Zanya stayed out of the drama.
That was the choice she made—and kept making.
The girls' lives continued in small, sharp bursts: arguments that flared and cooled, jealousy that burned hot and fast, secrets half-told and half-kept. Zanya didn't step into the center of it. She didn't try to lead, didn't try to fix what wasn't hers to fix.
Instead, she stayed adjacent.
A redirected current here so a swim didn't go wrong.
A quiet distraction there when tempers ran too high.
A presence at the edge—steady, unassuming, reliable.
They didn't notice.
And that was fine.
She listened when Emma needed reassurance. She lingered close when Cleo spiraled into overthinking. She matched Rikki's sharp humor without challenging the fire beneath it.
Support without interference. Care without control.
The sea taught her that balance.
---
What no one saw was how her nights had changed.
The dreams no longer startled her awake. They came slowly now, gently, like a tide she felt hours before it arrived. Moonlight filtered through water that no longer crushed her chest. Distance remained—but the bond held.
Clearer.
Deeper.
Heavier.
The Sea Dragon did not call for freedom anymore.
He waited.
And that, somehow, weighed more.
Zanya lay awake more than once, staring at the ceiling, thinking through consequences she could not yet calculate.
What happens if I free him?
What breaks?
What wakes up?
Atlantis did not feel dormant anymore.
It felt restrained.
---
The new school year arrived quietly.
Final year.
The girls talked about it in fragments—graduation, futures, fears they pretended not to have. Zanya listened, smiled, nodded.
She felt older than all of it, stretched thin between worlds that no longer aligned cleanly.
The System waited until the first full moon of term to speak.
[SYSTEM NOTICE — CANON DEVIATION CONFIRMED]
[H2O: Just Add Water — Season 3 Events: NULLIFIED]
[Reason: Structural Myth Divergence]
Zanya sat very still.
"What," she said carefully, "does that mean?"
The response arrived in crisp, unyielding text.
[This world's narrative focus has shifted.]
[Primary Arc: Awakening of Atlantis]
[Status: INEVITABLE]
Her pulse thudded once, hard.
So that's how big it all was.
Another window appeared, colder.
[Atlantian Seal Analysis — COMPLETE]
[Requirements for Seal Manipulation:
• Mermaid Magic (Confirmed)
• Hybrid Soul Resonance (Confirmed)
• Song-Based Structural Magic (Emerging)]
Zanya's breath caught.
"That's… me," she whispered.
As if in response, her Song stirred—not calming this time, but probing. A low, ancient melody threaded through her chest, and somewhere far beneath Mako, something answered.
Not the Dragon.
Stone.
[TOLKIEN SONG-MAGIC — INTERACTION DETECTED]
[Effect: Rune Integrity Degrading (MINOR)]
Her eyes widened.
"I can break them," she murmured. "Not force them. Not shatter them. Just… unmake them."
The implication settled heavily in her gut.
The System chimed again—lighter this time.
[INFINITY NIKKI UNLOCKED]
[Outfit: "Royal Seabound"]
She barely noticed at first—until the fabric formed around her in a vision of deep blues and pearl-threaded silver, structured and regal without being heavy. It felt recognized. Not ornamental.
Chosen.
[Effect: Enhanced authority in aquatic domains]
[Passive Bonus: Increased resistance to Atlantean suppression fields]
Zanya closed her eyes.
Of course.
So this was to be her path.
---
That night, the dream shifted again.
The Dragon's presence filled the water, vast and contained, eyes luminous with awareness sharper than she had ever felt before. The bond thrummed, steady and strong.
And then—
"Zanya."
Her name.
Spoken slowly.
Carefully.
As if he had practiced it.
She inhaled sharply.
"You shouldn't," she said, tension threading her voice. "Names matter."
"I know," he replied.
"That is why I waited."
Emotion pressed through the bond—not demand, not desperation.
Trust.
She steadied herself, keeping her distance even now.
"I don't know how to free you yet," she said. "And I don't know what it will cost."
"Neither did I," he answered softly,
"when I chose the chains."
Something inside her settled.
Not certainty.
Resolve.
When she woke, dawn was just beginning to color the horizon. Zanya stood at the window, watching the tide turn, listening to the deep, patient rhythm of the sea she no longer pretended she could walk away from.
"I'll free you," she whispered.
Not today.
Definitely not recklessly.
And not without understanding.
But someday.
And far beneath Mako, ancient seals held—for now—while Atlantis waited, the Dragon listened, and the sea remembered the sound of a vow being made.