Three long, writhing limbs wrapped around me. I felt the pressure increasing on my chest and heard snapping as my ribs exploded in pain and my vision turned white. I desperately looked for an escape, but all avenues had been cut off as sinuous flesh continued to surround me.

I screamed in pain and struggled against the powerful force of the tentacles as they wrapped around my legs and right arm. I could feel the ligaments in my arm throb in burning pain as they were twisted and pulled beyond their limits.

Sand and small pieces of rock had been kicked up from the ocean floor when the tentacles had begun their ambush. The lithe appendages continued to thrash around me created fizzling bubbles and small vibrations in the water. The noise from these distractions, combined with the distortions caused by sand and debris in the water, essentially blinded my new ability to perceive the world through the Fisher’s sonar.

There was too much ‘noise,’ too many distractions for me to sort through. Everything was just static blending together. My new senses perceived the world as chaotic, fragmented images that quickly overlapped and fused into a singular mess. It looked like an underwater blizzard if the ice and snow spun and howled like a hurricane.

I closed my eyes and breathed. My sight and other senses were useless, but I still had an almost perfect memory due to the increases in my Intellect. I just had to calm down and visualize the terrain around me. I drew a mental image, but it was destroyed almost immediately as a sharp pain shout down my arm.

Acknowledge the pain, but don’t let it control you. Breathe, focus, act. Again, the lessons of my father appeared when I need them the most.

I breathed and let my mind focus as I exhaled. Now I needed to act.

I could remember where I was in relation to the seafloor, and my ability to sense eldritch energy was enough to get a rough location for the closest of the tentacles. I saw a quickly changing group of images, but it took prodigious amounts of concentration to hold them in my mind.

I gritted my teeth, working past the pain. I could feel my limbs being pulled tight, threatening to dislocate as ligaments and tendons were stretched beyond their natural limits. I screaming, no longer trying to fight against the pain. I felt myself begin to shake as adrenaline flooded my system, somewhat lessening the agony.

I don’t know if it was terror or the adrenaline, but my entire body was trembling. I focused on it, using it as something to focus on other than the pain — it worked, buying me a brief moment of clarity.

I had instinctively activated Arcane Shield as soon as the first tentacle had shot up from the sea floor. The spell still held steady – my own mana being augmented by that of Fisher had greatly increased my survivability. The slight gap the spell created between myself and the tentacles was welcome but did nothing to lessen their grip as they snaked around my limbs and torso.

I knew the shield would not hold out forever no matter how much mana I had. I couldn’t win a one-way battle of attrition. It was also useless in stopping the creature from stretching my limbs, even if the shield did save me from being crushed.

I would need a more offensive strategy if I was going to survive.

I felt the moment of lucidity fading as pain caused my vision to blur, but I forced myself to remain calm – I needed to wait for more tentacles to attach themselves to me. For a moment longer, I had a plan but I would need to wait.

Just a few more.

I waited, letting more and more of the impenetrable appendages grab me. I felt the pressure on my torso and limbs increase with each moment. I felt like an overcooked sausage that could explode at any moment. Just a few more … each tentacle that grabbed me immobilized itself as clearly as it bound me.

The slimy flesh surrounded me like a ball of writhing worms. I became isolated from everything else, blocking out all noise except for the sound of my own breath and the pounding of my heart. The beat was growing faster as the pain threatened to overwhelm my consciousness. I couldn’t wait any longer.

My eyes snapped opened, narrowing in concentration. I let out a long breath, before slowly filling my lungs once more. The ritual calmed me, allowed me to center my mind enough to visualize my intent. I could only create that which I could see.

I used Eldritch Mimicry to copy the Arcane Shield spell, creating an additional barrier between the writhing ball of flesh and myself. It momentarily reduced the tension on my limbs, but the tentacles quickly readjusted their grip until the pressure on my joints returned.

That is exactly what I wanted, the harder they squeezed the more likely my plan was to work. I poured as much energy as I could into the shell of eldritch energy around me, thickening and reinforcing it with every heartbeat.

The eldritch energy had grown thicker the deeper I had dived. It seemed to flow up from the sea floor like a dark crimson mist before it then spread out into the water like a cloud of sediments that were slowly being dissolved into the water. The marine life hiding beneath rocks or buried in sand absorbed this dark energy, allowing them to gradually change their form and nature.

I pulled on the energy, willed it to obey me. I consumed and guided the energy as it slowly formed a shell around me. When the energy of the shield became too dense to be strengthened further, I bent it around itself to create layers of folded energy.

The swirling eldritch miasma in the surrounding water quickly thinned, consumed faster than it could be replenished. The energy flowing into my spell slowed until only a trickle remained. I took the final drops, squeezing all I could, before finally releasing my hold on it and grabbing onto the energy of the shield itself.

The eldritch energy within the shield reacted to my will, gladly calling out to be shaped. Its nature was chaos, ever-changing and mutable. My nature was to command it. I was the hierophant and I commanded it to obey, for a moment I felt the will of the Madness as if I were still staring into the all-seeing eye of swirling fire.

The shield expanded outwards as it changed into long thin needles of black and crimson energy. The spikes pierced flesh and drew forth streams of blood; black ichor flowed like hot tar. A high-pitched screech rang out, muffled by the ball of tightening flesh that was slowly constricting around me.

Rather than loosen their grip, the thick limbs squeezed harder impaling themselves and tearing free chunks of flesh. I didn’t release the spikes, instead of driving them in deeper. I twisted the spikes, once more changing them — this time into spiral blades like the head of a drill bit as large as a fire hydrant. I could feel the tentacles begin to weaken as more and more of their flesh was ripped away — slowly drifting down onto the seabed below.

I fought against the energy as it fought to escape my control, each moment taking more and more focus. I could feel my constructs fading, becoming weaker. Blades bent and retreated, until, with the final ounces of my resolve, they exploded outwards once more.

The creature would not relent, and new tentacles continued to appear around me as others were severed or retreated. They squeezed and pulled with relentless determination even as I fought for my own life in a battle against exhaustion.

I once more pulled the energy into a shell around me as I curled my body into a ball, trying to take up as little room as possible. The spikes and drill bits faded, leaving only a perfect sphere of black and floating embers of crimson light. I visualized the shell growing, pushing the shield as far out from myself as I could.

This created a bubble of space around me large enough that I was able to thrust my arm straight down without touching anything. I reached out with the six long ‘wings’ created by the Fisher’s morphic flesh, using them to anchor myself to the wall of tentacles surrounding me.

Finally, my mental energy almost spent, I released the spell made from eldritch energy, calling every ounce of energy I could grasp into my open palm. The energy condensed into a sphere of flowing mist, black and burning like a smoldering eye.

I thrust out my hand forming within it a curved blade as thick as my wrist and longer than I was tall. The blade cut through countless tentacles before emerging on the other side of the sphere.

I spun. Pushing outward as I used the anchored limbs of my companion for leverage. I struck out around myself in a perfect circle. The ‘wings’ on my back pushing as I twisted my body, the curved blade twirling me around in a violent and deadly dance.

A mist of dark ichor filled the water, dyeing everything around it as if a cloud of ink had been poured into the turbulent waters. I was blind again, but everything felt calm. Quiet.

It was the quiet stillness that preceded all chaos, like the disbelieving shock found on the faces of passengers in the first moments before they realized the plane was going down. A symphony of silence followed by the quick tempo of panicked desperation.

I could feel the eldritch energy flow out of the blood and seep from the slowly dying limbs. The energy flowed into me, and I could feel a fire in my chest that was slowly converting and filtering the energy — changing it into something else.

I could feel my body mend as the energy poured into me, but every fiber of my being still cried out in agony and my right arm still hung uselessly at my side. I felt dizzy, the darkness spinning around me as a buzzing echoed in my ears.

The mist was slowly beginning to clear, and I knew that I had to act fast. The creature was injured but not dead, and it was now more desperate than ever. One of us would act first, and I was determined to be that came out of this alive.

I dove downwards, leaving a faint echo of eldritch energy behind me. I kicked my legs with all my strength even as the Fisher pumped its tentacles to propel me through the water. I performed a perfect flip turn right as I struck the bottom, using the extra limbs for a greater boost — it was a maneuver that would have made my old high school swim coach proud if he hadn’t been too busy screaming in terror.

As the inky mist cleared, I had already covered half of the remaining distance to the fleeing creature. Behind me, several tentacles were attacking a vaguely humanoid simulacrum I had left as a decoy. A few tentacles had launched towards me as well, but their momentary hesitation combined with my speed caused them to miss.

My prey was just ahead now, and I grew hungry. Nothing would come between us. This was the moment to establish myself in the food chain, and earn my right to survive in this new world. I began to spin like a perfectly thrown football as the squid-like appendages of the Fisher rotated, propelling me forward even faster.

As the creature grew closer I took in its enormous size. It was an almost perfect oval and had countless tentacles growing from every inch of its surface, save for the two far ends which were flat and rounded.

Most of the tentacles clung loosely to the sea floor, with only a few retaining the strength to strike at me as I grew closer. Even these were beginning to slow — missing me by wider and wider margins.

I could sense thick rivers of ichor and eldritch energy flowing from the creature and diffusing into the cold water. Wide chunks and deep channels had been carved out of its flesh and a deep crater had been tunneled into one of the creature’s sides.

I didn’t hesitate. I drew forth as much energy as I could, even pulling as much as I dared from the Fisher. My companion hissed as I fed upon it, its tentacles slowly shrinking as I cannibalized its energy. I felt its resentment, but the creature didn’t fight me, surrendering its energy willingly.

I recreated a harpoon that matched those I used during the battle on the surface of the river. It grew larger as more energy was poured into it, soon extending to nearly three times my height.

My speed increased as I recklessly sped towards the creature, gripping the harpoon in both hands and extending it forward like a lance. I struck flesh. My arms exploded in pain and my left wrist snapped — but my aim was true. The harpoon sank into the crater in the creature’s side, digging deep into the exposed and tender flesh.

Every tentacle came to life in an instant. Each wildly flailing as they cracked stone and flesh — some even colliding with each other with deafening cracks. Thunderous booms crang out as shockwaves spun me through the water.

I cradled my injured arm, creating a new harpoon as soon as I dropped the first. My stomach and vision spun, and I couldn’t see the ocean floor … but the writhing black oval was still centered in my vision. I once more launched myself through the water, this time throwing the harpoon forward to race ahead of me.

I felt it pierce the creature's side and I watched as the massive form went still, it’s panicked arms falling like loose noodles onto the ocean floor as the massive form floated lifelessly into the cold darkness of the depths.

For a moment a deathly silence covered the world, only to be broken by a deep and sorrowful wail as the tentacles came to life once more. I could feel every bone in my body vibrate, eliciting a scream of my own as my wrist exploded in pain.

As I lost concentration the harpoons I had lodged in the side of the creature dissipated, removing the only obstacle holding back a thick deluge of blood that quickly covered everything in a sea of black mist.

As I watched the final moments of the creature my anger and thirst for blood subsided, leaving behind only a great sadness. I felt a kinship with the creature for a moment, and I mourned its passing. We both had once been something different, now corrupted irrevocably by things beyond our understanding.

I watched the monster, once a proud monarch of the seas, as its movements slowed and its many limbs grew torpid. In the final moments before its death, I sat in quiet witness — the only courtesy I could extend to a worthy foe.