> Comfort the woman

You swim up to the woman, close enough to touch. She continues to sing her sad song.

You slowly whisper “It’s okay. I hear you.”

Nothing changes.

You get even closer, such that your face is less than a foot from hers. You touch one of her chained hands. The hand is on fire. You pull back your hand, and shake it in the water.

When you touched her hand, you must have brushed away some of the algae, and in its place a bright light glows out of the woman. The light’s like a spotlight on a stage, and it’s bright enough to blind you unless you look away.

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