From the nothingness, a massive form emerged. A mass—impossibly vast—drifted into the floodlight’s reach, though its true scale remained unknowable, swallowed by shadow and distance. All that K and Mera could discern was a massive concentric ring of hooked teeth that spiraled inward toward a fleshy, writhing abyss.The Vai’tolant turned as it approached, revealing a sliver of its profile.

Its skin—mottled gray, patterned with twisted, spiraling black streaks that seemed less like living flesh and more like the weathered hull of some ancient, sunken vessel. The eye was an empty black pit, so lightless it seemed to greedily swallow the glow of the floodlights. Only the faintest glint betrayed its presence, a shimmer at the edge of its oblivion.

K felt the weight of it. The pressure of its existence pressed against him—not just the physical enormity, but something deeper, something primordial. It was the weight of the deep itself, the silent threat of crushing tides, of endless black water.

The Vai’tolant coiled, twisting its endless form in a slow, deliberate motion. Along its back, jagged fins jutted outward like fractured blades of obsidian, each one unknowingly long. They trailed from its skull down its serpentine length, vanishing into the consuming dark. The creature turned its focus to the floodlights, drawn to their artificial glow. Yet, even as it loomed near the viewport, it gave no indication that it saw them.

The atmosphere within was deathly quiet.

No sound carried through the wyrm glass. Whatever noise the Vai’tolant made—if it made any at all—was lost in the thick suffocation of the abyss. K and Mera remained frozen, their breath held as they watched in terrified awe.

Then—as silently as it had come—the phantom leviathan receded. Its form fading into the black, its massive body once again becoming one with the cold, endless deep.

K broke the silence. “Incredible…” he whispered.

Mera descended back down beside him, her gaze still fixed on the abyss. “There she was—our personal leviathan.”

They sat in silence, still caught in the afterglow of the Vai’tolant’s presence. Their eyes drifted to the strange, twirling creatures slowly drawn toward the floodlight’s glow.

“Ms. Mera, I must ask… how have you prevented the creature from cresting? In the wild, they’re known for sundering the surface with their presence.”

Mera remained quiet for a moment, her arms wrapping around herself as the chill of the room truly began to settle in. “We use acoustic lures, electromagnetic deterrents, and synthetic pheromones to keep it searching the depths…”

There was a melancholic air between them.

K exhaled softly. “I see… so it’s searching for a ghost in the water. Endlessly trying to find another of its kind. Correct?”

Mera gave a slow nod. “It’s cruel… but there’s no other way.”

“And what of the Servinae’s obnoxious nightly outings?”

“The wyrm glass dampens the sound, but she occasionally has fits if their parties last more than a week. Lucky for us, the Servinae have multiple party sites—not to mention the Skolas Sky Metropolis.”

K shivered as the cold began to really bite into his bones, “I see… Ms. Mera, I must admit, while this synthetic ocean is a marvel beyond my wildest dreams, I find it to be a terribly lonely existence.”

Mera met his gaze, her expression solemn. “You’d be right… it really is terribly lonely.”

After a couple more minutes, the biting cold became unbearable. Gathering the courage, Mera poked at a sleeping Romm, who grumpily awoke. Noa, on the other hand, simply stood up from their seat as if they hadn’t slept at all.

Before leaving, they cast a final glance into the murky waters. Then, with a flick of a switch, the floodlights winked out—darkness rushing in to reclaim the depths.

The group once again ascended up the elevator and began to head back to the lowglider. K had said his farewells to Mera, letting Gira regain control. And as the lowglider began to ascend, something clicked in Gira’s brain.

“WAIT! Where the hell are the Servinae? We saw the cool sea creature and the huge water tank, but what about those noisy asshats?! What do they even look like?”

Romm gave Gira a bored look. “The Servinae that live here are probably all in the Simulacrum.” He crawled over to the edge of the lowglider and pointed at the buildings below. “So, yeah—probably a bunch down there.”

“Oh. Can I meet one?”

As gracefully as Romm could, he dragged himself over to Gira, grabbed his hand, and gave it a firm shake. “Nice to meet you.”

“Huh?”

. . .

“HUH?!” Gira’s hair bits shot up. “You’re a Servinae?!”

“Yup. You’ve probably met some in Krreat too,” Romm said nonchalantly, already settling back into his seat. “We’re a type of human, you know. So we look—well—human.”

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“Huh?! Wait, what even makes you a Servinae?”

“Uhhh—most of us have different colored hair or eyes. Some even have weird skin tones like purple or blue, but people tend to go back to default settings when they get bored.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait. Different colored hair and eyes… Lucas? I-is Lucas a Servinae?”

Romm tilted his head. “Lucas? The name sounds familiar…”

Mera chimed in, “Lucas Russo… He was a victim of the twin station incident.”

Romm’s eyes widened. “Oh! OH—wait… Is his sister called Lena?”

“Yeah!” Gira said, leaning forward.

Romm recoiled. “Oh… yeah, th-they’re Servinae…”

“Wow, Lucas never told me… weird. So—is weird hair it? Is there nothing else that makes Servinae different?”

Romm shrugged. “Uhh. I guess pure-blooded Servinae have one thing that separates them from lesser specimens like me and your friend.” He paused, staring out at the passing clouds.

Gira waited. “…Okay?”

Zzz…

Romm had fallen asleep.

“Hey!” Gira snapped.

Romm jerked awake with a groggy grunt. “Oh! Ugh, what? OH, right…” He yawned. “Servinae—ri—yawn—ght. Basically, pure Servinae can modify their genetics freely and express new alleles even when fully grown.”

Gira squinted. “Huh? The hell’s an allele?”

K, who was still present within his throne, spoke up, “Dear me, alleles are genes that determine traits such as eye color, hair color, and similar features. What our sleepy friend is trying to say is that these Servinae can change their appearance as easily as we change clothes.”

“Ohhh!” Gira’s eyes lit up.

Zzz…

Romm was out again.

Gira glared at Romm; he then turned to Mera. “Question: What do you guys even do at night to end up like that?” he pointed at the knocked-out Romm.

Mera gave an awkward smile. “Ummm, we all do different things depending on our Kyyr abilities. Mr. Romm’s ability has a great capacity for speed so he tends to do perimeter checks…”

“Hmmm, so he basically runs around all night?”

She nodded.

“What about you?”

“Oh?! Me? I—uhh, I just make a bunch of silly masks that help us track abyssal entities in the dark. Th-that’s all…”

Gira thought back. “Oh right! You let Savagrios check out our soul that one time! Now that I remember—could you make me one of those mask things, please?”

Mera stiffened. “Ohh—uhh. S-sure…” she mumbled as she began to carefully weave Kyyr with her hands until the faint glow of her Kyyr Retina had formed.

“Uhhh. It’s so shiny…”

As she shakily finished weaving the mask, she then handed the mask over while averting her gaze.

Hmmm, she was so friendly earlier? Is there something wrong with me? Nah…

Gira happily took the Kyyr-woven mask and put it on his face. “So what now?”

“J-just pulse your Kyyr through it…”

“Okie,” Gira let his Kyyr bubble through his body as he slowly focused the energy onto the Kyyr retina. It grew slightly warm as the strange material seemed to adhere to his skin. The figure of Mera before him grew slightly faded as a shining heart-like figure materialized around her core.

“Wow…”

He glanced around. He could see ghostly threads of Kyyr meandering through the air, their strange forms quickly fading through the lowglider as they traversed across the air. When he looked down at himself, he felt a vague panic.

There it was—his soul. Cracked, broken, crackling with strange energy. Compared to the others, his was a chaotic mess of shattered shards and rippling Kyyr, only barely concealed by a complacent weave of energy that enveloped his body.

K, do you see this?

“I do, dear me…It’s as Savagrios said, a mess most foul.”

Gira placed a hand on his chest, feeling the warmth of his chest and the slight movement of his lungs. He felt nauseous as he stared down at the broken mess that he was.

“Welp. At least it doesn’t hurt.” He announced proudly, shaking off the unease. He looked up at Mera. Her soul was also a little odd.

“By the by, why the heck is your soul two colors?”

Mera flinched, instinctively trying to cover up her intangible soul with her hands. “Oh, you know, it’s—the—the… I actually don’t know…”

“Oh. At least the colors are pretty.”

Gira then carefully took the mask off his face. . “Uhh—what do I do with this? Does it, like, melt on its own, or…?”

Mera quickly reached out. “Y-you can just—I’ll take it.”

Gira handed it over without question.

Gira comfortably leaned back in his seat as some distant clouds rumbled somewhere far over the sea. He let out a triumphant sigh, “Today was so much better than yesterday! That mean bastard Gael had me doing random shit all day! If it wasn’t for my Coarseblood biology, I’d be a red sploch on the side of a hill.”

Mera looked away with a wobbly smile. “S-s-sorry about that…a lot of people are a little nervous about you so… you know…”

Gira squinted at her. “I know???” He dragged the word out, confused. “Know what?”

“Uh, they’re just…testing? No—ummm, I guess yes! They’re trying to figure it out. You know.”

“What?” Gira blinked, completely lost.

Mera blushed, pulling down her cap over her face. “They’re!” she blurted, before hesitating. Then, all at once, she spat it out. “They’re testing your limits to see how much of a threat you’d be if you went haywire! From your Kyyr control to your physical prowess, their determining how much of a theoretical threat you could become!”

“Ohhh…” Gira nodded slowly, letting the words settle—then his eyes widened as they really sank in. “OH.” His stupid little brain finally put the pieces together. “Ohhh… that’s kinda mean… but then again, I did almost eat a guy last week, so… huh.”

Mera visibly shuddered behind her hat. “Oh, dragons above—I shouldn’t have said that… Now you’ll be nervous around us. No, worse—you’ll start hating me, and then—then you might lash out, or get yourself hurt, or killed, or—”

“Mera. Huh? What? N-no, calm down.” Gira interrupted, waving his hands. “I get it. I understand.”

She peeked out from under her cap, still uncertain, but her nerves eased themselves as she caught a glimpse of Gira’s stupid smile.

With that, another day came to a close as the lowglider arrived back at the Voltasaxx Manor.