The water feels heavy today, warm in layers. Light hides somewhere above, too weak to see but strong enough to change the taste. Each push of my tail moves clouds of plankton that flash once and die out. The current hums, slow and regular. Hunger does not claw now; it just waits for its number.

The System starts talking before I ask.

[Cycle Log Active]

[Biomass Total 6,620 Units]

[Energy Reserves 61 %]

[Integrity 100 %]

[Objective: 8,000 Units for Growth Cycle 2]

The voice sits flat, same tone as always.

The abyss is far behind. Up here, hunger is no longer fear; it’s maths.

I think show prey and the answer slides into view.

[Target Set A: Warm-Core Shoal ≈ 220 Units]

[Distance 2.7 km]

[Recommendation: Resonance Corralling Protocol]

I move toward it. The water clears around me; small things scatter. Every breath tastes like rust.

Heat shows first. Then shape.

The shoal moves as one creature, a thousand iron-scaled bodies twisting under broken light. Each fish as long as a human used to be.

I slow down. Match their rhythm.

The System traces faint lines through the water, predicting turns, noting where density hides.

[Acoustic Fence Initiate Y/N?]

Yes.

The hum rolls out from the ribs and bends the current until the shoal curves back on itself. They don’t know they’ve been trapped.

I press forward.

One pulse.

Pressure collapses their line.

They die fast, organs folding before bone. The sea fills with slow red threads.

[Biomass +5 Units]

[Biomass +3 Units]

[Biomass +4 Units]

[Running Total 6,632 Units]

I keep working.

The water thickens with oil and heat.

[Biomass +7 Units]

[Biomass +10 Units]

[Biomass +8 Units]

[Running Total 6,657 Units]

The System hums behind the eyes, counting like it breathes for me.

The bodies drift down; I leave half of them for the scavengers.

A colder current brushes the tail. I follow it until another shape appears: a pack of copper-bodied grazers moving in slow coils. Not worth much, but the System marks them anyway.

[Optional Target: Yield Low]

Ignore.

Ahead, a dense ribbon of ferric bodies slides along a ridge. I move above them, drop one short pulse, and their centre caves in.

[Biomass +18 Units]

[Running Total 6,675 Units]

The rest scatter. I don’t chase. The trench taught me that greed ruins the lane.

Minutes blur. Numbers climb.

[Biomass 7,021 / 8,000]

I rest, scrape grit from between plates, and check the seams. Armour holds. The hum stays even.

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The next strike comes easily, a narrow pocket of heat against the cold floor.

[Biomass +12 Units]

[Biomass +16 Units]

[Running Total 7,049 Units]

It’s all rhythm now: search, pulse, feed, log.

The Count

The System speaks again after a long quiet.

[Biomass 7,612 / 8,000]

Close.

Pain flickers through bone, not warning, just a reminder.

Another pocket collapses.

[Biomass +14 Units]

[Running Total 7,626 Units]

The hum in the ribs grows stronger, deeper than heartbeat.

I keep moving.

A cluster of glass-scaled fry drifts through. Their light confuses the rangefinder. I cut wide to avoid them.

[Biomass 7,713 / 8,000]

Heat collects along the gills. The next mouthful finishes the climb.

[Biomass +22 Units]

[Running Total 7,735 Units]

The organ in the chest kicks once, then settles into a slow burn.

[Biomass 7,782 / 8,000]

I know that feeling: the line about to tip.

The System warns politely.

[Minor Threshold Imminent]

I take several dozen more bites.

The shift begins.

Bone lengthens. Plates ease apart and reseal. The ribs stretch until breathing feels new. It’s not pain anymore, just pressure finding new shapes.

[Incremental Growth +4 % Mass]

[Resonance Amplitude +2 %]

[Integrity Stable]

Evolution has turned routine.

“The sea trades,” I tell it.

[Exchange Confirmed]

The voice sounds bored now.

That makes two of us.

The overlay flickers. One pulse of white. Then the noise. Letters blur and smear across my sight.

[ERR//]

A sound follows, soft and wet. Not code. Not metal.

still hungry…

The words feel inside the skull, not in the water.

I stop.

No System hum, no data scroll, just the slow drum of the heart.

System, I think. Report.

[No Anomaly Detected]*

[Continue Growth Cycle]

Too quick. Too tidy.

Something hides in the gap between its words.

I move upward into colder flow, hoping pressure will wash the noise out. A pod of translucent feeders crosses. I watch them instead of eating. Their bodies glow from the inside, each one carrying a pulse that matches mine for a second before sliding away.

The echo returns anyway, thin and human.

still hungry…

I fire a pulse through the dark to drown it. The shock kills small things I can’t see. The water flares white, then falls silent.

[Collateral Loss Minor]

[Biomass + X Units]

[Growth Cycle Total 7,081 / 8,000]

[Advisory → Maintain Efficiency]

I chew fast, like eating can bury a sound.

When it’s quiet again, the body feels heavier. Longer. The hum has deepened; the plates fit better.

[Biomass Threshold Reached]

[Resonance Output 8.1 Hz → 8.4 Hz]

Above me, faint silver leaks through the haze. I can almost taste light, salt and heat.

The abyss fed me numbers, I say. What will the light feed?

[Directive: Ascend Through Twilight | Complete Survey]

The System’s tone is calm again. Maybe it never noticed the glitch. Maybe it did and doesn’t want me to ask.

I start climbing. Each kick sends a slow tremor through the blue. Below, the feeding field dims until it’s just a stain.

Halfway up the slope, I pass a Lumen veil. Thin threads of light drift from it like tentacles. Small fish hide there, feeding. They scatter when my hum brushes them.

Everything here listens. Everything speaks.

The System marks new readings.

[Environmental Response Positive]

[Microfauna Reaction Logged]

I ignore the numbers for once.

A click inside the skull, like a loose plate. Then that same whisper, quieter now but clearer.

not enough…

I stop moving. The sound repeats, trailing static like bubbles. It doesn’t come from outside. It’s buried under the System’s hum.

I think, identify the origin.

No answer. Just the regular metrics returning, calm and deliberate.

[Cycle Stability Restored]

Maybe it’s memory leaking. Maybe it’s something the System caught and won’t name. Either way, it sounds too much like a person.

I dive a few hundred metres to see if pressure will crush it. The voice follows until my bones start to ring, then fades.

Down here, the water is clean again.

Numbers rebuild themselves like tide marks.

[Biomass +7 Units]

[Biomass +13 Units]

I stay until calm comes back, then rise again.

The sea brightens. The hum from my chest runs ahead of me and comes back softer. It means the water is thinning. The trench’s pull has stopped caring.

[Integrity 100 %]

The new size fits. The power sits under the skin instead of spilling past it.

I stretch once, slowly, to test the shape.

A small lane of glass fry curves around me. They flash once, showing my shadow in their scales, then reform into a ball and drift off. Even they seem to know I am something different now.

[Biomass 7,936 / 8,000]

Close enough. The System keeps adding decimals I don’t need.

I turn upward. The roof of the world leaks light like dust through a crack.

Each breath feels lighter.

The whisper comes again, weak and distant.

not enough… not yet…

I don’t answer. Talking to ghosts makes them stay.

The water goes still. Only the tail moves.

The System closes the record.

[Growth Cycle 33 Complete]

[Biomass Reset 0 / 8,000]

[Integrity Full]

[Observation: Subject Motivation Consumption Rate]

No sermon this time, just data.

I let the numbers fade and look up.

The trench below has become shadowy. The path ahead runs through a lighter blue.

The light smells clean, like rain.

Maybe that voice belongs to the old part of me that counted by days instead of kills. Maybe the System learned it from me and doesn’t know how to shut it off.

Either way, the sound waits somewhere above, and I’m going to find out which it is.

I flick the tail and climb. Pressure drops. The hum inside shifts key.

Behind me, the feeding grounds settle. The current smooths itself and forgets my shape.

Up ahead, the sea opens.