32. Electric Kraken
Having lingered too long in the sea of electricity, our bodies felt like middle schoolers who'd soaked in a warm bath for hours.
Utterly drained, we were limp, as if stewed into a state of total relaxation.
Our free will had shrunk to the level of subatomic particles, rendered useless. Escaping this liquid, this underwater realm, with physical strength alone seemed nearly impossible.
Then, as if someone had read my thoughts—no, I was certain of it—someone clearly peered into my mind.
I became acutely aware of it.
"…Who?"
The word slipped out involuntarily.
Jinri, wearing the same shocked expression, let out a similar cry.
"Where?"
Who could be reading our thoughts?
I frantically scanned our surroundings, but the entity refused to show itself.
It clearly wasn't outside the sea of electricity. All I could see was the massive silhouette of the control tower and the electromagnetic fabric woven by the fishbone antennas, swaying like a breeze.
Desperately searching for the presence, I engaged my radar and lidar across their full range, but it remained elusive.
Then, at last, it revealed itself before Jinri and me.
It emerged slowly, cautiously, as if stepping out of silent darkness, sneaking in unnoticed yet carrying an air of pretension, as if such timidity didn't suit its grandeur.
It rose from the electric surface.
A squid.
An impossibly enormous squid.
Half the size of the 365-story control tower—a staggering size for any building, but for a squid, it commanded an undeniable, overwhelming presence.
It tore through the tingling sea of electricity, its thunderous roar echoing across the vast Pacific-like expanse, as its round, Earth-like head suddenly thrust upward.
The impact engulfed Jinri and me in a massive wave, the kind a surfer dreams of riding once in a lifetime.
As its head slowly rose, a single, straight eye—previously closed—began to reveal itself.
"It's the power plant's Kraken!" Jinri informed me.
She likely hadn't known of its existence from the start; this knowledge probably came from the cutlassfish that had guided us here.
The sea creatures that had shown curiosity toward us had vanished in an instant, as if evaporated or discharged. The reason was obvious.
The Electric Kraken.
Their survival instinct, stronger than curiosity, had driven them to flee. To avoid becoming prey—tools for the Kraken's survival—they prioritized their own existence.
I found myself more impressed by the primal, protein-like instincts of these cutting-edge creatures than by the Kraken itself.
But the Kraken's entrance wasn't over. Its sheer size meant its movements and appearance took time.
The bigger something is, the longer it takes.
I learned another trivial fact.
As the Kraken gradually revealed itself, its single, closed eye slowly opened.
It was a cyclopean eye.
Unnoticeable when closed, it dominated 95% of its head when open, forming a perfect circle.
Its sheer roundness was terrifying.
The moment our gazes met, my CPU froze for three seconds.
I was certain it would shut down forever—but in that instant, Jinri's beloved voice thawed my frozen circuits, pulling me back with a warmth as inefficient yet heartfelt as melting ice with a hairdryer.
"Are you okay?"
Her gentle voice caressed my ears, and I snapped back to reality.
I answered, facing her.
"I'm fine. Thanks."
Bracing myself against the fear, I stared directly into the Kraken's eye.
Its massive eye, veins of raw pink standing out, looked bloodshot. Irritation, rage, or deep hostility—it held a fury so intense I was certain I'd never seen such an enraged being since my creation.
"Scary," I said, my voice surprisingly calm.
The lightness in my tone felt deliberate, matching the moment's atmosphere.
Perhaps reacting to that levity, the Kraken seemed to grow angrier.
Feeling ignored, it displayed the simple response of a primal creature.
The Electric Kraken revealed its eight hidden legs, thick and soft, writhing as if they'd be delicious if cooked. As it flailed them, the electric sea's surface churned violently, creating waves like a flattened landscape. Had we been on a ship, even the most advanced vessel would have capsized in the ferocious surge.
One of its thick legs swung down like a whip, aiming for Jinri and me.
We dodged in opposite directions, narrowly avoiding it, but were immediately swept into a torrent-like current, sucked deep into the electric sea.
"Jinri!"
Her figure vanished, and I searched frantically.
Voices don't carry underwater through speakers.
I sent out ultrasonic and radio waves, attempting telepathy. A response came back on the same wavelength.
"Yura! Where are you?!"
"Here!"
I reached out, and Jinri's superior reflexes caught my hand instantly, gripping it tightly.
The sensation of her hand in the electric sea, its voltage, was extraordinary.
Like humans holding their breath underwater, we desperately held back the relentless torrent of electrons and pressed our lips together.
We kissed in the electric sea.
As time passed with our lips locked, our vision cleared, as if we'd put on diving goggles.
The Electric Kraken's full form came into view.
Its leg suckers were all eyes.
But not human eyes—reptilian, specifically resembling those of a salamander.
Judging solely from fragments of memory, those sucker-eyes were unmistakably salamander-like, moving in grotesque, alien ways. They stared, as if devouring the entire universe, with an obsessive, unsettling gaze.
"You won't escape."
A voice echoed.
Deep, seductive, and refined, it was a woman's voice, resonating across the entire electric sea.
It spoke again.
"I won't let you live."