I hurried away from Zale’s mother's house while adjusting my loose waterproof tunic, oddly conscious of how the neckline revealed a glimpse of my tattoo. Finding Zale's old residence hadn't been difficult—his mother's name had opened enough doors, even if most conversations these days left me feeling raw and exposed.
I'd met her in those first bewildering days after waking up on this planet. A shiver ran through me at the memory. Even now, it made my jaw chatter, forcing me to shake out my arms and kick my legs to ward off the tremors.
All part of the process, Cronia whispered in my mind, her voice only intensifying my shivers.
My interface popped up:
[Cronia, Goddess of Time]
"So are you really a deity…” I said aloud, immediately regretting it. A passing Tidewalker with two children gave me an odd look, then grabbed her kids and hurried away.
And another person thinks I’m utterly insane.
An odd sense of amusement flowed through me—an emotion I somehow knew belonged to the book. Some of the best people in this world are. And you’re right—I am.
“Insane?”
No. A goddess.
"Why, then, would you want my help?" I was still trying to wrap my head around all this.
Her response, when it came, was surprisingly soft. I…am broken, Zale. Shattered. We all are—my brothers and sisters. Most of us didn't survive the War of the Gods. Those who did were splintered into pieces, forced to bind our Emenance to weapons or clothes we'd used throughout our lives. It was the only way to prevent our complete dissolution.
I nodded slowly, jogging past buildings painted in shades of blue. "I didn't know there were more of you," I whispered this time, trying to avoid looking crazy to passersby.
Only ten left. There used to be hundreds…
Hundreds! Though, really, I should have known better. If my World Religion classes taught me nothing else, it was this—where there was one god, there were always others.
I kept to the edges of the street, avoiding the main thoroughfares. The last thing I needed was another run-in with those thugs from the town square, or any guards who might be looking for me. Though I doubted this world had insane asylums…
Oh, they do, Cronia interrupted. Just not on this island. They'd likely throw you in prison first.
"So, don't get caught," I muttered, passing tall walls adorned with spectacular mosaics. Waves and tentacles writhed across white adobe surfaces, catching the sunlight like liquid gems. An elderly Tidewalker tended to flowers on her windowsill—flowers that reminded me of sea anemones. I kept my eyes down and hurried past.
"You were split into thousands of pieces," I continued quietly. "Does that mean this world is godless?"
No world is ever truly godless, she whispered. We are but slivers of the One who knows all, sees all, loves all.
I frowned, a hundred questions bubbling up. In all my weeks here, I'd never thought once to ask about any gods or higher beings. I'd been too focused on escaping. But now…now my curiosity was piqued. There were gods above gods, it seemed, and one even greater still.
"Why isn't he doing anything then?" I asked, turning onto a cobblestone path dusted with pink sand. Market stalls lined the street, vendors hawking their wares. I wished for a hood, though that would probably draw more attention than it deflected.
Cronia's silence stretched on, and I got the sense she didn't have an answer. I let it drop, shoving my hands in my pockets and keeping my head down. It was hard enough trying to blend in among fish without adding theological debates to the mix.
“Is there a way to put you back together?" I finally asked, hoping to change the subject.
She sighed softly. Forgive my silence. Your previous question…it struck a painful chord.
I grimaced, wishing I'd never asked. “I’m…sorry.”
Don't be. Questions are essential for growth. But I lack answers concerning that…particular matter. She was silent a moment before continuing. As for reassembling myself—yes, it's possible. But that's a quest for another time. For now, let's focus on making you strong enough to prevent that cataclysm while finding five bonds.
I nodded quickly, relieved to be back on familiar ground. The building marked on my map finally came into view: "Hugo's Weapons," proclaimed the weathered sign hanging above the door. I patted my pocket for my coin pouch, finding nothing but fabric and leg. A quick check of my interface showed 250 gold—the polished box I'd found on the counter. I hoped it would be enough for a decent weapon.
The shop interior was vast, sunlight streaming through ceiling windows to illuminate rows of armor and tables laden with swords, knives, and spears. Shields bearing Wavehaven's crest adorned the walls. Despite everything, I couldn't help but grin as I wandered the aisles, breathing in the dusty, leathery scent. I'd always been fascinated by weapons, even on Earth, and right now I felt like a kid in a candy store—though I still tremored, trying to digest everything I’d been told.
So, you want to focus on training first, then? Cronia asked as I ran my fingers along the flat side of a curved blade.
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“I considered using just my fists and masks,” I whispered, grateful for the murmur of conversation around the room. “I could probably farm XP from ocean monsters, maybe even earn some brawler skills. But…” The memory of that cultist's blade piercing through councilman's chest, burning his soul to mist, made me shudder. Cronia shivered with me.
I understand, she whispered. Facing him is inevitable. A weapon would be wise.
Gripjaw clicked in my ear, making me flinch—I'd almost forgotten he hung around my shoulders like a scarf, his familiar weight having become second nature. He was glaring at a suit of orange-red chitin armor. I hurried past, sick at the thought of how many sandwalkers it had taken to make it.
Will you focus on the first objective for a while then? Cronia asked as my interface unfolded in my peripheral vision. I swallowed, looking from Objective One down to Objective Two. One bond down thanks to Gripjaw, four to go before I had any chance of getting home.
But my heart raced at the thought of trying to connect with anyone else. After those Tidewalker thugs, that murderous Skyborn…those "friends" who'd betrayed and killed me… My stomach churned and I had to fight the urge to rub my chest where the bullet had torn through.
Cronia fell silent. I might have tried to continue our conversation, but then I saw it—a gleaming golden trident mounted behind the counter, its three prongs like some royal fork. Something about it called to me, demanded my attention.
[SISERA'S JEWEL]
Legendary Trident
Requirements: Melee Combat [Level 5]
Mastery: 0/100%
CORE ABILITIES:
?? Tidal Surge
Type: Single-target Strike | Range: 20 feet | Damage: 120 | MP Cost: 35
Effect: Launches concentrated water blast that pierces armor
Special: +40% damage against fire-based enemies
??? Whirlpool Grasp
Type: Area Control | Radius: 15 feet | Duration: Maintained | MP Cost: 25/sec
Effect: Creates a swirling vortex that pulls and holds enemies
Special: Trapped enemies take 30 damage/sec, movement speed reduced by 60%
? Storm Pierce
Type: Chain Attack | Range: 25 feet | Damage: 90 | MP Cost: 45
Effect: Lightning-infused thrust that chains between wet targets
Special: Each chain jump deals 75% of previous damage, up to 3 targets
SPECIAL TECHNIQUES:
?? Depth Charge
Type: Charged AoE | Radius: 8 feet | Max Damage: 450 | MP Cost: 60
Effect: Compressed water explosion with knockback
Special: Full charge (5 sec) guarantees 2 second stun
?? Tidal Resonance
Type: Passive Enhancement | Range: 100 feet | MP Cost: 10/min
Effect: Amplifies all water magic by 75%, enables underwater detection
Special: Allows communication with water spirits within range
?? Ocean's Memory
Type: Technique Storage | Slots: 5 | MP Cost: 5 per swap
Effect: Stores and quick-swaps between learned water techniques
Special: 25% increased learning rate for new water abilities
ULTIMATE TECHNIQUE:
?? Maelstrom Convergence (80% Mastery Required)
Type: Ultimate AoE | Radius: 50 feet | Damage: 75/sec | MP Cost: 250
Effect: Creates massive whirlpool that devastates area
Special: Cannot be cancelled, drains 80% HP on completion
PASSIVE EFFECTS:
? Complete underwater breathing
? Pressure resistance up to 500m depth
? 60m underwater vision range
? +50% to all water magic
? 5 MP/sec regeneration near water
? Can collect 1L water/minute from air
LIMITATIONS:
? Requires Level 5 Melee Combat mastery
? 50% power reduction in arid environments
? 75% MP regeneration reduction without water source
? Ultimate requires full MP bar
? Some abilities require nearby water source
[All abilities scale with Mastery percentage]
I joined the line, bouncing on my toes with barely contained excitement. When I finally reached the counter, I found myself face-to-face with a burly Tidewalker wearing an eyepatch, tattoos dancing across his scales and bare chest. His glare deepened as I pointed to the weapon.
"How much for the trident?"
He snorted, glancing over his shoulder. "That's Sisera's Jewel, Strider. And unless you've got five thousand coins and a warrior's permit, you can't touch it."
My stomach sank, the trident suddenly seeming very far away. But something else caught my attention. "Permit?"
“You deaf?” The shopkeeper leaned in close. "Unless you've got a permit and coffers full of gold, stop wasting my time—and theirs." He nodded to the line behind me, all grouchy Tidewalkers except for one solemn Beachstrider who gave me an approving nod.
My heart pounded, anxiety buzzing through my numb fingers. If I wasn't fighting for my life, trying to prevent this place from exploding, I might have backed down. But I forced myself forward.
"How does one get a warrior's permit?"
The scales across his cheeks flushed red. "Really that ignorant?" He jabbed a finger toward a bulletin board bristling with knife-pinned papers. "Posted those for a reason. Now get out of line."
Feeling my own face flush, I hurried to the board, scanning quickly. The requirements were simple: train with a master fighter, prove yourself worthy, and join the warrior's guild.
I glanced back at the trident, its golden curves glistening, seeming to beckon. I'd start with something simpler, but I needed that weapon—yearned for it with an intensity that went beyond its obvious appeal.
“Zale wanted it, too,” Cronia whispered. “You might not remember clearly, but his subconscious is still linked to yours. Things he loved, things he wanted—they'll make themselves known. Like this trident.”
"Then it's settled," I said, scanning the notices again. "I'll train, get my permit, somehow scrape up the funds, even if it takes weeks…” Weeks. Time. Time I wasn't sure I had, with only ten loops.
For a moment, I wondered if training with a master and getting the trident was the right path. Maybe I should focus on simply crafting masks and fighting sea creatures. But the image of that masked murderer's blade flashed through my mind again, and I shuddered. No… No, I need proper training. I need a master who can teach me to fight and defend myself.
I checked my stats, my inventory, just because…and noticed something shocking. My masks…they were still there, including the Tempest Mask, along with all my harvested ingredients.
They'd survived the loop.
“The things you carry, the things you've gained—including stat increases—persist through every restart,” Cronia explained, sending an excited tingle up my spine.
Then, I slapped my forehead. “Of course!" That explained why I'd started in just my underwear—what I'd been wearing right before the reset. And that’s maybe even why Gripjaw was still with me, since he'd been clinging to my neck.
“Grab that coupon,” Cronia said, drawing my attention to a corner notice—an ad for a dojo near the main market. First lesson free, then 50% off the next.
"Sounds like a deal to me." I tore it free and hurried out, ready to meet my future sensei. One way or another, I was going to master fighting and earn that trident. And maybe, just maybe, learn enough to conquer the coming storm.
