As Gadeon descends within the transparent bubble surrounding him, his eyes slowly scan the world below. No matter how many times he has witnessed it, the sight still takes him aback.
Water flows naturally here — currents drift lazily through the streets, particles floating and spiralling exactly as they would back on Earth. And yet, despite this, gravity exists. Everyone is firmly anchored to the seabed, walking, standing, living as though the crushing weight of the ocean has simply agreed not to interfere. It is illogical. Supernatural. And somehow… normal here.
As he finally reaches his destination, the bubble descends and settles onto the seabed. With a soft, hollow pop, it bursts. Gadeon steps out into the city. His head swivels freely despite the pressure of the water, his neck turning easily as he looks around — curious, almost childlike, taking in the world around him. The movement isn't an issue, nor a struggle, thanks to the body training Gaedric has put him through.
And yet, out of everything Gadeon sees, what unsettles him the most — every single time — is this:
He is breathing.
The water presses against his skin, heavy and endless, flowing freely around him… and yet his lungs draw it in without resistance. No burning. No panic. No struggle.
It still doesn't make sense to him.
And perhaps that impossibility is what makes this place feel truly unreal.
As he makes his way to the dojo, he sees humanoid sea creatures move through the city alongside humans, their footsteps disturbing the sand beneath them before it settles once more. Turtle-like humanoids walk upright, thick shells fused to their backs like living shields, etched with coral and time. Shark-kin stride past with broad frames and sleek, grey-blue skin, their movements efficient and predatory even at rest. Nearly everyone wears variations of the same colour scheme: blues and whites. Some wear sleeveless gis like Gadeon's — practical, flexible, and tied with simple sashes. Others wear long robes that drift gently in the water, layered and ceremonial, their fabrics moving like slow waves. The style feels traditional, almost sacred, as if tied deeply to the culture of this place rather than fashion.
"Oi! Don't move!"
Gadeon's head turns instantly toward the voice.
In that direction, a huge crowd of kids — all around Gadeon's age — approaches him. They advance as a unit, eyes filled with scowls and glares, as if they've been waiting for the chance to do him harm.
Among them are humans like himself. Others, however, are altered and adapted. Some have gills lining their necks, gently opening and closing as they breathe. Others bear scales along their arms, cheeks, or spines, shimmering faintly in the filtered light. Reptilian humanoids walk among them, long tails swaying behind, eyes sharp and unblinking.
At the front of the group is the ringleader.
He stands at around five foot nine — extremely tall for his age — with a muscular, bulky build that immediately sets him apart. He isn't human like Gadeon, but a humanoid mantis shrimp. His forearms are thick and heavy, ending in powerful pincer-like hands, each finger sharp enough to pierce flesh.
His gi is worn intentionally loose, exposing his chest and upper body, clearly meant to show off his physique.
"Even if I don't move," Gadeon bites back, "you guys ain't gonna do shit."
Murmurs ripple through the crowd behind the ringleader, irritation rising — but he raises a single hand, silencing them.
"What are you doing on our turf?" he asks calmly.
"What turf?" Gadeon replies. "I'm on my way to the dojo. You should be asking your turf, what's it doing in my way?"
Veins bulge across the ringleader's face.
"If you don't answer my next question properly," he says, voice low and cold, "we'll beat the living hell out of you."
Gadeon begins to break into a sweat as he looks around and realises he's completely outnumbered. The glaring looks from the surrounding kids make it clear — they truly intend to harm him.
This is freaking embarrassing. You think I couldn't boot these kids around like footballs if it weren't for this body?! he thinks.
He slowly takes a step back.
The ringleader notices instantly.
"Beat him to almost death!" he commands.
The lackeys dash forward all at once.
Thinking fast, Gadeon digs his foot into the seabed and kicks upward with all his strength, flicking a huge spray of sand and mineral debris into the water. The cloud explodes outward, temporarily blinding several of them and forming a thick dust cloud between them.
However, the ringleader sees straight through it.
He drops into a stance, his body tightening as he inhales deeply. Ma-qi floods into his Chi-Lungs, rapidly processing and condensing. Dense water forms around him — thicker, darker shades of blue swirling like heavy cloth around his arms.
He thrusts his fists forward.
A powerful beam of compressed water rockets out, dispersing the dust cloud instantly, brushing it away as if it were nothing — and surging straight toward the fleeing Gadeon.
Shit!
I'm getting used to this underwater environment thanks to my training, but running here isn't easy — my body feels heavy!
Gadeon turns his head just in time to see the attack closing in.
Shit! Shit! I can't dodge this!
His heart pounds violently as panic grips him. He throws his arms up, pulling his guard tight in a desperate attempt to shield himself—
—and the attack barely misses him.
"You missed!" one of the ringleader's lackeys shouts in surprise.
"No, I didn't," the ringleader replies calmly, his expression confident.
From the way I aimed — especially with him moving that slowly — there's no way I missed, he thinks. But I saw the trajectory shift just before impact. Someone interfered.
Gadeon exhales sharply.
Luckily, I was able to dodge it…
He doesn't waste the moment.
"Practise your shit aim first — then come for me!" he shouts mockingly.
The taunt works.
Veins bulge on the ringleader's face as he snarls and surges forward in pursuit.
"Why am I the only one using Water Flexing?!" he roars. "The brat can't even Flex — finish him off!"
At his command, all the lackeys charge after Gadeon, closing in fast.
Hearing this, Gadeon spots a massive sea creature harnessed to a chariot-like frame. Without hesitation, he leaps onto it, grabbing hold as he takes control.
The vehicle surges upward, gliding smoothly between towering structures.
At the same time, the ringleader's lackeys begin using Water Flexing. Some reinforce their legs and bodies with rushing currents, dramatically increasing their speed and agility as they pursue him through the city. They weave between coral towers that rise from the ocean floor like skyscrapers, their massive structures twisting upward in spirals and jagged curves, glowing faintly from within as if alive.
SPOOOSH!
WOOSH!
THOOOSH!
The sounds of Water Flexing crack through the water as they unleash attacks through fluid martial motions. Several strikes miss, slamming into the coral towers instead. The impact sends fractures rippling through the living structures, chips of glowing coral scattering as the towers shudder under the force.
Some attacks come dangerously close to Gadeon — forcing him to dive sharply downward, then pull hard into tight turns. He cuts corners between domes and pod-like homes embedded into the seabed.
But he doesn't have mastery over the sea-creature chariot.
It clips into structures again and again, smashing through rounded windows and scraping along walls. Golden lantern lights flicker violently as the impacts disrupt power lines and supports, entire homes shaking in his wake.
"Split up! Don't let him get to the dojo!" the ringleader yells, staying relentlessly on Gadeon's tail.
Moments ago, the people of Thalassar were peacefully drifting through the currents.
Now chaos erupts.
The group of hoodlum kids crashes straight into the bustling markets stretched across open coral platforms. Vendors are sent tumbling as stalls are overturned. Alien foods scatter across the seabed — including the famous meat-fruits, grotesque fusions of flesh and fruit that pulse faintly with life.
Several are crushed beneath charging feet.
Their pulsing slows… then stops.
"Guys, let's just leave him. It shouldn't take this long to hunt someone who can't even use his Chi-Lungs," the ringleader says, frustration finally slipping into his voice.
Hearing that, Gadeon cracks a smile.
He turns his head slightly.
"What a waste on you guys. If you can't even take down someone who can't use their Chi-Lungs, what makes you—"
CRASSSHHHH!
The chariot disintegrates.
Wood-like fragments explode outward, scattering through the currents as the structure collapses in on itself. The harness snaps free, and the sea creature bolts away in a panic.
Gadeon's eyes widen in pure shock.
"Wh—what… just happened?"
"PWAHAHAHA!"
The ringleader bursts into laughter, nearly doubling over. "You frickin' idiot! You're so predictable! You get emotional the moment you think you're close to winning!"
Gadeon floats helplessly as the last remains of the chariot drift apart.
"You're ten years old. Of course you can't drive yet!" the ringleader continues, wiping tears from his eyes. "You just got lucky earlier. I knew the moment I purposely showed signs of weakness or defeat, you'd jump at the chance to mock me. You always do. You can never give your pride and ego a rest!"
He steps closer.
"And look how it cost you. I didn't even have to touch you. You crashed all on your own."
By now, Gadeon has sunk back down to the seabed.
He's surrounded.
No path to run. No escape.
The ringleader looms over him, smiling calmly as he prepares to finish it.
But Gadeon smiles back.
The ringleader's expression falters.
"Being down here is incredible," Gadeon says quietly. "I could never figure the science behind this."
"Huh?" the ringleader replies, confused.
SPLAT!
Every single lackey freezes.
Their jaws drop. Their faces drain of colour.
Gadeon has just spat a compressed bullet of saliva straight into the ringleader's face.