POV 1: Dyug – Underground Facility, Andaman and Nicobar Islands

Silence greeted him first—not the absence of noise, but the kind of heavy quiet that pressed against the skin. Slowly, breath filled his lungs. Not salt air. Not forest winds. Something… clinical. Cold.

He opened his eyes.

A ceiling of reinforced steel greeted him, dull and gray. Artificial lights hummed faintly. Tubes ran into his arms. A slow beeping noise echoed beside him. He turned his head—no restraints, no bindings. Just sensors. Machines. Observation.

Alive.

He exhaled.

Then came the pain—blunt, lingering, wrapped around his core like a cold chain. Dyug’s muscles twitched, aching from disuse. He looked down. His armor had been removed, his tunic replaced with sterile fabric. But his body was intact. Scarred, perhaps—but not mutilated. He ran his fingers across his chest and felt the trace of divine magic, dulled but not broken.

Footsteps. Two sets. Then a third.

The door to the chamber hissed open, and three figures stepped in—two men in naval uniforms and one woman in a white lab coat. None of them looked frightened. Not anymore.

“Good morning,” said the woman gently. “You’ve been unconscious for seventy-three days. You are in a secure Indian research and defense facility. I am Dr. Neha Verma. These are Commander Rathore and Intelligence Officer Vikram Desai.”

Dyug said nothing. His eyes slowly scanned the room. Escape routes. Weapon placement. Energy fields. None.

Dr. Neha continued, “We know who you are. Prince Dyug von Forestia. 387th in line to the Royal Throne. Wielder of Divine Lunar Magic. Commander of the First Strike Fleet that attacked the South China Sea. You were the only survivor.”

At this, Dyug’s gaze sharpened.

“Where… am I?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“You are safe,” said Commander Rathore. “This is a neutral zone—well-guarded, yes, but not a prison. We have kept you alive. Monitored your health. Even protected you when the Elven invasion reached Antarctica.”

Dyug leaned forward slightly. “The invasion… continued?”

Vikram Desai nodded. “Yes. Under the command of Knight-Commander Mary. She launched a coordinated attack on Antarctica using cloaked portals and destroyed multiple research stations. However… things did not go as you likely expected.”

Dr. Neha tapped a console, and a holo-projection lit the room. A 3D representation of the Leviathan coiled beneath the ocean trench flickered into view—dormant, vast, divine.

“She found something,” Neha said. “A creature older than both our worlds. Possibly a god—or a weapon created by one. She made contact. Formed a link. Stabilized it.”

“And now,” Vikram added, “she speaks through it.”

Dyug sat in stunned silence, staring at the image. Not at the Leviathan. But at the smaller figure hovering near its core.

“…Mary,” he whispered. “She lives?”

“Yes,” Rathore said. “And she made her first demand two days ago. She told every human nation: ‘If Prince Dyug is in your custody, return him. In exchange, the Leviathan will not harm a single human.’”

POV 2: Mary – The Abyss

Mary drifted in a sea of dreams. Not unconscious—but no longer wholly awake.

The Leviathan slept. But even in slumber, it remembered.

Its thoughts were fluid things—shapes, impressions, not words. And Mary, suspended within its essence, translated what she could.

It dreamed of storms. Of trenches that cracked the crust of young planets. Of stars swallowed in sleep.

It dreamed of her.

She was the only voice it heard now. The only one it trusted.

Aleran stood at the edge of the chamber, still keeping vigil. Though much of his time now was spent in quiet prayer, Mary had no illusions—he was guarding her as much as the creature. Just in case.

Mary whispered, “He’s awake.”

Aleran stiffened. “The prince?”

She nodded. “I felt it through the sea. Like a beacon relit.”

The Leviathan stirred slightly, a curl of energy rippling across its dorsal plates. Mary placed a hand against its warm skin and sent a thought: Not yet.

She would not allow it to lash out. Not yet. Not until she had Dyug returned.

She owed him that.

She needed to see with her own eyes if the boy she loved had survived the war inside his own soul.

POV 3: Solomon Kane – Naval Command, Arabian Sea

“I don’t like it,” Solomon said, pacing across the carrier deck as Asha and Jamie monitored updated scans of the trench.

“She hasn’t moved the Leviathan,” Jamie said. “That’s a good sign.”

Solomon frowned. “Or it’s gathering strength.”

Asha shook her head. “No. Mary’s bargaining. You know it. And she’s not asking for territory or power.”

“She’s asking for Dyug,” Solomon said, voice dark. “And we’re thinking of giving him?”

Asha crossed her arms. “He was a prisoner of war. Not a criminal. We’ve interrogated him, confirmed he hasn’t contacted enemy command. And Mary… she’s stabilized the Rift. We haven’t had a single tectonic disruption in two weeks.”

Solomon muttered, “We hand him over, we give her something priceless—leverage.”

“No,” Jamie said softly. “We give her something human.”

That gave Solomon pause.

POV 4: Dyana – Sky-Crown Orbital Platform

“They’re considering it?” Dyana asked coldly.

“Yes,” said her aide. “The Indian government has proposed a monitored handover at a neutral zone in the Southern Indian Ocean.”

Dyana tapped the map in front of her. “And you believe she’ll keep her word?”

“She hasn’t lied yet,” the aide said. “Her psychic transmissions match calm oceanic activity. The Leviathan is dormant. Her link is stable.”

Dyana nodded slowly. “Then prepare backup contingencies. If Dyug returns and destabilizes the link—if her emotions awaken that thing—we cut them both off. Understood?”

POV 5: Dyug – Interrogation Chamber

Dyug stared at the projection of Mary, her body suspended in the glow of the Leviathan’s coils. Something in his chest shifted.

“You will release me?” he asked.

Commander Rathore folded his arms. “Under escort. And under the condition that your return confirms the creature’s peaceful stance. If anything changes—we respond.”

Dyug nodded. “You’re making the right choice. But not for the reason you think.”

Vikram frowned. “What do you mean?”

Dyug looked at them—seriously, sharply.

“She didn’t bind it,” he said. “She merged with it. If you withhold me from her, the part of it that listens will begin to sleep again.”

He touched his chest. “You may not believe in gods. But something ancient chose her. And if she begins to grieve…”

He let the silence finish his warning.

POV 6: Mary – Beneath the Leviathan

She stood now, slowly recovering. Her strength returning.

And through the Leviathan’s dreams, she felt it.

A pulse. A presence.

He is coming.

Her heartbeat quickened.

Not with fear.

But with hope.

And as the Leviathan curled tighter around the trench, the currents grew still once more.

She whispered, “Soon.”