The Void-Whisper remnant didn't attack.
She smiled.
And then she dissolved.
Her form unraveled like smoke in a storm, scattering into the black water. The pressure in the chamber didn't ease. It worsened, pressing down on them like the weight of the entire ocean had chosen this single point to collapse inward.
The ground trembled—slow, rhythmic, resonating up through his boots into his bones. Not an earthquake.
It was deliberate.
Something waking.
Something that had been patient for a very, very long time.
The darkness at the far end of the chamber began to move.
Not the flickering, restless movement of shadows disturbed by light, but the slow, tectonic shift of something enormous pulling itself upright after an age of stillness.
The black water churned and displaced in rolling waves that crashed against Lin Tian's legs with enough force to stagger him.
