Reincarnated As Poseidon-Chapter 62: The tide that never ended

The sea grew colder as the northern currents bled downward.

Maelora noticed first.

She pressed her hand to the reef wall, feeling the tremble beneath the stone.

> "Something’s coming."

Dominic stood up, already tightening the band around his waist where his trident shard was hidden.

> "It’s not just something," he said. "It’s her."

Varun stepped beside them, eyes scanning the current above.

> "Who is she?"

Dominic didn’t answer. He didn’t know.

Not fully.

But he remembered the voice that spoke to him in the deep.

---

The water shimmered as it split down the center—like a curtain drawn aside.

And there she stood.

Selkyr.

The last siren priestess.

No choir.

No weapons.

Only her song woven into her aura, trailing behind her like a memory refusing to die.

---

She hovered a few feet from them.

Her eyes—bright silver.

Her voice—steady.

Her presence—undeniable.

Dominic stepped forward.

> "You sang."

> "So did you," Selkyr replied, her voice rippling the water like silk. "Louder than you should have. And to ears that should never have heard."

Maelora stiffened. "He had to. The Old Ones were stirring—he just... helped them remember."

Selkyr’s eyes drifted toward her.

And in that gaze, Maelora felt like her soul had been weighed.

> "You’re not the one I came for."

---

She turned to Dominic again.

> "You wear the mark of Poseidon. But your soul isn’t his."

Dominic frowned. "No. It’s mine."

Selkyr nodded once.

> "Then you must understand the path you’ve stepped onto."

> "I didn’t choose any of this," he said. "They gave me the shard, the memories. I only sang to stop the war from ripping the sea apart."

> "You sang a memory that wasn’t yours," she said calmly. "And now, the Old Ones move. Their eyes are open again. You didn’t stop a war, boy. You started the second half of it."

---

Dominic stepped back.

> "So what now? You’ll kill me?"

> "If I thought killing you would close the gate, I would’ve done it already."

A beat passed.

> "But it won’t. Because it’s not about you anymore. It’s about the sea. The world remembers its oldest fears now. And they remember you singing to them."

Varun’s hand went to his sword again.

> "If you came to threaten him, you won’t leave."

Selkyr glanced at him.

> "I came to warn him."

---

She reached into her sea-silk cloak and pulled out a small crystal shell. Inside it, a faint pulse—like a heartbeat—glowed.

> "This is all that’s left of the Deep Vault. The place Poseidon sealed them before Olympus even rose."

She tossed it to Dominic.

He caught it. It was warm in his palm.

> "If you want to stop what’s coming, don’t run to the gods. Don’t beg Olympus. Go to the Vault. Learn what Poseidon was really hiding."

Dominic stared at the shell.

It pulsed in rhythm with his own heartbeat.

> "You’re helping me?" he asked.

Selkyr paused.

> "No."

"I’m helping the sea survive you."

And with that, she dissolved into mist—gone as suddenly as she arrived.

---

Silence again.

But heavier.

Dominic clenched the shell in his fist.

> "We go to the Vault."

Maelora placed a hand on his shoulder. "And what happens when you open it?"

Dominic looked out at the distant deep.

> "Then we find out what Poseidon died to hide."

---

Far below...

The Vault pulsed.

Waiting.

And the sea no longer slept.

The Vault wasn’t marked on any map.

It wasn’t guarded.

It didn’t need to be.

The sea itself hid it.

Somewhere beyond the Veil Trench, where light refused to fall and gravity lost its meaning, the Vault waited like an ancient scar—unhealed and pulsing.

Dominic stood at the edge now, clutching the crystal shell Selkyr had given him.

Maelora floated beside him, tense.

> "You’re sure this is it?"

Dominic nodded.

> "I can feel it. It’s... calling."

Varun circled around them, his sword drawn.

> "Feels cursed."

> "It is," Maelora muttered.

Dominic didn’t wait.

He dove in.

---

The Descent

The water thickened as they sank—darker, heavier, colder.

Bioluminescent creatures scattered from their presence.

And the deeper they went, the more the sea changed.

Colors faded.

Sounds dulled.

Even the pressure felt like it was listening.

Then... they saw it.

A vast stone gate carved into a cliff face, covered in barnacles and rusted chains.

Three enormous locks glowed faintly—none physical, all ethereal.

The Vault of Salt and Silence.

---

> "What did Poseidon lock in here?" Maelora whispered.

Dominic held up the crystal shell.

It vibrated softly, matching the rhythm of the locks.

> "Let’s find out."

He placed the shell against the first seal.

It cracked like glass, the sound swallowed instantly by the sea.

The second seal shattered as the water itself recoiled.

The third—

Paused.

It blinked.

And then it spoke.

> "You carry the voice. But are you the memory?"

Dominic clenched his jaw.

> "I am my own voice."

The final seal broke.

The chains slithered back like serpents returning to sleep.

And the gate... opened.

---

Inside the Vault

It wasn’t a room.

It was a space.

A hollow bubble carved from the core of the sea.

Everything inside was frozen in a time long before Olympus.

Dominic stepped inside.

And visions came rushing.

---

He saw Poseidon—young, wild, not yet a god—bleeding as he locked something away.

A creature of water and thought.

An ocean mind.

Not evil.

Not cruel.

Just vast.

Too vast to be controlled.

Too old to kneel.

Too powerful to let live.

> "He didn’t kill them..." Dominic whispered. "He imprisoned a god of the sea older than himself."

Maelora looked around in awe.

> "This place... it wasn’t a vault."

> "It was a tomb."

---

In the center floated a sphere.

Black.

Endless.

Pulsing.

Dominic approached.

> "What is it?"

Varun grunted. "A mistake."

---

As Dominic reached out, a ripple of memory struck him—

Poseidon, screaming as the sea tried to swallow him.

The Old One, laughing with the sound of thunderclouds cracking over a drowning world.

And then... silence.

---

Dominic opened his eyes.

The sphere had cracked.

A sliver of blue light poured from it, forming into a figure.

Not male. Not female. Just voice.

> "So... you are the one who sings."

Dominic stepped back.

> "Who are you?"

> "I am the Tide That Never Ended."

> "Why did Poseidon lock you here?"

> "Because I refused to end. And now... you’ve unsealed the first song. You’ve told the sea it can dream again."

The voice turned its gaze—if it had eyes—toward the far ocean.

> "And others... have heard."

---

Suddenly, a tremor tore through the vault.

The outer sea screamed.

> "What’s happening?" Maelora shouted.

> "The Old Ones," Varun snapped. "They’re coming. They heard him... they think he’s one of them."

Dominic stared at the cracked sphere.

> "Am I?"

The voice chuckled softly.

> "You sang their lullaby. Now they want you to sing their return."

The vault trembled.

Not from collapse.

Not from decay.

But from awakening.

The figure of light and current floated before Dominic, neither hostile nor kind—only vast. Its presence stretched through every molecule of seawater around them.

> "You are the first voice in a thousand years to sing our name," it said. "So we ask—what do you want, singer?"

Dominic stood firm.

His heart pounded. His fingers ached from the pressure.

But he didn’t flinch.

> "I want the truth."

The figure tilted its head, as if amused.

> "You think truth is a gift? Truth is salt. It preserves and burns alike."

The glowing fissure behind it widened—revealing a glimpse into the sealed memories of a lost war. One even Olympus pretended never happened.

---

Visions of the Deep

Dominic was pulled into the light.

He saw the world before gods.

Endless ocean. Living currents. Conscious storms.

There were no thrones. No temples.

Only beings of tide and motion. They didn’t rule.

They were the sea.

Then came Olympus.

And with them—order.

Poseidon, bold and brilliant, came with tridents and decrees.

He didn’t conquer the Old Ones.

He bargained.

But some wouldn’t bow.

And he locked them away.

Dominic saw it all—saw Poseidon’s guilt as much as his pride.

And the last to fall...

Was this one.

The Tide That Never Ended.

---

Back in the vault, Dominic gasped as the vision faded.

> "He was afraid of you."

The being nodded once.

> "And rightly so. For we knew what the sea truly was. Not a kingdom. Not a throne. But a song without end."

Maelora approached warily.

> "And now you want to return?"

> "No. We never left. We only needed a voice to remind the sea how to listen."

The figure reached toward Dominic—not with a hand, but with presence.

> "Join us. Not as Poseidon. Not as god. But as echo. As vessel of the tide."

---

A Choice

Dominic felt the pressure rising. The water thickened. His ears rang.

The Vault wasn’t just revealing the past—it was offering him a place in it.

Maelora touched his arm.

> "Don’t."

> "You saw what Poseidon hid," Dominic said. "They’re not evil. Just... forgotten." freewebnσvel.cѳm

Varun shook his head.

> "They were forgotten for a reason."

The Tide That Never Ended drifted closer.

> "You carry the sea’s grief, boy. Let us take the weight. Let us make you the ocean’s voice again."

Dominic clenched his fists.

> "If I do this... what happens to the others?"

> "They will remember. The sea will return to its first state—free of gods. Free of boundaries."

Maelora stepped forward, her eyes hard.

> "That means war."

> "That means truth," the being replied.

---

The Pulse Spreads

Far above, at the surface, whales began to sing in ancient tones.

Currents reversed.

Tides shifted.

And in Olympus, the sky cracked with unnatural thunder.

Zeus rose from his throne, eyes blazing.

> "He’s opening the Vault."

---

Back in the deep...

Dominic took a breath.

His voice was calm.

> "If I let you in... you don’t control me. We move together. I won’t be your pawn. I’ll be your bridge."

The being paused.

Then bowed.

> "So be it... Vessel of the Endless Tide."

---

A stream of light shot into Dominic’s chest.

He didn’t scream.

He didn’t collapse.

He glowed.

Markings like flowing water danced across his arms. His eyes shimmered with deep azure.

He stood taller, but not heavier.

Like a tide on the edge of turning.

Maelora stared in shock.

Varun lowered his weapon.

> "What... did you become?" she whispered.

Dominic turned to them, his voice layered with another—deeper, calmer, older.

> "I became what the sea remembered."

This 𝓬ontent is taken from f(r)eeweb(n)ovel.𝒄𝒐𝙢