Soulbound Ch 7: The Things Underneath, The emerging Titan!

(Kaida) I have to admit, this ocean is almost... enchanting. The silence, the vast emptiness stretching before me—it's peaceful. If I ignore

(Kaida)

I have to admit, this ocean is almost... enchanting.

The silence, the vast emptiness stretching before me—it's peaceful. If I ignore the chaos I left behind, this might be the most tranquil moment I've had in a long time. I glance downward, squinting slightly, trying to make out the little creatures darting through the water. Most are too small for me to truly see, just flickers of movement, but some... some are surprisingly big.

Not big compared to me, of course. I could pluck the largest among them up between my fingers and barely even register the weight. But compared to the rest of their kind? Impressive.

One in particular catches my eye—a creature with wide, translucent fins, its body glowing faintly in the abyss. It glides through the water so effortlessly, so freely, utterly unaware that I exist. It has no idea that, in my natural form, I could drink this entire ocean in an instant, reducing its world to nothingness with a single absentminded breath.

The thought makes me smile.

Not in cruelty—just in amusement. Perspective is a funny thing.

I take another step forward, the ocean floor quaking beneath me, the currents shifting wildly around my body. The feeling in my chest is growing stronger, warmer, almost overwhelming. My other is close. I can feel it.

And then—

Tiny sparks.

Flashes of light dance across my chest, little flickers that momentarily illuminate the deep.

I sigh. I already know what it is before I even look.

I tilt my head slightly, catching sight of a tiny, insignificant craft ahead of me, its exterior lined with blinking lights and weapons that fire at my body with zero effect.

I roll my eyes. "How ridiculous."

Of course, they're attacking me.

I shouldn't be surprised. Every time I set foot on a planet for business, it's the same thing. The moment these little civilizations realize just how big I am, their first instinct is to fight. As if their weapons—so small, so pathetic—could actually harm me.

I exhale slowly, watching as the little craft continues its pointless assault.

I could destroy it.

Easily.

One flick of my finger, one shift of my body, and it would be gone—nothing more than a few bubbles drifting through the water. But I don't.

Because I can't risk hurting my Soulbound's bloodline.

If there's even a chance that one of his relatives is inside that little thing... well, I'd rather not take the risk.

So I ignore it.

I let them have their moment, let them fire their little sparks, and I keep moving.

They should be grateful. If I were anyone else—if I were a little less patient, a little less merciful—this entire planet would be gone by now.

But I don't want that.

Because I am here for one reason only.

And nothing—not a tiny submarine, not an entire planet full of insects—will stop me from finding my other half.

***

(Scott)

The Moment the World Changed

Okay. I'm officially losing it.

I don't know why I'm here. I don't know why my chest is burning like this, why my legs dragged me all the way to the edge of a cliff overlooking a raging ocean.

But here I am.

And I don't like it.

The storm is going wild, rain pelting my skin, wind howling in my ears, and the waves below? They look like something out of a disaster movie—giant, furious, and absolutely ready to kill me.

I gulp, shivering. Yeah, screw this. Whatever weird instinct led me here, I'm overriding it. I'm getting the hell out before—

RUMBLE.

Oh. That's not good.

The ground beneath me shakes violently, like an earthquake just punched the cliffside. My legs give out, and I fall flat on my ass, barely managing to keep myself from rolling straight into the ocean.

And then...

Then I see it.

Something rises from the depths.

No. Someone.

A head—huge, miles wide, filling my entire field of vision even though it's still far away.

A head with pale skin, dripping wet white hair, and a face so enormous that I swear it could cast its own damn weather system over the ocean.

I can't breathe.

I know what I'm looking at. I've seen her face plastered all over the news—the giant, the Titan that landed on the planet, the thing that's been causing earthquakes, floods, and possibly the extinction of at least three different coastal cities.

And she's right there.

Still rising.

I watch, stunned, as she tilts her head back, whipping her wet hair to push it behind her shoulders. Strands of it—thicker than entire bridges—stick to her face, framing features so large that I could probably stand in the middle of just one of her eyebrows and not even take up a fraction of it.

Then her chest emerges from the water, and holy hell—

The ocean reacts violently, waves collapsing away from her, entire swells of water displaced as her massive, impossibly proportioned body keeps rising.

I think I forget how to blink.

Because she is all I can see.

I have to tilt my head back just to take in the full scale of her, and even then, I can't. My brain is struggling to comprehend the sheer size of her. I can't even tell how many miles tall she is at this point. I just know she's beyond massive—a walking, breathing natural disaster that the planet never stood a chance against.

And she's moving.

Each step she takes shatters the ocean around her, sending explosive ripples that probably just drowned another city somewhere.

And she's coming closer.

Oh, shit.

I try to scramble backward, my heart pounding, because I don't want to get stepped on by accident.

Then—

She stops.

And for a second, the world itself seems to hold its breath.

Her body shifts, her mile-high chest rising and falling in slow, steady motions.

Then she opens her eyes.

And she's looking straight at me.

Right at me.

I freeze, every muscle in my body locking up as her colossal gaze pins me down like a bug under a microscope.

Then her expression shifts, and—

"Huh?"

...

I think I might pass out.