Ding—
The sound was hollow, an absolute note that rang through the suffocating pressures of the abyss. There was no ripple in the water, no warmth in the current. Only a voice—cold, mechanical, and utterly devoid of life—echoed within the confines of his skull.
"Host has slain a Level One Evolved Baron."
"Host's body has evolved: Ninth-Level Earl Apex — White Shark."
Silence rushed back in, heavy as the miles of ocean overhead. As the physical transformation took hold, the "theater of the mind" flickered to life. Memories, once blurred by grief and confusion, suddenly sharpened into a jagged, agonizing mosaic.
He remembered Brork's wife—the look in her eyes before she died. He remembered the "chance" encounter at the bar, the staged heroics where he saved the beautiful Luna from a pack of thugs. He remembered the heavy, cloying dizziness of the drinks, consoling a "heartbroken" Brork, and the blackout that led to waking up in Luna's bed. He had taken "responsibility" for a night he couldn't even recall.
Now, in the clarity of his evolution, the missing pieces locked into place with the click of a predator's jaw.
The thugs? Brork's own subordinates.
The dizziness? Not grief, but a sedative.
The smirk Brork had flashed the waitress? A signal.
And finally, the memory of Brork's wife trying to warn him—only to be interrupted by Brork barging in with a hollow smile: "Honey, your mother and brother are here." Three days later, she was dead.
"Those... bastards!"
El-Mond's voice was a guttural growl that vibrated through the water. The realization hit him like a physical blow: everything had been orchestrated. He had been a pawn in a game he didn't even know was being played.
The deep around him began to tremble. Bubbles surged as the darkness recoiled from his mounting fury. Then, like a depth charge, his energy detonated, creating a momentary void in the crushing weight of the sea.
"I... will..." His eyes snapped open, glowing a fierce, predatory crimson. "Have my vengeance!"
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As his rage began to simmer into a cold, focused intent, something changed.
Way beneath him—deeper than light had ever dared to reach—a sound carried through the bones of the world. A crack. It was faint, yet it resonated through the stone and water, piercing directly into El-Mond's heightened senses.
A razor-thin beam of light erupted from a fracture in the ocean floor. It shot upward like a spear of divine judgment, striking El-Mond directly in the eyes.
"…Huh?"
His massive, evolved body froze. For the first time since the memories surfaced, his rage was eclipsed by a sudden, jarring curiosity. The pain of betrayal loosened its grip, replaced by an ancient pull.
Slowly, cautiously, the apex predator descended.
He swam toward the glow, but the deeper he went, the further the light seemed to drift. It was a phantom, always within reach but never quite grasped. Minutes dissolved into an hour.
"Tch. This is pointless," El-Mond spat, his gaze hardening. He turned his massive tail, prepared to abandon the chase.
WHAM!
An invisible force, absolute and undeniable, dragged at his very soul. His body convulsed as if he had been hooked by a god. He felt himself tear through an unseen veil—a boundary between the known world and something much older.
There was no pain, only a chilling sense of recognition. As if something ancient beyond measure had finally noticed him.
"Whatever," he muttered, clenching his teeth against the eerie sensation. "I'll see this through."
Twenty-five minutes of descending into the unknown finally revealed the source. El-Mond halted, his gills flaring in shock.
Before him stood a statue.
It was towering and carved from a strange, abyssal stone that seemed to swallow the very idea of movement. The figure was humanoid, but its anatomy was a nightmare of evolution: where arms should have been, there were vast, unnatural shark fins.
"What kind of creature is this?" He circled the monolith. Every instinct screamed danger, yet a deep, primal part of him felt a sense of reverence.
At the base of the statue, nestled within a fresh fracture, lay a diamond. It was small and perfect, radiating a brilliance so pure it felt violent.
"This tiny thing... sent out that beam?"
Without realizing it, El-Mond drifted closer. His mind blurred; his heartbeat quickened into a frantic rhythm. A whisper, silent yet thunderous, echoed in his mind: Touch it. Take it. It belongs to you.
SNAP!
El-Mond jerked back, his predatory instincts overriding the trance. "What just happened?!"
His breath grew uneven. He felt like a common firefly drawn to a flame that would consume him. The air—the water—everything here felt wrong.
"I should leave," he decided, turning to flee the oppressive silence of the shrine.
But he was too slow.
From the heart of the diamond, a shadow seeped out. It wasn't liquid or gas; it was a living darkness. Before El-Mond could strike, it surged forward, plunging into his chest.
"GRAAAHHH—!!"
His entire form buckled. Muscles tightened until they threatened to snap; veins bulged like straining cords. He writhed in the deep, a titan humbled by a speck of darkness.
Then came the stillness.
Total. Absolute.
El-Mond's massive form collapsed, sinking slowly until he rested at the base of the finned statue. Above him, the diamond dimmed, its light dying out until only the blackness of the abyss remained.
The silence reclaimed the trench, as though the world had forgotten he was there. But deep within El-Mond—far beyond flesh, bone, or even his new evolution—something stirred. Something ancient that had been waiting in the dark for a very, long time.
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To be continued...
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