Darkness swallowed Riku whole.
Not the kind that comes from closed eyes or moonless nights—this was heavier, thicker, alive. It wrapped around him like a vast, cold lung inhaling, pulling him deeper and deeper into its unseen throat.
He tried to scream.Only bubbles escaped.
He wasn't underwater—he was inside something.
A void that pulsed around him, the way muscles tighten when swallowing. The pressure crushed against his ribs, squeezing air from his lungs. The darkness shivered, and then—
whispers.
Thousands of them.Layered over each other.Crying. Begging. Cursing.All speaking directly inside his skull.
One voice rose above the others:
"Fear is the anchor."
Riku thrashed, fighting the pressure, but the darkness thickened around him, gripping tighter. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. Panic surged through his body—raw, icy, primal.
The voice laughed.
"Your terror feeds the deep."
A cold hand brushed his back.
Riku jerked.
Another hand slid across his leg.
Then another across his neck.
He wasn't alone in here.
Dozens of hands—rotted, swollen, flesh soft as jelly—crawled over him like blind things searching for warmth. Fingers like wet ropes wrapped around his arms, tugging him down.
Riku kicked, twisted, but the darkness shifted with him.
Something enormous moved nearby.
A shape.
A head.
Eyes like two pale moons opened in the void, watching him calmly… hungrily. The Umibōzu's real form—vast and formless—towered above him. Here, in its domain, it was not a shadow but the ocean's own consciousness, ancient and bottomless.
Riku's chest burned.He couldn't breathe.He couldn't think.
Then—
A bright flash tore through the darkness.
For a split second, the hands recoiled.The monster flinched.
A voice echoed faintly, far away:
"Riku! Hold on!"
Aya.
She was close.
The darkness convulsed violently, slamming Riku sideways. The void churned, and the whispers turned to shrieks. Light pierced the black again—brief, flickering, but stronger.
Aya was performing the ritual.
The Black Tide didn't like that.
The Umibōzu bellowed, a sound so deep it vibrated through Riku's bones. The hands clamped down harder, dragging him back toward the creature.
Riku's vision blurred.
He couldn't escape.
He couldn't breathe.
He couldn't—
A hand grabbed his wrist.
But this one was warm.
Human.
Aya's light cut through the void once more, opening a thin rift—like a crack in the darkness. Her silhouette appeared on the other side, trembling but determined, a small glowing charm in her hand.
"Riku!" she cried. "Take my hand! NOW!"
The rotted hands tightened around him.
The Umibōzu roared again.
Riku pushed through the pain, through the suffocating terror, and reached forward with every last ounce of strength.
His fingers brushed Aya's.
Then latched on.
Her grip closed around his wrist—
—and the darkness screamed.
A surge of light ripped through the void like fire through oil. The rotten hands dissolved into black mist. The pressure shattered. Riku was yanked upward with brutal force.
Water exploded around him.
He broke the surface, gasping, coughing, clinging to Aya as she hauled him onto the shrine steps. His body shook violently, lungs burning, limbs numb.
Aya held him tightly, eyes wide with relief and terror.
"Riku… you were gone for almost a full minute."
He coughed seawater."I saw… I heard…"He shook, unable to finish.
Aya cupped his face."It wasn't just pulling your body under," she whispered. "It was pulling your mind."
Riku looked back at the sea.
The Umibōzu's silhouette still towered in the mist—but now it writhed, twisting in pain from the ritual's light.
Aya stood, lifting the glowing charm again.
"It's not done," she said. "But neither are we."
The monster turned toward them.
Its eyes—pale, endless—locked on Riku.
Its voice rose like a tidal surge:
"YOU ARE MINE."
The ocean lunged.
Aya braced herself.
Riku rose beside her.
Together, facing the Black Tide.
To be continued…