The Sand Dunes of Markilao lay still beneath the blazing sun, the Pyramids of Markilao rising from the desert like ancient gods frozen in time. Their pale stone shimmered against endless gold, symbols carved deep into their faces—warnings, prayers, histories no one remembered anymore.
Desert Cats lounged around the ruins, tails swaying lazily, ears twitching at the wind.
Then the wind died.
The air went cold.
A sharp crack echoed across the dunes as silver-white lunar energy tore through the sky. Sand detonated upward in a violent plume, rolling across the desert like a living wave.
The Desert Cats panicked instantly.
They bolted—leaping, sprinting, scrambling over stone and dune alike. Cries echoed as paws slipped in the loose sand. Fear spread faster than the shockwave.
Dark Don descended slowly from above.
His wings stretched wide, edged in glowing silver light. Lunar energy bled from his body in violent pulses—white, radiant, and unstable, carving glowing scars into the dunes beneath him. The ground cracked wherever his power touched it.
He landed hard.
The sand cratered outward.
Dark Don clenched his fists, breathing unevenly. His chest rose and fell like he'd just finished a war—but there was no enemy here. Just ruins. Just silence.
"I should've finished him," he muttered.
His voice trembled—not with fear, but with rage aimed inward.
A pyramid behind him split down the middle, stone screaming as lunar energy surged from his back. The top collapsed, raining glowing debris into the sand.
"I had the chance."
Another step forward—another burst of silver light. Dunes flattened. Stone pillars shattered. Ancient markings were erased in a blink, reduced to dust.
Something felt wrong.
He knew it back then. In that moment. When Don was vulnerable.
And he hesitated.
Dark Don growled, clutching his head. Lunar energy flared wildly, white arcs snapping through the air like lightning made of moonlight.
"Silicia wouldn't have wanted mercy," he said—then stopped.
His jaw tightened.
No.
She wouldn't have wanted this either.
A soft sound broke through the chaos.
A whimper.
Dark Don turned sharply.
At the base of a half-buried pillar stood a single Desert Cat—smaller than the others, sandy fur dusted with silver debris. Her ears were pinned back, tail wrapped tight around herself. She wasn't running.
She couldn't.
Their eyes met.
Ella froze.
The lunar glow reflected in her wide eyes as Dark Don stared down at her. His energy surged instinctively, silver light rising like a tide—
Then stopped.
His breath caught.
For a split second, the dunes were silent again.
Ella took a shaky step back, paws trembling. "P-Please…" Her voice was barely louder than the wind. "We didn't do anything."
Dark Don said nothing.
His fists unclenched slowly.
The lunar energy around him flickered—still powerful, still dangerous, but no longer exploding outward. The dunes stopped collapsing. The silver light dimmed, pulling back toward his body like a restrained storm.
He looked away first.
"…Run," he said quietly.
Ella didn't argue.
She turned and sprinted, disappearing over the dunes with the rest of her people.
Dark Don stood alone among the ruins.
The Pyramids of Markilao were shattered. The Sand Dunes scarred and glowing faintly with lunar residue. His power had won—but it felt hollow.
He stared at his trembling hands.
"I hesitated," he whispered. "And now everything's broken."
Silver energy pulsed once more around him—not outward this time, but inward—tight, controlled, angry.
Dark Don spread his wings.
The moonlight flared.
And he vanished, leaving only ruined sand, broken stone… and the echo of a choice he couldn't take back.
Near the Gadian Sea
The silver moon hovered above us like it was personally offended by the concept of subtlety, flexing so hard it almost bullied the stars out of the sky. The stars still tried their best, sparkling nonstop like, "No yeah bro, we're totally part of this scene too."
It was pitch black—criminally dark. The kind of dark where if something moves two feet away, it legally stops existing. We stood at the edge of a towering red cliff overlooking a maze of canyons that dumped straight into the Gadian Sea, which was currently doing the ocean equivalent of screaming into a microphone.
The waves smashed together violently, then backed off like, "Okay okay, too much, my bad." Fish and dolphins launched out of the water in perfectly timed jumps like they were rehearsing for SeaWorld auditions. The water fizzed white and blue, churning like soda someone shook way too hard. It echoed across the sea, dramatic as hell.
We all stared down into the abyss.
Naturally, Prince ruined the moment.
"Okay cool cool cool—SERIOUS QUESTION—HOW DO WE GO UNDERWATER WITHOUT, Y'KNOW, DYING?!" he shrieked, leaning over the edge like gravity had personally beefed with him.
Here's the breakdown:
Demaurion and Power? Completely unbothered. Built for this. Underwater breathing is light work.
Me? I can survive in space. Not bragging. Okay, I'm bragging.
Olsen? Underground breathing. Dirt lungs. Respect.
Prince? Can rip air pressure apart with lightning.
Underwater breathing though?
Yeah. That skill tree was not unlocked for most of us.
Power—the walking game exploit—could probably breathe lava if he felt like it. Demaurion, though? Water is literally his brand. Bro runs the Water Element, was born in the Gadian Sea, full Leviathan by birth. Ocean DNA installed at character creation.
Demaurion casually pulled out four glowing coins and tossed them at us.
"Think fast."
We scrambled like idiots, caught them, and stared. Each coin glowed deep ocean blue, carved with a water droplet symbol that pulsed like it had a heartbeat.
"What are these?" I asked.
"Gais," Demaurion said, eyes still on the waves like he was having a dramatic album-cover moment. "Made by the Mythical Levi. Touch one, breathe underwater. No time limit."
"…That's it?"
"That's it."
I pocketed mine immediately. Zero trust in the universe.
Demaurion smirked as water began swirling around his feet.
"So… who's ready to get wet?"
Archie didn't even wait. His Phoenix wings burst into flames as he leapt off the cliff screaming something unintelligible and cannonballed straight into the sea. Fire trailed behind him for exactly half a second before physics stepped in.
SPLASH.
We all stared.
"CANONBALL!" I yelled, immediately jumping after him like a responsible leader. I hit the water hard—and instantly everything changed. The chaos faded. It was calm. Quiet. Like falling into a dream someone actually knew how to design.
Underwater, the world straight-up flexed.
The ocean floor glowed with coral in every color imaginable—reds, pinks, yellows, neon greens, glowing whites. It looked less like nature and more like an underwater city that hired an interior designer with taste. Massive dune valleys cradled coral-built structures. Smooth stone towers rose up with glowing windows, like the ocean decided to invent architecture.
Fish zipped past. Dolphins zigzagged like they were late for something. Sharks cruised calmly, giving "security guard on night shift" energy. Clownfish peeked from coral crevices. A hammerhead drifted by me like I was background scenery.
"This… is beautiful," I muttered, touching the ocean floor.
Demaurion stood ahead, arms crossed, eyes softer than I'd ever seen them.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "I miss this place."
The others landed nearby, splashing everywhere and spinning around like tourists who forgot how to act.
I walked up beside Demaurion and nudged him. "Didn't know you were sentimental about your hometown. You're usually the 'I will bite someone today' type—"
"Finish that sentence," he growled, face turning red.
Short fuse. Never change.
Glowing fish drifted by like living lanterns. Pink and blue shells shimmered faintly along the ground. I glanced up—the moon through the water looked massive. Like a silver eye watching us.
"Everyone's asleep," Olsen said.
He was right. Lights on. No movement. Just calm.
Demaurion lifted his arms and shaped the water into a sleek dinghy. We climbed in, and the boat made a soft gurgling noise like it was alive and mildly confused.
"Take us to Reef City," he whispered.
The boat moved.
We glided under stone arches, past towering coral spires. Dreamlike. Unreal.
Then Reef City came into view—and yeah. It went crazy.
The citizens were literal water beings, their bodies rippling like liquid statues. Boats drifted everywhere—some slow, some fast. Massive ridges framed the city, thin rock spires stabbing upward like ribs. Lights flickered from narrow openings—homes, probably.
We went deeper, through coral-packed canyons. Fish swirled overhead. Turtles slept on ledges. Life zoomed past in every direction.
Top 10 most beautiful places in Avangard. Easily.
But something felt off.
Everyone here was made of water.
Everyone except Demaurion.
I leaned toward him. "Hey… why are you the only one here with skin?"
He paused.
"My mom went into labor before we reached the Gadian Kingdom," he said quietly. "We were still on Iris Town's shore. I got impatient. Kicked too much. Decided her stomach was a prison and escaped early."
I blinked. "…So you were born on land."
"Yeah," he nodded. "My parents were pure water-beings. I wasn't. Still Oceananite—but different. They mocked me. During the war… my friends didn't make it."
Silence.
"So I chose," he said, gripping his trident. "Run from it—or fight it. I chose to fight. I am Demaurion—the Leviathan. And I will become a Hero of Avangard. Not just for the prophecy… but so no one ever calls me a freak again."
I smiled. "You got this, bro. No doubt."
I leaned back. "Honestly? I wanna be a Hero too. I used to be a joke. But now? Commander. Chosen one. I finally feel like I matter."
Then—
RRRRRRRRMMMMMM.
The water shook.
A massive cave loomed ahead. Coral-covered. Dark.
A roar echoed through the abyss.
I checked the map. My stomach dropped.
"…We're at the Leviathan Pool."
"CAN THIS BOAT DO A U-TURN?!" Prince yelled.
Too late.
A massive tentacle erupted from the depths and grabbed the boat. We flew into the air, screaming like our lives depended on it.
"AAAAAAAAA—!"
SPLAAAAASH!
The Leviathan rose.
Golden eyes glowed. Mist rolled in. Waves churned violently.
Prince whispered, shaking, "I think… I peed a little."
The creature towered above us—a colossal sea dragon with rows of razor-clean teeth, scales of stormy blue and purple, eight massive cyan tentacles twitching with bad intentions.
A tsunami rose behind it.
"IT'S A COLOSSAL WAVE!" I yelled.
Demaurion leapt from the boat and sliced the wave in half with a single motion. Water exploded into mist. He landed on the surface, transformed—Leviathan hybrid, scarred, glowing, unstoppable.
He raised his trident, eyes locked on the ancient monster.
"Throw one more wave," he growled, "and I'm turning those tentacles into seafood dinner, cousin."