Chapter 4: Trapped in the Heart —

The ocean outside groaned.

Jade blinked awake to that awful, deep-sea moan—the kind that sounded like a whale gargling its final regrets. His coral hut was pitch dark, save for the faint shimmer of the Lord's Core nestled in its pedestal.

He groaned.

"My kingdom is a glorified fish tank," he muttered, rubbing his eyes. "And I'm a sea cucumber with taxes."

Stretching his back—stiff from sleeping on carved coral—he kicked off his woven kelp blanket and shuffled barefoot to the glowing interface slab.

Day nine. No shampoo. No toothpaste. No updates from the surface world. And—more tragically—still no fried chicken.

But he had sentient merfolk now.

First was Kaelen, the strongest. Towering like a muscled merman version of a nightclub bouncer crossed with a sea urchin, Kaelen had bones like armored coral, a gravelly voice, and no sense of humor.

Then there was Neris, the swiftest. Sleek as a dolphin and with a tail that shimmered like liquid silver, she moved through the water like an arrow. Didn't talk much—just nodded. Creepy.

Third was Veyr, the most cunning. He had slitted eyes, a forked tongue, and a mischievous grin that never left his face. Jade didn't trust him, but damn was he good at building traps and tactics.

Last was Luka, the logistics genius. Short. Round. Carried a clipboard made of pearl. Talked nonstop.

So here he was—Lord of the Deep, Supreme Strategist of a Territory-sized Aquarium, and possibly the first person in history to attempt building an empire while having an actual panic attack.

He paced.

Then circled.

Then paced again.

"Okay, okay," he said aloud, slapping his cheeks. "Get it together, Jade. Breathe. Think. War bunker first. Strategy second. Hair products third."

He flicked open the Territory Menu and studied his expansion data. Defensive coral had grown 4.7% overnight thanks to Luka's supply chains. Kaelen had finished reinforcing the eastern ridge, and Veyr had reported five new trench routes mapped and booby-trapped.

Neris? She was watching a shark. For fun.

"Why is she like this?"

Jade shook his head.

The First Strategy Meeting

"Alright, troops," Jade announced, seated cross-legged on a throne made of driftwood and bones (courtesy of Kaelen, who proudly announced it had been 'an unruly sea bear.' Whatever that meant).

His merfolk gathered, silent and attentive.

"I've decided to name this meeting Operation: Not Dying Like an Idiot."

Kaelen blinked slowly. Luka snickered. Veyr was already taking notes.

Neris just watched him.

Unnerving.

"I'm assigning you special roles," Jade declared. "We're moving out of the 'floundering' phase and into the 'maybe we don't suck' phase."

He tapped on the glowing strategy slate.

"Kaelen, I want you on frontline defense. I need choke points, melee drills, and a kill ratio that makes sharks cry."

Kaelen nodded once. "Accepted."

"Veyr, keep doing your sneaky bastard thing. Scout the trenches. I want every enemy that walks into my domain to step on something that screams. And provide long range support if needed"

"My specialty," Veyr grinned, showing all his needle-like teeth.

"Luka, you're in charge of logistics and supply optimization. And whatever it is you're already doing that makes my storage grow every day."

Luka puffed up. "I've already organized a rotatable kelp currency. Also, I named the warehouses."

"…You what?"

"The northern one is Bubbles. South is Bitey."

"…Of course."

Finally, he turned to Neris.

"You're… my mobility commander. Fast recon, flanking units. Basically, be terrifying but make it fashion."

She blinked slowly. Then gave him a thumbs-up.

"Terrifying. But make it fashion."

Jade's Journal, Entry #27

We still don't have toilets. But we've named the supply rooms. Progress?

I think Kaelen is part rock. Luka might be running a secret fish mafia. Veyr has invented three new ways to kill a person using barnacles.

Neris just stares at the abyss like it owes her money.

Back in the Real World…

Silvermist Provincial High buzzed with life.

Lucien paced through the academy courtyard again, scanning student activity with tight lips. Elia pranced nearby, her fire elemental glowing smugly beside her.

"He's still not back?" she cooed, sipping bubble tea.

Lucien didn't answer.

She leaned closer. "Please. Jade Meridien was a footnote. Fat. Shy. Weird. The only thing impressive about him was how fast he fell."

He turned sharply.

"You didn't see his summons."

"Oh? What were they? Sparkly?"

"No," Lucien whispered.

Elia blinked.

Lucien walked off.

Back underwater, Jade launched his first full-scale simulation.

Kaelen led five units in mock combat against a wave of summoned creatures—sludge eels, spinefish, and a rather judgmental jellyfish Veyr swore was once a philosopher.

Each unit had a role. Shields. Spears. Trap-setters. Divers.

Jade watched from his hut, interface pulsing.

"Kaelen, engage center. Neris, flank from the thermal vent ridge. Veyr, give me a pit trap thirty meters behind the decoy coral."

"Already there," Veyr whispered through the comm-glyph.

Luka's voice echoed. "Supplies still almost full. If Kaelen breaks another spear, I will cry."

"Noted," Jade replied.

The battle began.

It was chaos.

Beautiful, organized chaos.

His merfolk didn't just fight—they adapted. They shifted formations. They drew enemies in, collapsed walls on them, used terrain to their advantage.

Even the jellyfish philosopher died confused.

At the end of the simulation, Jade collapsed against the throne.

Sweaty. Starving.

Grinning like a maniac.

"We might actually survive."

That night, Jade stood atop the coral ridge.

The ocean shimmered below. His territory stretched wide, laced with defenses, choke points, traps, and patrols. His merfolk glided through the depths like ghosts.

He clutched a chalk stick, heart full.

Then, with slow, careful hands, he carved four new words beneath the last ones.

"Let them come next."

The Core pulsed.

And somewhere above, stars blinked.