Wizard of the Deep Sea

"Before that."

I looked at the dumbfounded creature and asked,

"Do you have a name or something?”

[A name…? You mean a designation?]

It frowned.

"Yeah. We’re going to be moving together, so I can’t just keep calling you monster or creature.”

[Call me whatever you want. It doesn’t matter.]

"Then I’ll just call you Fishman."

A fish human. I didn’t feel like putting too much thought into giving it a nice name, so I just used a simple species-based label. It shrugged as if it truly didn’t care.

[I said do as you please. So, what do you plan to do after finding others like me?]

"First, we kill them all.”

[...Why would you do that?]

"To try and create that mid-layer."

I explained my plan to the confused Fishman.

"If the concept of the mid-layer is a region formed by beings like you merging into the sea and unifying into a single consciousness, then we should be able to replicate something similar.”

[Simply killing them won’t cause anything to happen. They need to fuse…]

"We’ll handle that by putting them inside your body. First, we kill them all and turn them into balls, then stuff them into your stomach. Something should change.”

[...Why me?]

"You said you don’t care if you die. I do.”

If the mid-layer is a collection of life, then it should be possible to recreate it using the same principles of the Abyssal Sea.

Hearing my reckless hypothesis, Fishman scoffed in disbelief.

[It’ll fail. It’s too forced. At best, all you’ll create is some grotesque amalgamation of us.]

"Yeah, honestly, that’s probably the more likely outcome.”

Just like one couldn’t bury random animals and instantly get oil, gathering these things together would probably just result in a pile of corpses.

But even that was enough.

"Still, it’s a plan worth attempting for someone at the very end, at the absolute limit, right?"

[According to whom?]

"The things down below. The point is to make them believe that someone desperate enough might resort to such a foolish, self-destructive move.”

[...?]

From there, I explained my real plan to the bewildered Fishman.

As it listened, its face twisted into an expression so shocked it was obvious even on that grotesque visage.

[...You're insane. Is that really the kind of plan someone who wants to live would come up with?]

"If you want to live, you have to be ready to die. So, what do you think?"

[Think carefully.]

Fishman answered in a sharp, warning tone.

[You can still die.]

"Is that a threat?"

[No, I'm explaining the advantage you have. But if your plan fails, that will no longer be the case. You don’t understand the value of being able to die in this hell.]

"Enough with the riddles. Just tell me. Can it work or not?”

[...]

After thinking for a moment, Fishman let out a slow sigh.

[At the very least…among all the methods I’ve considered so far, it seems the most likely to succeed.]

"That’s enough for me."

There was no way to kill something that defined the depths itself through normal means.

So, I had to do something a bit insane.

*t*t*

With that plan set, I immediately went to seek the cooperation, through force, of others like my buddy, Fishman.

Naturally, I expected violence to be involved, but that wasn’t the case.

"What is this?”

I stared at a giant clam with a bewildered expression.

It looked long dead, its shell hanging open while emitting decaying pheromones. I couldn’t sense any life in its dried flesh, so I calmly asked Fishman,

"Your friend is dead?”

[It’s not dead. You know what happens to things that die in this Abyssal Sea.]

"...Ah..."

Right.

When something died in the Abyssal Sea, it would get compressed by pressure into a small ball, without exception.

That applied even to things like clams. Come to think of it, this was one of the few times I’ve seen the corpse of a deep-sea creature that wasn’t reduced to just bones.

Fishman reached into the rotten flesh, feeling around as if searching for something.

It pulled out a deformed, unsightly pearl from within.

[This is what can be called one of my kind.]

"That’s just a gem. This thing?”

[It will be faster to show you.]

Fishman tossed the pearl into the mouth of a nearby anglerfish.

The creature swallowed it without thinking, smacking its lips, but then it began to swell.

[...?!?]

"What the hell is that?!”

It shrank down to the size of a fingernail, then twisted and warped violently, cycling through countless grotesque shapes.

[C-cough. Why…am I… still here…]

[This place...I-I…why…]

[No matter how I run, break, or fall apart, it’s always here.]

The anglerfish’s mouth began spilling out incomprehensible screams, overlapping and chaotic, until it suddenly collapsed and exploded.

-Pop!

...And what remained was the same pathetic pearl.

Fishman sighed at the sight.

[Rather than continue living as a conscious being, they choose death the moment they are born. Such is the fate of all who gain self-awareness in this Abyssal Sea.]

"Really? That sounds more efficient than I expected.”

The process did look quite horrifying.

But choosing to die immediately every time you regain consciousness after being eaten didn’t seem like a bad strategy.

[It is not.]

But Fishman frowned deeply, rejecting that idea outright.

[While in that form, that being has literally nothing. A sense of self cannot take root in such a state. As a result, it suffers for eternity.]

"What?"

[The 10 seconds you just witnessed are its entire life. It suffers for 10 seconds, chooses suicide, and then another deep-sea creature consumes it, and it is reborn. Of course, there is a long span of time in between, but it cannot perceive that, so it makes no difference.]

"...Then."

[An eternal suicide. Living, dying, living, dying…]

Now that I understood what was really happening, the scene looked completely different. I tucked the pearl into my pocket and asked, dumbfounded.

"Then why even do that? Wouldn’t it be better to live like you?”

[Because eternal suffering is still better than a hopeless existence.]

"..."

[One day, I will end up like that as well. That is, if this plan fails.]

After that, Fishman guided me in silence.

None of its kind were in a condition where they could communicate. All of them were broken and twisted, either left as corpses or barely maintaining a recognizable form.

The giant clam I saw earlier must have been one of the more intact ones. Thinking that, I looked at my now heavy pouch.

"This should be enough, right?”

I shook the pouch, now filled with various pearls. There were so many it was hard carrying them with just one hand. Fishman nodded with an uneasy expression.

[Yes. But…]

It took the pouch, then trailed off.

[There was no need to gather this many. Why go out of your way like this?]

"If we want to attract their interest, we need at least this much."

What we needed, in the end, was something that those things below would want.

If the beings of the mid-layer seek to grow heavier and sink further, then we needed something that could add to that weight.

"Defective goods are fine. Actually, it’s better if they’re defective. That way they won’t get suspicious.”

[...]

After a moment of thought, Fishman opened the pouch.

[If this fails, nothing will change.]

"Then I’ll just think of it as a midsummer night’s dream."

[Tsk.]

Clicking its tongue in annoyance, Fishman lifted all the pearls from the pouch.

And—

[...!]

Swallowed them all in one gulp.

I slowly gathered my pressure, preparing myself.

Feeding all that to Fishman and turning it into bait, something the mid-layer would want to consume, was something that could work.

But that bait had to be completely under my control.

Only then could I hide a trap within it.

In other words…

[...Prepare yourself.]

I had to defeat—

What was now swelling, sprouting scales, and gradually separating from its human form.

And bring it under control with my puppet threads. That part was entirely up to me.

[N-no…further…]

"I know."

As Fishman’s sense of self began to fade, the surrounding pressure slowly grew heavier.

At first, I thought it was directing hostility toward me, but that wasn’t it.

Realizing what that meant, I slowly widened my eyes.

"...Shit."

[Kraaaagh, aaagh…!]

Eight arms, and from each arm, countless tentacles, with murky eyes sprouting from every joint, stared at me.

At the same time, I felt the surrounding depth itself lowering, and I clenched my teeth.

'Don’t tell me this actually became the mid-layer.’

Thankfully, the increasing pressure stopped below a certain threshold.

It didn’t feel like the true mid-layer and felt more like something close to it.

Things had gone far better than planned.

Too well actually.

[....U-ugh.]

Fishman had now completely transformed into a monster.

Dozens of grotesquely swollen arms, with tentacles branching from them.

And those sharp appendages were all targeting one thing.

The problem was, it wasn’t me.

[Aaagh…]

"What the hell is wrong with this thing?”

The target was the owner of those tentacles. Fishman itself.

Even without me doing anything, the tentacles stabbed into their own master’s heart, tore at its flesh, and carved into its bones.

The attacks were vicious, as if it didn’t care whether it died, and they were lethal. However, every time its breath seemed about to stop, its organs and bones regenerated instantly.

It was like its mind was trying to die, but its body was too powerful to allow it. I watched in disbelief for a moment, then raised the pressure and sliced one of the tentacles off.

[...]

It was just one more attack added to countless others, but in an instant, all the tentacles turned to look at me.

So it could distinguish between its own attacks and someone else’s. I waved at the countless grotesque eyes lining each segment of the tentacles and taunted them.

"Looks like you want to die. If that’s your wish, come at me.”

To wrap my threads around its body, not a single one of those tentacles could remain.

As I formed blades out of pressure, the tentacles began moving toward me.

Seeing what looked like some level of intent or even intelligence, I cautiously tried speaking.

"Any chance you guys want to cut each other off…?”

-Crunch!

I adjusted the torn shoulder of my robe, ripped by the sharp edge of a tentacle’s mouth, and let out a sigh.

It seemed like it wanted to commit suicide, but not to be killed by someone else.