In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die.
Wednesday. 7pm. A calm, normal day in Vatheon. Nothing betrays what is coming. And yet the signs were there, if only someone had been able to see them for what they were.
That heartbeat, the one that had started so suddenly a few weeks back, has been growing stronger and quicker, until the point where it is present in every corner of Vatheon. Never loud enough to overpower any conversation, but never gone either. And yet, what can the locals do but simply continue on their normal tasks? Despite the situation, there is not a trace of panic or fear amongst them. Anyone who would try to question them just gets the same standard, slightly blank-eyed 'God will provide' answer. A smile. Nothing more. Nothing less.
And then, thirteen past seven, it happens. It starts with the water of the still ponds rippling sharply all of a sudden, before it hits: an earthquake. It is not long, a sudden quick here and then gone again sensation. And when it passes, most things seem to be fine. Some unsecured things may have toppled over, but it seems that the mostly low, sturdy houses of Vatheon have weathered the sudden natural violence quite well. the locals don't even seem, pun intended, shaken. Instead they immediately get to cleaning up the mess, as always their only answer 'Nothing is wrong. God will provide. Please be happy here.'.
But something is wrong. That heartbeat? The one that had appeared so suddenly?
It is gone.
The silence stretches seconds long, into minutes, into hours, but the heart beat does not resume. The mess of the sudden earthquake left behind is cleaned up as good as possible, and that night the locals of Vatheon go to bed without a care on their minds. And why should they worry? The strange heartbeat that had come so suddenly is gone again, the water around the bubble is quiet and still. There is a fresh new day tomorrow. The elevator is nearly done. The promised sun will be here soon.
And with those thoughts, the locals fall asleep, calm in the knowledge that all is well.
But all is not well.
It happens somewhere around 3am. A large shadow passes is front of the faint moon light that always filters down through the water, but before any late night owl can remark on it over their SFC, it happens.
The beast smashes into the bubble covering Vatheon with an angry sharp screech. It is gigantic, nearly as big as the bubble itself. Angry red eyes peer into the bubble, easily bigger than anyone in Vatheon. Its tentacles are numerous, slamming into the barrier over and over again until suddenly, with a odd low tear, one tentacle crashes through the bubble. And a second. A third. They are everywhere. Cold sea water splashes into the bubble, raining down the city under attack and suddenly it is anyone's guess what is the bigger threat here: The kraken's rage and tentacles or the rips and tears all over the bubble letting in ice-cold sea water.
But God will provide.
And provide it did.
Suddenly the coral glows brighter than it ever has before --and momentarily all foreigners in Vatheon will feel its drain on their powers-- and when the light dims, the barrier is repaired. And yet god had not been strong enough to repel the Kraken's rage. The bubble might be repaired, letting in no more sea water, but it could not force out the beast's tentacles. Those are still stuck through the barrier.
The Kraken screeches again, angrier now. It had been slumbering for more years than any could care to count, but this bubble. These people living there. That elevator they had been building. It had disturbed the Kraken's rest. And Krakens really hate to get up from naps.
But while its brain might be pretty small for its size, it understands one thing: these people, this bubble... they must be destroyed.
And it needs nothing more for that than its numerous strong tentacles, big and strong, swiping blindly at the buildings and people in the bubble.
Fuck this shit. It's a kraken attack.
That heartbeat, the one that had started so suddenly a few weeks back, has been growing stronger and quicker, until the point where it is present in every corner of Vatheon. Never loud enough to overpower any conversation, but never gone either. And yet, what can the locals do but simply continue on their normal tasks? Despite the situation, there is not a trace of panic or fear amongst them. Anyone who would try to question them just gets the same standard, slightly blank-eyed 'God will provide' answer. A smile. Nothing more. Nothing less.
And then, thirteen past seven, it happens. It starts with the water of the still ponds rippling sharply all of a sudden, before it hits: an earthquake. It is not long, a sudden quick here and then gone again sensation. And when it passes, most things seem to be fine. Some unsecured things may have toppled over, but it seems that the mostly low, sturdy houses of Vatheon have weathered the sudden natural violence quite well. the locals don't even seem, pun intended, shaken. Instead they immediately get to cleaning up the mess, as always their only answer 'Nothing is wrong. God will provide. Please be happy here.'.
But something is wrong. That heartbeat? The one that had appeared so suddenly?
It is gone.
The silence stretches seconds long, into minutes, into hours, but the heart beat does not resume. The mess of the sudden earthquake left behind is cleaned up as good as possible, and that night the locals of Vatheon go to bed without a care on their minds. And why should they worry? The strange heartbeat that had come so suddenly is gone again, the water around the bubble is quiet and still. There is a fresh new day tomorrow. The elevator is nearly done. The promised sun will be here soon.
And with those thoughts, the locals fall asleep, calm in the knowledge that all is well.
But all is not well.
It happens somewhere around 3am. A large shadow passes is front of the faint moon light that always filters down through the water, but before any late night owl can remark on it over their SFC, it happens.
The beast smashes into the bubble covering Vatheon with an angry sharp screech. It is gigantic, nearly as big as the bubble itself. Angry red eyes peer into the bubble, easily bigger than anyone in Vatheon. Its tentacles are numerous, slamming into the barrier over and over again until suddenly, with a odd low tear, one tentacle crashes through the bubble. And a second. A third. They are everywhere. Cold sea water splashes into the bubble, raining down the city under attack and suddenly it is anyone's guess what is the bigger threat here: The kraken's rage and tentacles or the rips and tears all over the bubble letting in ice-cold sea water.
But God will provide.
And provide it did.
Suddenly the coral glows brighter than it ever has before --and momentarily all foreigners in Vatheon will feel its drain on their powers-- and when the light dims, the barrier is repaired. And yet god had not been strong enough to repel the Kraken's rage. The bubble might be repaired, letting in no more sea water, but it could not force out the beast's tentacles. Those are still stuck through the barrier.
The Kraken screeches again, angrier now. It had been slumbering for more years than any could care to count, but this bubble. These people living there. That elevator they had been building. It had disturbed the Kraken's rest. And Krakens really hate to get up from naps.
But while its brain might be pretty small for its size, it understands one thing: these people, this bubble... they must be destroyed.
And it needs nothing more for that than its numerous strong tentacles, big and strong, swiping blindly at the buildings and people in the bubble.
Fuck this shit. It's a kraken attack.