The pearl staircase seemed to stretch endlessly upward, winding through the silent, glowing heart of the Sunken Throne.
We ascended away from the sprawling courtyard, leaving the thousands of kneeling, incredibly powerful maids far below us in the ambient, breathable air-pocket. As we crested the final landing, the architecture dramatically shifted. The wide, dry corridors of polished dark crystal abruptly ended, opening into a breathtaking expanse of flooded archways. The ocean reclaimed its territory here, the crushing, freezing black water pressing heavily against the towering pillars of pale moonstone.
"The spatial displacement field does not extend into the gardens."
Krave announced, her voice echoing softly off the immaculate crystal walls.
"The flora requires the raw, unfiltered pressure of the deep-tide currents to survive. I hope you do not mind maintaining your control, Austin."
Krave added, turning her head to look at me with a serene, unreadable expression.
