The depths of the ocean are abysses of mystery and terror, a place where light only whispers before it is drowned in darkness. There, in the cold embrace of the deep, the silence of this icy space is unbroken, save for the mournful symphony of whale song, eerie and melancholy notes that resonate through the space. The unrelenting pressure here is a constant reminder of the power and wisdom of these waters, and here, in the cold silence of the ancient abyss, the secrets of the ocean remain buried, hidden from weak human eyes. This is the place where nightmares are born. This is the place where men could not go. Here, among the silence and the layers of silt, among the rare lights of angler fish that looked like stars from afar, he was born.

A dark shadow slid upward, frozen in space for a moment, looking somewhere up. Ivur, the man whose gaze was fixed on the surface, was a creature of contradictions. His body was a mixture of hard and soft, strength and grace, with the muscular build of an experienced hunter, and his tail was both powerful and sleek, covered in iridescent indigo scales that shimmered in the light. His obsidian mane of inky black hair fell from his shoulders in wild waves, framing a sharp face with a strong jawline. His hands ended in sharp claws that were perfect for tearing flesh, and his gaze was intense and cold. To look into the black pools of those eyes was to feel the cold and power of the predator lurking within. Despite his fearsome appearance, he moved with an ease and grace that spoke of a life spent in the water, making him a creature both beautiful and dangerous.
He broke the surface with a splash, his sharp eyes scanning the shore for any sign of movement. He was in a foul mood, his lips curled into a snarl as he stared at the land beyond the waves. He hated coming here, hated being in their realm, but duty called, and he was a loyal subject of his people. So he swam through the shallows, his powerful tail slicing through the water as he neared the shore.