CHAPTER 16 - THE SUNKEN GATE

The ocean stretches endlessly beneath them, a vast, shimmering abyss illuminated only by the pale glow of the celestial alignment above. The storm has long since passed, leaving an eerie stillness in its wake, as if the very sea is holding its breath. The ship hovers just above the exposed ruins, its damaged systems flickering with unstable energy.

Celestia stands at the edge of the deck, her silver hair swaying in the salty breeze. She traces the patterns in the air with her fingertips, sensing the shift in the world's natural order. "This place has been asleep for eons," she murmurs. "And now… it's waking up."

Miss Sophia adjusts her glasses, eyeing the ancient structure below. "We have to move quickly. The alignment won't last forever."

Atharva exhales slowly, his pulse quickening as he stares at the ruins below. The celestial event has done its work—where before there was nothing but dark water, now stands a colossal gate, half-buried in the depths. Twisting spires of coral and stone curl around it like skeletal fingers, covered in unreadable symbols glowing with an ethereal light.

Azazel, ever watchful, scans the area. "Something isn't right. The ocean is too still."

Luna, kneeling beside a scanner, nods. "There are no currents. No marine life. Nothing moves here."

Suhana folds her arms. "Because nothing's supposed to be here. Whatever's inside that ruin… it was never meant to be disturbed."

Vikram smirks. "Well, too bad. We're disturbing it anyway."

Their only way in is through the submersible, still stored in the ship's cargo hold. With the ship's magical systems malfunctioning unpredictably, using it is their only option. The vessel is old but sturdy—built for deep-sea exploration long before they came into possession of it. As they board, the interior feels tight, forcing them uncomfortably close.

"Let's try not to kill each other in here," Miss Sophia quips, taking the controls.

As they begin their descent, the silence of the ocean presses against them. The further they go, the more the water around them seems too dark, too thick, like something more than just seawater surrounds them.

Then Atharva feels it.

A pull.

It isn't physical—it's something deeper, something that gnaws at the edge of his mind. He turns, his gaze locking onto the gate below. The glowing symbols carved into its surface feel familiar, though he has never seen them before. A whisper, almost indistinct, brushes against his consciousness.

Come forward.

The others don't seem to hear it, but Celestia is watching him. Her golden eyes narrow slightly, but she says nothing.

The ruins are massive, far larger than they expected. Their submersible moves cautiously through towering stone formations, past what look like statues—except they aren't statues. They are figures frozen in place, their forms twisted in expressions of fear or reverence.

Miss Sophia is the first to speak. "They aren't statues. They were… people."

A chill spreads through the cabin.

Azazel's expression darkens. "Turned to stone? Or something worse?"

No one answers.

The submersible approaches the entrance—a massive, circular gate covered in shifting symbols. Atharva barely registers the discussion around him; his gaze is locked onto the ancient inscriptions, his fingers itching to reach out. The pull is stronger now, urging him forward.

The moment the submersible lands, he doesn't wait. Before anyone can stop him, he steps out into the ruins, the ocean's strange magic keeping them from being crushed by the pressure. The others follow cautiously, weapons at the ready.

Atharva approaches the gate, his heart hammering against his ribs. The whispers in his mind grow louder. His hands tremble as he lifts them toward the inscription at the center. The moment his fingertips brush the surface, the symbols flare to life.

A deep pulse reverberates through the ruins, sending ripples through the water. The others stagger back as the entire structure shudders, the ancient mechanisms within grinding awake after untold millennia.

Then, slowly, impossibly—

The gate opens.

The water beyond is darker than night itself, stretching into an abyss that seems to have no end. And from that darkness, something shifts.

Something deep below stirs.

The gate yawns open, revealing an abyss of absolute darkness. A pulse of unseen energy ripples through the water, making their surroundings shudder as if the ruins themselves are awakening. The pressure shifts, and the water inside feels different—denser, heavier, almost alive.

Atharva takes a step forward, hesitant but unable to resist the pull drawing him deeper. The others exchange wary glances before following, their movements cautious. As they pass through the threshold, the gate seals behind them with a deep, resonating boom. The light from the outside world vanishes, leaving them submerged in an eerie, luminescent twilight.

What lies beyond is nothing like they expected.

The ruins form a vast, flooded labyrinth, the walls shifting subtly as if rearranging themselves. Structures twist at impossible angles—stairs spiral into nowhere, corridors stretch and contract as if breathing. Strange glowing symbols etch themselves onto surfaces before vanishing, like fleeting memories trying to surface.

"This place shouldn't exist," Miss Sophia murmurs, running her fingers over the ancient carvings. "The architecture—it's defying natural laws."

Luna steps beside her, brushing her hand against the nearest wall. The stone feels warm, pulsing faintly beneath her fingertips. "It's not just ancient… it's alive."

Azazel tightens his grip on his weapon, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings. "We're not alone here," he mutters.

Celestia's gaze remains fixed ahead. "Something is watching us."

The realization sends a cold shiver through the group. They move carefully, weaving through narrow passages and cavernous halls, all submerged in the strange, twilight water.

Miss Sophia and Luna pause before an ancient mural stretching across a crumbling wall. It depicts a great serpent coiling around a sun, its eyes glowing like stars. Surrounding it are humanoid figures—some bowing in reverence, others fleeing in terror.

"This is the same symbol from the Floating Archive," Luna whispers.

Miss Sophia nods, pulling out her notebook. "And the same serpent… the 'Serpent of Light' from the prophecy."

Atharva stiffens. He recognizes it now—the same image that had appeared in his visions. He can't shake the feeling that he's walking into something inevitable.

Behind them, Suhana and Vikram get separated in the shifting labyrinth, their voices echoing through the maze.

"I told you to stay close!" Suhana hisses.

"You're the one who wandered off!" Vikram retorts.

A moment later, they hear a splash.

"Vikram… did you just fall into something?"

"No. Something pulled me."

A beat of silence.

Then: "Suhana, RUN."

She doesn't hesitate. Sprinting blindly through the shifting passageways, she rounds a corner just as Vikram is yanked into a dark crevice by something unseen.

The rest of the team hears their shouts and rushes toward the sound. Azazel is the first to reach Vikram, grabbing his arm just as something tries to drag him further in. For a fleeting moment, they catch a glimpse of a shadowy figure with hollow eyes, before it melts back into the wall like a ghost.

Panting, Vikram stumbles back. "Yeah. Let's not do that again."

Suhana glares at him. "This is why you stay close!"

"Maybe you should've stayed closer to me!"

"Maybe you should—"

"Enough," Celestia cuts in, her voice firm. "This place is warping our minds. Stay together and stay focused."

They continue, more cautious than before. The deeper they go, the louder the whispers become.

But this time, they aren't coming from the entity.

Atharva hears a new voice—not the dark, insidious whisper of the presence that has haunted him, but something… older.

"Turn back."

His breath catches.

"He waits beyond. You must not wake him."

The warning sends chills down his spine. The others don't seem to hear it.

"Who are you?" he whispers.

The only answer is a fading echo:

"Leave this place before it is too late."

The path through the labyrinth finally opens into a vast, half-submerged chamber, its ceiling lost to the eerie glow of ancient luminescence. The water inside is unnaturally still, reflecting the surroundings like a perfect mirror. An altar stands at the center, covered in intricate carvings and pulsating with faint golden light.

The walls around them are covered in murals, grand and ancient, their paint somehow untouched by time. Atharva's breath catches. The images look familiar.

Luna steps forward first, brushing her fingertips over the carvings. "This… this is the same story from the Floating Archive," she murmurs. "The Serpent of Light…"

The murals tell a tale lost to time.

A great celestial gate looms in the first image, bathed in radiant energy. Before it stands a lone figure—a warrior, his form eerily similar to Atharva's own. The Serpent of Light.

In the next image, the figure stands at a crossroads—two paths stretching before him. One is veiled in light, leading to something unknown. The other, a shadowy abyss, where monstrous shapes writhe beneath the surface.

Miss Sophia examines the carvings closely. "He was given a choice," she whispers.

The final mural is unfinished, the brushstrokes fading into incompleteness. But its meaning is clear. The Serpent of Light's fate was never written.

Atharva exhales slowly. His heart pounds as a strange energy courses through him. He isn't just looking at a story from the past—this is his story.

Celestia, standing beside him, suddenly tenses. Her sharp eyes dart between the murals, realization dawning.

"They're changing."

Everyone turns.

The paintings shift before their eyes—subtle at first, then unmistakable. The colors bleed. The shapes twist.

The warrior in the mural… his face begins to resemble Atharva's.

Azazel grips his weapon, every instinct on edge. "This place is reacting to him."

Atharva stumbles back, feeling the weight of unseen eyes pressing down on him. "No. This… this can't be…"

Before they can process it, the water around the altar begins to ripple.

A deep, resonant hum fills the chamber. The still water rises, shaping itself into towering, humanoid figures made of liquid and light. Their forms shift like liquid silver, but their eyes glow gold—piercing and ancient.

The largest of them steps forward, its voice echoing through the ruins like a chorus of distant tides.

"You stand at the threshold of fate."

The sentinels' glowing eyes fixate on Atharva.

"Are you our savior… or our doom?"

The sentinels stand motionless for only a moment before they surge forward, their liquid forms twisting and reforming as they move. Their golden eyes pulse with an unnatural glow, and their voices echo in unison.

"Face the abyss, or be lost to it."

Without warning, the chamber shifts. Reality bends.

Atharva barely has time to react before a wave of cold energy slams into him, forcing him to his knees. The air thickens, heavy and suffocating. His vision blurs. Then, the world around him fractures.

He is no longer in the ruins.

A dark sky looms above, swirling with storm clouds and fire. The ground beneath his feet is cracked and lifeless, the ruins of cities stretching as far as the eye can see.

At the center of it all stands himself.

Or at least… something that looks like him.

This version of Atharva is taller, stronger—wearing a crown of shadows. His eyes glow with an unnatural brilliance, and black flames coil around his arms like living serpents.

"You already know the truth," the dark Atharva says, his voice silken and confident. "Why resist it?"

Atharva grits his teeth. "You're not me."

The figure laughs. "I am the you that stops pretending. The you that embraces destiny instead of fearing it." He gestures to the wasteland around them. "This world? This is the future if you keep denying your purpose."

Atharva shakes his head. "You're lying."

The dark Atharva steps closer, and for the first time, Atharva feels genuine fear.

"You know I'm not. Every choice you make brings you closer to me. To this. And when the time comes…" The figure leans in, whispering.

"You will choose power."

Luna stumbles, her breath coming in sharp gasps. The ruins are gone. She is floating in an endless ocean, the water dark and heavy.

Chains bind her wrists.

She struggles, but the more she fights, the deeper she sinks. Voices swirl around her—memories she buried long ago.

"You couldn't save her."

"You are alone."

"You will always be alone."

Her body trembles. The cold wraps around her like a vice. She wants to scream.

But then… a sound. A voice.

It's faint, distant, but unmistakable.

Atharva.

She grits her teeth. The chains burn against her skin, but she fights against them, reaching for the voice calling her back.

Vikram and Suhana find themselves in a silent, empty world.

The air is thick with fog, the ruins of their airship lying abandoned and crumbling.

They turn, looking for the others.

But they are alone.

There is no trace of Atharva. No Celestia. No Azazel.

No one.

Suhana's hands clench into fists. "This isn't real," she mutters, but her voice echoes endlessly—as if the world is hollow.

Vikram's usual humor is gone. His jaw tightens. "Then where are they?"

The silence is deafening.

Then, the fog shifts. A single figure appears.

It's them.

Versions of Vikram and Suhana, standing on the edge of the ruins, older, colder, alone.

"This is what happens when you stop believing."

"When you stop trusting."

They both take a step back. The illusion threatens to consume them.

Azazel does not move.

His world shifts, just like the others. Shadows coil around him, whispering secrets, revealing fears.

But his expression does not change.

If he is afraid, he does not show it.

The sentinels seem… confused. They push harder, trying to unearth the deepest terrors in his mind.

But Azazel simply stares back at them.

His eyes, usually unreadable, hold something cold and sharp.

The illusion tries to break him.

But in the end, Azazel breaks the illusion.

Celestia watches as the others struggle against their visions. She knows what this is.

A test. A cruel one.

The sentinels expect them to succumb—to give in to their fears and be swallowed by the abyss.

But Celestia is different.

She does not fall.

The whispers do not reach her. The illusions do not consume her. Because she has already seen the abyss and survived.

Instead, she moves.

Toward Atharva.

His body trembles, locked in the depths of his vision. She grabs his wrist, pulling him back to reality.

"Wake up," she commands. "Fight it."

Atharva gasps, his eyes snapping open. The shadowy figures around him flicker—the illusion starts to break.

The sentinels hiss, their forms unraveling.

And for the first time, Atharva fights back.

A pulse of golden energy surges from Atharva. The sentinels reel back, their forms wavering.

The others begin to wake, pulling themselves free of the abyss.

Vikram grabs Suhana's hand, yanking her back. Luna breaks the surface of the illusionary water, gasping for air. Azazel simply steps forward, unaffected.

The sentinels let out a final cry—before shattering into mist.

The chamber falls silent.

Atharva staggers, the weight of what he saw pressing down on him. The entity's voice lingers in his mind.

"You will choose power."

But when he looks up… he sees his friends. Still here. Still standing.

For the first time, he begins to wonder if he has a choice after all.

The chamber trembles as the last of the sentinels dissolve into the rising water, their forms unraveling like mist. Atharva steadies himself, his breath ragged, his mind still reeling from the visions. The images haunt him—the ruined world, the shadowed version of himself standing triumphant, the weight of an unspoken fate pressing against his chest. The others recover slowly, shaken but alive. Luna's hands tremble slightly, the chains from her illusion still lingering in her mind. Vikram and Suhana exchange a glance, neither speaking of what they saw. Azazel remains still, his expression unreadable, his fear—whatever it was—locked away.

Celestia steps forward, eyes sharp with urgency. The murals around them begin shifting again, their once-static images bleeding into new shapes, new possibilities. Atharva watches in silent horror as the figure of the Serpent of Light wavers, its silhouette morphing between salvation and destruction. The unfinished mural at the far end of the chamber extends itself, fresh carvings etching across the ancient stone as if some unseen force is rewriting the prophecy in real time. 

The water surges higher, lapping at their ankles, and a deep rumble vibrates through the walls. The alignment is reaching its peak. The entire ruin trembles, the pressure in the air thickening, pressing against their lungs. A distant groan echoes through the abyss below, the sound of something vast and ancient stirring. The name slithers into their minds like a whisper from the depths, a name spoken in a language older than time itself. Atharva's heart stops for a beat—he knows this name, though he does not know how. It coils around his thoughts like an unseen chain, an undeniable truth he cannot yet grasp.

Miss Sophia grips a nearby pillar for balance. "Something's waking up," she mutters, her voice tight with realization. "And it knows we're here."

The ceiling cracks. Water cascades down in heavy streams as the foundation groans beneath them. The murals fracture, their shifting images freezing in place as if locked in indecision. Celestia's gaze flickers between the carvings and Atharva, her grip tightening around her staff. "We need to leave. Now."

The words barely leave her lips before the floor lurches beneath them. The altar at the chamber's center splits apart, sending shockwaves through the ruins. The water surges up in violent waves, swallowing the remnants of the trial. The deep rumble from below rises into a deafening roar. Atharva stumbles back as the ground beneath his feet fractures, a jagged crack splitting the stone in two. The air distorts, the weight of something unseen pressing down upon them, thick with an overwhelming sense of presence.

Luna grabs Atharva's arm. "We have to move!"

A sudden explosion of energy erupts from the depths. The floor shatters beneath them, and gravity ceases to exist. The ruins vanish in a blur of stone and water as they plummet into the abyss below.