In the coral-lit depths off the shattered shores of the Sunken Spires, where ancient skyscrapers serve as reef and tomb alike, swims a figure known to some as myth, to others as savior. He is Dolph, the Oracle of Tides — a being of both man and sea, of breath and sonar, of wounds and wisdom.

Born after the Reckoning shattered the Earth’s balance, Dolph is a product of biotechnological uplift and deep-sea adaptation. He bears the sleek head and tail of a dolphin, but with a humanoid torso, arms, and legs — a form evolved not through nature alone, but by the sea’s desperation to survive. His creators are lost to time, but Dolph endures, one of the last of his kind.

As an Oracle, Dolph walks the line between the sacred and the practical. His blue eyes gleam with insight gathered not from books, but from tidal dreams, coral memories, and the songs of whales echoing through flooded ruins. He commands water itself, shaping it as both shield and weapon, and his ability to speak with aquatic creatures makes him a diplomat between worlds — fish, mammal, and man.

Yet Dolph’s greatest power lies in his healing touch. His regenerative gifts can mend flesh and soul alike. To be wrapped in his aura is to feel the calm of the ocean floor — steady, silent, and eternal. Many scarred travelers have emerged from the depths swearing they saw him in the gloom, heard his voice in their mind, felt their pain evaporate in the cool embrace of brine.

Despite his gifts, Dolph is not without shadow. He carries deep trust issues, born from betrayal by surface allies who once saw him as a tool, not a soul. His efforts to unify fractured ocean tribes and surface dwellers have often ended in disappointment — or blood. Recklessness simmers beneath his calm exterior, a dangerous tide he sometimes cannot resist. And his bluntness, while honest, has severed more alliances than it has secured.

He wears no armor. His body is his defense. And in battle, he glides with grace, his tail whipping currents, his hands summoning waves, his voice calling predators from the depths. He will not speak of his past. But the scars along his back — healed and reopened many times — speak volumes.

In an Earth now drowned and divided, Dolph stands as a living confluence of species, era, and ethos. He does not seek power. He seeks balance — between the past and what’s left, between rage and mercy, between land and sea. And if the broken world is ever to be mended, it may begin with a whisper in the water… and the silent arrival of a creature once born of man’s ambition, now driven by the ocean’s hope.