Night covered a certain fishing town. Moonlight spread thin across the harbor, and the sea outside remained calm.

Inside the local government hall, the lights stayed on.

A group of fishermen stood together near the center of the room, still carrying the scent of seawater on their clothes. Their voices overlapped as they recounted what had happened earlier that evening.

An older fisherman spoke first.

"There was a person riding an orca. Like it was being used as a mount."

A younger one followed right after.

"It passed right beside our boat. Close enough to see, was smiling and... not normal."

Their words came in uneven fragments, but the certainty behind them did not fade. The memory stayed sharp.

Behind the counter, staff members wrote everything down while listening. Their expressions remained steady as they moved through each detail, time, location, appearance.

There was little usable evidence. A few short recordings showed only the sea surface under fading sunlight. Waves and light, nothing more.

Most of the fishermen had been too startled in the moment to record anything meaningful. By the time devices were raised, the figure and the orca had already disappeared beneath the water.

The staff reviewed the footage anyway and archived it with the report.

They continued the questioning.

Clothing, markings, approximate size of the orca, anything unusual.

The responses varied. Some described flowing, luminous layers of clothing. Others insisted the orca's size was far beyond anything they had seen before, its body reflecting a silver-blue sheen under the evening light.

The details did not line up in a consistent way. The shared impression remained the same.

A staff member raised a practical possibility.

"Could it have been extreme sports? Specialized diving equipment? Marine exploration technology? Mirage?"

Several fishermen shook their heads immediately.

"That wasn't equipment."

"No one moves like that in the sea."

"It's not fake either"

Silence settled briefly in the room.

Riding an orca did not belong to any familiar category of activity. The sea carried its own dangers, and every person in the room understood what a single impact from such a creature could mean for a vessel.

The discussion continued for a while longer before the questioning gradually slowed.

Once the report was completed, the staff thanked the fishermen and informed them it would be forwarded for review.

Outside the hall, the night air felt colder.

Captain Jose stood on the steps, waiting. His posture was steady, and his expression shows calm from long years at sea.

He clapped once to gather attention.

"The sea holds things people don't get to understand fully. This one stays here as a story."

His gaze moved across the group.

"Tomorrow we go out again. The sea doesn't stop, and neither do we."

No one responded with words. They only nodded. The tension in their shoulders eased as they began walking back toward the harbor.

Even so, the memory stayed.

A figure moving through the sea alongside an orca remained fixed in their thoughts.

Later, when similar rumors began appearing along the coast, that memory would surface again with clearer meaning.

…

The report reached an office not long after.

It was read once, then placed aside, then read again. Some officers treated it lightly. Others spent longer looking through the details before returning to their work. In the end, it joined other unverified accounts that lacked supporting evidence.

No formal investigation followed.

As a precaution, patrol routes in nearby waters were adjusted for a few days. After that, operations returned to normal.

The report faded from official focus and entered local circulation as another sea story shared in passing.

…

Deep beneath the ocean surface, the immense pressure wrapped around Zoe’s body like a heavy, constant embrace.

At seven hundred meters depth, she continued her training.

She wore only a simple piece of shark-skin fabric that clung closely to her well-fit, athletic figure. The sleek material left much of her smooth skin exposed to the cold water.

Darkness surrounded her. Visibility was limited to a short distance before fading into black.

Both arms held a massive stone weighing several tons, pressed against her torso. Each steady movement sent slow currents spiraling outward. A crude harness of sea plants secured her stone trident across her back, the straps pulling snugly against her body with every step.

She adjusted her grip and pushed forward again.

The deep sea resisted her from all directions, squeezing her form relentlessly. The pressure made her think of whether or not going deeper than where she was and her movements more deliberate. A faint warmth spread across her skin despite the cold water.

This level of training had long become routine, yet the constant pressure still stirred something deep within her.

After parting from the orca, she had stayed in the channel, exploring shipwrecks while searching for a safe place to rest and undergo her next evolution.

Soon, a large shadow appeared ahead. A well-preserved shipwreck lay half-buried in coral and seaweed. Zoe swam inside the collapsed cabin, her graceful form gliding through the narrow space. Scattered gold ornaments caught the faint light. She picked up a delicate necklace, letting the cold metal rest against her skin for a moment before setting it aside.

She marked the location and continued on.

Eventually she found a small underwater rise and carved out a smooth hollow in the seabed for shelter. Her body moved with powerful, controlled motions as she worked.

Training resumed. Hours passed under the crushing weight of the ocean. The pressure never relented, pressing firmly against her with every breath.

As fatigue settled in, Zoe slipped into the hollow she had shaped. She lay back, letting the deep sea’s heavy embrace surround her. A soft, pleasant heaviness filled her limbs.

She closed her eyes and allowed sleep to take hold.