The Triton

Chapter 6: Specter

24 YEARS PREVIOUS

Legions of them hung in the space beyond the shield. Rows and rows, perfectly rigid, their tridents wielded in sculpted unison, faces hidden behind their helmets. Thousands of them, in perfect rows, tridents held perfectly aloft.

Each merfolk warrior stood tall and proud, their powerful frames clad in gleaming battle gear that shimmered with an otherworldly light. Row upon row of them, perfectly aligned and disciplined, their movements synchronized with a precision that spoke of years of rigorous training.

Their helmets, adorned with intricate designs and symbols of ancient power, concealed their faces, adding an air of mystery to their formidable appearance. Yet, despite the concealment, the aura of strength and determination radiated from each warrior, filling the air with a palpable sense of anticipation.

Thousands of them stood in perfect formation, their tridents raised high towards the heavens, the glint of their razor-sharp tips reflecting the faint light that filtered down from the surface above. Each weapon was a testament to the skill and craftsmanship of its wielder, forged from the strongest materials known to their kind and imbued with the power to vanquish any foe.

Above the ruined city, between the legions and their target, a circular sphere of shimmering energy hovered protectively, casting a soft, iridescent glow that illuminated the streets below. The shield pulsated with a vibrant energy, its ethereal hues shifting and undulating like the rivers of the aurora borealis.

As it spanned across the space beyond, the shield seemed to blend seamlessly with the natural elements, creating an invisible barrier that repelled any threats seeking to breach its defenses. Waves of energy rippled across its surface, a mesmerizing display of light and motion undulating in the currents.

From the ground, the shield appeared as a celestial dome, the last a symbol of hope and protection for the citizens below.

As the legions awaited the command to attack, a sense of quiet intensity hung in the air, broken only by the rhythmic sound of their collective breathing and the distant roar of the ocean currents. In their eyes burned the fires of determination, their spirits unyielding in the face of whatever challenges lay ahead.

Honor and glory awaited them and their holy mission. A world bereft of pain for millenia, and those that lay inside the shield, they were the ones who threatened that pain once more.

Beyond the ranks of merfolk warriors, towering figures rode upon colossal megalodons, their presence commanding awe and fear in equal measure. Clad in ornate armor that gleamed with an otherworldly sheen, these leaders exuded an aura of power that seemed to bend the very currents of the ocean to their will.

Their mounts, massive and majestic, moved with a grace that belied their size, their sleek forms cutting effortlessly through the water. Each megalodon bore the scars of countless battles, their jaws lined with rows of razor-sharp teeth that glinted ominously in the dim light.

Perched atop their formidable steeds, the leaders surveyed the battlefield with eyes that burned with a fierce intensity. Their faces, partially obscured by intricate helmets adorned with symbols of ancient lineage, betrayed no hint of emotion, their expressions as cold and unforgiving as the depths of the ocean itself.

In their hands, they wielded tridents of unparalleled craftsmanship, each weapon pulsing with the raw power of the ocean depths. With a single gesture, they could unleash devastating torrents of energy, capable of decimating entire armies in an instant.

But there was no army. There was just a shield.

A shield, and two individuals.

Specter watched them all, listening.