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The battlefield was quiet for once—no fleets, no screams, just smoke drifting over broken ground. In the middle of it stood Scuba Horse, helmet crooked, scuba tank hissing, mug in hand, staring down at Raddarock sitting silently at his feet. “Alright… I’m gonna ask you one more time… where’s the ocean?” he muttered, squinting. The rock didn’t move. “Don’t give me that look. You KNOW what I’m talking about. We’ve been walking for HOURS—there’s fire, there’s space, there’s… whatever that thing is—but no WATER.” Still nothing. Scuba crouched closer. “You said ‘this way.’ Don’t pretend you didn’t say that.