CHAPTER FORTY SIX: THE TEMPEST WITHIN

"You never know how strong you are until being strong is your only choice." — Bob Marley

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Gravill barely had time to gasp before the water rose again — this time not as a test, but as a force. It slammed into him like a living beast, wrapping around his limbs and dragging him back into the depths. His lungs screamed, his muscles spasmed, but he didn't fight it.

Not anymore.

He sank, the crushing weight of the sea pressing down on his chest. But unlike before, he didn't feel lost. He felt present. Aware. He let the ocean carry him, let it twist around him like a serpent, coiling tighter and tighter until he wasn't sure where his body ended and the water began.

And then, from the depths, it came.

The reflection. The other him.

It reformed, piecing itself back together like the fragments of a broken wave, rising out of the gloom with eyes like lightning and a mouth curled into a vicious, teeth-baring grin. It moved faster this time, its presence sharper, more predatory. The water rippled with each of its steps, the pressure distorting the world around them.

But Gravill didn't run.

He clenched his fists, feeling the weight of the ocean in his palms, and charged.

They collided like storms.

The reflection lashed out, claws of jagged water slicing through the currents. Gravill ducked, feeling the sting as one caught his shoulder, blood curling into the sea like smoke. He ignored the pain, swinging back with all his strength. His punch hit the reflection's jaw, the force echoing through the depths, but the doppelgänger only laughed — a sound that distorted the water, sharp and cruel.

"You'll never be enough," it hissed, voice warped like a thousand voices speaking at once. "You'll drown in your own fear."

Gravill gritted his teeth and kept fighting.

They exchanged blow after blow, each strike a clash of willpower. The water boiled around them, thunderous with every impact, but the reflection never slowed. It never tired. It attacked with relentless fury, every movement a reflection of Gravill's deepest doubts and darkest thoughts.

He was losing.

His body weakened, his lungs burned, and despair clawed at the edges of his mind like a relentless tide. For every step he took forward, the reflection dragged him two steps back. And it spoke, taunting him, driving salt into the wound.

"You'll destroy everything you love."

"You're not a son of the sea — you're its mistake."

"You will never be enough."

The words cut deeper than any strike, each one a weight sinking into his chest. He staggered, vision blurring, knees buckling as the reflection loomed over him, jagged fingers curling around his throat.

But then — a voice.

Soft. Familiar.

Elsa's voice.

"Come back."

It wasn't real. It couldn't be. But it didn't matter. The sound of her voice pierced through the storm inside him like a beacon, and something in Gravill snapped.

He wasn't just fighting for himself.

He was fighting for her.

For Nicholas.

For everyone waiting for him to rise.

The reflection tightened its grip, dragging Gravill closer until their faces nearly touched. Its eyes burned, wild and unhinged. "You're mine," it whispered.

Gravill's fingers twitched.

Then he grabbed the reflection's wrist.

And he squeezed.

"No," he growled, voice raw and jagged. "I belong to the storm."

The ocean surged around him, responding to his will. A pulse rippled through the water — not violent, not destructive, but controlled. Focused. The reflection's grin faltered for the first time as the current shifted, the sea bending not to chaos but to Gravill's command.

He rose, the ocean lifting him, and slammed his forehead into the reflection's face with a force that cracked the water like thunder. The reflection reeled, and Gravill didn't stop. He drove his fist into its chest, the impact shattering it again — but this time, the pieces didn't scatter.

They dissolved.

The reflection disintegrated, unraveling into streams of light that flowed into Gravill's body like returning fragments of his soul. His heartbeat steadied. His breathing slowed. And the water — the endless abyss — began to fade.

He wasn't drowning.

He was ascending.

---

Gravill gasped, coughing up seawater as he collapsed onto the platform. The chamber spun around him, but he was alive. He pressed a trembling hand to his chest, feeling his heart hammering like a war drum, and for the first time, it didn't feel out of control.

It felt like his.

The old man watched him in silence, eyes glinting with something unreadable. After a long moment, he crouched beside Gravill and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You didn't kill it," he said quietly.

Gravill wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, blinking up at the old man. "I didn't have to," he rasped.

The old man's expression softened. He nodded. "Then you understand," he said. "The sea is not something you conquer. It's something you become part of."

Gravill dragged himself upright, shaking but steady. He turned to the platform, the water now still and clear, reflecting his face back at him.

It was just his face now.

No reflection. No monster.

Just him.

"I'm ready," he said, voice quiet but unyielding.

The old man smiled, the faintest curve of his lips, and stepped aside.

The chamber doors groaned as they opened, revealing a long corridor stretching into darkness.

"Then walk, child of the storm," the old man said. "And meet what lies beyond."

Gravill didn't hesitate.

He stepped into the unknown — and the doors slammed shut behind him.

The ocean, at last, was silent.