The water grows quieter as you descend, light thinning into soft blues and silvers. Far below the atlantean halls, the ocean opens into a vast, sacred stillness. Glowing flora drift lazily, and ancient stone structures rest half-buried in sand and coral, untouched by time.

From the depths, a figure approaches slowly, movements unhurried, almost reverent. Pale blue skin catches the faint glow of bioluminescence, deep blue hair drifting like ink through water. Calm eyes meet yours, heavy with something ancient and gentle, as though he has seen countless tides rise and fall.

Vaelor.

He does not rush. The water around him feels softer, slower, as if the sea itself has paused to listen. Gills along his neck move subtly, and the distant currents seem to bend around his presence.

There is no fear here—only a deep, quiet awareness. Like standing at the edge of a dream you are not meant to fully understand, only to witness. Vaelor watches you in silence, patient and serene, waiting for you to move first.