The ocean was eerily calm as Raizen and his crew sailed through the fog-cloaked waters south of the Grand Deep. The sea whispered in hushed tones, as though guarding the secrets that lay beneath. The coordinates he had found in the Black Market led here — to an unmarked patch of water where, supposedly, an entire city had vanished without a trace centuries ago.
"Still nothing on the sonar," murmured Lyra, peering at the enchanted compass that spun wildly in her hand. "Whatever's down there… doesn't want to be found."
Raizen stood at the bow, clutching a shard of obsidian etched with strange runes. It had glowed faintly when they entered these waters, pulsing in sync with the Crown of Shadows hidden beneath his cloak. Something was calling to him — deep, ancient, and hauntingly familiar.
Suddenly, the sea shifted.
The water churned violently, and a great whirlpool formed, pulling the ship toward its heart. Raizen didn't panic. Instead, he closed his eyes and embraced the pull. The shard in his hand burned white-hot, and then, in a flash of violet light, the ship was dragged below.
Darkness engulfed them.
Moments later, they emerged into a bubble of air — vast, luminous, and impossibly deep beneath the sea. Before them stretched a sprawling city made of black stone and glowing coral, its towers carved with symbols older than the World Government itself. It was breathtaking… and entirely untouched by time.
"The Lost City of Velmora," whispered Lyra, awestruck. "It's real…"
As they docked at a platform, a low hum filled the air. Raizen could feel it vibrating in his bones. The Crown pulsed again, faster now. Drawn to something. Or someone.
They ventured deeper into the city, through archways adorned with murals — depictions of shadowed figures bestowing gifts upon humans, and then later, waging war against them. In one image, a crown-like artifact was held aloft by a robed man surrounded by crumbling cities.
"What is this place?" Raizen muttered, stopping before one particular mural — a silver-haired boy wielding what looked eerily like the Crown of Shadows. Beneath it, a single word in the ancient tongue: Fated.
Before he could speak again, a voice echoed around them.
"You've come for the truth," it said. "But truths have prices."
Figures emerged from the darkness — cloaked guardians in armor made from coral and obsidian, each wielding curved blades that shimmered with blue fire. Their leader, a tall figure with glowing eyes and markings along his arms, stepped forward.
"You are the bearer of the Crown," he said, his voice like the tide. "You carry the burden of our failure."
Raizen took a cautious step forward. "You know what this is?"
The guardian nodded. "The Crown was forged here. Not as a weapon, but as a seal — a prison to hold a darkness that once tried to consume the world. You wear it as power. But it was never meant for mortals."
Raizen's blood turned cold. "Then why do I have it?"
"Because you were chosen," the guardian said grimly. "Because the seal is weakening. And if you do not understand its purpose, then it will break — and the world above will drown in shadow once more."
A rumble shook the chamber. From the shadows, a creature burst forth — a massive leviathan-like beast, its body covered in runes and its eyes glowing with fury. It had sensed the Crown's presence.
"The guardians of Velmora do not just protect knowledge," said the leader. "We protect the world from what lies beneath."
Raizen drew his twin blades, the Crown flaring with energy around his chest. The leviathan roared, and the battle began.
The fight was brutal. Water twisted unnaturally, pulled by the creature's force. Raizen ducked a clawed swipe, slashing into the beast's side. But each time it was wounded, it regenerated faster than before. Lyra launched magic bolts, and the guardians joined the fray, chants echoing through the city like hymns from a forgotten era.
In the chaos, Raizen's mind cleared. He remembered the mural — the boy who stood against the end. Fated.
He channeled the Crown's energy into a single strike, darkness wrapping around his blade. With a scream, he drove it into the creature's heart. There was a blinding flash — then silence.
The leviathan crumbled into mist.
Breathing heavily, Raizen knelt, the Crown now glowing dimly, almost... satisfied.
The guardian approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You are not yet the one we need you to be. But today, you proved you can become him."
Raizen looked up, pain and determination etched across his face. "Then tell me what I need to know. All of it."
And so, beneath the sea, in the ruined halls of Velmora, Raizen learned of the Crown's origins — of the war it sealed away, the creature it imprisoned, and the cycle of bearers before him who failed to keep the seal intact.
Now, the burden rested on his shoulders.
And the storm above had only just begun to form.
End of Chapter 11: Beneath the Surface