On the coastal streets of Vallarta Palma, California, a young man with slicked-back hair in a blue-gray suit casually exited the Gregory Aquarium on Mers Avenue, and wandered towards a small coffee shop at the end of the road, out overlooking the beach. The hearty sun rays reflected off his light-olive skin, the light material of his suit breathed out the little excess heat that his body created, and the oceanic breeze grazed his exposed hands as he gripped the large synthesizer case he carried on his back.

The sidewalk connecting the two destinations was smooth, only slightly showing its age. The small gardens in between buildings and on islands in between the roads blossomed with various seasonal flowers, delightful splashes of vibrant color amidst deep, healthy green. The young man, Jesse Herrera, gave upwards nods to every one of the few pedestrians that also sauntered around the city, and they often returned a tip of the hat back.

The subtle leather clap of his shoes against the sidewalk came to a halt as he stopped in front of the coffee shop, checking out each of the edges of the building, a relatively low-to-the-ground old building, but trimmed with modern, slightly-avant-garde decorations on the outside, and a hand-drawn blackboard depicting the seasonal Irish creme latte in a cartoon style featuring swirls and a smiling Felix the Cat knockoff.

"Ferris the Cat's Coffee?" Jesse chuckled to himself, shuffling the case slightly to lighten the load on one side of his back. "This could work."

Using his shoulders to open the swinging door, a small physical bell jingled, announcing Jesse's arrival into the shop. The line up to the front was not short–hip, young, twenty-somethings, each sporting a different tropical shirt and amount of tan, stood idly scrolling through their phone or conversing with a member of the opposit e sex as they waited to order.

Jesse did nothing in particular as he waited in line, content to just look around and enjoy the quirky, comfy atmosphere of the shop. A few bearded men in flannels and aprons moved with purpose in and out of a room in the back, loading new pastries into the glass display, each bearing a name Jesse hadn't really heard before, but seemed reminiscient of more familiar desserts. Cake… pop? He wondered. How would that even work?

"I can help whoever is next!" Another till opened up next to the one in front of the line. Jesse gave a little wave and walked over to the counter. The blonde girl sitting behind the counter gave him an expectant, but nonetheless warm, smile, accompanied with a "and what can I get for you today?"

"The… ah, the Irish creme, por favor," Jesse glanced up at the menu, pretending as if he was almost going to order anything else, "in whatever smallest size you have."

"Perfect! That'll be $6.35," the barista replied back without missing a beat as she tapped something into the tablet on the other end.

Jesse pulled out a $20, the only bill in his wallet, and placed it on the counter. "And no change, that is okay."

The barista looked at the bill, then raised an eyebrow at Jesse. "You sure?"

"I'm quite sure. Thank you."

Eying the synthesizer case Jesse was carrying, the barista flashed a smirk. "You must be quite the musician to throw around money like that."

Jesse shook his head. "Ah, I am no musician. Just someone who has learned to appreciate beauty."

The barista rolled her eyes, but still wore a flirtatious, playful expression. "Ah, so you're one of those musicians." She pulled a warm foam cup from the machine next to her and affixed a lid. "Well, here's your drink–hope it lives up to your standards of beauty."

He stared, probably for too long, at the smiling barista's face before returning a "yes, thank you", carefully picking up his Irish creme latte, and turning back towards the glass wall to find a place to sit.

The air, the sun, the pretty people, the perfect weather, the gorgeous view over the ocean… everything could not be more perfect if it tried.

Jesse was glad it was going to happen here.

Breaking him from his moment of ponderance, Jesse felt a hand touch his shoulder, and turned around to see a yuppie in a navy polo and white shorts giving him a half-grin. "Hey man, I hate to stop you, but I have to tell you–that is a really nice suit." The yuppie stared him up and down, nodding slowly and pursing his lips.

"Ah, si, thank you very much." Jesse replied, flashing a toothy smile. "I am glad that you like it."

"I do, man… I do." The yuppie stared down at his feet before raising his head again with an inquisitive look. "You know where I could buy a suit like that? See, I've got this interview for my dream job coming up in a couple weeks, and I've been looking for something to wear–"

"Asher!" A girl with soft features and a fluffy brown ponytail that sprung up behind her green visor popped up from behind the counter, across the room from the two young men. She scanned around, locked on to the location of the yuppie, and started waving her hands over to them. "Asher! Hey! Can you do me a favor?"

"One second, honey!" the yuppie called back from where they stood. He then turned back toward Jesse and smiled as he shook his head. "Sorry, man–that's my girl."

"It is no worries, my friend." Jesse patted the yuppie on the back and let out a hearty laugh. "I hate to be bad news, but this suit belonged to mi papá. I do not know where you can buy one such as this."

"Ah. Shoot. I guess I should've figured." The yuppie lightly punched Jesse on the shoulder, then sighed. "Gotta say, I wish my luck would turn around, though. First time in my life I've needed to buy a suit, and I can't seem to find one that works. Kinda was hoping the world would drop one on my lap." The yuppie chuckled, and then motioned that it was okay for Jesse to walk away.

Jesse stood his ground and looked deep into the young man's hazy blue eyes. He felt the weight of the synthesizer case on his back somehow grow even heavier. "Surely you see what the Skies Above have already given you, my friend. You are handsome and speak well. You are receiving an interview for a dream job. And your woman, the one you must treasure most, she is very beautiful." He tilted his head and brushed back a stray strand of slicked-back hair.

The yuppie blushed, looking slightly surprised. "Oh, um, yeah. Thanks man. Truth be told, I'm kind of trying to lock that down right now, if you know what I mean…" he said, drawing a circle around his ring finger. "…another reason why it'd be great to get a suit. And you seem like you'd know at least where to begin looking…"

"Of course, of course!" Jesse laughed. "But I do fear we are crowding up the front of the line." He looked back as a few bystanders idly twiddled there thumbs as they waited for Jesse and the yuppie to move away from the counter. "My friend, if you would like to sit down and talk with me, I would be happy to tell you of the best tailors over in Little Colombia."

"I'd like that, I think," the yuppie extended his hand forward. "As you probably guessed, I'm Asher. You?"

"Jesse." He with a firm grip, he shook the yuppies hand, noticing his skin was smooth and slightly cold to the touch. "Jesse Herrera. That spot over by the window work?"

"I guess if you really want the sun in your face, then–"

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"Hey! There you are." The girl from before had snuck up behind them and had her hand on the yuppie's shoulder. "Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen." She smiled at the yuppie and nodded towards Jesse. "It alright if I steal my boyfriend back for a second?"

"Absolutely," Jesse placed a hand on his chest and gave a slight bow. "He was never mine to take from you in the first place."

"Aww, you're sweet. Thank you." The girl turned back to the yuppie. "I'm sorry I have to ask, but can you pick up my dad from his surgery? Meghan says I can't leave early today, what with the new owners flying in tonight and all…"

"Oh. Sure, I guess. Right now?" The yuppie tried to stifle a grimace.

"Yeah… sorry." The girl pulled the yuppie into a hug, the flour from her apron coating his hoodie. "It's a huge help, though. I really appreciate it."

"No, it's fine… I mean, I was just hoping to talk to Jesse here for a little bit–"

Jesse cut off the yuppie by placing his hand on his shoulder and squeezing, shooting him a stern look. "No. My friend, it is no trouble. Go help your lover's family."

"…right. Right." The yuppie pulled free of Jesse's grip. "Okay. I'll head out. I suppose I'll catch you around, Jesse? It's a small city, after all."

"Perhaps, my friend. Perhaps." Jesse nodded and blinked twice.

The yuppie shrugged once and turned to walk away. Jesse watched as he meandered over to the long way out, the glass door near the front of the coffee shop. Let him go, let him go… he thought to himself. Don't get involved…

As the yuppie reached the glass, he raised one hand in farewell to Jesse and his girlfriend, and Jesse felt his own body involuntarily raise one hand back, and a sound rise up from his vocal cords: "Wait, Asher!"

The yuppie froze at the exit.

"Asher, tell your girlfriend you love her."

The girl looked at Jesse in shock, and Asher stood with his mouth open, frozen halfway out the door.

"Sorry–what?"

"What I said. Tell your girlfriend that you love her." Jesse's voice was authoritative, monotone.

The girl wore a confused look on her face, and she looked up at Jesse with an eyebrow raised. "Sir, it's okay, you don't have to worry about us–"

Jesse raised his other hand to motion for silence from the other girl, then nodded expectedly at Asher.

Asher, visibly nervous, with a slight sheen of sweat forming on his forehead, turned slightly from facing Jesse to facing towards his girlfriend. "Umm… Audrey. I love you?"

"I love you, too." The girl whispered back, gripping the front of her visor as her face flushed red, and she turned slightly away and sat down on the faux-leather seats of the booth, staring down.

Asher huffed slightly, shrugged, and then continued his exit, crossing the street and leaving the coffee shop.

Jesse, heart pounding furiously, fell down onto the other side of the booth where the girl was sitting. He grit his teeth, pressing the nail of his index finger into the joint of his thumb just to feel some sort of physical pain.

The girl, Audrey, eventually looked back up again, and over at Jesse. "…t-thanks."

"Hmm?" Jesse shook his head, shedding his cold expression, trying desperately to portray an aura of warmth once again.

"He doesn't… he doesn't usually say stuff like that. I mean, the whole thing was kind of weird, but… it was nice."

"Ah. Well, do not concern yourself. I do try to not ask such things of strangers, but as you can see, sometimes I cannot help it." Jesse chuckled.

"Mm." The girl patted her face a couple of times, then stood up. "Okay. I've got to step back to work, but, if I can get you anything, really–"

"It's quite alright, Miss." Jesse raised his latte up for her to see, then leaned back in the booth and up against the window. "I think I have what I need."

Giving a small bow back, the girl scurried over back to the other side of the counter, her ponytail bobbing as she ducked around into the back.

Jesse shifted slightly in his spot, then removed the straps from the synthesizer case and placed it on the table, putting one palm over the top of the case, and using the other to sip his seasonal drink. The sun through the glass mildly heated the top of the case, warming his hand, imparting a sort of natural sleepiness. The streets outside featured relatively few passers-by, and each walked with a casual gait of having no real place to go, just drinking in the rays and the cool ocean breeze.

The wood grain and dark, foresty colors that made up the coffee shop, combined with the low, idle chatter of the customers sitting around, helped Jesse lose the cold, dark feelings that had gripped him just moments ago and eased him into the same serene peace he had felt walking in. With his environment at peace, he began to reach once more into the depths of his mind, and initiated the disconnect.

Jesse felt the conversations of the people around him become no longer words, no longer sounds made by intelligent creatures, just natural mumbles, chirps, and squeaks that filled the air around him. The faces in the background blurred, losing their recognizable features, becoming mere pink, fleshy fauna. In the human-crafted tables and booths, Jesse could now see their true forms, trees and plants and ores and stone, a habitat shaped for these humble creatures.

And as the very world melted, Jesse felt it sink, and the salty oceanic air now became the ocean itself. People and their colorful clothes, each for a different purpose, now fish with different chromatic scales, desperately, biologically attempting to scare off predators and attract mates. The shop was just another reef, shapes in three-dimensional space that offered shelter, community. The water flowed around each of their gills, giving oxygen to all creatures, uncaring of who would receive its blessing.

Jesse also began to grow uncaring. He felt his coarse skin piece itself apart, layering and folding into their own tough, sharp scales, his slick hair coalescing into majestic blue fins that spanned down his whole body. His limbs fused into his body, as his torso thickened and his legs lengthened and joins to become a long, winding, vicious tail. As he transformed, the rest of the world rapidly shrunk, the reef around him becoming a mere floating snowglobe around his massive frame.

Everything was so small. Everything mattered so little. Every piece of their tiny lives, their swimming about, their ecosystem, the inconceivably short amount of time until they all died anyway… Jesse saw it all out of one colossal, burnt-yellow, lizard eye.

That's what had bothered me, he thought to himself, feeling the water rush around his gills. The self-involvement, the pride, the lack of gratitude for the beautiful things he was given in his life… Jesse blinked a house-sized lid over that lizard eye. He is just like me, before… before I knew. Before I realized I could become… this. Jesse kicked his tail and felt the curvature of the Earth cave just a little as he propelled forward.

How I would hate to be human again.

The world felt right once again. Jesse remembered who… no, what he really was. What he had always been destined to be. Jesse concentrated on the throbbing blue heart in the center of his body, and as he blinked twice, watching the real world flood back, he felt that scaly, massive heart shrink and embed itself deep into the chest of his very soul.

The coffee shop was reality again. People still talked. His hand still rested on the synth case. But with a deep breath, Jesse knew he had finally completed his transformation–and brought the Leviathan back with him.

And now, it was time.

He opened the synthesizer case, and sitting peacefully in the dark foam lay an assault rifle, cleaned and polished, its glimmer not hiding, but proudly displaying the slight wear on the paint around the trigger and magazine holster, echoes of its proud years of use. With great care, Jesse quietly loaded the magazine, and affixed it up into the frame of the gun, blocking its view with his frame and blazer.

Jesse tightened one hand around the long, perforated barrel, and another on the grip. Drawing a deep breath, he placed a foot on the cushion of the booth, then hoisted himself up until he was standing on top of that wooden table.

He didn't announce himself, but the crowd's eyes were drawn as he made himself taller than all others, and they noticed what he held in his hand. Gasps peppered the room as eyes widened for a split second, before someone, in a moment of lucidity finally yelled out, "he's got a–"

Pow.

Jesse stood with his rifle pointed up towards the sky, a bullet hole now leaking sunlight down from the ceiling. For one brief eternal stop in time, the crowd froze. Jesse cleared his throat and stared out among the tiny, inconsequential fish.

"O humble creatures of the land by the sea, I have searched and learned of my true nature. I am a Great Leviathan, one of the true gods of this world, and I have come to send a message."

The crowd murmered, some cowered, and some drew out their wallets in anticipation. All stared with great confusion and panic. Jesse studied each face of the fish, drinking in the worry, the regret, the fear, and closed his eyes in reverent prayer as he appreciated the beauty of the moment, before opening them back up again to see the girl from before walking up to him, approaching the table where he stood, and tapped his foot with her index finger.

"Please, sir, Jesse, right?" She looked up, tears begging in her eyes. Jesse met her eye contact. "Y-you don't have to do this. You're a nice person, right? You helped me out back there with the–"

Shaking his head once, Jesse cocked back the gun, pointed the barrel right at the girl, and pulled the trigger.

Her face still frozen in an eternal plead for her life, blood sprayed out from her chest, and Audrey collapsed to the floor. The shell clicked out of the rifle and clinked off the wooden table and onto the fake leather of the booth chair.

Jesse coughed and turned back the crowd, and screams broke out among the people as they scattered, toppling over each other as they frantically scraped to the exits. Jesse cocked the gun once again, and dropped his voice to a whisper, drowned out by the chaotic shrieks and furniture falling over. The sunlight from the hole in the ceiling beamed down sporadically on Audrey's face, as customers climbed over her body to futilely attempt their own escape.

"Hear me: in my own name, I damn us all."