The sea did not explode.
It tightened.
Every current, every pulse of water, every drifting fragment of broken coral and shattered armor—everything drew inward, as if the ocean itself had taken a single, controlled breath.
And Aerin stood at its center.
Her hand remained raised, fingers slightly curled, as though she held the tide itself within her grasp.
This was different from before.
Not instinct.
Not reaction.
Control.
Pure.
Absolute.
The invading creatures surged again—relentless, unthinking, driven by something beyond their own will. Their jagged, metal-fused bodies cut through the water in sharp, unnatural movements, converging toward her in a coordinated assault.
But this time—
Aerin didn't push them back.
She stopped them.
The ocean froze.
Not completely—but enough.
