The ship drifted through the endless black sea, its hull creaking against the whispering waves. The water below was so dark it seemed to devour what little light the stars offered. This black sea was known for its closeness to the Gaulf made it infamous, a place swarming with monsters, Yet here they were, the Starborn, drawn into this madness by a single passenger. The captain stood at the helm, his knuckles tight on the wheel, stealing glances toward the shadowed figure curled up near the mast—a man who had somehow convinced them to risk their lives for a large sum of gold.

"This is madness," hissed a sailor near the bow, his voice hushed as to not let the captain hear him, as he leaned into a cluster of his crewmates. "You all know where we are. We're too close to the Gaulf. No ship comes back from that hell hole."

"Then what the fuck are we doing this for, eh?" another grumbled, his hand trembling as he adjusted the rigging. "I’ll tell you why—because the captain’s pocket got heavier."

"Not just the captain," muttered the first. "We all took our share. And for what? To follow some drunk fool into the abyss?"

The third sailor, older and grizzled, gave a dry chuckle. "Drunk fool, eh? Thought he was supposed to be some kind of hero, Some adventurer or something, what was his name again?"

"Hero?" the second sailor spat, his voice thick with annoyance. "Look at him. Does he look like a hero to you? Curled up like a child and clutchin’ that wooden jug of his?  I Swear I saw him sip from it when we hit that swell earlier. Bet it’s not water in there."

The group fell silent for a moment, their gazes drifting to the man asleep against the mast, his body wrapped in his cloak, curled like he hadn’t a care in the world. 

"God this is shit!" One of them said annoyed, "What the he'll are you doing? Do you want to be cursed by any god who hears you?" Another said reprimanding the other.

"Oh c'mon, the gods stopped giving a rats ass about us mortals a long time ago." Another sailor said, taking a large swig out of a grimy glass bottle, "they are probably laughing at us."

"Well I still believe they are watching, they just testing us mortals." The sailor replied, causing the other sailors to roll their eyes and groan, but as they continued to argue suddenly they hear a loud sound, like thunder.

"What the?" One of the sailors said looking upward, there wasn't a dark cloud in the sky at all, but still the sound continued to boom in their mind.

At the same time the ship begins to shake violently, the crew members looked pale as they looks out over the ocean to see that the sea had become pitch black, even darker than before, but the terrifying part was that the darkness was moving.

The inky waves churned and twisted like living shadows, shifting with an unnatural rhythm. It wasn’t water anymore. It was something else. Something alive. Something watching.

The crew, frozen in fear and confusion, suddenly heard a low, guttural growl—reminiscent of a tiger. The sound echoed in their minds, reverberating with an intensity that threatened to drive them mad.

The ship shuddered violently, groaning as though it might splinter apart. Massive tentacles burst from the dark waters, coiling around the enormous vessel with crushing force. Crew members screamed as they were nearly thrown overboard, clinging desperately to ropes, railings, or anything that might save them.

"Kraken! That's a kraken!" one crew member shouted as he looked over the railings, narrowly dodging a tentacle that slammed down onto the deck with a deafening crash.

Amidst the chaos, the captain remained eerily calm. Letting out a weary sigh, he released the wheel and sank to the floor, reaching for his cigarette case. With an almost bored expression, he struck a match, shielding it from the wind.

"He’s always pulling this kind of stunt, isn’t he?" the captain muttered to no one in particular, shaking his head as he lit his cigarette.

As the tentacles threatened to drag the ship down into the depths. The crew was in utter chaos, scrambling to secure ropes and avoid being swept into the dark sea, P

Panic-stricken cries filled the air.

“Where’s the captain?!” one crew member shouted, his voice cutting through the din. Though fear gripped him, he forced himself to remain calm, his years of training to be calm in ant situation kicking in.

Moving with a careful balance of calm and urgency, he maneuvered through the chaos, dodging overturned barrels and grasping hands. As he approached the wheel, a sudden flash of lightning lit up the deck, illuminating the mayhem in stark clarity.

The sight froze him for a moment—shadows of writhing tentacles stretched across the deck like monstrous specters, and the pale faces of his crewmates gleamed with desperation. But then he spotted the captain, sitting casually on the floor near the wheel, a faint trail of smoke curling from his cigarette.

“What the hell are you doing?!” the crewman bellowed as he stumbled closer, disbelief etched across his face. The captain didn’t even flinch, casually striking another match to reignite his cigarette as if they were on a leisurely voyage.

“Relax,” the captain said, exhaling a slow puff of smoke. “He’ll take care of it. Always does.” His tone was so nonchalant it almost made the crew member go mad.

The crewman’s eyes darted to the edge of the ship, where the so-called "hero" had been sitting moments before. The captain leaned back against the wheel, shaking his head with an exasperated chuckle.

“Why is he always so extra?,” the captain muttered, watching the sea churn.

The crew member, dumbfounded, suddenly realized that the violent shaking had ceased. Though the tentacles still coiled around the ship, their crushing grip had eased. A faint, uneasy calm settled over the deck, broken only by the distant roar of the waves.

Another flash of lightning split the sky, illuminating a shadow above him. He instinctively looked up, and his breath caught in his throat. Someone was standing atop the ship’s tallest mast, silhouetted against the stormy sky.

The figure stood motionless, peering down into the churning black waters as if daring the beast below to strike again. There was something unnervingly confident in their stance as though they regarded the monstrous creature as nothing more than a nuisance, in their hand, there was a large rock like object which he couldn't quite make out, but he could make out it's bright red and blue colour's.

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Suddenly, the figure spoke.

"Kraken!" the voice called, almost amused. "It seems I’ve already gotten your attention!" The words boomed across the deck, yet strangely, it felt as though the voice had bypassed the storm altogether, speaking directly into their ears.

The figure’s tone was brazen, filled with an unsettling confidence that silenced the chaotic whispers of the crew. For a moment, the storm itself seemed to hold its breath. Then, another voice rumbled through the air—deep, monstrous, and nightmarish. It wasn’t just a sound; it was a presence that crawled into their bones and made their knees weak. Even the captain gripped the railing to steady himself.

"Who dares… call out to me?" the voice growled, every syllable echoing with malice.

"My apologies," the figure responded with a mocking grin, "but I urgently require your audience."

"Who are you...?" The creature’s voice returned, laced with rage.

"Who I am matters little. What matters is what you can do for me," the hero said, tossing the rock-like object into the air before catching it effortlessly.

"Who is—" a crew member began, but the captain cut him off.

"That, my boy, is a legend in the flesh. The immortal hero, Ban," the captain said, exhaling a plume of smoke as he took another puff of his cigarette.

"Who?" the crew member asked, his confusion evident.

The captain smirked. "Hmmm. If you don't know him by that name, you might know the other one." He paused, letting the weight of his words hang in the air before exhaling another stream of smoke.

"The Immortal Flame."

The crew member’s eyes went wide as the name sank in. He turned his gaze back to the figure atop the mast, his mind reeling.

The Immortal Flame? he thought in shock. This was an immortal man, a man whose legendary adventures had spanned the continent. To see such a figure in person felt almost unreal, like a myth stepping out of the pages of a story book.

But something nagged at him even more—the captain had called him Ban. Did the captain actually know him? Before he could dwell further, his thoughts were interrupted by the booming voice of the creature below, reverberating through their minds like an earthquake.

"YOU DARE TO HAGGLE WITH ME?!" the monstrous voice roared, shaking the very air around them. The crew winced, clutching their heads in pain, but Ban remained unfazed.

"Haggle?" Ban said with a smirk, his tone dripping with mockery. "Such lofty words for a creature of the deep. But perhaps you don’t understand the situation you’re in. Can’t you see what I hold in my hand?"

He raised the object high, its jagged edges catching the faint light.

"The heart of a hydra," Ban declared, his voice echoing across the deck.

The ship shuddered violently again, but this time it wasn’t from an attack. The tentacles gripping the ship recoiled slightly, as though the creature in the depths had shuddered—if such a thing as fear was even possible for it.

A hydra was a creature that was a natural predator to kraken's or any deep sea creature, even children Hydra were capable of heavily damaging adult kraken's, but even though this kraken is extremely old, it should still have a tough fight. Ban thought as he raised the heart in the air.

"So, are you willing to lower your tone and listen?" Ban said. The creature fell silent, and Ban took the quiet as a sign to continue.

"Good. Now, a thousand paces from here lies the city of Atlantis, sunken to the ocean floor. Correct?" Ban asked, his tone sharp and cold.

"Yes. If you desire to go to the city of the g—" the creature began, its voice laced with irritation.

"Shut up," Ban interrupted coldly.

A pang of emotion rippled through the minds of everyone present as the Kraken's psychic connection flared. The beast's telepathic bond allowed it to convey thoughts and words directly into the crew's heads, which was the only reason they could understand it at all.

"I have no intention of venturing into the city," Ban said, brushing aside the creature's irritation. "I’m only interested in its current state. Tell me—or better yet, show me. I want to see what you saw."

He gazed down into the water, his voice calm. The creature paused for a while. The crew held their breath, their anxious anticipation palpable. Some whispered in disbelief, struggling to grasp the idea that the underwater city of Atlantis was more than just a legend.

Ban opened his mouth to press further, but before he could speak, images flooded their minds.

Suddenly, they were underwater, racing through the depths at an unimaginable speed. The ocean was alive with an ethereal glow, illuminated by countless bioluminescent stones scattered across the seafloor. It was as if they were seeing the world through the creature’s eyes, experiencing its memories through the telepathic link. 

As the creature swam past a large cluster of glowing blue stones, it paused and turned back, latching onto them.

Slowly, it began to consume the light—or, more precisely, the energy within the light, it seemed it did this for some sort of sustenance.

Satisfied, the kraken halted momentarily before surging forward at high speed, its destination unclear. Eventually, it reached what appeared to be its den: the hollowed-out head of a massive statue, resting on the ocean floor. The statue's sheer size dwarfed even the immense kraken, its features eroded by time.

As the kraken crawled over the head it gazed at a city, or the ruins of one atleast.

The structures were ancient and crumbling, their once-grand designs barely recognizable beneath layers of coral and sediment. Towers that had once reached for the ocean’s surface now lay broken on the seabed. Stone pathways, cracked and overgrown with marine vegetation, moved between the ruins, hinting at what must have once been a thriving civilization.

In an instant, Ban found himself back on the mast of the ship, looking down at the kraken below.

The other crew members stumbled, some collapsing to their knees, overwhelmed by the whiplash of receiving memories from a creature whose mind operated in ways incomprehensible to their own.

“Damn it!” Ban yelled, his voice echoing across the deck. Whatever he had seen had enraged him, but he quickly regained his composure, exhaling deeply before speaking again.

“That was unexpected... but I thank you. I’d been wondering what happened to the city,” he said, turning away from the kraken.

“Are you a follower of the God of the Sea?” the kraken asked, its voice dripping with suspicion.

“Never. I could never serve such pieces of trash,” Ban replied coldly, glaring back at the creature. Lightning flashed in the sky, briefly illuminating his expression.

The crew members exchanged nervous glances, unsure if this marked the end of the encounter. Then, with another crack of lightning, a massive tentacle erupted from the ocean, moving at blinding speed toward the back of Ban's head.

But before it could reach him, the tentacle was instantly encased in ice. Ban turned to face it, a grin creeping across his face.

“I was really hoping you’d just let us leave,” he said, his tone casual but laced with danger. “But I guess that was a bit naive of me.”

With a single, powerful kick, Ban shattered the frozen tentacle into shards that scattered into the ocean below. He leaped from the mast just as another tentacle smashed into it, splintering the wood.

For a moment, Ban seemed to hover in midair—not falling, but suspended as though the very air itself was holding him aloft.

“Well, I guess this was bound to happen eventually,” he muttered to himself.

He ignited the Hydra heart in his hand, flames roaring to life around it. The fire burned orange at first but quickly shifted through shades of blue and purple, casting an eerie glow over the scene. Without hesitation, Ban launched the flaming heart into the ocean at blinding speed, the light disappearing into the depths as the kraken braced for what was to come.

In the water, the heart continued to burn, the flames undeterred by the surrounding ocean. A vortex began to form around it, bubbling and churning with unnatural force. Within the swirling chaos, four glowing eyes appeared, piercing through the depths.

Sensing the impending danger, the kraken released the ship, thrashing wildly as it tried to flee. Ban smirked, raising a hand to conjure a towering wall of ice, cutting off the creature's escape.

"I just remembered," Ban said, his voice dripping with mockery, "I was hired to take care of a creature fitting your description. Funny how that slipped my mind." His grin stretched wide, brimming with a mix of confidence and mischief.

From the vortex, massive tendrils of water emerged, resembling tentacles of their own. They surged toward the kraken, slashing and dragging at its massive form with merciless precision. The ocean itself seemed to rise in fury, battering the creature from every angle.

Ban landed gracefully back on the ship, the deck slick beneath his feet. The hydra’s emerging form caused the waters to shake violently, its immense power propelling the ship farther and farther from the escalating battle