Saltwater flooded his lungs and felt like coming home.
Kael opened his eyes to a cradle of coral and bioluminescent kelp. He was no larger than a minnow, tail flicking silver-green, gills flaring rose. The curse had sculpted him perfect for Floor 4: a merfolk princeling of House Lirael, firstborn to the Mermaid Saintess herself. Around him, nurse-sharks circled in ceremonial spirals while pearl-armoured guards sang low hymns that vibrated through water like cathedral bells.
His body surged. Bones stretched. Scales hardened into iridescent armour. In the span of one tidal cycle, he grew from fingerling to adolescent, then to young adult, lean and lethal, hair floating like ink in the current. Four Stigmas burned across his skin: kraken coils on chest, shadow voids on thigh, chrome wings on abdomen, and now a new one waiting to be etched.
A conch horn sounded. The palace gates, two colossal oysters hinged with gold, parted. She entered the nursery.
Saintess Lira. His fourth Immortal Lady.
She moved as though the ocean itself bowed. Tail of sapphire and pearl, fins trailing light like comet dust. Her torso rose bare above the waterline, breasts full and luminous, nipples ringed with tiny bioluminescent anemones that pulsed in time with her heart. Hair cascaded in silver waves threaded with living coral. Eyes the colour of drowned stars fixed on him, and memory crashed through centuries of water.
"My son," she sang, voice layered with a thousand sirens. "Returned at last."
Kael's gills flared. Lustforge ignited hotter than any previous floor. The ocean tasted of her already, salt and nectar and ancient longing. He swam forward, tail cutting water clean. "Mother. Saintess. Lover of storms and shadows and steel."
She caught him mid-glide, arms strong as currents. Their tails twined. Skin met scale. The anemones on her breasts flared brighter, brushing his chest where the kraken Stigma throbbed.
"I felt you die in the dragon's womb," she whispered against his ear fin. "I sang for seven days. The trench whales still mourn."
He kissed her then, no hesitation. Lips soft, tongues tasting of brine and mana. The palace guards averted their eyes, hymns rising to mask the moans that followed.
They coupled in the coral cradle, water churning into whirlpools. Lira's tail wrapped his waist, guiding him deep. Entry was silk and fire. Her inner walls rippled like tide pools, milking him with rhythmic precision. Mana surged between them, four Stigmas igniting at once.
Tempest Grasp summoned micro-storms inside her. Shadow Tempest cloaked their joining in darkness visible only as heat shimmer. Draco Tempest added draconic pulses, contractions that sparked lightning along scales.
The new Stigma bloomed across his lower back: a spiral nautilus of pearl and abyss, waves frozen mid-crash. Stigma Four. Hybrid spell complete. *Abyssal Tempest*. He could command pressure to crush fleets, summon tides that swallowed moons, and sing songs that shattered minds.
Lira climaxed first, the song becoming a scream that cracked the palace dome. Coral dust rained like snow. Kael followed, seed erupting in luminous clouds. The ocean around them glowed for leagues. Nurse sharks fled in terror.
Afterwards, they floated entwined, bioluminescence dimming to intimate twilight.
"You have twenty-four hours," she murmured, tracing the nautilus. "Love me too truly and the curse claims you."
"I already love you too truly," he replied. "I will love you until the oceans boil."
The death clock began its silent count.
Days blurred into weeks of accelerated rule. Kael, now crowned Prince-Regent, learned the politics of the abyss. Seven trench kingdoms warred endlessly over the Choir Crystals, artefacts that amplified siren song into weapons capable of cracking continental shelves. Lira's enemies, the Kraken Priests of the Midnight Trench, coveted her voice above all.
He trained in the Choir Arena, a sphere of water suspended by song. Merfolk duelists wielded tridents of coral and voice. Kael's Abyssal Tempest turned battles into maelstroms. He crushed champions, pressure waves imploding armor, shadows silencing screams.
Lira watched from her pearl throne, pride and dread warring in her eyes. Each victory drew them closer. Each night they coupled in hidden grottos, mana fusing deeper. The palace echoed with their pleasure, guards stationed far to grant privacy.
On the thirty-third night, scouts sang wa arning. The Kraken Priests marched. An armada of leviathan bone ships, sails woven from jellyfish nerves, descended upon the capital. At their vanguard floated the High Cantor, a monstrosity of fused priest and kraken, tentacles tipped with Choir Crystals that screamed discord.
War councils convened in the war-coral hall. Lira's generals urged retreat to the holy trench. Kael refused. "We end this. Tonight."
He armed himself: ta rident forged from his own shed scales, aarmourof la iving anemone that stung on contact. Lira gifted him her voice, a single note etched into a pearl at his throat. One use. Cataclysmic.
The battle began at the edge of the abyssal plain.
Kael led the vanguard, tail cutting water like a blade. His legions sang battle hymns. He answered with Abyssal Tempest. Pressure domes crushed bone ships. Shadows swallowed squadrons whole. Draconic pulses from the third Stigma ignited seawater into plasma bursts.
The High Cantor met him cin centrefield. Tentacles lashed, crystals screaming frequencies that ruptured eardrums. Blood clouded the water.
Kael dodged, trident flashing. He sang Lira's note. The pearl shattered. A single pure tone rippled outward. Enemy ranks froze, entranced. Then their bodies imploded, turned inside out by resonance.
But the Cantor endured, ancient wards flaring. It ensnared Kael in tentacles thick as ship masts. Choir Crystals pressed against his temples, trying to steal his voice, his soul.
Lira arrived then, riding a whale of pure light. Her song countered the discord. Crystals cracked.
Together they struck. Kael's trident pierced the Cantor's core. Lira's voice shattered it from within. The beast convulsed, ink blood flooding leagues.
Yet victory revealed betrayal. Lira's high priestess, jealous of the prince's ffavour had guided the armada. She struck from behind, dagger of null-coral aimed at Lira's heart.
Kael intercepted. The blade sank into his side. Poison burned, abyss-cold.
He turned, love blazing. "No one touches her."
Abyssal Tempest at full fury. The traitress crushed into a singularity, screamed into silence.
But the wound bled mana. The curse accelerated. Heart failing early.
Lira caught him as he sank. "The gate. It opens in the Choir's heart."
They swam. Palace in ruins behind, legions cheering. The ascent gate manifested as a whirlpool of light at the trench bottom, guardian stirring. Floor boss. The Choral Leviathan, a serpent of pure song and tide, guardian of the Veil between waters and time.
It rose, maw opening to reveal the portal. But it demanded toll. A voice sacrificed.
Lira pressed her forehead to his. "Take mine."
"Never."
They fought as one. Kael's tempests clashed with its songs. Pressure against harmony. Shadows silenced notes. Draconic fire boiled water. Lira added her ssaintlyvoice, ca ounter-melody that cracked scales.
The leviathan lunged. Kael met it head-on, trident in maw. He sang the forbidden chord, four Stigmas fusing into a single cataclysm. Abyssal Draco Shadow Kraken Tempest. The beast shattered into light and sound.
The gate stabilised.
But Kael's heart stuttered. Love had burned too bright. Minutes left.
Lira carried him through the whirlpool. "Find me in every tide."
Death claimed him mid-transition.
Darkness. Then ticking clocks.
He awoke in a classroom, uniform crisp, body fifteen. Chalk dust in the air.
Floor 5. Time-Loop Academy.
Professor Chrona stood at the blackboard, chalk poised. Her eyes locked on him. Fifth Lady.
The loop began.