CHAPTER 74: DOWN BELOW

Lucian plummeted through the fog, a weightless bullet slicing through ghost-thick air.

He fell faster with every breath, the wind clawing at his face and snapping his hair upward like black ribbons in a storm. But his concern wasn’t for himself.

His entire team was falling with him.

And the worst part?

They didn’t even know it.

’They’re still trapped in the illusion,’ he realized, panic surging like a blade through his spine. ’They don’t even know we’re falling!’

Shapes flailed in the mist beside him—Bruma, Fenric, and Carlos, suspended like puppets with their strings cut. He reached for them, fingers grasping blindly in the gloom. Bruma was closest, her massive body tumbling through the air like a boulder in freefall.

Her violet hair whipped in violent arcs, some strands plastering across her orcish face’s gnarled, tusked features. Her eyes were vast and empty, terrifying in their vacancy.

Lucian lunged forward and slapped a hand against her thick, moss-colored bicep.

"Sorry," he muttered, no time for grace.

He ignited his magic.

Atomic Radiation. Crucible of Grace.

The dual forces surged into her—one a withering poison, the other a divine cure. Fog coiled inside her lungs, her blood, her brain—and then it burned. Her organs crumpled and rebuilt themselves in the same breath. The mist didn’t come back.

Bruma snapped awake with a bellow that shook the fog around them.

"AHHH! What the hell—?!"

Lucian didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

Bruma’s eyes darted once, caught the shape of the sea below, and narrowed with sharp understanding.

"Crap. We fell for it," she hissed.

’We?’ Lucian thought bitterly, but let it slide. Now wasn’t the time for blame.

The Grey Sea was rising fast—an endless, colorless expanse like a blind god’s eye turned skyward. Its surface looked solid. Too solid.

And the call?

It wasn’t just a whisper now. It screamed inside his teeth.

He made his decision.

"Bruma!" he shouted over the wind. "Llarm, Gindu, Eri—they’re still under. You’re the only one strong enough to grab them midair. Go!"

Bruma didn’t argue. She twisted her huge frame, adjusting mid-fall. Her trajectory shifted left, toward the others.

Lucian focused on the two still within reach: Fenric and Carlos.

Fenric floated with a peaceful grin, his claw absently scratching his neck. Whatever Caelgorr was feeding him, it was keeping him drunk on joy.

Carlos, by contrast, thrashed and snarled, tiny fangs bared. Rage pulsed off him in waves. And beneath it—sorrow. Trembling, buried sorrow.

Lucian reached for them, one hand on each.

No apology this time. Just action.

Atomic Radiation. Crucible of Grace.

The fog tore from their bodies like smoke chased by fire. Fenric twitched, eyes snapping open, then immediately scrunched in pain.

Carlos yelped—sharp and sharp again.

Lucian didn’t waste a second.

"You were in an illusion," he barked. "We’re falling. And that—" he jabbed downward, "—is the Grey Sea!"

Fenric’s fur spiked. "WHAT?! Can’t you make us fly?!"

"I can’t!" Lucian snapped. "Llarm’s still caught—his wind magic’s overriding mine!"

The moment the words left his mouth, the fog below thinned—and the world slammed into focus.

They burst through.

The sky parted.

The fall became real.

Bruma was thirty feet off to the left, clutching the limp forms of Llarm, Eri, and Gindu. Her giant frame twisted to shield them.

Lucian turned downward.

And saw it.

The Grey Sea.

No waves. No ripples. Just a smooth, lifeless skin of liquid stone. The color of nothing. The shape of silence.

It smelled of cold iron and drowned rot—like a battlefield left to decay beneath still water. No sound came from it, not even the slap of wind—just pressure, like the world was holding its breath.

And in that breathless quiet... the call curled into his ears like a whisper he almost wanted to believe.

It wasn’t in his ears anymore—it was in his bones.

The sea wanted them.

"BRACE FOR IMPACT!" Lucian roared, ripping every thread of wind he could from the choking sky. The gusts wrapped around his limbs, hot and sharp like wire, straining against gravity—but Llarm’s chaotic drafts slammed into them like crashing waves, tearing at his balance. The winds weren’t working together; they were fighting.

Still, he managed to slow them—barely.

And then—

SPLASH.

The water hit like ice knives.

Lucian plunged into the Grey Sea, and it swallowed him whole.

A brutal cold clamped around him instantly, wringing the air from his lungs before he could even panic. The shock sent his limbs locking tight, then trembling, then burning. Darkness pressed in on every side, thick and grainy like wet ash.

And worse—the call was louder now.

It didn’t whisper anymore.

It howled.

Swim deeper, it said. Find what waits for you.

Lucian clenched his teeth. Not yet. He could still fight it—for now.

The force of impact had dragged him far below the surface. He couldn’t see anything—just gray on gray, as if the world had bled dry of all color. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t tell up from down. Only the feel of movement told him he hadn’t died.

He felt them before he saw them. His friends were scattered nearby like drifting wreckage.

And below them... something waited.

Shadows beneath the shadows. Watching. Moving.

Lucian kicked hard, ignoring the fire in his lungs. The sea bit at every inch of him—an ancient chill that gnawed at his joints, crept into his ears, and threatened to lock his muscles in place.

He swam toward the panic. Toward the feral ripples of motion ahead.

Carlos and Fenric.

Lucian reached them by feeling. Light couldn’t penetrate this far, but emotion did—raw, thrumming waves of it. Carlos was a maelstrom of confusion and terror, his tiny limbs slashing at the water in every direction. Lucian felt the pup’s body thrashing violently, the tiny impact of claws against his arm, and the sudden bite of sharp teeth sinking into the skin.

’I’m trying to save you from drowning, you stupid mutt!’ he thought with a flash of frustration.

Carlos didn’t understand, but eventually, recognition bloomed. The frantic wriggling slowed, and the bite pressure eased. Carlos’s little paws curled against Lucian’s arm like a frightened child.

Lucian’s chest ached. He could barely hold on to his breath now.

Fenric’s presence moved upward—an upward drift of giddy emotion and sudden urgency. The illusion had broken for him. Bruma’s emotions surged not far behind, steady and grim. She was rising too, still carrying Llarm and Gindu. Eri seemed to be swimming by herself.

Lucian adjusted Carlos in his grip and started swimming upward.

His body remembered the training—how to hold breath and stay calm. That stupid childhood bet, the hours he spent underwater to win, now saved his life. But Carlos couldn’t wait that long.

So he pushed harder, his legs burning and his arms aching, fighting the resistance of the thick, syrupy sea.

And all the while—

The call kept pounding.

It clawed into his thoughts with seductive force.

Deeper.

You don’t belong at the surface.

There’s something beautiful waiting below.

He gritted his teeth. No. Not yet.

But it grew louder. More rhythmic. More... right.

A soft shimmer began to glow up ahead—purple and gold, dancing like reflections in stained glass—the surface.

He was close. He could feel Fenric—motionless now, hovering just beneath the light.

He reached. One last surge—And that’s when it happened.

The call broke through.

It crashed into his mind like a tidal wave, sweeping away logic, fear, and even breath. His thoughts dissolved. All that remained was one command:

Swim deeper.

Lucian stopped.

He released Carlos.

The pup flailed in the water, shadows flickering weakly around him, only feet from the surface—but unable to climb.

Lucy didn’t watch.

He turned.

And began to sink.