Old Captain Mira was the current Navarch, her soul bound to an ancient conch called the Sea’s Voice . Once every thirty seconds, she could unleash the — a pulse that stilled rogue waves, repelled sea monsters, or guided lost vessels through fog. But between those pulses, she was just a sailor. No shield. No storm-call. Just a woman and her wits.

Mira tapped the conch. “This isn’t a cannon. It’s a heartbeat. Thirty seconds to breathe, to think, to choose where the power goes. A Navarch who can’t wait is a Navarch who drowns.”

That night, her first mate asked, “Why didn’t you just hit it twice in a row?”

Mira exhaled. Thirty seconds. That was the cooldown. She couldn’t just blast the creature — the first Command would only stun it. The real danger was the gap between pulses, when the kraken would recover and strike.

The lesson spread across Tidehollow: