Though I'm at the deepest part of the ocean, I can always hear the breeze.
I've long lost count of the days—or centuries—that passed. I believed I had vanished from existence, drifting in the quiet void of the abyss. What kept me alive? Why couldn't I simply die?
I couldn't even open my eyes.
And yet, I felt at ease here. Peaceful. Silent.
I didn't regret what I did. Even if the same situation happened again, I'd do it all over without hesitation.
But then—I heard something. A faint sound. Distant… above me?
On the surface.
"Hey Salah, nice weather today. I heard Mark caught a boatload of fish yesterday. Is that why you're out here?" Tex asked casually.
Everyone in town knew Tex—known as Tex the Gossiper. He loved spreading stories, whether they were good, bad, or completely made up. But despite his loose lips, Salah trusted him. After all, Tex wasn't just a talker—he could control the wind.
Salah had heard rumors that Mark hauled in rare seafood yesterday—fish, shrimp, even a couple of golden crabs. The rich merchants from the capital had paid handsomely.
And Salah needed that money.
His wife had fallen ill, and the medicine she needed was outrageously expensive. He didn't have the luxury of time. He needed luck. He needed a miracle.
He cast his net into the sea. It sank beneath the waves, disappearing into the unknown.
Hours passed.
When he finally pulled it back up—empty.
He sighed, lips pressed tightly. Turning to Tex, his voice was heavy. "There's nothing. Let's head east."
Tex frowned and glanced toward the horizon. The sky in the east was darker than usual, thick clouds curling at the edges. "I don't like the look of that sky, Salah."
"Just this once, Tex," Salah pleaded. "With your wind, we'll be fine. Five minutes. If nothing turns up, we leave. Please. I can't go home with nothing."
Tex hesitated. He knew Salah's situation. With a reluctant nod, he raised his hands to the wind. "Alright. But if I sense anything wrong—we leave. No arguments."
With Tex's wind guiding them, Salah started the engine and steered the boat toward the east.
An hour later, they cut the engine. The sky had grown dim, unnaturally so. Even the moon peeking through the clouds seemed nervous.
"That's strange… It's too dark," Salah muttered, looking upward.
Tex shivered. "Salah, let's make this quick. I've got a bad feeling."
"Yeah, yeah, quick." Salah tossed the net again. It disappeared beneath the black water.
Below. Deep beneath.
The sound was clearer now. Two voices… humans.
Why are they here? In my ocean?
Then, my body trembled. Light shimmered around me—golden, blue, like dancing stars.
I… I could move?
What?
Hold on. Hold on. HOLD ON!
Wait—am I being reborn?!
This can't be. No, no—what kind of reincarnation is this?
I'm not a child. I'm not a spirit. I'm…
An egg?
Suddenly, everything around me shook violently. A low hum echoed from the sea floor. The water swirled, and the glowing shell that contained me began to rise—slowly but surely—toward the surface.
Up above.
Tex staggered. "Salah! Something's wrong—the sea's moving weird!"
The boat rocked violently. The water beneath them began to bubble—something huge was rising.
Salah's eyes widened. "What is that—?!"
Then, in one flash of light, the net erupted from the sea—no fish, no crab… but something else entirely tangled in its ropes.
A smooth, pulsing egg—larger than a man's chest—glowing faintly with symbols neither of them recognized.
And it was warm.
Alive.
Tex stepped back. "What the hell is that?!"
Salah just stared, his voice barely a whisper.
"…I think we found something far more valuable than fish."