Water Children

I finally found you.

I walked towards the centre, limping. A narrow path led to a small altar. Calling it a vase felt wrong—too crude a word for what stood before me.

Standing before it, my mind went blank with amazement.

Fine threads of water descended from an opening in the ceiling—gentle, deliberate.

As beautiful as it was, it couldn’t compare to what lay at the center.

But that was only a prelude.

The centerpiece—a cascade born from the separating threads—fell with quiet authority. Each thread split the air cascading into four different contained lagoons, precise, calm, clean.

The droplets didn’t fall so much as choose to descend, glinting with a light that wasn’t reflection but something deeper. Like the blue-purple glow of storm-bugs under rubble.

The ceiling above, once a primitive hole, was no longer. Intricate geometrical structures encircled the cascade with cold distance, refraining from touching it—as if afraid.

My wound, the warmth, the exhaustion... I was tired.

The calm, constant sound of water hitting the ground made me realize—I had finally found it.

My consciousness slipped, and I fell.

*Thump*

I woke up in a familiar place.

It was a bitter sight. Tsk.

I clenched my teeth so hard that blood nearly reached the floor.

Or at least, it should have.

It wasn’t intentional, but I did it anyway.

So why... why didn’t the pain come?

I remembered the temple—the moment I passed out.

I wasn’t sure what was worse: the danger of being here, or being forced to remember this scene.

The ruins of a city stretched beneath me, pieces still falling, like they had been falling forever.

My vision blurred, and another reality bled through. The same city—but alive. Brimming with movement, as if it had never fallen.

Though “see” might an overstatement.

The ruins were personal—every crack, every piece, known.

This? I don’t know what this is.

I’m not sure if watching made the vision worse or if it just stayed that way all along.

I heard a child’s cry and followed.

An explosion roared, but in my ears, the wailing was louder.

The child ran—and so did I.

While he ran forward, searching for his parents, I instinctively jumped backward into a hiding spot.

My head spun.

I couldn’t think straight—no, I couldn’t think at all.

I planned my escape. I wouldn’t let them catch me.

But my eyes betrayed me. They locked on the running child.

Damn.

What is happening?

Almost in panic, I saw it.

Fuck.

A row of teeth crept from behind a crumbling building.

Amid the collapsing structures, the screams, the blood, the bodies—there was only silence in my head.

My focus narrowed to what stood before me.

No way to run.

This was it.

It had to be one of those intelligent ones.

I nearly gave up—until I saw the child.

Just a meter away from the trap.

I was blank, at a dead end.

Then why… why was I running?

Before I could answer, I was already sprinting.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

I screamed—No!—so loud my voice cracked.

But what shocked me wasn’t the scream.

It was who I screamed at: not the child—his parents.

The child screamed too, as he watched them get devoured.

It hurt in more ways than I can count.

Then... it stopped.

Two tears fell—one from him, one from me.

I turned into the child, trying to understand his words.

But I couldn’t hear. Couldn’t understand.

I am sorry.

The words escaped, barely a whisper. They caught me off guard.

Then it hit me.

People?

I haven’t seen anyone in years.

The moment the thought struck, everything vanished.

Like it had been waiting for me to realize.

Hoping I’d return to the temple, I opened my already open eyes.

Damn.

I hadn’t escaped.

Back again. That familiar place.

I sidestepped a falling stone, scanning the area.

It was one of those quiet days.

I entered one of my favorite buildings.

It stood proudly despite the hits—still holding its shape.

Probably the only one still intact.

Ready to vault over the entrance counter, I noticed something strange.

My hands reached up—to grab the edge—instead of down to push myself.

…Huh?

Just as a thought was forming, I heard something upstairs.

I sprinted to the roof.

A bird fluttered just above the rubble—a real one. Not broken, not bloodied, not some hallucination of bone and rot. It stood there, almost proud, head tilted, watching me.

For a second, everything paused. Just me, and this tiny, beating thing that had found a way to live.

I looked at it. It looked back.

“So, you’re a survivor like me.”

Ha.

I pulled a loaf of bread from my backpack.

Wait… backpack?

Never mind.

I tore it apart.

“Here you go, little guy.”

I fed the bird and watched the horizon.

A warm feeling lingered. Strange—the city shouldn’t be this warm.

I ignored it.

After eating, the bird flew off.

Nothing happened, but my expression hardened.

The warmth cracked, while something dark rose.

From an unseen angle, a monster emerged.

The bird’s wings flared—a last flash of orange against the gray.

In one leap, it opened its mouth and swallowed the bird whole.

Before I could blink, it vanished again.

The air where the bird had been shivered, and for a heartbeat, I felt the same hollow cold as when…

It was then that I understood.

This is a trial.

I began searching for clues, but suddenly, I woke up—refreshed.

Finally, the temple again.

The limp was gone, the fatigue too.

I checked my side and leg. The wounds were still there—but better.

So I wasn’t healed.

And it wasn’t a trial.

Did I really just pass out?

I can’t let that happen again.

My mind drifted to the possible dangers of losing consciousness again.

I ran a hand through my hair and calmed myself.

Focus.

It’s not safe to stay here.

I searched for my backpack.

Right. I lost that long ago.

Too tired to notice before—but now I saw them.

Statues. Several. All watching the cascade.

Four narrow paths intersected at the altar.

A square room. Four paths. Four ponds—water nearly at the brim.

Statues. Vases. Objects I couldn’t decipher.

No clues.

I need something to throw.

I returned to the previous room.

Calling it a door was generous. It was just another perfect geometric hole—uncannily precise.

But a door should have a... door. Right?

The previous room was more deteriorated.

Worked for me—plenty of stones to throw.

Then a chill ran down my spine.

The temperature.

The final room was warm. Too warm.

Warmer than it should’ve been.

Here, it was fresh—at least until moments ago.

I felt the shift.

Could that mean...?

The stones began to dance.

Fuck. I’d been asleep far longer than I thought.

I grabbed whatever I could.

Then—impact.

My body slammed against the wall.

Right where I’d been wounded before.

Luckily, it was a small one.

Several eyes, sharp teeth, fins, scales.

Okay. Not that dangerous.

It launched again. I dodged.

It hit the wall—stunned.

I grabbed it and hurled it at the opposite door—hoping to buy time.

I missed. Not that it mattered.

The temple had fallen to the monsters.

Going back was no longer an option.

One of the creatures turned. Its eyes found me first—two sickly, pulsating voids, so absent of light they seemed to swallow it. No rage, no thought. Just hunger. And then, the teeth. Endless, jagged rows.

I clenched my jaw. Hard. Harder. Until the pain gave me a thread to hold onto.

As the monster woke up, I regretted thinking it was lucky it was a small one.

The temple kept shaking. It was only a matter of time before they tore it apart and devoured me.

I dashed to the altar.

I had to decide. The cascade—or one of the ponds?

I threw rocks.

Both melted. Dissolved. Vanished. Hard to say.

But they were gone.

The fish entered, twitching—uncomfortable with the temperature.

I turned to face it, back to the altar.

One wrong move and I’d die.

Think, Kai. Think.

The monster regained its composure and lunged.

Nowhere to run.

I concentrated.

Closed my eyes.

Time slowed.

It’s hard to activate.

No! Now’s not the time to hesitate.

My skin buzzed—not pain, not panic, but the raw wrongness of a limb asleep and burning at once. The monster’s teeth hit—and stuttered, like it had bitten a hornet’s nest. A shimmer rippled over my arm, not quite light, not quite water. Something in between. Something mine.

The creature recoiled. I didn’t. For the first time in what seemed like forever, I’d struck back without running. And it itched.

I seized the moment and grabbed it.

Threw it—into the pond.

Like the rocks, it disintegrated.

Okay. Not the pond, then.

I turned to the cascade.

Before I could jump, the temple quaked.

The monster burst into the previous room. I tripped.

I fell.

But my hand caught something.

My legs strained.

My eyes closed.

I opened them when I felt saliva on my face.

The monster hadn’t just broken through—it brought the temple down.

I’d grabbed its tooth—the worst possible handhold.

It drilled into my palm.

It hurt like hell—but it saved me.

The tooth wasn’t just sharp—it was cold, uncannily so.

With all my strength, I pulled myself up—using the pain as fuel.

That swing got me close enough to grab the altar.

Cascade it is, I guess.

Clinging to the altar, I pulled—with my ruined hand. Pulled the monster, too.

A primal scream howled from me.

The cascade engulfed me.

And I melted.

Metal.

Flat, gray, stainless steel—perfect.

That was the first thing I saw: a metal block sinking.

My wounds still ached, but my body felt weightless—as if pain belonged to another realm.

I stood atop another container.

Some were taller, some shorter.

Near the edge, I looked down.

Beneath me: an endless ocean.

Around me: containers suspended in an endless sky.

So this is...

Something flashed beside me—close enough to graze.

Not something—someone.

Then came the sounds: screams, fighting—everywhere.

I raised my defenses.

But pain from my hand brought me down.

Dangerous.

I was about to retreat—when I saw the fish pass by.

It ignored me.

Orange back, bloated white belly.

Not a monster. Just a fish.

Then I saw it.

Orange again.

Deep, light-orange—but with a warmth that came from its gaze. Gentle. Protective. Determined.

For a moment, the world was silent again.

We exchanged something no words could hold.

A warmth like fire—embracing, whole.

Then pain brought my head down.

And the orange... was gone.

I could feel it, the real danger was approaching.

So this is it, the God Domain.