Ch 205.
“You’re not from the Raven Association. Now tell me why you are here before I simply kill you.” Matt froze, weighing his options as he studied the creature before him. Its tentacles writhed with an unsettling grace, and the shifting colors of its skin seemed to pulse with a life of their own. He realized that if one of these beings were to appear on Earth, they would likely evoke sheer terror in anyone who laid eyes on them. With this thought, he flipped the perspective; perhaps they too viewed him as a nightmarish figure. The realization settled within him, igniting a flicker of empathy. If he could feel fear in this moment, then surely the creature could feel the same apprehension at the sight of him.
“I was sent here by Radoznaormr. The reason for my visit is to gain an audience with the Raven Association, and he informed me that your people could assist in facilitating that meeting.” The octopus-fish-man regarded him with cold eyes. “I know not who this Radoznaormr is, nor do I understand why he believes we would risk everything necessary to arrange a meeting with an outsider like you,” it replied, its voice dripping with skepticism. “If you wish to live, I suggest you close the hatches you opened and return to wherever it is you came from.”
“Before I do that, can you at least confirm what this building does? Is your entire world as desolate as this mountain appears to be?”
“I see no reason to disclose anything to you,” the creature replied curtly.
“My world is predominantly covered in oceans,” Matt answered, his tone tinged with urgency. “At least it was before we were integrated. I believe that remains true, but Radoznaormr indicated that trading water with your people might be of interest to you.”
The tentacles of the octopus-fish-man curled and uncurled in a slow, deliberate rhythm, each movement seeming to convey a silent deliberation. At last, they appeared to reach a consensus. “Wait here,” it commanded, before launching itself back into the depths of the building. Matt was left alone, the silence enveloping him like a thick fog, as he waited for over an hour. Rather than succumbing to impatience, he busied himself by conjuring two small puppets, carefully feeding them until they grew to about a foot tall. With a flick of his wrist, he sent both of them out to navigate the surrounding terrain, hoping they could gather information and paint a clearer picture of this alien world now that he realized he was undeniably interacting with an aquatic race.
When the octopus-fish-man finally returned, it was accompanied by two others of its kind, though to Matt, they all appeared strikingly similar. He remained composed, eager to hear what they had to say while scrutinizing the trio for any distinguishing features. The absence of clothing and the ever-shifting colors of their skin only added to the challenge of differentiating between them. Any hope that their voices would offer clues to their identities evaporated as he recognized that the auto-translate function would have to work overtime; the same voice he had heard earlier echoed through the air as what seemed to be a new member of their race began to speak.
“What is this about possibly trading the waters of another world that this guard is speaking of?” inquired the octopus-fish-man, gesturing toward one of its companions. This subtle movement confirmed to Matt that this speaker wasn’t the same one he had encountered earlier.
“My world is rich with vast oceans, and while I have no intention of draining them, I would be open to arranging an exchange—at least enough to fill this building several hundred times, if such a transaction is feasible,” he replied, his voice steady despite the tension in the air.
“Your world was only recently integrated, which explains your weakness and the fact that you can speak to us as its representative, I presume,” the octopus-fish-man responded, its tone dripping with skepticism. The three beings stood in a loose formation, their fluid movements making it difficult for Matt to discern who was speaking at any given moment. “Therefore, what makes you think the Raven Association won’t simply seize your world? Or is that your intention? If so, you should reconsider, for a world claimed by the Raven Association will be twisted to serve its purposes, regardless of what the natives desire.”
“Is that why the surface of your world lacks even basic plant life?” Matt inquired, his curiosity piqued.
“No, life never left our oceans,” the octopus-fish-man replied, its voice echoing with a hint of frustration. “We aren’t even truly native to this place; it is a terraformed world, and we were genetically altered to inhabit it.”
“Then why not introduce plants to your planet?” Matt pressed, his brow furrowing in thought.
“The oceans teem with life that is still evolving,” it explained, its tentacles undulating slowly as if to emphasize the complexity of their ecosystem. “Our role is to monitor this evolution and guide it to a certain extent, with the hope of creating new organic compounds that could be beneficial for alchemy and similar pursuits. This endeavor will take multiple generations of painstaking work, and even then, there is no guarantee of success. There are countless variables that could derail our efforts.” The creature paused, its gaze distant, before continuing, “One of the most pressing issues we face is the increasing toxicity of our waters. It is only through residing in glass domes and perpetually filtering the water through the mountain that we are managing to survive currently.”
“This situation is far from ideal, as we require salt water to thrive, yet the filtration process strips away all traces of salt. Consequently, we must reintroduce it, but doing so allows some toxins to seep back into our environment. In essence, within approximately one galactic standard year, our health will deteriorate due to this ongoing issue. However, if we can access your water, we could potentially extend our viability to ten galactic standard years. Provided we refresh it every nine galactic standard years, we might sustain ourselves indefinitely, assuming there are no complications with the quality of your world’s water. Additionally, we can offer purified water in exchange, which could be integrated into your planet’s ecosystem. Yet, this trade would gradually deplete your world of its salts, as we lack the means to replenish them without introducing toxins along with the salt.”
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Matt's brow furrowed as he weighed the implications of their conversation, his mind racing with uncertainty about the size of their domed city. It could either be a straightforward exchange or a logistical nightmare, depending on its scale. He reminded himself that he wasn't obligated to make any promises just yet; any agreement would have to pass through the Raven Association's scrutiny first. For now, his priority was to gather more information, using it as leverage to secure a meeting with them.
“I need much more information before I can agree to anything,” he stated firmly, his voice steady. “However, I believe that a workable solution exists if the Raven Association is amenable. Still, I can’t help but question why they wouldn’t simply rectify this situation by applying the same methods to another world under their control.”
“Cost,” one of the octopus-fish-men remarked, its tentacles curling slightly as it spoke. “You are new to this system, and if you have access to an emerging organization, it likely hasn’t yet imposed restrictions on what can be traded.” It paused, allowing the weight of its words to settle in the air. “However, this will change once your world is fully integrated. At that point, the system will cease to provide you with easy access to resources necessary for growth. You might refer to it as a tax, but when it comes to trading raw materials, the system will begin to impose a levy that could reach around 15%. This means that only 85% of the volume of any water traded will actually be exchanged. Such a loss is significant, as the remainder simply disappears without a trace, as far as anyone can ascertain. I had assumed you possessed some alternative method for exchanging the water, but if you are relying solely on the system’s exchanges, I fear that any meeting with the Raven Association will end terribly for you.”
“No, I have other ways,” Matt replied, a flicker of determination in his eyes as he considered the spatial storage shared between his two selves. “As for what it is, that remains a secret.”
“Then we will contact the Raven Association for you if you will wait here,” one of the octopus-fish-men stated, its voice smooth yet authoritative.
“Can I come with you?” Matt asked, his curiosity piqued. “You don’t need to worry; I should be able to breathe even underwater. And if I can’t, I just ask that one of you drag me out before I drown.”
This prompted the three octopus-fish-men to exchange glances, their expressions unreadable, before two of them leaped into the water with a graceful, fluid motion. The third gestured for Matt to follow.
Matt concentrated, envisioning the gills he had grown accustomed to through controlling the giant octopus, along with the necessary structures to support them, and felt a tingling sensation as they began to form. He plunged into the water, the coolness enveloping him like a shroud. As he was swept away by the current, he instinctively flailed, but the strong arms of the two octopus-fish-men who had entered before quickly caught him.
Looking at them, he noticed their tentacle arms were seamlessly connected to their heads, each one gripping the pipe leading into the water with suction cups that glistened in the dim light, anchoring them against the pull of the current.
The realization struck Matt: the octopus-fish-men must rely on their tentacles to navigate the entrance to the water-filled building. Indeed, they began to glide down the pipe with a deliberate grace, ensuring Matt was safe and not in danger of drowning. A smile crept across Matt's face as he concentrated, shifting his arms into tentacles that rippled with newfound strength, mimicking their movements. Together, they advanced through the pipe, and soon emerged into a space that resembled a research base more than a bustling city. Although it was comparable in size to the island where he had discovered the dungeon, this place contained only about fifty buildings, each modestly rising no higher than a hundred feet.
As Matt surveyed the interior of the dome, he realized that the octopus-fish-men were not the only aquatic species thriving within this enclosed environment. While he couldn't pinpoint an exact number, it was evident there were at least four distinct races present. Alongside the octopus-fish-men, he spotted what appeared to be genuine mermaids, their bodies adorned with shimmering scales that glinted in the filtered light. Nearby, he noticed others resembling fish men—humanoid figures whose arms and legs were entirely covered in sleek, iridescent scales, giving them an almost otherworldly appearance. Lastly, his gaze fell upon small, peculiar fish that sported arms which seemed oddly shaped, suggesting they were designed for navigating tight crevices and confined spaces. It dawned on Matt that each of these beings had likely been genetically engineered to adapt to their specific roles within this aquatic society. While curiosity tugged at him to learn more about these unique creatures, he decided it was wiser to remain inconspicuous, focusing instead on blending into the background and avoiding drawing too much attention to himself.
That was easier said than done, as he clearly stood out, even with the gills and tentacles he had added to his appearance. Initially, Matt believed the others would be too preoccupied to notice him while the three octopus-fish-men flanked him, guiding him forward. However, it took only a few seconds after his arrival for someone to spot him. The first to do so was a mermaid, who did a double take upon glancing their way. From her reaction, the awareness spread rapidly through the crowd, and Matt caught snippets of their murmured comments. Most speculated whether he was affiliated with the Raven Association or if he was a newly engineered worker. Others whispered anxiously, wondering if an intruder had been apprehended and what fate awaited him.
Determined to ignore their scrutiny, Matt was soon ushered into one of the buildings, where he was taken aback as the water enveloping them was swiftly pumped out. This unexpected change prompted him to quickly revert to his natural breathing system, replacing the one he had adapted to around his gills. A part of him longed for the ability to go without breathing entirely, but he knew that it was only possible when he went to the most extreme in survival scenarios when he converted his body to blood and tooth enamel. As he surveyed the room, which resembled an air lock from a spaceship with its metallic walls and sealed door, he set aside such musings as one of his guides began to speak.
“It seems that your body is quite adaptable; there may be much to learn from studying you,” one of the octopus-fish-men remarked, its voice a blend of curiosity and caution. “However, I wouldn’t plan on conducting such examinations myself. That said the Raven Association may not be as concerned about your consent as you might hope.”
“Thank you for the warning,” Matt replied, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “They can study me all they want, but if they wish to face the wrath of Radoznaormr for robbing him of his entertainment, that’s their choice. After all, I’m currently learning that lesson firsthand after doing just that, which is a significant reason why I didn’t dare refuse to come here.”
“Let us hope they know and care about who Radoznaormr is. However, for now, we will escort you to a waiting area where you can find some comfort. I cannot guarantee that anything we have will suit your tastes, but please, if you have any needs or requests, do not hesitate to ask.”
