Darkness was no longer merely the absence of light; it was a substance, a thick, black fluid pressing in from every direction with absolute force. With every meter they descended, the weight of the entire ocean seemed to increase by the mass of a world. Jean Valéry, gripping Kaelysto's thick hide, felt the subtle vibrations of the alchemical runes etched into his skin. They pulsed with a pale blue light, a fragile shield against the void. Kaelysto’s voice echoed, not in his ears, but directly inside his skull. The sound was ancient and hoarse, like the roar of a breaking glacier. "It is not a cheat," Jean replied, his voice muffled by the thin water helmet he had created. "It is a negotiation. I am borrowing the force of the pressure itself to fight against it."Small air bubbles leaked from one of the seals on his shoulder, a reminder of his fragility. The Kraken was not mocking; it was stating a cold, undeniable fact."Of course I tremble," Jean retorted. He forced himself

The swirling pearlescent dust slowly settled, revealing a sight that caught the breath in Jean Valéry’s throat. He was no longer in the narrow, suffocating corridors, but in a gigantic plaza surrounded by magnificent buildings whose peaks were hidden in the eternal gloom above. The light here did not emanate from glowing fungi on the walls, but from colossal crystals embedded in the streets and towers, emitting a serene, bluish glow as if the city’s heart was still beating, albeit slowly. The air felt clear, protected by a nearly invisible, transparent energy dome in the distance. This was the core of Atlantis, the heart of a civilization that should have died thousands of years ago, yet somehow still lived in silence.His footsteps echoed across the mosaic floor that depicted constellations he did not recognize. In the center of the plaza, instead of a statue or monument, stood a spiral-domed structure, resembling a giant nautilus shell crafted from a material as white as bone. There

The silence in the study was oppressively dense, as if the air had frozen into salt crystals. The only movement was the desperate dance of a candle flame on the heavy oak desk, refracting Jean Valéry's shadow across the walls filled with antique sea charts and jars of strange specimens. Lying open before him was both his enemy and his legacy: the alchemist's journal. The journal of his former self.His fingers, now belonging to a young man, trembled as they traced the page he visited most often in his nightmares. The parchment was yellowed with age, yet the deep black ink still blazed with a searing arrogance. He could feel the echo of the soul that had written it—a man who saw the ocean not as a wonder, but as a problem to be solved, a fortress to be conquered."A vow," Jean whispered to himself, his voice hoarse and foreign to his own ears. "The oath of a blind man."There, written in sharp, haughty calligraphy, was the promise that had destroyed everything.I, master of salt alchem

Ancient dust motes danced in the dim light, each particle a silent witness to long-lost knowledge. Jean Valéry traced his finger over an intricate transmutation diagram etched onto fragile parchment. The symbols of mercury, sulfur, and salt danced in his eyes, no longer mere ink scratches but the universal language of the cosmos that he was finally beginning to understand. The air in the secret library felt thick with the aroma of old paper and faint ozone, residue from the protective seal he had deactivated. Silence was his grandest teacher.CRASH!The gigantic stone door at the end of the room violently shook, pushed inward until its ancient hinges groaned in protest. Dust rained down from the ceiling like dirty snowfall. Jean jumped, his heart leaping into his throat. The silence was shattered, replaced by the sound of heavy, measured footsteps on the marble floor. Three figures in dark gray robes stepped inside, their silhouettes sharp against the gloom now illuminated by the cold

Phosphorescent coral dust drifted in the salty air, settling slowly over the still corpses of the Marseille Cartel members. Amidst the ruins of the Great Library of Atlantis, beneath a thousand-cracked crystal dome, Jean Valéry stood panting. The metallic tang of salt alchemy still coated his tongue, and every breath felt like inhaling shards of glass. The last man who tried to seize his inheritance was now a grotesque salt statue, his expression of shock frozen forever by the power of the Throne he had just touched.The ensuing silence was more deafening than the battle itself."It's over," he whispered, his voice hoarse and broken. "At least, this part is."He leaned his back against a partially scorched coral pillar. His strength was utterly spent. The fight had forced him to draw upon reserves he hadn't known he possessed, pulling power from the very remnants of Atlantis. Now, the place felt like it was dying around him. The rune lights on the walls flickered like candles running