Suddenly, a deep, resonant voice boomed through the chamber, startling them. "Welcome, travellers," it greeted, the sound reverberating from every direction at once. The words seemed to seep from the walls themselves, wrapping around them like a living thing. Shawn and Makara exchanged wary glances, instinctively moving into a defensive stance, their muscles tensed for action. Selena's hand hovered near the weapon strapped to her back, her eyes scanning the room with a terrified focus, ready to draw her weapon at the slightest hint of danger.

  “Do not be alarmed, travellers,” the voice echoed again, softer this time but still enveloping them from all sides. Shawn and Selena glanced around, trying to locate the source of the voice, their eyes darting to every shadow and alcove. Makara, however, narrowed his eyes, his senses honing in on a point of origin. “The voice... It’s coming from over there,” he whispered, pointing towards a massive portrait hanging in the front of the room. The painting was partially illuminated by the sea lanterns, revealing a throne room eerily similar to the one they were in now.

  All three turned to face the portrait, their gazes fixed on it as the aura around it seemed to thicken. “Sharp ears,” the voice complimented with a low chuckle, “especially for one who appears to be drunk,” it added, the tone dripping with amused contempt. The portrait is a mirrored version of the very throne room where the trio stands. The surface of the picture began to ripple like water, the painted throne room warping and twisting as if it were alive. Slowly, almost hypnotically, a figure began to emerge from the canvas, stepping out as though crossing a threshold between worlds. His body seemed to materialise from the very paint, shifting and solidifying with each step he took until he stood fully formed before them.

  “I am Prince Zhao,” the figure announced, his voice no longer echoing but direct, clear, and commanding. “Welcome to my humble abode.” His appearance was in a royal attire with a long cape with two rings on both of his hands, and to establish him as the crowned prince, he had a thin line crowned on his forehead, and his gaze swept over them with a calculating intensity, the corners of his mouth curling into a faint, enigmatic smile.

  Seeing Prince Zhao materialise from the portrait before them, the trio instantly recognised the formidable nature of their host. His arrival, slipping effortlessly from the painted realm to reality, sent a chill through the room. Even with their combined strength, they knew that confronting him head-on would be a grave mistake. They held their ground in a defensive stance, muscles coiled, ready to spring into action if necessary.

  Makara, sensing the shifting nature of Zhao's form, understood that the prince’s appearance was not bound by any normal physical constraints. His body seemed fluid, as if it could dissipate and reform at will. He instinctively positioned himself in front of Shawn and Princess Selena, hand gripping his sword's hilt, prepared to defend them against any threat. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Makara's demeanour remained calm and steady, a stark contrast to the carefree attitude Shawn had seen in him back at the forest. This newfound focus unsettled Shawn; he tried to steady his own nerves, hiding his trembling hands behind a facade of calm determination. Meanwhile, Princess Selena observed the two men with growing unease, feeling slightly out of place as she watched their stoic resolve. She tightened her grip on her weapon, sensing the tension crackling in the air.

  Prince Zhao's eyes swept over them, noting their guarded positions. His lips curled into a knowing grin, amused by their unease. Sensing the thick silence stretching between them, he decided to break the awkward tension with a voice as smooth as the rippling water he emerged from. "Please, do not be alarmed by my appearance," he began, his tone laced with a calm authority. "I assure you, I treat my guests with the utmost honour and dignity." His eyes flickered with a hint of amusement. "My form,” he continued, “is a reflection of my mother's Atlantean heritage. My core power resonates with the ocean's creature—the octopus. It grants me the ability to move through solid matter as though it were liquid and traverse great distances by creating portals. I am a bridge between two worlds, capable of thriving both on land and beneath the sea, unlike my siblings born to my stepmother, who are bound to the surface alone."

  As he spoke, the eerie atmosphere seemed to lighten, if only slightly. His words were calm and measured, carrying a strange, almost hypnotic quality that soothed their initial panic but did not entirely dissolve their wariness. The trio’s stances did not waver; they remained ready, alert to any sudden movements.

  Seeing their continued vigilance, Zhao’s smile widened, a flash of sharp, calculating intelligence in his eyes. “So,” he said, his voice now tinged with curiosity, “what brings a pair of travellers and the Princess of Atlantis to my humble domain?” He spread his hands in a welcoming gesture, though his presence still loomed large and unsettling.

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  Makara began to respond to Prince Zhao, keeping his voice steady, "We are but humble messengers from the eastern region, sent to deliver a message to you from the Tri-Kings of the East. Princess Selena of Atlantis is merely a navigator and our guide to your esteemed abode, my prince." As he finished speaking, Makara instinctively reached for the scroll, only to find it missing. A flicker of surprise crossed his face, but before he could react further, Prince Zhao’s voice cut through the air with a smooth, almost playful tone.

  "You mean this scroll?" Prince Zhao asked, holding the parchment up near his face, his expression unreadable but for the glint of amusement in his eyes. Prince Zhao’s voice echoed through the chamber, drawing their attention to where he stood. The trio's eyes widened in disbelief. None of them had seen him move, let alone approach Makara to take the scroll. The tension in the room spiked, their unease deepening as they wondered what else this prince was capable of.

  Prince Zhao noticed the alarm in their eyes and let out a low chuckle, his grin widening. "Ah, I see I’ve startled you," he said, his voice light as he casually placed his hands behind his head, a gesture of disarming nonchalance. "My apologies—old habits of mine." His demeanour, light and playful, contrasted sharply with the unsettling power he had just demonstrated. “Now,” he continued, his voice carrying a disarmingly charming tone, “why don’t we move to a room with a bit more... ambient space? And perhaps enjoy a meal together?”

  With that, Zhao turned and walked directly toward a nearby wall. The trio’s eyes followed him, expecting him to stop, but to their amazement, he passed right through the solid structure as if it were made of nothing. They stood frozen, caught between disbelief and the growing realisation that this prince was far more formidable than they had anticipated.

  Just as they began to process what had happened, Zhao’s head suddenly popped back out of the wall, causing all three to jump in fear. His grin was wider this time, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on them. “Sorry, again—another bad habit of mine,” he said with a wink, his tone light-hearted but carrying an undercurrent of something more. He fully emerged from the wall once more, gesturing for them to follow.

  Still reeling from what they had witnessed, the trio exchanged uneasy glances but had little choice but to follow his lead. Prince Zhao guided them through a door that led into a grand dining area. Unlike the rest of the palace, this room was vacuum-sealed, free of water, and furnished like a grand banquet hall. The space was warmly lit by ornate chandeliers that hung from the ceiling, casting a soft glow over the large, elegantly set table. Plates, cutlery, and a lavish spread of food awaited them, each dish more inviting than the last.

  Prince Zhao, noticing their lingering hesitation, pulled out a chair and took a seat at the head of the table. He gestured for them to join him, his demeanour relaxed, as if they were old friends gathering for a casual dinner. “Please,” he said, his voice inviting, yet still carrying that same underlying sense of control, “make yourselves comfortable. We have much to discuss.”

  Shawn, Makara, and Princess Selena hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward, their minds still racing to make sense of Prince Zhao’s unsettling abilities. As they approached the long, ornately decorated table, Shawn and Selena exchanged wary glances. The prince's eyes glinted with amusement as he observed them. "Well?" he said, his voice smooth yet commanding. "Are you not going to sit and enjoy the meal?"

  Shawn and Princess Selena hesitated again, puzzled by his question. They glanced around, their confusion deepening when they realised Makara had already seated himself at the table and was busy devouring the food laid out before him. He tore into the succulent roast with no regard for etiquette, washing it down with generous gulps of premium wine from a wine glass. Princess Selena’s lips tightened in disapproval at his lack of decorum, while Shawn couldn't help but shake his head at Makara’s carefree demeanour, even in such a tense situation.

  Realising they had little choice, both Shawn and Princess Selena took their seats at the table. They began to eat cautiously, each bite measured, their eyes never straying far from Prince Zhao. While Shawn picked at his food, still feeling the weight of the prince's presence, Princess Selena ate with the grace and poise of her royal upbringing, her every movement a display of refined manners.

  Prince Zhao watched them closely, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he unrolled the scroll and began to read, his eyes scanning the message intently. The room fell into a tense silence, broken only by the occasional sound of Makara slurping his drink or chewing noisily. Minutes passed, the air thick with anticipation, as the prince’s brow furrowed in thought. Finally, he set the scroll down, his face clouded with a sombre expression.

  Makara, ever the impatient one, leaned forward, his voice cutting through the tension. "So, Prince Zhao," he asked bluntly, "what's your answer? Will you aid the Tri-Kings?" Shawn and Selena turned their attention fully to the prince, their eyes searching his face for any hint of his decision. The room seemed to hold its breath, the weight of the moment pressing down on them all.

  Prince Zhao let out a long, heavy sigh, his gaze drifting away as if lost in a distant memory. "The Tri-Kings requested my aid in the war against my father," he said slowly, his tone laden with an almost tangible burden. His words hung in the air, heavy and foreboding. Shawn and Princess Selena leaned in, their bodies tense with anticipation, waiting for the verdict that could determine whether Zhao would become a crucial ally or a formidable enemy.

  "I would like nothing more than to help the Tri-Kings," Zhao continued, his voice strained, "but I cannot."