The ocean spread endlessly around him.
It lapped against his skin, warm and loyal, as though every wave remembered his cock's thrust and moaned with gratitude. The once-silent desert had become an eternal sea, and every ripple sang his name.
But even as the ocean bent to him, a new sound arose.
Not moans. Not water.
Whispers.
They slithered from beneath the waves, threading through the foam. They crawled into his ears, wet and sticky, like tongues pressing into them. They weren't the shard's Guardians, nor were they echoes of broken sands. These voices were older, hidden, dripping with malice and lust.
"Warmth… father of floods…"
The whispers licked across his mind.
"Do you dare to enter me?"
Kaito's gaze shifted. Beyond the horizon of the newborn ocean, a rift tore open. No longer desert, no longer water—just a jagged tear in reality, dripping black liquid like the Void Egg itself was drooling.
