Reincarnated As Poseidon

The wind screamed through the shattered canyon, carrying with it the smell of scorched stone and iron-rich blood. Dominic's boots crunched over blackened gravel, every step sinking into the ash left behind by the battle that had nearly torn the Rift apart. His breathing was harsh, the ache in his ribs a constant reminder that he'd survived by the slimmest margin.

Behind him, the Rift's jagged walls trembled, cracks spiderwebbing across their surface. The battle with Thal'Zir's essence had not only drained him—it had left the very world around them unstable.

He gripped his spear tighter. Its once-gleaming surface was marred, the silver runes dulled as though the weapon itself had tasted too much darkness. He could still feel Thal'Zir's whisper—faint now, but there—coiling like smoke at the back of his mind.

You used my power… and you will use it again.

Dominic shook his head sharply, refusing to answer. But deep inside, he knew it was true.

A shadow moved behind him.

"Still breathing, I see."

Aegirion's voice was calm, but there was an undertone—a calculated weight that didn't belong to idle conversation. The god of tides walked toward him, his armor unscathed, his trident gleaming as if untouched by the chaos. But Dominic knew better. The faint shimmer in Aegirion's eyes betrayed the pressure of the battle they had endured.

Dominic didn't turn fully. "You could have helped."

"I did help," Aegirion replied with the kind of cold conviction that made Dominic's jaw tighten. "I didn't pull you from the edge because you needed to see for yourself. Now you understand why the gods fear him."

Dominic let out a bitter laugh. "Fear him? Or fear me?"

The god smiled faintly. "Both."

Silence stretched between them, broken only by the distant rumble of the Rift shifting. The ground trembled again—stronger this time—and a fissure tore through the earth ahead, glowing faintly with an otherworldly blue light.

Dominic's gaze narrowed. That wasn't normal Rift energy. It pulsed—alive, hungry.

Aegirion stepped forward, lowering his voice. "That… is his doing. Thal'Zir left something behind."

Before Dominic could question him further, the glow flared, and the fissure spat out a wave of steam, followed by a piercing wail that didn't belong to any mortal throat. The sound knifed into Dominic's skull, and his vision wavered—just enough for him to see shapes moving within the light.

Three of them.

They crawled out, dragging elongated limbs behind them, their skin stretched thin over skeletal frames. Their eyes—if they could be called that—were pits of swirling black. No mouths, no noses, just smooth, pale flesh where features should have been. Yet Dominic could feel their hunger.

Aegirion's expression darkened. "Echo Wraiths."

Dominic frowned. "Never heard of them."

"Good," Aegirion said, his trident snapping up into a ready stance. "It means your world hasn't been consumed by them yet."

The first Wraith lunged, a blur of unnatural speed. Dominic barely raised his spear in time, the impact rattling through his arms. The thing's body felt wrong—too light, too fast, yet strong enough to send him skidding back.

The second came from his right, and the third dropped low, trying to slice at his legs with jagged claws that sprouted from bony fingers.

Aegirion moved then—graceful, deadly. His trident punched through the skull of one Wraith, and the creature burst into a cloud of black smoke that dispersed on the wind. But the other two adapted, splitting apart to attack from both sides.

Dominic's pulse thundered. He called on Thal'Zir's power—just a flicker—and water surged up from the Rift's depths, swirling into jagged whips around his arms. They lashed out, striking the Wraiths and flinging them back, but the effort burned through his chest like fire.

The whispers returned. Yes… more… let me in fully.

Dominic's grip tightened until his knuckles turned white. He wanted to give in, to unleash everything, but he could feel Aegirion's gaze on him. The god wasn't just fighting—he was watching. Measuring.

Another tremor rolled through the canyon, larger than before. The fissure widened, and this time, something far bigger began to emerge—a clawed hand the size of a cart, dripping with seawater that steamed as it hit the ground.

Aegirion's voice was sharp now. "Dominic—if that comes through, this Rift will collapse."

"Then close it!" Dominic snapped.

The god gave him a look that made his stomach drop. "You opened it when you drew on his power. Now you have to seal it."

Dominic's breath caught. "You're telling me—"

"—that you chose this path," Aegirion cut in, his tone unyielding. "Now prove you can control it."

The Wraiths surged again, forcing Dominic back toward the fissure. His heart pounded as he raised his spear, every muscle screaming in protest. The claw on the other side of the fissure gripped the edge now, pulling a massive, shadowed form closer to the surface.

He didn't have time to think. He couldn't think.

Dominic thrust his spear into the ground. Water roared up from the cracks, swirling into a vortex around him. The power wasn't his—it belonged to something ancient, something that wanted to break free—but for the moment, it listened.

The Wraiths shrieked as the vortex tore into them, shredding their forms until they scattered into nothingness. The fissure resisted, the blue light flaring brighter, but Dominic pushed harder, calling every drop of energy he could muster.

Let me take it from here, the voice in his head urged. We can end this.

Dominic's teeth ground together. "No."

The vortex collapsed inward, slamming into the fissure with the force of a collapsing tide. The clawed hand recoiled, vanishing into the depths, and the light winked out with a hiss.

Silence fell.

Dominic swayed on his feet, chest heaving, sweat running down his face. Aegirion stood a few steps away, lowering his trident slowly.

"You did it," the god said, but his voice wasn't congratulatory—it was wary. "Barely."

Dominic straightened, though his legs trembled. "I told you I could control it."

Aegirion's eyes narrowed. "For now. But every time you use him, Dominic… you're letting him in a little deeper. One day, you might not be the one walking away."

Dominic didn't answer. He didn't have to. The truth was already gnawing at the edges of his resolve.

Far above them, the Rift sky shifted, streaks of crimson cutting through the gloom. Somewhere in the distance, the sound of war drums began to echo—slow at first, but growing louder.

Aegirion turned toward the sound, his jaw set. "They've found us."

Dominic's hand tightened around his spear. "Then we fight."

The god's gaze flicked to him briefly, then back to the horizon. "No. This time… we run."

But Dominic wasn't sure he could. Not anymore.