The Mark of the Abyss

The abyss still called to him.

Daniel floated in the darkened waters, his gills expanding and contracting in slow, steady rhythms. The water around him was almost liquid night—a vast expanse of shadow punctuated only by the eerie glow of an abyssal rift far below. That pale, pulsing light beat like a hidden heart in the depths, sending silent tremors through the water and through Daniel's very soul. It was a beckoning call that clawed at the edges of his consciousness, a murmur that promised both revelation and ruin.

"You almost lost yourself back there," Mira's voice came softly, calm yet laced with concern. She hovered beside him, her lithe form outlined in the shimmering bioluminescence of the currents that danced around them. Her eyes, golden and watchful, never left his.