La Гєltima Marea — Г‰xodo:

As they detached from the Cathedral, the "Last Tide" hit. It wasn't a wave, but a heavy, surging pulse of the deep. The ship groaned, metal screaming against metal, as the current dragged them toward the Open Void—the vast expanse where no land remained. A New Horizon

The exodus was over. The tide had brought them to a beginning, not an end. Г‰xodo: La Гєltima marea

The "Ark" wasn't a ship of wood and animals, but a massive, rusted freighter converted into a floating city. As the final siren wailed, thousands of people—the last of their kind—scrambled up the gangplanks. They carried seeds in jars and memories in song, leaving behind a world that had become a graveyard of coral. As they detached from the Cathedral, the "Last Tide" hit

"The Ark is ready," a voice called from the shadows of the nave. It was Mara, the lead navigator. Her skin was mapped with scars from salt-burns, and her eyes were tired from scanning stars that no longer guided anyone home. The Desperate Voyage A New Horizon The exodus was over

They weren't gulls or terns, but strange, shimmering creatures with wings like translucent sails. Following them through a thick curtain of fog, the Ark bumped against something solid. It wasn't the jagged rock they remembered, but a floating continent of ancient, petrified kelp and white sand—a gift from the very ocean that had taken everything else.