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Doman strides forward without hesitation, pressing his arms through the air shield and jumping forward, slicing into the waters.

His body is pure art, cutting forward, his muscles taut as he swims. Titus follows him, pressing his head through first and testing the air in the shield, and when he’s satisfied, his legs flex as he jumps into the ocean.

Gallien reaches out. I take his hand, and he pulls me behind him as he presses gracefully through the barrier, his legs kicking as he pulls me through the waters. The water is cold against my naked skin. I know how to swim, but I swallow my pride, because these three are like Olympians.

No. They’re like the gods the original Olympians prayed to.

The Aurelians surge forward, their streamlined forms cutting through the endless black waters.

Deep below, the pressure of the ocean presses against us, but the air-shields let us breathe easily.

There are no currents, no flows, just heavy waters that the aliens press onwards through, Gallien kicking with strong, heavy strokes as he pulls me behind him.

I feel like my own butterfly kicks are performative.

The canyon wall before us extends upwards, a wall of rock that touches the floating crust of mineral and rocks that masks Etherion’s cities below. The huge, pitch-black maw of the cave is wide as the bay of the warship’s hangar.

We swim in blackness. My body feels weightless, and darkness presses out in all directions, but far above, there is a glimmer of greenish blue light, faint yet appearing brilliant in contrast to the endless depths of ink-black that stretches around us.

We swim upwards, until our heads pop out into an air-filled chamber in the underwater cave. The humidity is oppressive, the air wetly filtering through the orbs around our heads, and I get my bearings. It’s hard to tell where the water ends and the air begins.

The cavern is shrouded in darkness, punctuated by bioluminescent algae carpeting the rocks ahead.

The only sound is the wet, slithering slaps of the tentacles, gliding with grand, deliberate pace over the algae, eliciting luminescent reactions that illuminate the rock floor in transient hues of greens and blues.

Half-seen shapes, indistinct shadows. It is the sacred cavern of the Guardians, where chosen Etherions are graced with prophetic visions, visions as murky as the shapes that slither through the darkness.

I should be terrified. I know that the krakens have never harmed a human, but being so helpless, surrounded by the shapes of the gargantuan beasts, I have to force down the thought that the triad and I could be a threat to Etherion so great, the krakens betray their laws of non-violence.

Yet, as my eyes adjust to the faint light of the cave, the huge forms of the Aurelians treading water around me, forming up in a tight, protective circle, calm me.

Gallien keeps his hand tight around mine, and he looks over at me, not a trace of fear in his eyes.

They were once my enemies, but now they give me a sense of security, a buffer against the unknowns of the cavern.

Then, a sudden rush, not of panic, but cold, rational fear.

Aeris spoke of the end of time.

She’d doom Pentaris if it meant saving the universe. She would let every citizen of Etherion be snuffed out by the avenging queen if it meant keeping the threads of time intact.

Did she bring us here and make the Aurelians leave their weapons for the Krakens to witness us, to judge us, and to mete out execution?

We swim, slowly now, not wanting to alarm the krakens, towards the lip of the cave.

There’s a heavy, shadowy movement in front of us, the wet sounds of tentacles pulling the massive bulk of one of the creatures forward, and from the darkness, two black slits of eyes appear.

The kraken looms over us, his eyes black lines surrounded by yellowy blue flesh, each eye bigger than me.

As if by instinct, the Aurelians swim in closer to me, until I am surrounded by a wall of marble, muscled strength. A tentacle slides into the water, and it forms a wide circle around us, but it does not close in to strangle us.

The maw of the kraken opens. Even my air-shield can’t stop the smell, salt and strange minerals, and rows of hundreds of sharp, bright teeth gleam. Gallien presses in closer to me, his bulk reassuring against me, tensing as if he is preparing to fight the monster unarmed if it dares to threaten me.

From deep within its cavernous mouth, four thin, glowing white tentacles, nearly transparent, slide forward, searching for us.

“Steady,” says Doman, his deep voice echoing in the cavern.

He is relaxed, somehow, treading water evenly.

He swims forward, until his huge biceps are on the lip of the pool’s edge, directly in front of the mouth of the kraken that could rip him in two.

The four glowing tentacles cast a strange light over his body.

It accentuates the ridges and valleys of his musculature, turning him into a living sculpture bathed in radiance.

A white tentacle rests precisely at the center of his forehead.

Then, the two slits of the kraken’s widen, in animal panic.

The kraken whimpers, a low, painful sound of fear, and the glowing tentacles whip back into its mouth, which closes.

The kraken escapes, huge tentacles writhing as the behemoth, in pure terror, pulls itself away from the Aurelian.

The cavern is filled with the groaning wet sounds of huge bulks moving, and then the krakens become eternally still, not wanting to move a muscle, which would betray their presence against the bioluminescent algae that is triggered by movement.

We are shrouded in pitch blackness.

“What did you see? What did it show you?” I whisper, but my voice is deafening, echoing in the silence.

“Nothing.”

His touch comes from the darkness, but it does not shock me, his fingers wrapping around mine as Gallien holds my other hand tight.

There’s a splash as Titus goes first, and then we’re underwater again, and I am pulled by their power kicks deeper into the darkness.

Despite the pitch-black, they navigate us to the cave’s entrance, and I breathe out a sigh of relief, feeling like a kid when I ran up from the dark cellar, the sensation of unseen things following me, the light of my home a welcome beacon.

The domes of the Etherion cities stretch out before us, dots of life in the endless blackness of the oceans, and it reminds me of planets hurtling through the abyss of space.

We swim to the air-field on the other side of the small building, which I think of as a gateway, and the three priestesses are watching for our return as we slide through the air-field, water dripping from us as we step inside.

Big, white towels are on a bench. We dry off, and the Aurelians place the rings back on their fingers before pulling the air-shields off.

I struggle with mine, and Doman helps me get it off, his fingers grazing against my naked skin as he pulls the sticky material from my neck and hands the shield back to the priestesses, who form them back into the air-shield.

The three aged women are watching us, and I see the threads of worry, but they do not ask us anything. The visions were sacred, in their eyes, and whatever we saw—or didn’t see—is ours and ours alone. Once we’re dry, we pull our clothes on and leave through the door.

Aeris is waiting for us on the other side. She is wringing her hands, nervousness painted on her face, which is too pale.

The words burst from her. “Please. They told you not to do the test, right? Please tell me you won’t use the Planet-Killers.

” I’ve seen her elegant and mysterious, sitting with great dignity in meetings, everyone waiting for her to grace us with words.

Now they come out of her in a flow, nervous and quick.

“They told us nothing.” Doman’s voice is gravel.

Aeris blinks twice, her nictating eyelids flicking. “What do you mean, nothing? Did the krakens ignore you? I… I was sure they would have placed their tendril and shared with you.”

“He did. And I saw nothing.”

Aeris’ face is ghostly. She breathes in, a huge, deep breath to try and calm herself, her barrel chest expanding massively like she is readying herself for an hour-long dive.

“That was the message, Prince Doman. Nothing. Please, listen to it.”

Doman steps forward. He stands before her, towering, the golden crown gleaming against his soaking wet hair.

“Do you think the Toad Kingdom shares your qualms? They’ve begun their own tests.

And unless we give them this warning, they will continue.

They will come to Pentaris, with ships that can turn your planet into nothing, and pull you all into the void.

Using the Planet-Killers is the only way to stop them.

The test will continue. There is no other path. ”

“You’re a Prince, Doman. You’re not a God.” Aeris has regained her composure, her face an icy mask.

“I am what I need to be, to end this war and keep you safe from forces you don’t understand. Move aside, Aeris of Etherion,” he orders, his voice cold, and she steps away from the float. Doman steps onto it and turns, extending his hand to me, pulling me on.

The float coasts through the city, back through the packed streets, but I feel the gazes of the Etherions in a new way.

The masses staring at me make me feel like an alien in a strange world.

We’re silent as we pass through the crowds, silent as we return to the vessel, and we sit looking out through the air-shield as we ascend through the abyss and into the clearer waters above.

Up and up we go, and I’m unsettled as we rise through the oceans.

I yearn for the rays of the sun on my body, for fresh air, far away from that dank cave.

As the sun’s light glows through the ocean surface, Doman turns to me.