“They buried her in salt and silence—but the ocean remembered her name.”

They buried her in salt and silence—but the ocean remembered her name.”

They thought salt would erase her. They thought silence would shame her. But the ocean doesn’t forget its daughters.

She rose again—skin blistered with sunlight, hair made of seaweed and wrath. Her voice was a wave crashing through churches. Her eyes held storms. She didn’t come to forgive.

She came to drown.

Now ships vanish without a trace. Shorelines crumble. Every sailor who whispers her name wakes up with salt in their lungs and a vision of a girl walking on the water—smiling.

They tried to bury her.

But the ocean made her goddess.