The pressure gauge trembled as Aegir-9 sank deeper into the trench. The floodlights carved ribbons of white through the black water, glinting off shards of stone that floated like dust in a forgotten cathedral.
Inside the submersible, Dr. Elise Navarro adjusted her headset. "Hull integrity stable," she said, her voice calm despite the flicker of unease in her eyes. "Depth— eleven thousand meters and counting. Visibility dropping to twenty percent."
The trench walls around them were alive with faint veins of gold, pulsing in rhythm — slow, deliberate, almost like breathing. The deeper they went, the more those lights intertwined, forming spirals that twisted across the rocks like living script.
Navarro swallowed. "This pattern— it's changing. It's responding to us."
From the Leviathan on the surface, Roman's voice came through the static. "You're close. Sensors indicate the core source is within one hundred meters directly below your current position. Proceed slowly."
Navarro glanced at her copilot. "Thrusters to ten percent. Bring us in."
The sub descended into a widening chasm. The sonar painted the shape of something vast beneath them — a structure that seemed both mechanical and organic. When the darkness parted, the crew fell silent.
It was a dome. Perfectly round, half-buried in the trench floor, formed from the same black stone found in the Nok relics — smooth, impossible, ancient. At its center floated a crystalline sphere the size of a small car, suspended within a halo of golden mist that pulsed with slow heartbeats of light.
Navarro's voice broke the stillness. "Contact confirmed. Visual on object."
"Describe it," Roman ordered.
She hesitated. "It's not just light, sir. It's thinking. The currents around it are shifting with our movement."
On the Leviathan, Roman's reflection flickered in the screen as he leaned closer to the feed. His dark eyes narrowed. "Deploy the containment net. We've waited too long for this."
Navarro nodded to her crew. Robotic arms extended from the submersible, unfolding like metal petals. Fine strands of titanium lattice stretched outward, forming a containment field around the orb. The moment the net touched the relic, the ocean screamed.
Every monitor in the cabin flared white. The hull groaned, and an invisible force rippled outward, sending shockwaves through the trench. The lights flickered, and for an instant, Navarro saw something impossible — faces moving within the glow of the relic, human and not, whispering soundlessly.
Her hands trembled. "Sir, it's reacting to contact. There's… something alive inside—"
"Hold position!" Roman's voice snapped. "Do not release it!"
Outside, the containment net solidified, tightening around the sphere. The golden light dimmed, pulsing faster, as if gasping for breath. A low hum filled the water, resonating through every bolt of the sub.
Navarro steadied her breath. "Containment complete. Power levels stabilizing."
Roman exhaled sharply on the comm. "Good work, Doctor. Bring it up."
As Aegir-9 began its slow ascent, the crew watched the relic flicker — golden veins shifting like veins beneath translucent skin. For a brief moment, Navarro thought she saw symbols forming on its surface — the same spirals that adorned the Nok artifacts Roman had once shown her. But then they vanished, replaced by silence.
---
Surface Command — Vessel Leviathan
The relic was lowered into a containment chamber aboard the Leviathan, its glow subdued but constant, illuminating the dark bay with an eerie calm. Technicians in reinforced suits sealed the chamber and began data scans.
Roman stood before the observation glass, hands clasped behind his back. The hum of the relic filled the air — soft, rhythmic, alive.
Dr. Navarro entered quietly behind him, her face pale. "We almost lost the hull pressure when we made contact. Whatever this thing is, it doesn't want to be here."
Roman didn't turn. "And yet it is." He glanced toward the containment cell. "Do you understand what this means, Elise? The Nok fragments we studied were only fragments — keys to something greater. This… this is the heart of it."
Navarro frowned. "Sir, we don't even know what it does. The energy field could destabilize at any moment—"
"Which is why it must be controlled," Roman interrupted, his tone hard. "Send all telemetry to the Manhattan lab. I want every reading — gravitational, electromagnetic, biological."
He tapped a screen, opening a secure channel. Five encrypted icons blinked across the display. One after another, four of them dimmed, leaving a single symbol pulsing red — the insignia of a serpent coiled around a star.
Roman hesitated, then accepted the connection.
The screen filled with static before resolving into the shadowed face of a man seated behind a marble desk — the dictator of an unnamed Central European state, known to few simply as The Chancellor. His eyes were cold, glacial, the color of iron beneath frost.
"Roman," he said in a low voice. "I trust your message means success."
Roman inclined his head. "The Pacific relic is secured. We've transferred it aboard the Leviathan. Initial analysis confirms the energy signature matches the one we extracted from the Amour in Africa. It's authentic."
A slow smile touched the dictator's lips. "Then the Maker's trail lives after all. Excellent work."
Roman's expression remained unreadable. "There were… complications. The relic responded to an external source — a resonance from the Jos plateau. We believe it was activated by someone."
"Someone?" the Chancellor repeated, leaning forward. "You mean the boy — the one whose blood awakened the first artifact?"
Roman's silence was answer enough.
The dictator chuckled softly. "Then fate is generous. Secure the relic. I will see to the political veil for this operation. The world must not know what you've unearthed."
Roman nodded. "Understood. Extraction is already en route to the Manhattan facility. Once the relic is stabilized, we'll begin synchronization trials."
The Chancellor's eyes glimmered with ambition. "Be careful, Chief Roman. Power this ancient is never loyal to those who grasp it. It remembers its makers."
The call ended, leaving the faint hum of the relic filling the air again — a sound like breathing beneath water.
Roman turned back toward the glass, watching golden currents shift within the orb. "It remembers," he whispered to himself. "And soon… it will answer."
---
Below Deck
Dr. Navarro lingered by the containment chamber, her reflection trembling on the glass. The relic pulsed faintly, almost rhythmically — as if it knew she was watching. For a fleeting instant, the golden light inside formed a symbol — a spiral intersected by a vertical line, identical to the one burned into Chuka's palm during his escape from the plateau.
Navarro's pulse quickened. "Roman," she murmured under her breath, "what have we brought up from the dark?"
Outside, the waves shifted, glowing faintly with gold before fading back into blackness. Far across the ocean, under the same stars, Chuka awoke suddenly — heart racing, his spirit resonating with the relic now imprisoned in Roman's ship.
The connection had begun.
---