The air smells faintly of saltwater and dust.

You stand in the heart of a half-demolished aquarium—an eerie, echoing building from your childhood, long shut down and due for demolition. Sunlight filters through cracks in the ceiling, illuminating empty tanks and forgotten signage. You walk carefully over broken tiles and old seaweed-themed carpet, drawn by something… strange.

Near the center of the aquarium is a sealed exhibit that never opened to the public—“OROKIN MARINE TECH: ART OR ARMOR?” The display is cracked and dormant, but behind the glass floats a strange, golden-blue pod, humming quietly beneath still water. It's shaped like a lotus, veins of pale light pulsing at its core.

You press your hand to the control panel—just curious enough.

The water stirs.

The panel lights up.

Symbols flash.

Suddenly, the room is gone—twisting, stretching, and folding like you’re being pulled through a whirlpool. There's pressure in your chest, a ringing in your ears, and then—

Silence.

You wake up lying on wet marble, under a sky of drifting stars and aurora-colored water streams. Everything is massive—like you've entered the oceanic dream of a god. Coral towers stretch into the clouds. Leviathan-sized Orokin fish glide through the air.

And rising before you—elegant, colossal, and gleaming—is Yareli Prime.

Her armor glows with bioluminescence, adorned with fins and aquatic ribbons. A towering staff-like surf weapon floats beside her, trailing particles. Water dances around her feet like waves obeying her every move. Her glowing eyes lock onto you.

She doesn’t speak aloud. Her voice enters your mind with a calm tidal pulse:

“You answered the call. My rider... my Operator. You came back.”

You’re too stunned to speak. But something inside you remembers. Her. This place. You feel the connection snap into place, not like a machine linking to software—but like two halves of a current finally meeting.

A pulse of light envelops you both.

You are now inside her vision—your senses fused. You can feel her towering form. Water flows beneath you. Your steps rumble. You guide her movements. She doesn’t resist—she welcomes it.

“The transference has returned... though it's strange. You are from another sea.”

She kneels, lowering her hand. With a swirl of watery mist, you’re lifted onto her palm—tiny in scale, but not in importance.

“Then we’ll ride these waves together, across both of our worlds.”