It's barren and lifeless in a way that is too familiar to the seas of Earth, except not even the occasional jellyfish drifts by this far out to sea. Antarcticite comes to stand beside Rutile in grim, respectful silence; at length, they reach out a hand as though to touch the dead coral, but stop just short of doing so.

"This is what happens to living things, then," they say after a time, breaking the almost sepulchral silence that has fallen around them. "When they die."