The briefing room was cold.
Aurelion sat near the front, Gatekeeper across his knees. Ami was beside him, her arm freshly out of the sling, her face still pale but her eyes sharp. Corrin and Kael were in the row behind them, Kael checking his pistols, Corrin hunched over a stack of printed texts.
Valeris stood at the back of the room, her arms crossed, her sharp eyes watching everything. She didn't speak. She didn't need to.
Dr. Elara Chen stood at the front, a holographic display showing the underwater structure in detail. It was massive—a city of spires and pyramids, perfectly preserved, waiting beneath four thousand meters of water.
"This is the site," Chen said. "We've confirmed it's artificial. We've confirmed it's ancient. And we've confirmed that whatever is down there, it's been waiting for a very long time."
The logistics briefing took an hour.
Three submarines would make the descent. Each was reinforced, designed to withstand the crushing pressure of the deep. They would carry the expedition team in groups, synchronized to arrive at the city's perimeter simultaneously.
"The submarines will anchor at the edge of the city," Chen explained. "From there, you'll deploy in deep-sea diving suits. The suits are reinforced, mana-infused, and equipped with life support systems that will keep you alive for up to twelve hours."
Aurelion examined the schematic. The suits were sleek, compact, designed for mobility. They weren't the bulky antique diving suits from old Earth—these were hunter-grade equipment, capable of withstanding both the pressure and the cold.
"The suits have built-in comms and tracking," Chen continued. "If you run low on oxygen or need support, you can signal the submarines. They'll deploy additional tanks or provide emergency extraction if needed."
"And if the submarines can't reach us?" Rhea asked.
Chen's expression didn't change. "Then you're on your own. But that's what we're here to prevent."
The hunters were assigned to submarines.
Aurelion, Ami, Corrin, and Kael would go in Submarine One. Caelus, Rhea, and their teams would go in Submarine Two. Mira, Marcus, and the remaining hunters would go in Submarine Three.
"The submarines will maintain a staggered descent," Chen said. "This is to ensure that if one craft is compromised, the others can assist. The hunters onboard are expected to provide defense if necessary."
"Defense against what?" Marcus asked.
"Unknown. The energy readings are inconsistent. We've detected movement in the lower sections, but it's too deep for our instruments to identify."
Aurelion felt Gatekeeper pulse. The blade had been quiet since they left Central, but now it was stirring. It knew something was down there.
"Movement," he said. "What kind of movement?"
"Organic. Or mechanical. We can't tell." Chen met his eyes. "That's why you're here."
After the briefing, the hunters dispersed to their quarters.
Aurelion found Corrin in the mess hall, surrounded by his notes. The researcher's eyes were bloodshot, his coffee cold.
"You look like you haven't slept in days," Aurelion said.
"I haven't." Corrin didn't look up. "I've been trying to identify the symbols on the city. They match something in the Central archives—texts that were almost destroyed during the early invasions."
"Texts about what?"
Corrin finally looked up. "A kingdom. The texts call it the First Kingdom. They say it existed before any recorded history. Before the portals. Before demons. Before everything."
"And the city?"
"Part of it. A stronghold, maybe. Or a burial ground. The texts are fragmented. But they all mention one thing." He paused. "They mention a door."
Aurelion's blood went cold. "A door?"
"Not a physical door. A boundary. A threshold. Something that was never supposed to open." Corrin shook his head. "The texts are vague. But they all say the same thing—the First Kingdom was built to protect something. To keep it contained."
"What?"
"Darkness. A hunger. A force that would consume everything if it was released." Corrin leaned back. "That's all I could find. The rest was destroyed."
Aurelion touched Gatekeeper's hilt. The blade pulsed.
The gate, he thought. It's always the gate.
That night, Aurelion stood on the observation deck, watching the water.
The platform's lights reflected off the surface, creating a shifting landscape of silver and black. The waves whispered against the hull. The wind carried the scent of salt and something else—something older.
The gate.
In his past life—as Azrathor, the Demon King—the gate had been a problem, but a small one. Something ancient and forgotten, buried beneath the weight of centuries. When something had tried to come through, he had simply blasted it back into the void and sealed the breach. It had taken him a single battle. He hadn't thought about it again.
Now it was the center of everything.
Why?
What had changed?
Why was this world's gate so much stronger? So much more dangerous?
He had no answers. Only the growing certainty that something was very, very wrong.
Ami joined him after midnight.
"You should sleep," she said.
"So should you."
She leaned against the railing beside him. "Valeris is onboard. Did you notice?"
"She's everywhere."
"She's worried about you. About this mission."
"I didn't think Valeris worried."
Ami smiled. "She has her own ways."
They stood in silence, watching the waves.
"Corrin found something," Aurelion said. "About the city. About a door. He says it was built to contain something."
"And you think that something is still down there?"
He touched Gatekeeper's hilt. The blade pulsed.
"I think it's been waiting for us."
Dawn broke gray and cold.
The expedition team gathered on the platform's lower deck, where the three submarines waited. They were sleek, reinforced, their hulls gleaming under the floodlights. The deep-sea diving suits were arranged in racks nearby, ready to be donned.
Aurelion strapped Gatekeeper to his back and climbed into the submarine.
Ami followed. Corrin and Kael were already inside, checking their equipment. The cabin was cramped, but functional—seats, controls, a viewport that would soon be filled with darkness.
"All systems nominal," the pilot announced. "We're ready to descend."
Aurelion nodded. "Take us down."
The descent began.
The light faded quickly. The world outside became a deep, eternal blue, then black. The pressure groaned against the hull. The temperature dropped.
Aurelion sat in the front, Gatekeeper across his knees. The blade was pulsing now, steady and warm.
But he didn't just sit.
He closed his eyes. Reached inward.
The power was there.
30% of what he had once been. Still not enough. Never enough.
But he could feel the rest of it—the part of him that had been blocked, sealed, forgotten. The upper dantian shuddered every time he touched it. It was closer now than it had ever been.
I need more, he thought. I need to be ready for whatever's down there.
He pushed.
Slowly. Carefully. Not force—flow.
The upper dantian cracked.
Not opened. Not broken. Just... cracked.
Power leaked through—raw, ancient, hungry. It spread through his body like fire through dry grass. His veins burned. His heart stuttered. His skin flushed with heat.
32%. 34%. 36%.
He opened his eyes.
The cabin was the same. The others were still talking, still watching the darkness outside. No one had noticed.
But he felt different. Stronger. More.
Not enough, he thought. But closer.
Two hours in, the pilot announced, "We're making good time."
The current was pulling them. Aurelion felt it—the city's presence, a weight in the water, a call in the dark.
"It knows we're coming," he said.
The first impact was barely audible—a dull thud against the hull.
Aurelion tensed. "What was that?"
The pilot checked the sensors. "Unknown. Something bumped us. Probably debris."
"Debris doesn't bump twice."
A second thud. Harder this time. The submarine shuddered.
Kael was on his feet, pistols drawn. "We're not alone."
The viewport showed nothing but darkness. But something was out there—moving, circling, hunting.
A third impact. The hull groaned. A crack appeared in the reinforced glass.
"Something's trying to break through!" the pilot shouted.
Aurelion grabbed Gatekeeper. The blade flared crimson.
"Get us to the city!" Ami ordered.
"We can't—the pressure—"
"I said get us to the city!"
The lights outside the viewport flickered.
And then they saw them.
Shapes in the darkness. Streamlined, predatory, their bodies covered in glistening scales. Their eyes glowed with cold blue light. They moved through the water like shadows, like nightmares, like things that had never been meant to exist.
Demons.
Not the land-based ones they had fought before. These were different—evolved for the deep, their limbs webbed, their jaws filled with rows of needle-sharp teeth. They moved with the fluid grace of creatures born to the ocean.
And they were attacking the submarine.
Aurelion watched one of them slam against the hull, its claws scraping against the metal. Another joined it. Then another.
The crack in the viewport grew wider.
"They're going to break through!" Corrin shouted.
Aurelion raised Gatekeeper. The blade blazed with crimson light.
"How much longer until we reach the city?" he demanded.
"Fifteen minutes," the pilot said, his voice strained. "Maybe less."
"Then we hold."