Eo emerged.

  His body broke through the surface of the water with effortless grace, yet his mind was anything but still. The moment his form ascended into the world above, a flood of unfamiliar sensations rushed in—air, light, weightlessness—each one registering in rapid succession.

  The difference between the abyss and the surface world was staggering. The magic here was thin. It lacked the density, the weight, the raw force he had grown accustomed to. If the abyss was an ocean of magic, then this place was a desert. The air felt weak against his body, light as if it held no resistance. The pressure that had always been present in the depths was gone, leaving him feeling… unbound.

  Eo took a slow step forward.

  Yet, instead of sinking, he remained standing atop the water, as though the surface recognized his presence and dared not swallow him. His body adapted instinctively, adjusting to this new environment. He tested it further, shifting his weight, taking deliberate steps forward, watching how the water responded beneath his movements. It did not yield.

  Interesting.

  He took his time absorbing everything.

  The vast sky above—endless, layered with shifting clouds that moved in patterns unknown to him. The way the wind swept across the surface of the ocean, carrying scents unlike the abyssal depths. The distant land, stable and unmoving, unlike the ever-changing currents of the deep. Everything was new, everything was different, and Eo’s mind devoured each discovery with silent, insatiable hunger.

  Yet something felt off.

  His gaze shifted to the shoreline.

  Four figures lay there—trembling.

  They were on all fours, their bodies wracked with visible strain. One, clad in heavy armor, heaved violently before vomiting blood onto the wet sand. Another, wild-eyed and lost in a world of his own, muttered unintelligible words to someone who did not exist. The others gritted their teeth, as if resisting an unseen force crushing them under its weight.

  Eo observed.

  Their reactions were too severe to be simple weakness. They were not drowning, nor were they suffocating. Yet their muscles spasmed, their skin paled, and their magic—though faint—shuddered as if resisting something beyond their comprehension.

  Eo moved.

  Not quickly, but at a steady, deliberate pace across the water, closing the distance between them. He wanted to observe closer.

  But then—

  Their suffering worsened.

  The armored one choked, his body convulsing. The muttering man clutched his head, his breath ragged, eyes unfocused. The others gasped, their limbs trembling violently, as though their very existence was being compressed by an unseen force.

  Eo slowed.

  The shift in their condition was undeniable. The nearer he came, the more severe their distress became.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  His mind processed the information with sharp precision. Was it an external force? No. An environmental reaction? No. Then what—?

  Then it struck him.

  It was him.

  Or rather—something from within him.

  Eo had not noticed it before, but something in his very presence was exerting force. A formless, suffocating weight, rolling outward from his body in relentless waves. It was not magic—not in the structured, refined form humans wielded. It was something more primal, more instinctual.

  And yet—

  Eo's gaze locked onto the wild-eyed one.

  This man was different.

  Despite the agony twisting through his form, despite the unnatural pressure pressing down on him, his eyes never left Eo.

  And within him—deep, buried beneath his mortal shell—there was something.

  Something familiar.

  Something similar.

  Yet, at the same time—different.

  Eo’s curiosity sharpened.

  What was inside this man? Why did it feel like… a reflection of his own transformation?

  ---

  Aelith couldn’t breathe.

  The air around her had become thick—too thick, too heavy, too wrong. Every breath she tried to take felt like swallowing a weight that crushed her lungs from the inside. Her limbs trembled violently, muscles straining against an invisible force that seeped into her bones like a suffocating tide.

  She could feel it in her very core—a primal, ancient pressure pressing down on her existence.

  And yet, through the haze of her failing body, through the overwhelming nausea that twisted her insides, she forced herself to lift her head.

  Something was coming.

  From the water.

  The moment her eyes landed on it—her mind froze.

  A figure stood atop the sea, moving toward them without sinking, without resistance, without effort.

  It wasn’t walking in the way a human would. No hesitation, no imbalance. Every step was precise, natural, absolute. As if the ocean itself had accepted its presence, bending to its will rather than dragging it down.

  Aelith’s instincts screamed.

  Her body, despite the overwhelming agony coursing through it, knew—this was not something that belonged to the surface world.

  It had come from below.

  From the depths.

  And it was watching them.

  She could barely make out its form through the blur of her pain, but the details she did see only worsened the dread sinking into her mind.

  It was not human.

  Its body shimmered, glistening with a texture she couldn’t recognize—not wet, not slimy, but something else entirely. It moved too smoothly, too fluidly, its shape almost unnatural in how seamlessly it blended into the water.

  But the worst part—the absolute worst part—

  Was its eyes.

  Glowing with eerie clarity, they bore into them—not with malice, not with pity, but with something far more terrifying.

  Curiosity.

  It was studying them.

  Not like a predator watching prey, nor an enemy sizing up an opponent. No, this was something else—something deeper.

  It was learning.

  Aelith’s heart pounded.

  Her mind reeled.

  She wanted to scream.

  But the force crushing her body only intensified as the being came closer.

  And then—she saw Frid.

  The man was still on all fours, his body wrecked with violent spasms, yet his expression was different.

  Unlike her and the others, whose faces were twisted in sheer agony, Frid’s lips were moving, forming words that made no sense. Speaking to someone who wasn’t there.

  Agatha.

  The name slipped past his lips like a prayer. A plea. A whisper of a memory.

  But then—

  He paused.

  His gaze, unfocused and lost, suddenly snapped to the being before them.

  His bloodshot eyes widened.

  And for the first time since this nightmare began—

  He smiled.

  Aelith felt something cold crawl up her spine.

  Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

  And the creature in the water—it had noticed Frid, too.

  It had stopped.

  For the first time since it emerged, it had halted its movement.

  Not because of them.

  Not because of the pressure weighing them down.

  But because of Frid.

  And in that moment, despite the pain consuming her body—

  Aelith realized something horrifying.

  The pressure suffocating them, the force invading their very souls—

  It wasn’t intentional.

  It wasn’t a deliberate attack.

  It was simply existing.

  And yet—it was enough to break them.