The abyss had moods.
Sometimes it watched.
Sometimes it listened.
Now—it waited.
Kuro could feel it, a stillness so profound that even the water stopped moving. The Choir's echoes had vanished, leaving a vacuum of silence. It should have been peace, but it wasn't. The deep sea's calm was never mercy—it was the pause before predation.
He drifted above a plain of black sand, his body aglow with faint blue veins of bioluminescence. The Abyssal Mark pulsed faintly under his mantle, resonating with the faint hum of mana in the current. He could sense life nearby—small flickers of movement, weak, fragile.
> Prey.
That instinct came without emotion. But layered beneath it was something else: calculation.
He released a low-frequency sonar click, and the world came alive in shapes of vibration. He could see without eyes: shoals of translucent fish weaving above the sediment, blind crustaceans digging for detritus, a massive silhouette gliding in the distance—danger.
His sonar rippled further, tracing the terrain: a crevice split the seafloor a hundred meters ahead. Volcanic vents leaked glowing streams of greenish mana, their heat attracting life. A perfect hunting ground.
He moved, tentacles trailing behind like shadows.
> [Instinct Assimilation Mode — Active.]
[Scanning environment for evolutionary resources.]
The whisper of the Abyssal System had become less alien now.
More familiar.
Or maybe he was the one changing to understand it.
The first ambush was almost accidental.
A serpent-like creature lunged from the sand—a blind predator with jaws that could split coral.
Kuro twisted aside, releasing a burst of pressurized ink infused with mana. The cloud shimmered, distorting light and sound alike.
The serpent hesitated—just long enough.
He struck.
Tentacles wrapped around the beast's head, slicing with hooked edges. His beak pierced the soft tissue beneath its jaw. A rush of heat and mana flooded through him—life force, raw and intoxicating.
> [Predatory Assimilation Complete.]
[Skill Acquired: Pressure Vein.]
[New Function: Local Density Manipulation.]
A pulse of power rippled through his body, and the water bent subtly around him—he could feel his shape compressing the current, as if the abyss itself now obeyed his will.
> I can control the water pressure.
Not just survive it… weaponize it.
He flexed his body, condensing the water beneath him until it hardened like invisible glass. Then—release. A shockwave rippled outward, toppling stones and scattering the lesser creatures nearby.
The Abyss trembled.
Something deep within him—something alien—approved.
> [Evolution Progress: 14.22%]
He watched the current twist around his motion, obeying the subtle rhythm of his thoughts. It felt right. It felt human. The mind of a scientist shaping the unknown, naming it, mastering it.
But every use of power came with a price.
He could feel it gnawing at his mind—the faint hum of the Choir, now quieter but closer. Each surge of mana drew their attention, like a song half-heard through water.
> "They're listening again…"
He needed safety. Shelter. A place the Abyss could not hear him.
He swam toward the volcanic crevice and descended. The heat bit at his flesh, but his cells adapted swiftly. The vents roared like slow heartbeats, spewing luminous plumes. Here, mana density was so high that it formed visible patterns—spirals of light drifting through the current.
He began to weave.
Using the Pressure Vein, he compressed the flow of the vent currents into barriers, bending them into a circular chamber. The currents solidified, trapping pockets of still water within. He coated them in thin strands of bioluminescent mucus that hardened into membrane—a natural architecture, equal parts science and instinct.
Hours passed—or perhaps days. Time lost meaning here.
When he was finished, a dome of shimmering darkness hovered above the vent—a fortress grown from heat and will. Inside, the silence was absolute. The Choir's hum faded into nothing.
> [New Territory Established: Abyssal Nest — Tier 1.]
[Domain Effect: Ambient mana density increased by 27%.]
[Passive Ability Gained: Territorial Awareness.]
He floated in the center of it, his body framed by faint, pulsing light. Every vibration in the water, every particle of mana, every movement beyond the dome—he felt it. His mind stretched outward, mapping his surroundings in exquisite detail.
For the first time since reincarnation, Kuro felt something close to peace.
> I've carved a place in the dark… my first domain.
But peace did not last.
From the edge of his awareness, he sensed movement—large, deliberate. Something ancient sliding across the trench floor, approaching his nest. Its resonance was unlike anything he had felt before: intelligent, restrained, and cold.
Then, a voice touched his mind—clear and direct.
> ≋Bold little cephalopod.≋
≋You build walls in my hunting ground.≋
Kuro froze.
The echo wasn't chaotic like the Choir. It was focused, articulate—a predator's thought.
> "Who are you?"
> ≋The one who remembers what you consume.≋
≋Leave… or be unmade.≋
The current shifted. His domain trembled. The voice pressed against the walls of his fortress, testing its limits, like a claw dragging over glass.
Kuro spread his tentacles, his mind sharpening with instinct.
He had survived too long to submit now.
> "Then come and take it."
For a heartbeat, the sea went still.
Then the darkness moved.
Something vast and silver tore through the current—an armored predator the size of a ship, its body plated with chitin and luminous veins. Its eyes burned like molten amber.
The Abyss had sent its answer.