Once Again, Lucian found himself swallowed by darkness; again, he was in its familiar embrace. But this time, it didn't feel cold or suffocating, It was warm… fluid. His body felt weightless, suspended as if cradled in an endless sea. Breathing came easily.

  ‘Wait, I’m in drowing again.’ flowed in his mind.

  Then, a gentle tug, like a current beneath his skin, began to pull him upward. With a soundless gasp, Lucian burst through the surface of the dark abyss—and emerged into light.

  He hovered in the open sky, suspended between two worlds. Above him, vast, silver clouds drifted lazily across an endless cerulean dome. Below, a still, shimmering unending ocean that reflects the heavens above like a polished mirror. Sunlight poured across this place bathing everything in its glow.

  Lucian floated effortlessly in it all, surrounded by silence and serenity. Then suddenly as if on que.

  Rising from the water below were colossal pillars that looked both dated and awe-inspiring. Each was carved from stone that shimmered in the sun's radiance. They reached for the sky like the fingers of a colossal

  god, their tops vanishing into the clouds. They were many, arranged in a wide circle, that gave the illusion of a massive cage.

  Then, the world spun gently on its axis. Lucian was no longer in the sky.

  He now found himself lying upon the surface of the ocean itself—except the water did not ripple beneath him. It held him aloft, soft and bouncy, like resting upon silk. He sat up and could see the pillars fully for the first time.

  Each one was carved with images, aged but masterful. Symbols and murals. He rose to his feet—the water beneath resisted his weight.

  It was like a dream. But it was also real.

  Drawn by curiosity, Lucian walked across the water toward the nearest pillar. Each step made the surface ripple with color,blue,green,yellow…..a beautiful array as if the ocean responded to his presence. As he reached the massive stone column, he tilted his head up to study the engraving carved into its face.

  It depicted a woman tall, graceful, and fierce, bound in chains of light. She knelt inside a cage, her face calm despite the burden. Above her stood other towering figures, robed and faceless, their hands raised in silent judgment.

  The sight of the other figures made Lucian angry for some reason.

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  He lifted his hand and gently pressed his hand against the pillar. The stone was warm at first, almost comforting. But that comfort quickly twisted into something far more sinister. Heat surged beneath his palm, intensifying with every passing second.

  His eyes widened. ‘Hot... Too hot!’

  He jerked his arm, trying to pull away, but it was too late. His hands were stuck—fused to the surface of the pillar as if it had claimed him. A searing pain shot through his flesh, the burning sensation crawling up his arms like a parasite. The skin sizzled, smoke curling into the air. He grit his teeth, a muffled growl escaping his lips.

  “Move... damn it, MOVE!”

  He placed his leg on the pillar as an anchor, Lucian,yanked, twisted, even tried to claw at the stone, but it held him fast—unyielding, merciless. The pain deepened. Still, he refused to scream.

  “Enough!”

  A voice, clear and commanding, echoed through the vast expanse like the sound of thunder signaling the coming downpour. It wasn’t loud—yet it held authority.

  The pillar released Lucian instantly.

  He stumbled back almost in a panic while giving the pillar the stink eye. The pillar as if it had done nothing returned to normal yet Lucian's palm print remained.

  Lucian regained his composure, slowly turning toward the source of the voice. And then he saw her.

  She sat upon a throne suspended in midair. Carved not of marble or wood, but a throne of scales and gold, that looked like a great serpent had coiled itself into a regal seat. The throne sparkled, its red velvet cushion plush and inviting.

  Upon it, legs crossed with casual authority, sat a woman, her skin gleaming like burnished brass, each inch of it aglow with inner fire. Wild crimson hair cascaded from her head in untamed waves, flowing down to the surface of the water, where the strands stirred and curled like dancing flame. Her eyes, two molten orbs, did not flicker—only stared, steady and piercing, as if she could see through his innermost.

  She wore elegant golden armor, ornate and trimmed in deep red ribbons about. The chestplate bore the emblem of a coiled serpent that devoured its own tail. The armor was not ornamental. It was made to kill. Made to reign.

  She didn’t need to move. She didn’t need to speak again. She was a queen yet something older. A force of nature shaped into the form of a woman. The kind of presence that made empires kneel and oceans tremble.

  Her expression wasn’t angry. Nor was she kind. But was unreadable—placid and unmoved, like the moment before a storm.

  Lucian instinctively reached for the broken hilt at his side before realizing he had no weapon. No armor. Nothing but his will. His legs tensed. His spine straightened. There was nowhere to run if she was an enemy, he had faced death. He had died. And he had clawed his way back.

  Whatever and whoever she is—whatever this place was—he would face it as he always has.

  He took a step forward.

  Then—pressure.

  Crushing. Immeasurable. It struck him like an invisible wave, bending him instantly to his knees, then further, until his palms were pressed into the watery surface. His back arched under the weight, muscles straining as his breath escaped him. It wasn’t magic. It wasn’t brute force.

  It was her presence.

  Nothing he had faced before could have prepared him for this moment, not even death itself. This—this woman—made him feel small,a speck,and insignificant blemish on her shadow.

  But still, he did not break. Even as his body trembled and bent under the strain, Lucian raised his head slowly. His neck shook with effort. Blood dripped from his nose. But his eyes—those golden eyes—remained locked on hers. Steadfast. Glaring.

  A challenge without words. A refusal to bow to anyone or anything.

  The woman's lips quirked—barely, the glimmer of a smile, or perhaps a recognition of defiance.

  In that instance the pressure lifted.

  Lucian collapsed sideways, coughing violently as the invisible weight vanished. His entire body was soaked in sweat, yet he managed to drag the air back into his lungs in desperate gulps,trembling… but still, he did not look away.

  The woman spoke again, her voice now softer. Still distant, yet somehow comforting.

  “Cursed child… You do not kneel easily, I see.”

  Lucian, still catching his breath, forced out a hoarse reply.

  “Then stop trying to make me.”

  Another flicker of amusement touched her eyes.

  The serpent on her chestplate shimmered, as though it too were alive.

  “Good, the world is already full of spineless cowards who kneel. Rise, Lucian, for the debt of your forefathers must be repaid.”