Fisherman’s Knot Chapter 10
The City explains, and Stan makes a choice.
If you’ve read this far you’re familiar with the necessary content warnings, but just a note that basically this entire chapter is Stan contemplating suicide, so please be safe. If you find this subject matter particularly sensitive, you may want to wait until Chapter 11 is posted, which swings more towards comfort.
Thanks as always to @thesnadger for beta-ing.
Nothing of Him That Doth Fade
There was always silence in Atlantis. It was a heavy silence, distilled over the centuries, compressed by the weight of the water overhead until it felt almost like a solid presence. It never allowed echoes. It deadened footsteps. Whenever someone spoke, the silence pushed back, eating the words up almost as soon as they were formed.
It permitted the slow drip of water, the soft scrape as the golden nautili made their ways through abandoned halls, even the occasional muted boom as a section collapsed. Those sounds belonged there. They textured it, built it up into something more than emptiness. The silence welcomed them.
It did not welcome humans. They made so many noises, strange and unpredictable noises that had no place this far below the ocean. It hovered over them, doing its best to snuff out their words until they gave up and left its halls, or, sometimes, gave up and stopped making noises altogether except for the slow, gradual sounds of decay.
Now, the silence was broken. There was a noise ringing through its halls that had no right to be there, a noise that it hadn’t heard in a very long time.