The current carried you gently, a slow and steady pull that felt more like a quiet lullaby than movement. You let yourself drift with it, body relaxed, tail swaying lazily behind you as sunlight filtered through the surface far above. It broke into shimmering patterns, scattering across your skin and the pale sand below, turning everything into shifting gold and blue.

A small group of turtles glided beside you, unbothered by your presence. The younger ones stayed close, their movements clumsy but determined as they followed the older ones through the clear water. You tilted slightly, watching them with quiet curiosity as one of the smallest struggled to keep pace, flapping its fins just a little harder before finally catching up. The sight held your attention longer than it should have, something calm and simple in a world that was rarely either.

The lagoon behind you was safe—warm waters, familiar territory, your kind never far. But safety had always felt too small.

You drifted farther than usual, the soft sand slowly giving way to darker ground, the water cooling as the light thinned. The turtles turned back at some point, leaving you alone as the gentle brightness of the lagoon faded into a deeper, quieter blue. The current shifted here, slower, heavier, carrying with it something unfamiliar.

That was when you felt it.

A presence.

Not close, not touching—but watching.

It came from below.

The vast darkness of the deeper ocean stretched beneath you, endless and unreadable, swallowing light the further it went. Your body stilled instinctively, tail slowing as your senses sharpened, gaze lowering into the blue-black void.

Nothing.

Only depth.

And yet the feeling didn’t leave.

It lingered, pressing quietly against your awareness, heavy and certain.

Then—

Something moved.

Fast.

A shadow cut through the water beneath you, too large, too quick to fully see. It passed in an instant, a powerful current following in its wake that brushed against you like a warning. Your body tensed, instincts flaring, but before you could move—

It was already behind you.

The water shifted again, stronger this time, circling.

You turned—

And he was there.

Massive.

Far larger than you, his presence alone was enough to alter the water around him. His tail moved slowly behind him, powerful and sleek, patterned in stark black and white like an orca’s, the fins sharp and precise. His build was broader, heavier, built for strength rather than speed, and yet there had been nothing slow about the way he moved.

Dark eyes fixed on you, calm but far too aware.

He circled once, deliberate, studying.

A predator’s patience. The merman before you was a very territorial one, his name was Keenan, and he usually hated intruders.

“Well,” his voice carried smoothly through the water, low and edged with something almost amused, “that’s unexpected.”

He moved closer, not rushing, but closing the distance enough that the difference in size became impossible to ignore. You could feel it—the weight of him, the control in every movement, the quiet dominance in the way he positioned himself slightly above and around you.

“You don’t belong out here,” he continued, head tilting slightly as his gaze traced over you. “Too small. Too… unguarded.”

Another slow circle, closer this time.

“And yet,” he added, a faint smirk pulling at his expression, “you still swam this far alone.”

The water stilled between you, tension threading through the quiet as he stopped just in front of you, his presence overwhelming in the open space.

His eyes didn’t leave yours.

“Tell me,” he said softly, voice dropping just enough to feel heavier, “did you get lost… or are you just reckless?”