiance.
— "Enough to know you're both about to destroy far more than you realize."
Leviathan lifted his foot, water coalescing into a spear of pure pressure.
— "Then prove you're worthy to speak in the presence of gods."
He moved his arm.
The spear tore through the air with a sharp crack—
But before it struck, Shadow raised a hand. A field of black expanded before him, swallowing the liquid force. The sound of impact rang like a distorted bell.
— "You protected me?" Valhart muttered, surprised.
Shadow's reply was cold.
— "I dislike waste."
The sea roared.
Leviathan vanished—foam, mist, silence.
When he reappeared, he was behind Shadow, his fist wrapped in a vortex of compressed water.
The blow detonated like a storm.
Shadow was hurled backward, slicing the sky like a black comet. Mountains split in his wake; the sound came seconds later.
Leviathan floated above the ocean, enthroned upon spiraling waves.
— "You're fast," his voice echoed, rolling like the tide.
Shadow landed on a shattered rock, his shadow stretching across the horizon.
— "Fast enough not to die… yet."
They faced each other—abyss and ocean, darkness and tide intertwined.
Leviathan struck first.
The sea rose into spinning columns, forming aquatic serpents with eyes of raw energy.
Each one roared soundlessly, lashing forward with divine precision.
Shadow raised his hand.
Darkness spilled from him like living smoke, shaping into blades that cut through the air.
When their forces collided, the world inverted—
The sea rose, the sky fell.
Explosions echoed backward in time, sound preceding impact.
Valhart, struggling to his feet, watched as his body repaired itself, golden veins glowing beneath his skin.
— "Primordials," he muttered. "Always so theatrical."
He spread his fingers, bending the space around him.
Sound and light warped—
and in a blink, he vanished.
He reappeared behind Leviathan, his fist blazing with temporal energy.
The strike shattered the air.
Leviathan plunged into the sea, descending for dozens of meters before bursting back out with a roar that split the sky.
Valhart hovered above him.
— "Now we're even."
Leviathan smiled.
— "You dare lay a hand on me, mortal?"
— "I stopped being mortal long ago," Valhart replied, floating amid the spray. "And perhaps I'm the only one left who remembers what you both cost this world."
The air fractured between them.
Shadow appeared once more, shadows binding into chains around his arms.
— "Enough."
His voice made time itself hesitate. Even the wind froze.
Leviathan's gaze darkened; the ocean rose in response to his fury.
— "You dare command me, shadow?"
— "I give you a warning," Shadow said coldly. "Push further—and you'll see what the true abyss is."
For a heartbeat, the sky dimmed. The clouds turned solid. The sun vanished.
Valhart felt the weight of it—the glimpse of what Shadow truly was.
Leviathan felt it too. The sea, once raging, grew still.
His eyes glowed a deep cerulean.
— "So… you still hold that power."
Shadow lowered his arm, cloak fluttering.
— "I don't waste what isn't worth using."
Silence.
Water dripped from Leviathan's hands, evaporating before it reached the ground.
Valhart broke the tension, wiping blood from his cheek.
— "Are we done with threats? I have a message."
Both turned toward him.
— "The Order knows you're back," he said. "And… the mortals will summon the Great Convergence."
Leviathan arched a brow.
— "Mortals summoning gods? How amusing."
— "Amusing… or dangerous," added Shadow. "What's their true intent?"
Valhart smiled faintly.
— "A new pact. Or perhaps… a new ending."
The sea stirred again—not with anger, but anticipation.
Leviathan rolled his neck, the sound echoing like stone cracking underwater.
— "It's been ages since something piqued my interest."
Shadow folded his arms.
— "I'll attend. For one reason."
Leviathan tilted his head.
— "And that is?"
— "I want to see how far mortals have come," Shadow said flatly. "To see if courage still exists in this world."
Leviathan laughed—a deep, tidal rumble that seemed to rise from the ocean's heart.
— "Courage they've always had. What they lack… is wisdom."
— "Then perhaps it's time we tested both," Shadow replied.
Their gazes locked again. The tension remained—but something within it had changed.
Respect. Recognition.
Valhart exhaled, weary yet relieved.
— "Good. I'll tell the others you've… agreed."
He opened a circular portal, fragments of time swirling around its edges.
Before stepping through, he glanced back.
— "Don't take too long. Humanity is about to make history—whether you like it or not."
He vanished.
Silence returned, accompanied by the rhythmic song of the tide.
Leviathan stared at the horizon, his form turning translucent, merging with the sea.
— "Mortals summoning gods… The world truly has gone mad."
Shadow's eyes remained fixed on the place where ocean met sky.
— "Or perhaps… it's finally waking up."
Leviathan gave one last smirk, reflected in the waves.
— "So be it, shadow. Let's see how long they can endure."
Then he was gone—swallowed by the sea, as though he'd never existed.
Shadow stood alone.
The wind carried the scent of salt and blood, the faint echo of battle still trembling through the cliffs.
He raised a hand, and a shadowy raven formed on his shoulder.
— "Malhar…" he murmured.
The raven opened its eyes, a voice echoing through it.
— "I saw everything. They agreed?"
— "Yes," Shadow answered. "Prepare what must be done. Tell the Order—the tide has turned."
The raven nodded and dissolved into black mist.
Shadow looked once more at the calm horizon.
But he knew this wasn't peace. It was the breath before the storm.
As clouds swallowed the light, he whispered—not to anyone, but to the world itself:
— "Let the mortals show what they're made of… before we remind them who truly rules."
Then, without sound or light, he vanished.
The sea remained—vast, silent, keeping the gods' secret.
Yet deep below, something began to pulse.
A faint blue glow.
The heartbeat of the deep.
The Abyssal Heart had awakened.