Chapter 6

You followed the sound and found him.

He was in that vast, empty space deep within the ruins, his back turned toward you.

The tentacles—you had never seen them like this—were twisting and lashing frantically, as if completely out of control. They slammed against the stone walls, leaving deep fissures that seeped with spectral blue light.

His back was covered in claw marks. Blue blood drifted through the water. Whether they were from his own hands or the lashing of his tentacles, you couldn't tell.

He heard the movement and whipped his head around.

Those eyes had turned entirely into golden slit pupils, with almost no white visible. Yet, you recognized him instantly.

*Go.*

The voice exploded in your brain, carrying a harshness you had never heard before.

*Go.*

You didn't leave. You stood your ground, watching him.

He took a step back. But the tentacles surged toward you uncontrollably—coiling around your waist, your arms, and your legs. The thickest one wrapped around your waist, pulling your entire body forward with a forceful tug.

Hot. So hot it was almost unbearable.

He fought desperately to retract them, but they wouldn't obey.

You saw the expression on his face—his brow furrowed, his teeth clenched, the veins on his neck bulging. He was at war with himself.

Just then, several shadows swam into the ruins.

They were of his kind. Three or four of them, in various forms. Leading them was a female figure with skin that shimmered with a ghostly blue light, her movements bewitching.

She saw him, and her eyes lit up. She swam in a circle around him, her gaze moving from his bare upper body to his frantic tentacles, finally landing on you—and then she frowned.

*Kaelen, your Symbiosis Period has arrived.* The voice resonated directly in both of your minds. *This human cannot endure you.*

He didn't look at her. His tentacles were still entwined with you.

She swam a bit closer. *I am of your kind; I am more suitable than she is.*

He didn't let her finish.

A tentacle lashed out violently, hurling her thirty feet away. The force was so immense that the entire ruins trembled.

He spoke. His voice was low and rasping, as if squeezed from the depths of his throat:

*Get out.*

The others exchanged looks and swam away. Before leaving, the female looked back at you—a gaze you understood: jealousy, resentment, and something else.

The ruins fell silent.

He still stood there. The tentacles finally stopped their frantic lashing, but they were still wrapped around you. Every single one was terrifyingly hot, yet not one used force—they just held you, as if afraid you would run away.

He slowly sank to his knees, his forehead resting against your thigh. The tentacles entwined you and him together, binding you as one.

You looked down at his silver hair, at the bleeding wounds on his back, and at those tentacles that held you but didn't dare to squeeze—

The others said he needed his own kind, not you.

But he had driven them away.

You raised your hand and placed it on top of his head.

The tentacles tightened sharply for an instant.

He raised his head and looked at you.

In those golden slit pupils, there were streaks of blood, agony, and a longing suppressed to its absolute limit—

And something else. You couldn't quite read it, but your heart skipped a beat.

He knelt before you just like that, his forehead resting against your thigh.

The tentacles entwined you, each one terrifyingly hot.

The thickest one was still wrapped around your waist, and looking down at it, you suddenly realized how small you were—it was wider than your torso, yet when it held you, it felt almost weightless.

You could feel his breath, heavy and ragged, puffing against you in rhythmic bursts.

The tentacles began to move.

It wasn't for healing this time; it was for something else.

They rubbed against you gently—from your wrists to your arms, from your ankles to your calves, from your waist to your back. Every touch carried that scorching temperature, making your skin tingle with numbness.

The suckers pressed against you, each as large as your palm. They suctioned softly against your skin, like a thousand mouths offering kisses.

His voice resonated in your brain, intermittent and so raspy it was nearly unintelligible:

No... it will hurt you... I can't control it...

But the tentacles no longer obeyed him.

They coiled tighter and tighter, their movements slowing to a deliberate crawl. Some began to suckle at your skin, just as they had during the healing that night, but with more force and greater depth.

Your breathing grew erratic.

That tingling numbness began to surge again, even more intense than before. It burrowed into your body from every point where a tentacle touched you, drilling deep into your very bones.

You wanted to push them away, but when you raised your hands, they ended up gripping his shoulders instead.

His skin was frighteningly hot, making your fingertips tremble.

He raised his head and looked at you.

Those golden slit pupils were filled with a longing suppressed to the absolute limit.

You didn't speak.

You just looked at him—at the tentacles, at this deep-sea monster who had been wounded for you, lost control for you, and driven away his own kind for you.

Then, you closed your eyes.

In the next second, the tentacles surged forward frantically—

They wrapped around your waist and pulled you toward him. The thickest one coiled about your middle and gave a gentle lift, hoisting you off the ground.

They wound around your legs, forcing them apart. Tentacles thicker than your arms entwined your inner thighs, the suckers softly vacuuming the most tender skin.

They bound your arms so you had nowhere to run. Your wrists were caught and pinned above your head.

They encircled your neck, gently stroking your jawline. Even the thinnest among them was as wide as your finger, yet its touch was so light you could barely feel it.

His lips pressed against your neck. They were cool, a stark contrast to the scorching tentacles.

In the next instant, he bit down—

Pain. You shuddered all over, wanting to push him away. But the tentacles only held you tighter.

Then the numbness flooded in—intense and overwhelming, leaving your mind a total blank.

At the same time, several tentacles were reaching downward.

They slid from your waist, bypassed your lower abdomen, and continued their descent.

You felt it.

Your body stiffened, trying to clamp your legs shut.

But the tentacles binding your legs wouldn't allow it—they held you wide, making it impossible to close.

The seeking tentacles reached their destination. Through the thin layer of fabric, they rubbed against you gently.

Your entire body jolted. A moan escaped you.

They did not stop.

The tip of one tentacle pressed lightly there, slowly tracing circles through the cloth. The tip was very fine, thinner than your finger, but you knew what it was connected to—the tentacle behind it grew increasingly thick, wider than your arm.

Another coiled around your inner thigh, suckling softly. The suckers opened up, larger than your palm, but as they pulled at you, there was only that numbing sensation, no pain.

One even finer tentacle slid slowly along the crevice, moving from front to back, then back to front.

Your breathing was completely shattered. You wanted to hide, but there was nowhere to go; you wanted to scream, but no sound came out.

The tentacles knew exactly how to make you go soft—

They would rub once, and you would jolt. They would press down, and you would whimper. They would probe a little deeper, and your whole body would arch upward.

His lips remained pressed against your neck, his tongue gently licking the bite mark. His voice echoed in your mind:

Mine... mine... mine...

The probing tentacles continued. One found its mark and pressed inward gently through the fabric—

You arched your back completely, gripping his shoulders with a death grip.

The sensation was too intense—swelling and numbing, radiating from that single point to your entire body.

They didn't rush to enter. They lingered outside, rubbing and pressing through that thin layer of cloth, feeling your dampness, feeling your tremors, feeling the contractions brought on by every breath you took.

You heard yourself whimpering, each sound softer and more seductive than the last.

You hadn't known you were capable of making such sounds.

Finally, the tentacle moved.

It gently flicked aside the soaked fabric and probed inside a little—

You shook all over. Your toes curled; your hips thrust upward.

The sensation of being invaded was so strange—cool, slick, and soft, yet moving gently, exploring. You could feel how thin it was at the tip, but you could also feel the thickness of the length behind it.

It didn't go all the way in at once. It probed inward slowly, pausing with every inch to let you adjust.

The suckers pressed lightly against the inner walls. You could feel them moving with every breath.

You were hanging off him completely now. Your legs were too weak to stand, and you relied entirely on the support of the tentacles to keep from sliding down.

The tentacle probed deeper and deeper, moving faster and faster.

The suckers began to contract rhythmically. One after another, like they were suckling, like they were demanding.

Your mind went blank. Nothing remained but the sensation—fullness, numbness, tingling, and an indescribable itch burrowing out from the deepest depths.

You heard yourself crying out, your voice broken and mixed with sobs.

Then you felt him suddenly hold you tight. The tentacles binding you were trembling, his body was pressed flush against yours, and his breathing grew heavier and heavier in your ear.

...With me...

The voice resonated in your brain, impossibly raspy.

You didn't know what he meant.

But you found out in the next second.

The tentacle suddenly lunged deep inside, reaching the very back.

Every sucker contracted simultaneously, vacuuming you with a death grip—

And then you felt something flooding in.

It wasn't a liquid. It was something more abstract—energy, essence, or something else.

It flooded in from that deepest point, following your bloodstream to every corner of your body. Every vessel burned; every cell trembled.

The sensation was too much. You felt so swollen, as if you were about to be stretched apart.

At the same time, your body began to contract.

It wasn't something you could control; it started on its own—wave after wave, pulse after pulse, tightly enveloping that tentacle.

You heard him groan. The tentacles wrapped you tighter. His teeth sank into your shoulder.

The flooding sensation continued, wave upon wave, overlapping with your own contractions.

You couldn't tell which wave was his and which was yours. They blurred together, submerging you like a rising tide.

A white light exploded in your mind.

You could see nothing. You could hear nothing. Only that sensation remained—too full, too hot, too wonderful.

You felt as though you were melting.

You didn't know how much time had passed. It could have been an instant; it could have been ten thousand years.

The tentacles slowly loosened a little. His lips moved away from your shoulder, gently licking the bite mark.

You lay limp in his arms, unable to lift even a finger.

The tentacles were still inside you, but they remained still, just staying there as if reluctant to leave.

You looked down. The tentacle wrapped around your waist—the one thicker than your torso—was now gently stroking your abdomen as if in comfort.

You could feel his emotions—satisfaction, ecstasy, peace, and a lingering trace of fear.

Those emotions flooded into your brain, mixing with your own. You couldn't tell which were his and which were yours.

He looked down at you, those golden slit pupils filled entirely with your reflection.

You could feel everything.

You closed your eyes and buried your face in his chest.

The tentacles patted you gently, like a lullaby.

Before falling asleep, your final thought was—

So that's what it is.

So this is symbiosis.