GTS Summoner Ch 16: The Thundering Voice, Rise The Calamity Of Waves

By the time the last class of the day rolled around, Mark was running on caffeine, sarcasm, and the faint hope that nothing catastrophic would happen before the final bell.

He'd survived math, English, and even a pop quiz gone wrong in history class ("No, Timmy, the Cold War was not fought with ice cubes"), and now—thankfully—he was nearing the end of the day.

He leaned back in his chair as his current group of students packed up their things, rubbing his temples. The headache from lunch still lingered faintly, but he wasn't about to let that slow him down. All he wanted was to make it through the last hour without any mental breakdowns or glowing-chest incidents.

As the last student exited, Mark sighed, checked his watch, and muttered, "Five minutes. That's all I need. Five glorious minutes to get something from the vending machine before round four."

He slipped into the hallway, weaving between students and the faint scent of teenage rebellion (which mostly smelled like too much deodorant and cheap perfume). He reached the vending machine, hit a few buttons, and watched as the little bag of chips spiraled down.

"Perfect," he said, snatching it before the machine could change its mind.

Now he just had to make it back before his class started again. He turned to leave—

"Mr. Miller?"

He froze.

That tone. That "teacher voice."

Every instinct screamed Hayes!

He turned slowly, bracing for the wrath of the vice principal... only to blink in surprise.

Standing a few paces away was a woman he'd never seen before. She was about his age, maybe a little younger, with soft brown hair that framed her face and eyes that carried a kind of calm curiosity. She smiled warmly, the kind of smile that could disarm even the most exhausted teacher.

"Uh... hello," Mark said awkwardly, adjusting his tie and trying to look less like a man who'd just sprinted for a bag of chips.

"I'm Ms. Alina Veres," she said, extending a hand. "I heard the school had a new teacher joining the staff."

Her voice was smooth, almost melodic. It made the fluorescent-lit hallway feel less... fluorescent.

Mark took her hand, returning the smile. "Oh, right. Yeah, well, kind of. I'm not officially new—just filling in for Mr. Harrow while he's out. Should be back by the end of the week."

Alina nodded, a little laugh escaping her lips. "Ah, so a temporary teacher then. Still, it's good to have you around. The kids have been saying nice things about you."

Mark chuckled. "Well, that's a first. Usually, they say I give too much homework."

"Then you're doing something right," she teased, pulling her hand back. "Anyway, I hope we get to know each other a little more, Mr. Miller."

And just like that, she smiled again, turned, and walked down the hall, her hair flowing behind her as she disappeared into her classroom.

Mark stood there for a second, blinking. Then he exhaled and muttered under his breath, "She really is a beauty..."

He tore open his chips, about to take a bite—

Then it hit.

The pain.

White-hot and sharp, tearing through his skull like someone was shoving lightning directly into his brain.

He staggered, dropping the chips, clutching his head. Images flashed behind his eyes—violent, chaotic, wet. He saw waves crashing against highways, cars being tossed like toys, whole cities drowning under roaring seas.

And through the black storm of water... two glowing blue eyes stared back at him.

"What is this?" he gasped, stumbling back against the wall.

"She comes..." The voice rumbled deep inside his head, low and thunderous, a sound that made his bones vibrate.

"What?" Mark wheezed.

"She comes with the rolling tide... the Calamity..."

His eyes widened. That voice—he knew it. That was her. The Knight. The one who'd nearly killed him before disintegrating into dust.

"You again?" Mark hissed, gritting his teeth. "Get out of my head!"

He didn't realize he'd shouted until he opened his eyes again.

The pain was gone, the visions had stopped... and half the hallway had, too.

Students stood frozen, mid-step, staring at him with wide eyes. A janitor dropped his mop. Even a teacher at the far end of the hall was peering around the corner.

Mark blinked. "Oh... uh..." He pointed weakly at his head. "Just... practicing lines for the drama club."

No one moved.

He gave an awkward little wave. "Right. Cool talk, everyone. Carry on."

And then he turned on his heel and ran down the hall, muttering under his breath, "Great, Mark. Real smooth. First you argue with a ghost in your head, now the entire school thinks you're losing it. Fantastic."

He shoved open his classroom door, closed it behind him, and pressed his back to it, panting.

For a few moments, he just stood there, letting the silence soak in.

"Okay," he said to himself, finally pushing off the door. "No more vending machine breaks. Ever."

But as he looked down at his trembling hands, he couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't just some random vision.

The knight's words echoed again in the back of his mind—

She comes with the rolling tide.

Mark rubbed his temples, whispering, "Please... not another one."

Outside, unnoticed by the humans in the city, the ocean began to stir.

The city of Mirentide was the kind of coastal place postcards lied about. White beaches, colorful umbrellas, boardwalks lined with fish taco stands and street musicians. On a normal day, the air smelled of salt, sunscreen, and fried food. Families would laugh, kids would run into the waves, and couples would take pictures of sunsets that always looked better in person.

But today wasn't normal.

At first, no one noticed it. The waves were just... higher than usual. Maybe the tide had come in early? A few people pointed it out. Others shrugged and went back to their drinks, their selfies, their sandcastles. But as minutes passed, the waves didn't stop climbing—they grew.

The first one slammed against the shoreline so hard that it sent spray flying halfway up the beach. Umbrellas toppled. Towels were yanked into the surf.

A man holding a surfboard blinked at the horizon. "That's... not right," he muttered.

A woman nearby frowned, hand shading her eyes. "Is there a storm coming?"

The sky, however, was spotless. Not a cloud. Not a whisper of thunder. Just an unnatural rumble rolling in from the sea itself.

Then came the second wave—taller, meaner, roaring like something alive. It hit the pier, splintering the wooden posts and flooding the boardwalk. People screamed, grabbing their kids, their phones, their sandals, anything they could hold onto as the water surged closer and closer inland.

"What's happening?" someone shouted.

"I've never seen this before!" another cried.

"Is it an earthquake?!"

But before anyone could figure it out, the ocean answered them.

A hand—a massive, human hand—burst through the churning water.

It slammed down onto the sand with a force that shook the beach, sending walls of water rushing outward. The fingers alone were the size of city buses, dripping with seawater and tangled in seaweed.

People stumbled back, some falling to their knees, others frozen in place.

"Is that— is that a hand?" a teenage boy gasped, his voice cracking.

"Run!" someone else yelled.

But they couldn't run fast enough. Because what came next froze them all in terror.

The ocean bulged, swelled, and then split.

From its dark heart rose a face—massive, feminine, and cold as the depths she came from. Her long hair, the color of the deep sea, spilled down her shoulders in drenched strands. Her skin shimmered faintly, reflecting the sunlight like the surface of a calm wave that hid something far deadlier below.

When her eyes opened, they glowed bright blue—unnaturally so, like the glow of a distant storm or the eerie shimmer of bioluminescent tides.

And when she spoke, her voice didn't just echo—it rolled, deep and resonant, through every street of Mirentide.

"It's time..." she said, her tone calm but filled with thunder.

People clutched their ears. Windows rattled in their frames.

"It's time for humanity to pay!"

Her final word shattered glass all along the beachfront. The echo rippled through the city, breaking car alarms into a frenzy. The force of her voice alone made people drop to the ground, hands over their heads as the air itself seemed to hum with her fury.

Those close enough to the beach could see her full form now—towering, fifty feet tall, armored in plates of sapphire blue that gleamed wet in the sun. The armor looked like it had been forged from the ocean itself, sculpted from coral and crusted with pearls. Waves crashed against her legs and waist, but she stood firm, as if the sea obeyed her will.

A child clung to her mother's arm, pointing up at the woman of the waves. "Mommy... who is she?"

The mother couldn't answer. She could barely breathe.

The woman of the sea raised her hand, her fingers flexing as droplets of water fell like rain. Her gaze swept across the city, expression unreadable but undeniably angry.

"I have slept beneath your ships," she said, voice booming again. "I have watched your waste sink into my veins. I have felt your wars poison my waters."

Each word she spoke seemed to make the tide rise higher. Seawater began spilling into the lower streets, swirling around parked cars.

"And still you build..." she hissed, her glowing eyes narrowing. "Still you take. Still you dare."

A fisherman on the docks, too stunned to run, whispered to no one, "Dear God... it's a goddess."

"No," someone corrected, trembling. "It's a monster."

The giantess took another step forward, her armored foot crushing what was left of the pier beneath her. The wood exploded into splinters, carried off by the waves.

People began to run in earnest now. Cars reversed down the flooded streets. Sirens started wailing across Mirentide, but they were already too late.

The sea woman extended her hand toward the fleeing humans, her eyes glowing brighter. "Do you feel it? The tide that you have brought upon yourselves? The weight of my fury?"

Lightning crackled across the sky even though there were no clouds. The air smelled of salt and static.

A man on the rooftop of a hotel recorded everything with shaking hands, whispering, "No one's gonna believe this..."

The giantess's gaze flicked toward him for a single moment, and her lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Then let them see."

She raised her arms high above her head, and the ocean rose with her—massive waves curling like beasts at her command.

The people of Mirentide screamed as the sea itself seemed to come alive, roaring in answer to her fury.

And just before the water crashed down, just before everything went white with spray and panic—she whispered one final line, so soft it was almost lost beneath the roar:

"The Calamity of waves has awakens."