The sea
The meteors fall like rain. They call it cleaning.
What's left is a black sea and a forest of husks — pale, glowing, pored like bone. Beautiful the way a held breath is beautiful. And the sea remembers everything that sinks into it.
The husks
They put it in the machine. A stone comes out.
The eyes close, and something small remains — a stone nobody asks about, and nobody follows where it goes. Each husk keeps one memory on a loop, forever. Drift too close, and the dream becomes yours.
Who's down there
The ones still moving
The diver
Nari
She goes down to bring the drowned back up — and is starting to forget which memories are hers.
The still one
Jun
Half-buried, half-awake. He remembers the surface, and won't say what it cost him.
The tender
Min
She keeps the husks. Some say she talks to them. Some say they answer.
바다가 기억해. The sea remembers.
Full descent — surfacing soon