The floodgates are responding

then The floodgates react. a decaying spirit Wiggle from the inside. "Here you are." Naird says. "Down here The dryer pauses for a moment. If you go down here You may not be able to come back. but "But I still have to go." The grass and water It splits under her feet. The floodgates open. On the inside It's not dark a stationary sea. a water that doesn't flow. a breathing structure. And at the center of it It keeps going down. The waves make a sound only from above. The lower you go, the lower you go The water swallows the sound, Light loses color. The dryer feels. This is not the sea. Something buried under the sea. The structure is revealed. It's not coral, it's not rock. a clearly processed trace. The pillar is broken The floor is worn out by the current Only the pattern remains. "Here...” Naird picks his breath. "It's not a place made by nature." movement in the water. The salt crystals Slowly take shape. Salt-relic. the more you get it right the presence of a thickening salt layer. Dryers don't use electricity. Instead— The crossbow is ringing. ice-cold charred. Freeze the crystal surface On top of that, the vision pressure is overlaid. Salt doesn't grow. The crystal structure is broken The shape collapses. It's foggy. Even though I'm in the water The view becomes blurred. a mist clutter. A shadow like an arm approach from all sides. Naird steps forward. with one's sword in one's hand It's not a cut. Cut the flow. The current is breaking off The fog splits. Dried food is a series of shots. The shadow that maintained its shape It's scattered and can't get back together. The coral is moving. the crust is split a burst sound from the inside. a coral breaker. The more it breaks The debris explodes. "Keep your distance." Dried says. The crossbow shoots back. The frozen arrow Accurately fix the joint area. Naird is not approaching. Instead of a flurry of mooncakes. A wave of cold air from the sword It penetrates to the inside of coral. Explosions don't happen. It collapses from the inside. The water is suddenly twisted. The road ahead It's pushed to the side. Tide Weaver. a spirit that weaves the space itself. Dryer judges immediately. No electricity. No fire. Instead of a root vision. From cracks on the floor of the structure The roots grow. The waterways are fixed. The intertwined flow is released. At that moment. Naid is digging in. a sword stabbing. It accurately cuts the center of the spirit. the shadow of a shipwreck. The broken hull It moves on its own. Brace line. Oh my. If it crashes The specter is pouring out. The dryer avoids the front. lateral movement. in a crossbow Disconnect the hull connection. Naird is a sword Cut down the specter that flows out. even in the water The scream disappears. Seaweed It's suddenly drooping. Sleeping kelp. If you come into contact with me My consciousness becomes blurred. Dryers don't get close. ice-cold shotgun. The whole seaweed Freeze at once. The broken pieces It's not moving anymore. an electric current-swallowing shape. a bibliographer. but Dryers don't use electricity. Instead of a sound wave vision. spread through the water Vibration. There is no energy to eat. Surgeeter is You become unstable on your own It doesn't maintain its shape. Lastly I can hear the mud floor. Meyer Crowler. The moment you were about to pop out from the bottom Naird steps on. The pressure of the water drops. without being able to pop out in the mud The shape collapses. the center of the structure. In a place like a broken altar The water flows backwards. It's not natural. "This is...” Naird says. "It's close to the root of the problem."