Reincarnated As Poseidon-Chapter 64: The chorus of unmaking

There are moments in the sea when even the currents hold their breath.

No movement.

No light.

No sound.

This was one of those moments.

The Second Choir had fallen.

Dominic still stood.

But in the silence that followed, something deeper stirred.

Something older than Lyrielle.

Older than Poseidon.

Older than war.

A silence not of peace...

But of warning.

---

Dominic’s Stillness

He floated above the shattered reef, barely moving.

Maelora and Varun hovered nearby, silent for once. Even Varun’s usual snark was gone. Something in Dominic had changed.

Not his power.

Not his soul.

His presence.

It was like the sea leaned toward him now—not to worship, but to listen.

He looked at his hands.

Still trembling slightly. Still glowing.

> "That wasn’t just a battle," he muttered. "That was a... test."

Maelora gave him a sideways glance.

> "You think Lyrielle’s done?"

> "No," Dominic replied, his voice steadier now. "She’s only just begun."

---

Elsewhere – Lyrielle’s Throne Crumbles

The Hollow Spiral shook with fury.

Lyrielle stood at the heart, eyes flaring with rage.

The last of her Choir’s songs faded into memory foam, drifting lifeless through the dark.

> "Twice he was tested... twice he resisted," the Choirmistress rasped.

Lyrielle paced. Coral cracked under her bare feet.

> "Then we abandon song."

She looked up. Her eyes were no longer just blue—they were black-rimmed with abyssal rage.

> "We return to silence."

> "And from silence... comes the scream."

---

The Deep Below Thalorenn

Far beneath the ocean’s known floor—where pressure became a living thing—an ancient tomb began to stir.

It wasn’t marked. Not sealed. Just... forgotten.

But now, the Vaults had shifted.

The Sea’s voice had changed.

And silence was no longer safe.

Fins like blades.

Scales like obsidian.

Eyes that shimmered with memories of worlds drowned.

It uncurled slowly.

And with it came the sound of nothing.

Not absence.

Not void.

True anti-song.

The Sea’s first enemy.

The creature of Thalorenn—the one the gods refused to name—was waking.

---

Olympus Watches

High on the storm-pillared cliffs of Olympus, Hera stood beside Athena.

Below them, the divine pool showed only spirals—an omen of ancient things rising.

> "Dominic grows stronger," Athena said. "And the sea bends with him."

Hera frowned.

> "And you’re not alarmed by that?"

> "No," Athena replied. "I’m alarmed by what’s starting to wake... beneath him."

---

Back to Dominic – A Sudden Shift

A chill ran through the water.

Not cold. Dead.

Dominic tensed.

His vision darkened around the edges.

And for just a moment, he couldn’t hear the sea.

Not even a bubble.

> "Something’s wrong," he whispered.

Maelora felt it too.

> "What is this?"

Varun drew his blade, scanning the darkness.

> "Where’s the current?"

It was still.

Too still.

Then—

A scream.

No voice.

No breath.

Just... pressure.

Their ears rang.

Water cracked.

The trench below split open like a wound.

And from it—nothing rose.

---

The First Glimpse

The creature didn’t have a shape.

Not one the eye could hold.

It flickered. Twisted. Refused to obey physics.

But Dominic saw it.

Not with sight.

With memory.

His chest burned.

> "That’s... not one of Lyrielle’s," he muttered.

Maelora’s face turned pale.

> "That’s not hers. That’s before her."

Varun whispered, almost afraid.

> "What did you wake up down there?"

Dominic didn’t answer.

Because he didn’t know.

But deep inside him, something whispered back:

> "You sang too loud."

---

Lyrielle Feels It Too

In her cracked throne, Lyrielle gasped.

The water recoiled from her.

She turned to the Choirmistress.

> "What did he do?"

The siren wept, trembling.

> "He broke the silence. Now it... listens."

> "And if silence listens," Lyrielle whispered, voice shaking,

"It remembers how to scream."

---

Dominic’s Warning

The creature didn’t attack.

It hovered.

Watching.

Judging.

Dominic floated closer, the trident trembling in his hand.

> "Who are you?"

No reply.

But his mind filled with images.

Not words.

Tidal waves swallowing islands.

Ships screaming.

Temples cracking.

Hearts stopping.

Not war.

Not vengeance.

Just cleansing.

The creature drifted back into the trench, disappearing.

The silence remained.

Dominic turned to the others.

> "We need to go. Now."

> "Where?" Varun asked.

Dominic looked toward the far sea, toward Lyrielle’s waters... and beyond them.

> "To where this all started. Where the sea was first broken."

Not all seas were born equal.

Some were shallow and kind. Others turbulent and wild.

But then there were the Deepplaces—primordial folds in the ocean that even the gods feared.

Not marked on maps. Not whispered in prayers.

Only remembered in instinct.

Dominic was heading toward one now.

And the sea... did not want him to go.

---

Southward Currents – The Water Fights Back

They swam fast, pushing through layer after layer of thickening pressure. The deeper they went, the stranger things became.

Currents didn’t just flow—they resisted.

Fish vanished.

The temperature dropped, then suddenly burned.

It was like the sea itself had turned into a maze of fear, designed to turn them around.

Maelora narrowed her eyes, struggling to keep pace beside Dominic.

> "The sea’s lying to us."

> "Let it," Dominic muttered, trident glowing faintly. "I know where I’m going."

Varun winced, swatting a jellyfish the size of a wolf.

> "Do you, though? Because everything down here wants to slap us, bite us, or drive us mad."

> "Then we’re getting close," Dominic said grimly.

---

The Entrance to the Forgotten Place

At the bottom of a hollow trench—twenty leagues deeper than any charted point—was a narrow slit in the seafloor.

It looked like a crack. Nothing more.

But as they approached, the crack breathed.

In. Out.

A slow pulse of black water.

Maelora stopped.

> "That’s it," she whispered. "That’s the First Deepplace."

> "What is it?" Varun asked.

> "Where the sea made its first mistake," Dominic answered, voice quieter than usual.

---

They Enter

The slit yawned wider as Dominic approached. As though it recognized him.

Inside: darkness.

Not the kind light couldn’t touch—

The kind light feared to try.

They swam in.

And the door behind them closed.

---

Inside the Deepplace – A Dead Ocean

There was no color.

The water here didn’t ripple. Didn’t press.

It just was.

Dead reefs sprawled like skeletal fingers. Shipwrecks littered the floor, all ancient—pre-god, pre-song.

A thousand fragments of forgotten sea civilizations lay twisted, broken, swallowed.

Dominic hovered silently.

Even the trident dimmed.

> "This is where it started," he said.

> "Where what started?" Maelora asked.

> "The first betrayal," he murmured. "The sea’s first god... and its first weapon."

---

Visions in the Dark

As they drifted deeper, echoes stirred in the black.

Not sound.

Memory.

They saw images flash in the water:

A tall figure clad in black coral robes, holding a blade of swirling tide.

A council of sea spirits kneeling as one stood apart.

An ocean split in half by a scream.

Varun squinted.

> "That’s not Poseidon..."

Dominic’s voice shook.

> "No. That’s Thalorin."

Maelora shivered.

> "The one the gods locked away. The reason Olympus built the vaults."

Dominic touched a wall pulsing with old blood.

> "And maybe... the one I’m starting to become."

---

A Warning Left Behind

In the very heart of the Deepplace, they found a statue.

It wasn’t broken.

It wasn’t coral.

It was flesh—frozen mid-scream, holding the remains of a song etched in bones.

A whisper slithered out of its mouth, circling them.

> "Do not awaken what sings in silence."

Varun stepped back.

> "Nope. No. I’m done. This is cursed."

Dominic approached it slowly.

> "This is where Lyrielle is guiding the scream toward. She’s not just using Choirs. She’s leading them here."

Maelora tensed.

> "Why?"

Dominic turned.

Eyes glowing, voice hollow.

> "Because if the scream finishes its song here... the sea resets."

---

Something Stirs

Behind them, something vast shifted in the dark.

A shape. A presence.

Not alive.

Not fully.

But watching.

Waiting.

The sea held its breath again.

> "We need to leave," Maelora whispered.

> "Not yet," Dominic replied. "There’s something I need to understand."

He placed his hand against the living wall.

It pulsed.

A voice filled his mind.

Old. Male. Fractured by time.

> "I see you, boy of blood and bone. You wear my name. You carry my echo. But do you carry my choice?"

Dominic gasped.

> "Thalorin?"

No answer.

Only silence.

And then—a scream.

---

Outside the Trench – Lyrielle Moves

From her coral fortress, Lyrielle watched the black water around the Deepplace stir.

The scream had found its stage.

And her final verse... was ready.

> "Begin the last chorus."

> "Let the sea forget who it ever was."

The sea didn’t roar.

It didn’t crash.

It listened.

And what it heard was Lyrielle’s final verse beginning to bloom, spreading like poison through the deep.

The Chorus of Unmaking had awakened—

Not from rage.

Not from revenge.

But from the aching desire to erase the sea’s oldest wound.

This wasn’t a war cry.

It was an endnote.

---

Lyrielle’s Final Movement

In the broken halls of her drowned throne, Lyrielle stood atop a spire of spiraled coral that pulsed with stolen power.

The Choirs were gone.

The Sirens, sacrificed.

Only her voice remained—

And the Scream she had nurtured.

A black melody hummed behind her lips.

Not a song of destruction.

A lullaby of unmaking.

> "The sea has sung too long," she whispered.

"Let it sleep now."

She raised her hands—once elegant, now cracked with veins of abyssal light.

And the Chorus responded.

From the fractured Trident Vaults.

From the coral catacombs.

From the shadows of Thalorenn...

The sea began to unravel.

---

Dominic in the Deepplace

He stood at the center of the First Deepplace, hand still pressed to the pulsing wall.

Thalorin’s whisper echoed in his bones.

> "If you finish her song... all ends."

Dominic’s jaw clenched.

> "I’m not finishing anything. I came to stop it."

But the wall responded again—low, tired.

> "Then you must become the last voice.

Or there will be no voices left."

Behind him, Maelora hovered protectively.

> "Dom, the current just died. It’s like the sea’s bleeding."

Varun floated in from the black.

> "The trench is cracking. We’ve got maybe minutes before this place folds in on itself."

Dominic turned.

His eyes flickered gold-blue.

The Trident’s glow dimmed as though bracing for something worse than power.

> "Then we go to the heart of it."

---

The Trident Responds

As Dominic gripped it tighter, the Trident flared.

But not with glory.

With warning.

It showed him flashes:

Lyrielle in her coral spire, lips split wide, voice trembling the ocean.

Maelora screaming underwater as the current seized her.

Olympus—sinking.

The Trident pulsed one final time and whispered:

> "If you speak now... the gods will hear.

And they will come."

Dominic exhaled sharply.

> "Then let them."

---

Meanwhile – Olympus Fractures

Athena clutched her spear, staggering backward.

A ripple—dark and twisted—shot through the divine marble halls.

Hera dropped her goblet.

> "Lyrielle’s done it. She’s opened the sea’s first scar."

Zeus stood from his throne.

The sky dimmed.

> "Then the gods will march."

But Ares, leaning on his bloodied axe, frowned.

> "March where? This isn’t a battlefield. It’s a grave."

Athena turned toward the storm-fogged horizon.

> "Then we go to the grave."

---

Dominic’s Final Swim

The sea was folding.

Not collapsing—but peeling back.

Like memory unraveling.

Dominic led the way, swimming against the scream, deeper into the heart of the Deepplace. Every stroke took more from him. Every breath harder to hold.

> "You can’t just overpower this," Maelora called. "This isn’t a beast to fight!"

> "I know," Dominic said. "It’s a song."

> "And you’re not a singer!"

> "Not yet," he muttered.

At last, they reached it.

A hollow pit filled with echoing silence.

And from within, Lyrielle’s song coiled like ink in blood.

She stood there.

Waiting.

---

Lyrielle’s Last Verse

She looked older now.

Fractured.

Almost mournful.

> "You came," she said. "Of course you did."

Dominic hovered, the Trident pointing low.

> "I won’t let you finish it."

> "It’s already begun," she whispered, lifting her chin. "And once the sea forgets itself... maybe we all get peace."

Dominic floated closer.

> "You don’t want peace. You want the sea to apologize."

> "I want it to be clean." Lyrielle’s voice cracked. "Unbroken."

> "Then why are you breaking everything to get it?"

She stared at him.

And for a moment, she looked like someone who had simply lost too much.

---

The Final Note Begins

Lyrielle opened her mouth.

The scream began to bloom again.

Not loud.

Just real.

Real enough to undo the ocean.

Varun grabbed Maelora.

> "We’ve gotta get out—"

But Dominic stepped forward.

His voice—shaky, raw—joined hers.

Not to fight.

Not to destroy.

To rewrite.

His words weren’t pretty. They weren’t poetic.

But they were his.

And they were enough to split the scream in half.

---

The sea shook.

The scream shattered.

And Lyrielle... stopped singing.

She floated in place.

> "You... changed it," she whispered.

Dominic’s body glowed with every memory of every wave.

> "I didn’t come to kill you," he said.

"I came to make sure you remembered what the sea is."

> "And what’s that?" she asked faintly.

He reached out.

> "It’s not perfect.

It’s not kind.

But it’s ours."

And in that moment, the sea stilled.

No scream.

No song.

Just quiet.

And for the first time...

Silence meant peace.

---

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