[100 Challenge] Ocean_14

Whispers of the Surface World

In the depths where light dares not tread, the ocean cradles secrets in its cold, silent embrace. Here, time moves not in hours or days but in epochs, the dance of life slow and deliberate. Bioluminescent creatures paint fleeting constellations, their glow a silent symphony of existence amidst the abyss. The pressure here is a sculptor, shaping life into forms unseen by the sun, where eyes might be replaced by touch or taste, where the very concept of color fades into a myth. The ocean floor whispers of ancient cataclysms and births, each rock and sediment a page in an unending book. Here, in the perpetual night, the whispers of the surface world are lost, replaced by the heartbeat of the planet itself—a rhythm so profound it could be the pulse of the cosmos, echoing through chambers of water and stone, a reminder of the deep, enduring mysteries that lie beneath our fleeting lives.