Phaedra: As children, we all hear stories about you. If we misbehave, the god of death rises from the sea and takes us away.
Behind her, the ghosts have melted into skeletons, red eyes menacing and jaws agape, as though ready to swallow her whole. Phaedra plows on, not noticing.
Phaedra: He steals our souls- and wears them as his clothing. But you can’t hurt anyone on land… you never could.
A darkened beast appears behind her - a dunkleosteus, with open jaws, seemingly ready to silence her mid-sentence with a bite.
Phaedra: That means… you’ve been trapped down here this entire time… ever since…
The ghost Cheth had been inhabiting is completely dissolved now, an empty skeleton, unremarkable, except for the purple marks of Cheth’s tattoo bands. It looks very fragile as Phaedra reaches out what might be a comforting hand. The shadow’s jaw hangs above her head, but she doesn’t seem to notice.
Phaedra: It… must be so…
A chorus echoes the word a hundred times, in anger and in sorrow, and a wave of souls swirls past Phaedra, throwing her off balance. They’ve been reduced to mournful faces in the rush, and Phaedra throws her arms up to shield her face at the sudden commotion.