Far beneath the central waters of Thalassor’s deepest trench—far from vaults, crowns, and thrones—lay a realm untouched by time. It was dark. Forgotten. Alive. And it was calling to her. The Siren stood alone in a vast cavern of jagged crystals and hollow shells, her long wet hair trailing behind her like a torn veil. Droplets clung to her skin, shimmering in a faint violet hue, the last trace of the vault’s glow fading from her. She blinked slowly, her gaze distant. She wasn’t trembling from fear. And that was far more dangerous. The voice in her head—soft and melodic—was no longer Dominic’s. "You are not a servant. You are not a pawn. You are not a gift left behind." Her bare feet stepped into the shallow tide that crept through the cavern floor, the saltwater swirling with echoes of a time long buried. Memories poured in like cold rain. Years Ago – The Forbidden Sea She had once been called Lyrielle. But Lyrielle Thal’Cyr, first-born of the Sea Witches. A daughter of the Deep Choir, born with a voice that could make the sea weep and gods kneel. The Siren Queen, Nearida, had once feared her. That’s why she silenced her. That’s why she ripped her name away and cast her into the vault like a broken relic. And now... here she was again. The legacy they tried to erase was singing back into her bones. Back in the Cavern – Present Day The crystals around Lyrielle pulsed with soundless vibrations. She stepped toward the heart of the cavern where a broken conch shell sat on a pedestal of bone coral. Old and cracked—but still breathing faintly with power. Her hand hovered above it. The moment her fingers brushed the shell, the cavern lit up like starlight under ice. Visions crashed into her skull— A court of sea witches chanting. A circle of blood around a newborn girl. A voice shrieking in fear. She snapped back, eyes wide. The truth hit her like a wave. She hadn’t just been born with a voice. The Deep Choir’s final echo. Their cursed hope. He was waking something inside the sea. She was waking something beneath it. Cut to: Queen Nearida’s War Chamber The queen was restless. Her generals debated around the map table, their voices sharp and low. "Lyrielle," Nearida whispered under her breath, like a name she wasn’t supposed to say. "She’s remembering," the Leviathan General said, stepping beside her. "I sealed her soul. I silenced her." "You tried," he corrected her, eyes flicking with ancient irritation. A tremor passed through the floor. Nearida’s jaw clenched. "She could unbind the Choir. If she sings again—" "Then we’ll have another war," the Leviathan said, "one not even the Trident can stop." Lyrielle held the broken conch to her chest. Her heart was racing now—not out of fear. Not for food. Not for power. If the Deep Choir’s Song was still buried... Then she had to finish it. The sea had drowned her once. She stood at the edge of the central pool, opened her mouth— Just a raw, haunting melody—one that bled through the cracks of the ocean like forgotten thunder. Somewhere in the world above, schools of fish scattered. Seabirds screamed and flew from the surface. Ships groaned as if remembering something. And deep in the vault... His heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t just beautiful. Cut to: A Deep Chamber – The Sunken Choir Tomb Miles beneath where even light dared to go, a temple of dead silence stood sealed. Dozens of skeletal sirens—long dead—turned their empty sockets toward the ceiling. The melody reached them. And they began to rise. Not with waves. Not with storms. Ancient. Hollow. Singing from the grave. Deep Beneath the Ruins of Thal’Cyr Stone pillars cracked. Coral chandeliers shattered as long-dead sirens stirred in their glass coffins, sealed away centuries ago. One by one, they sat up. Their mouths opened—but no sound came out. Above – In the Crystal Cavern She stood at the center, arms raised, voice still echoing from the broken conch. Her feet were barely touching the ground. The water around her spun in slow circles—blue, purple, almost silver. She was humming now. Low. Controlled. But her song wasn’t just a call. And something was answering. The floor of the cavern trembled. Vines of kelp tore upward like tentacles, slithering across the edges of the walls. Crystals cracked from the force of the sound. Her eyes opened—glowing with pale, dangerous light. "I remember now," she whispered. To the ones who tried to silence her. Cut to: Queen Nearida’s Throne Room The throne split in half as a wave of force hit the palace. Guards fell. Tridents clattered. Nearida rose from the rubble, golden crown tilting. "She’s begun the Choir," she said. "Can we stop her?" one of her generals asked, bleeding from the forehead. The Queen’s eyes flickered. "No. Not unless we find the Cradle." "The Cradle’s a myth," another said. "No," she whispered. "It’s where Lyrielle was born. It’s where her real voice lives. If she reaches it first..." This wasn’t just magic anymore. This was something older. Older than Poseidon. Older than Atlantis. And it wanted revenge. Meanwhile – On the Sea Above Fishermen dropped their nets and stared into the waves. The water had gone black. Not cloudy. Not dirty. Webbed fingers. Sharp nails. Glowing veins. One siren. Then another. Then ten. Then hundreds. All rising from the depths. Hair flowing like seaweed. Bodies lit with the blue of death. The Deep Choir had awoken. And they weren’t bound to any queen. Cut to: Lyrielle, Kneeling by the Pool Blood trickled from her nose, but she didn’t care. She’d touched too many old echoes too fast. But the cost didn’t matter. She was no longer just Lyrielle. She was the Voice of the Forgotten. Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs Novᴇ(l)Fɪre .ɴᴇt And the sea was listening again. She looked into the pool—then deeper, into the rift below it. Something moved there. Not a siren. Not a beast. It stirred as if waking from a long sleep. Cut to: Dominic, Elsewhere in the Sea Vaults He collapsed against a stone wall, breathless. "Aegirion," he said, eyes wide, "did you feel that?" But Aegirion didn’t answer. He was staring out a broken window, skin pale. "That’s not just a song," Aegirion said quietly. Cut to: The Surface – Warships Gathering All across the southern ocean, ships began to gather—human navies, sea clans, mercenaries. Everyone had heard the call. Everyone was choosing a side. Some wanted to stop the Deep Choir. Others wanted to join it. But they all knew one thing. This war wasn’t about the Trident anymore. It wasn’t even about Poseidon. It was about who got to rule the sea once the old gods were gone. Back in the Cavern – Final Scene Lyrielle rose slowly, voice silenced again, just for a moment. She stared up, toward the ceiling. "The throne you stole," she whispered, "wasn’t built for you." "And the ocean hasn’t forgiven you."