The sea went still.
Around the Gatekeeper's core, the water ceased to behave like water at all. No swells rolled through the funnel anymore. No crosscurrents scraped at the hull. Even the wind seemed to hesitate, sails hanging in a tense, unnatural equilibrium as if the world itself had been told to wait.
At the center of it all, the pressure condensed.
The Gatekeeper gathered itself.
Noel felt the shift immediately. The pattern beneath the surface tightened, layers of mass folding inward with methodical precision. Where before the creature had denied space, tested reactions, recalibrated boundaries—now it was drawing everything back to a single point.
"It's done judging," Noel said quietly.
Lightning crawled along Revenant Fang, not wild this time, but restrained—compressed until it hummed with sharp, dangerous focus. Shadow clung to the blade's edge like a second outline, heavier than before.
