Reincarnated As Poseidon Chapter 7: The city that sank in silence

The ocean shimred with a strange, unnatural calm as Dominic approached Atlantis.

It was not the mythical ruin many believed it to be. It lived. Breathed. A glorious marvel of magic and structure, veiled from mortal eyes by the deep’s oldest enchantnts. Towers sculpted from coral and crystal reached up like spears. Great dos of air shimred beneath force fields, bustling with life. Aquatic creatures glided through currents that doubled as roads, while Atlantean soldiers guarded gates wrought of pearl and obsidian.

Dominic hovered at the threshold, flanked by Talyon and a pair of tide-riders. He held his trident tightly, his god-blood pulsing louder the closer they got.

Talyon gestured. "You must go alone from here. Atlantis answers to no surface-born throne—even one bearing Poseidon’s power."

Dominic nodded and swam forward.

As he passed through the shimring veil, a rush of air and gravity greeted him. He stepped onto polished marble streets beneath a dod sky of water. Atlanteans turned to stare. So bowed. Others recoiled.

He was not unknown here. But neither was he welco.

Two guards in coral plate armor approached, weapons crossed.

"Na yourself," one demanded.

"I am Dominic," he said clearly. "Reborn by the sea. Chosen by Poseidon. I co to speak to the High Council."

The guards exchanged glances, then reluctantly stepped aside.

They led him through the grandeur of Atlantis. Dos filled with floating gardens. Halls carved with ancient runes that whispered as he passed. Statues of gods long forgotten stood in silent judgnt.

At the heart of the city, he entered the Council Spire.

Seven thrones faced him from a raised dais, each seated by a different figure: generals, high priests, scholars, and one woman—tall, sharp-eyed, her skin silver-blue, her armor gleaming like the moonlit sea.

Queen Neressa.

She rose.

"So," she said coldly, "the child god walks into my court."

Dominic didn’t flinch. "The rift is opening. The Abyssal Warden was just a taste. We need to unite—Atlanteans, sea guardians, rrow, all of us—before it’s too late."

A deep chuckle echoed from one of the councilors.

"And you believe yourself capable of leading this alliance?" the general scoffed. "A mortal boy? What legacy do you carry—other than death and borrowed power?"

Dominic’s grip on his trident tightened, but he forced his voice steady. "I carry the will to stop what’s coming. And that’s more than I can say for any of you, hiding behind walls while the sea burns."

Silence. Tension crackled in the water.

Queen Neressa’s gaze narrowed.

"You presu much for soone not born of the sea. Do you even understand what Atlantis has sacrificed to keep the rift sealed all these centuries?"

"No," Dominic said plainly. "But I’ve bled for it. I’ve lost people. And I’ve seen what’s waiting on the other side."

He stepped forward, voice rising.

"If we don’t act together now, there won’t be an Atlantis left to defend. I don’t want your throne. I want your alliance."

The queen studied him for a long, tense mont.

Then she sat.

"I will think on it."

Dominic opened his mouth to protest, but before he could speak, a side door creaked open. A young woman entered—a healer, by the look of her robes. Her sea-green eyes t his for a flicker of a mont too long. She bowed toward the council, but her hand brushed a coral vial at her waist.

In that instant, Dominic’s instincts scread.

Then the explosion hit.

A pulse of dark energy shattered the do above the chamber. Water surged inward as councilors were thrown from their seats. Guards scrambled. Dominic shielded himself with a wave, eyes locking on the girl—who was already gone.

Shadowspawn poured through the breach.

The Rift had co to Atlantis.

Dominic sprang into battle, trident flashing, as the sacred heart of the sea beca a battlefield.

This was no test. This was war.

Atlantis was under siege.

Dark tendrils surged through the shattered do, twisting and writhing like serpents. They lashed at guards, cracked pillars, and snatched screaming civilians into the water above. The council chamber descended into chaos—cries, spells, weapons clashing against shadows.

Dominic didn’t hesitate.

He raised his trident and slamd it to the floor. A shockwave of rippling force expanded in a circle, knocking back three shadowspawn before they could overrun a wounded councilor.

"Talyon!" he roared, but the guardian was nowhere to be seen.

More shadows poured in—so humanoid, others grotesque, with gaping maws and too many limbs. Their bodies shimred like ink in water, and their eyes burned violet.

Dominic darted forward. He spun the trident with practiced precision—impaling one creature, cleaving another across the chest. Sea-magic surged through him, raw and violent, responding to his fury.

But this wasn’t just an attack. It was a ssage.

He saw her again—the sea-healer. The girl from before. She stood on a broken platform halfway up the spire, her hair drifting like kelp, eyes glassy and unfocused. In her hands glowed a shard of the Rift Core.

She was the conduit.

Dominic leapt, catching a rising current. He soared upward and landed hard, facing her.

"You don’t have to do this," he said quickly. "You’re being controlled."

She blinked once. "I saw it. In the rift. The sea will be cleansed. Reborn."

Her voice wasn’t fully hers. It echoed—twisted, like sothing else was speaking through her.

Dominic moved carefully, raising his free hand.

"What’s your na?"

She paused. "Lira."

"Lira," he said. "This thing inside you—it’s using you. You don’t want to hurt people."

Tears welled in her eyes. She trembled. Then—

She scread, and the shard exploded in light.

A shadow-beast burst from her chest—towering, skeletal, cloaked in writhing tendrils. It roared and lunged.

Dominic barely blocked the blow.

He flew backward, slamd against the marble. Blood filled his mouth. His trident clattered across the floor.

The beast advanced.

But Dominic didn’t run.

He closed his eyes, reached for the depths.

Not just the sea outside—the sea within. The divine current in his blood. Poseidon’s power. Not borrowed now. Claid.

The floor cracked. Water surged upward like a geyser. His trident flew back into his grasp, spinning.

Dominic stood, eyes glowing.

With a roar, he launched forward—eting the beast head-on.

Their clash shook the tower.

He stabbed the trident into the creature’s heart. Magic exploded outward, ripping through the beast’s form. It scread, unraveling into smoke.

Lira collapsed, unconscious.

Silence fell.

The last shadows faded. Water drained. The do resealed itself with shimring light.

And Atlantis stood—bruised, bloodied, but not broken.

---

Later, in the healer’s sanctum, Lira lay in a coral bed, her breathing shallow.

Queen Neressa stood nearby, arms crossed. Her silver gaze watched Dominic closely.

"You saved her," she said.

"She’s not the enemy," Dominic replied. "Whatever’s inside the rift... it’s waking up. It can touch minds now. Twist them."

"And if it touches more than minds?"

"Then we stop it before it does."

The queen’s face was unreadable.

Then—she nodded.

"Atlantis will stand with you. For now."

Dominic exhaled. "Thank you."

But deep down, he knew this was just the beginning.

The Rift had marked him.

And it wasn’t finished yet.