By sunrise, Beli took interest in it too.
He didn't ask why the others stood at the window, staring into the dark below like it held breath. He only approached, cold voice even.
"What changed?"
Arthur didn't look away. "It's listening."
Beli tilted his head, glass skull unreadable. "Then let's ask better questions."
So they did. Over the next ten days, they layered runes around the perimeter, delicate as lace. Fedlimid and Melite returned from each dive with more than samples, dark magicules clung to them, faint and unshaped, like sound warped by depth. Sometimes they paused mid-sentence, eyes distant, as if listening to something only the water could carry. Aleks, grounded on the surface, traced those accounts into sketches and long records, chasing patterns he claimed were hidden in the rhythm of the echoes. He spoke more than the others, but even his voice turned quiet when the reef pulsed just slightly off-beat.
