David watched in silent fascination as another school of fish scattered through Marina's bioluminescent display, their silver scales catching the light like mirrors in a laser show. His stomach had mostly settled into a dull protest rather than active rebellion, though every sharp turn still made him question his life choices.

"You know," he mused, watching a particularly enthusiastic fish try to intimidate its own reflection in Marina's translucent tissue, "when Doc mentioned tentacles, I was expecting something a bit more... Lovecraftian? Less disco party meets aquarium tour."

"Excuse you," Marina's chamber vibrated with mock offense. "I'll have you know I'm very Lovecraftian. I just believe everything can benefit from proper mood lighting."

A creature that looked like someone had crossbred a shark with a chandelier drifted into view, its crystalline fins scattering rainbow patterns across the deep. David's ears swiveled to track its movement as it performed what looked suspiciously like an underwater pirouette.

"Case in point," Marina continued cheerfully. "That's a Prism-fin. Completely harmless unless you're allergic to interpretive dance. Though I'd avoid them when they're schooling - imagine a rave designed by something that thinks eyeballs are optional equipment."

Captain chirped curiously from their perch on David's shoulder, tiny paws kneading his fur as they tracked the creature's movements. The rest of the Cuddlebug squad had formed a tight cluster nearby, their usual chaos temporarily subdued by the alien environment.

"I know buddy," David scratched behind Captain's ears. "Everything's weird down here. Though I've got to admit, the view is..." He trailed off as something massive moved through the darkness beyond Marina's light. "Please tell me that was just a really big fish."

"Define 'fish'," Marina replied with what David was learning to recognize as her mischievous tone. "Because technically, most of what you're seeing didn't exactly follow the traditional evolutionary tree. System integration kind of threw that whole concept into a blender."

Another shape passed through the darkness, this one trailing whisps of its own bioluminescence that painted abstract patterns in the deep. David watched, fascinated despite himself, as the creature's lights pulsed in what seemed like response to Marina's glow.

"Are they... talking to you?"

"More like waving," Marina's chamber vibrated with amusement. "Though you probably don't want to know what that one actually said. Let's just say some of the locals need lessons in appropriate conversation starters."

David snorted, then immediately regretted it as the motion sent his stomach into a fresh wave of protest. "Fantastic. Even the sea monsters are trying to slide into your DMs."

"Oh honey, you have no idea. Though I've got to say, most of them are just going through the motions. Banter mostly. Something about the pressure down here really helps keep the ego in check."

"Speaking of pressure," David watched Marina weave between towering formations that might have been coral if coral had decided to start growing in fractal patterns, "how exactly are you navigating down here? Everything looks the same to me."

"Says the flying nightmare," Marina replied as her tentacles expertly guided them through another maze of crystalline structures. "Like you didn't think the same thing about flying when you first started out."

David's ears perked forward in surprise. "How did you-"

"Please. You think you're the first winged person I've transported? Everyone goes through that 'oh god everything looks the same' phase." A ripple of bioluminescence cascaded through her tissues, highlighting what looked like specialized sensing organs. "For me, it's all about current mapping and pressure differentials. Every depth has its own signature, every current its own temperature and flavor."

"So it's like..." David's wings shifted thoughtfully. "Like reading a map made of water?"

"More like reading a thousand maps at once. Temperature layers, current flows..." Several of Marina's sensory tentacles waved expressively. "Plus these lovely little guys that can taste everything from salt content to BO. Think of it like having a GPS made of tongue."

David made a face. "That's…gnarly. Though I guess I can't judge, considering I navigate partly by screaming at things."

"Speaking of things that scream," Marina's tone shifted to something more businesslike, "we should probably discuss payment. Unless you're planning to bat your pretty eyes and hope I forget?"

"About that..." David's ears drooped slightly. "I wasn't kidding about knowing things. Important things. Like how the Overseers are actually called Worldenders outside Earth. They're basically the Murphy’s Law answer to natural disasters - beings that can fight entire worlds solo and win."

The chamber vibrated with what might have been a snort. "Oh honey, I know all about that. Some folks in a crystal ship showed up during the end of the first wave."

David sagged. "Right. Of course they did. Well, how about-"

"Though," Marina's tone shifted with interest, "what's that energy you're radiating? My sensory organs keep picking up... something. Like static electricity, but deeper. Some kind of System enhancement?"

David perked up. "Wildsoul. You can sense it? Most people can't without a lot of work, I'm barely getting the knack for it myself."

"Hard to miss," Marina replied. "You're practically glowing with it. Thought it might be a Bloodline thing, or maybe some kind of specialized Evolution."

David perked up. "That I can definitely teach you about. It's basically..." He paused, considering how to explain it to someone with such a different body structure. "Think of it like having a second set of muscles, but made of pure energy. Everyone has it, they just don't know how to use it."

"Go on," Marina's interest was clear in the way her bioluminescence patterns shifted.

"The trick is learning to feel it first. Like, have you ever had moments where your abilities worked better than they should? Maybe during high stress?"

"Now that you mention it..." Several of Marina's limbs extended thoughtfully. "There was this one time with a particularly persistent kraken..."

"Exactly! That's Wildsoul responding to need. Here's a simple exercise - next time you're healing, try to focus on the energy flow. You should be able to feel it, maybe even direct it a bit."

"Well aren't you just full of surprises," Marina's tone turned playful. "Do you tell all the pretty girls about your body magic, or am I just lucky?"

David's fur bristled slightly. "I'm not sure we're exactly compatible. You know, being a bat and a Cthulhu-tier jellyfish and all."

"Oh please," Marina's chamber jiggled with laughter, sending David's stomach into fresh acrobatics. "Like a little thing like incompatible biology ever stopped anyone. I mean, have you seen some of the couples out here? There's literally a shark dating a coral reef."

"Please have mercy," David groaned, pressing himself flat against the chamber floor. "I'm already fighting motion sickness. I don't need to- HOLY SHIT!"

David's entire body flinched as the sonar pulse slammed through Marina's chamber like a physical blow, his ears flattening desperately against his skull. The Cuddlebugs shrieked in unified protest, huddling against his fur as he fought to keep his own sensitive hearing from imploding.

"Oh!" Marina's body rippled with excitement. "Perfect timing! Look over there, where I'm pointing!"

David squinted through the flesh that served as Marina's version of windows, but saw nothing except dark water and the occasional fish. "I don't-" He cut himself off as a realization hit.

His sense of scale was all wrong.

A ripple of bioluminescence painted the water in the distance, and David's breath caught in his throat. The creature hanging motionless in the deep made Claire and Herold look like hatchlings. Its body was vaguely whale-like, but wider, with multiple sets of flippers and a tail that could have flattened a city block. The brief flash of light revealed patterns across its skin that looked like constellations had been pressed into flesh.

"Holy shit," David breathed, his fur standing on end from neck to haunch. He had to consciously prevent his talons from flexing into Marina's chamber floor. "That's... that's..."

"Big Blue," Marina finished cheerfully, as if she wasn't currently floating near something that could swallow entire buildings. "He's pretty chill. Keeps this whole area civil, at least for Users. Random monsters still cause problems, but they usually learn quick."

David's mane had poofed out to twice its normal size, making him look like a particularly spiky dandelion. "Define 'this whole area'?"

"Oh, couple hundred miles in each direction. He's not super territorial, but- oh! Look, one of his homies came to say hi!"

A ribbon of movement caught David's eye, something massive yet serpentine gliding around Big Blue's bulk. "What the actual fuck is that?"

"Hmm?" Marina's sensory organs shifted focus. "Oh, that's just... actually I'm not sure what to call them. Think 'sea serpent' but with a better dental plan, no reptile involved, and anger management classes."

David fell silent, his mind racing through scenarios of getting Claire back across this ocean. Every possibility seemed to end with 'and then something the size of a small country ate us.' Though there was one mental image...

No. Stop it. You are NOT imagining riding Big Blue into battle during a lightning storm. That's ridiculous. That's... actually that would look pretty badass- NO. Focus.

Marina's bioluminescence dimmed gradually as they moved into deeper water, her lights fading until they were barely visible against the dark. David was about to ask why when he noticed them - distant pulses of light far below, rhythmic and somehow wrong.

"We're going dark," Marina's voice came as barely a whisper through her chamber walls. "As a bat, I'm sure you understand the importance of staying quiet when something bigger is listening." Her tissue rippled meaningfully. "Except down here, some things can 'hear' with their entire body."

David instantly grasped her meaning, pressing a wing against his gathered Cuddlebugs to reinforce the absolute necessity of silence. He watched, fascinated and horrified, as something moved through the distant lights. Its shape reminded him of illustrations he'd seen in textbooks of Cambrian predators, except those hadn't been the size of office buildings.

They ghosted through the darkness with agonizing slowness, Marina's movements precise and deliberate. David held his breath as they passed above the creature, close enough that he could make out patterns of spots along its segmented carapace. Each spot pulsed in sequence, like some kind of biological morse code.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

It wasn't until they'd put considerable distance between themselves and the monster that Marina spoke again. "Sunup, we'll take a break," she whispered, still moving with careful precision. "There's a large island coming up - you can stretch your wings while I catch a nap. Don't need much sleep, biologically speaking, but a pit stop will do us both good."

Her chamber walls rippled slightly as she added, "Oh, and if you need to adjust our course, you can talk. Just keep it quiet - I can hear you fine. Just..." Another ripple. "Maybe wait until we're past the thing with all the teeth, yeah?"

David nodded silently, watching as another set of lights pulsed in the distance. He had a feeling this was going to be a very long night.

Beyond the titan-sized arthropod, the darkness seemed to develop texture. David's ears swiveled constantly, tracking sounds that shouldn't have existed at this depth - clicks and whistles that resonated through Marina's chamber like ghostly echoes. The Cuddlebugs pressed tighter against his fur, their usual bravado completely forgotten.

"Those lights," David barely whispered, watching another cluster of bioluminescence pulse in the distance, "they're all predators, aren't they?"

Marina's tissue rippled in what might have been agreement. Her movements had become increasingly delicate, each adjustment of her tentacles carefully measured. "Most of them. Though some are just really enthusiastic about personal lighting. Hard to tell the difference until it's trying to eat you."

Something massive moved through the darkness ahead, its shape suggesting teeth and hunger in equal measure. Marina's course adjusted smoothly, riding a current that carried them above the creature's likely detection range. David felt the pressure change as they rose slightly, his ears popping despite the chamber's regulatory systems.

"The really fun ones," Marina continued, her voice barely a whisper, "are the ones that learned to mimic the friendly lights. Like that cluster over there? Perfect copy of a peaceful deep-sea sponge colony's. Except the real colonies don't usually try to digest you after saying hello."

David watched the indicated lights dance through the darkness, remembering similar deceptions he'd seen in surface predators. "Evolution's a hell of a drug."

"That's not evolution, honey. That's the System being an overachiever." Marina's chamber vibrated with carefully controlled amusement. "Though I've got to admit, it keeps things interesting. Never know if that friendly light show is a genuine welcome or something's dinner bell."

A sound rolled through the deep that made David's fur stand on end again - not quite a roar, not quite a song, but something that spoke to the primitive parts of his brain that remembered being very small in a very large world. The Cuddlebugs actually whimpered, a sound he hadn't known they could make.

"Okay," David managed, trying to keep his voice steady, "that was officially the worst thing I've ever heard. And I once had to listen to Claire try to sing."

"Just the local anthem," Marina whispered back, though her movement suggested she was being extra careful to avoid whatever had made the sound. "Think of it like a really enthusiastic whale call."

They rode the current in silence for a long time, Marina's bioluminescence dimmed to barely a ghost of light. David found himself counting his Cuddlebugs obsessively, making sure none had somehow gotten lost in the darkness. Their tiny hearts raced against his fur, a dozen frightened rhythms that matched his own elevated pulse.

"So," Marina's voice came so softly it was almost lost in the ambient sounds of the deep, "tell me about her. This friend you're chasing across an ocean full of things nobody ever asked for."

"Claire?" David's ears twitched at a distant sound, but he forced himself to focus on the question. "She's... complicated. Imagine taking the world's most cheerful murder-lizard, giving her a taste for expensive food and the table manners of a hurricane, then making her basically immortal."

"Sounds like my kind of girl," Marina's chamber rippled with carefully controlled amusement. "Though I'm sensing there's more to it."

David was quiet for a moment, watching another cluster of ominous lights pulse in the distance. "She saved me. Not just physically - though holy shit, the number of times she's pulled my ass out of the fire. But..." He trailed off, searching for words. "When everything went sideways, when the whole world turned into a nightmare? She just... accepted me. Didn't care much that I looked like something out of a horror movie."

"Ah," Marina's tone carried understanding. "Found family. The best kind."

"Yeah. She's-" David cut himself off as something moved through the darkness ahead, its shape suggesting anatomy that shouldn't have been possible. Marina adjusted their course smoothly, sliding into a deeper current.

"Sorry," she whispered after they'd put some distance between themselves and the horror. "That one's got weird pressure sensitivity. Makes going around it a real pain in the tentacles." A pause, then, "Speaking of pain in the tentacles, remind me to tell you about the time I had to explain to a group of surface refugees why you shouldn't try to paddle across the ocean in a bathtub."

"They didn't."

"Oh honey, they absolutely did. Had to scoop them up before something used them as hors d'oeuvres. Though I've got to give them credit for creativity - they'd rigged up this whole system for the paddles and..." She trailed off as another deep sound rolled through the water, this one carrying harmonics that made David's teeth itch.

The Cuddlebugs huddled closer, if that was even possible, their tiny forms trembling against his fur. David found himself counting them again, an automatic response to stress that was becoming habit.

"You know," Marina whispered after the sound had faded, "most people I transport are running from something. But you? You're running toward something. Toward someone. Don't see that much."

"Not running," David corrected softly. "Hunting. Something took her, and I'm going to get her back. Then probably murder whatever did the taking, depending on how cranky she is when I find her. And, you know, the general murderability of whatever did it. Can't bite the System. Yet."

"Remind me not to get on your bad side," Marina's tissue rippled with what might have been approval. "Though I've got to say, your dedication is- oh, hang on."

She fell silent as they approached what looked like a curtain of bioluminescence, thousands of tiny organisms drifting in the current. Slowly, Marina navigated through a gap in the living wall, her own lights dimmed to near invisibility.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" she whispered once they were clear. "Also horrible gossips. Flash the wrong pattern at them and suddenly every predator in range knows exactly where you are and how bad you annoyed them."

"The ocean is weird," David muttered, watching the curtain of light fade into the darkness behind them. "Beautiful, but weird."

"Says the bat with an army of murder-fluff," Marina's chamber vibrated with silent laughter. "Though I'll admit, some of the System's improvements were... creative. Did I tell you about the time I found a shark that had evolved tap dancing as a hunting technique?"

"You're joking," David whispered, ears perked forward despite himself. "Please tell me you're joking."

The first hints of pre-dawn light began to filter down from above, barely visible through Marina's organs but enough to start differentiating water density. David could make out massive shapes moving through the deeper darkness below them, like living mountains drifting through the abyss.

"Wish I was," Marina's tissue rippled with carefully controlled mirth. "Picture this: there I am, minding my own business, when I hear this rhythmic tapping. Look down, and there's this shark, must have been twenty feet long, just tap-tap-tapping away on this coral formation. Turns out the vibrations attract fish."

"That's..." David trailed off as something truly massive moved beneath them, its shape suggesting a huge shell and not much else. Marina smoothly adjusted their course and carried them well above the thing's reach.

"Getting close to our pit stop," she whispered. "Though we've got one last fun zone to cross. You're doing great with the quiet game, by the way. Most passengers start screaming around the time we passed Murder-Whale Central."

David's fur bristled. "Murder-Whale what now?"

"Oh, you know, that cluster of lights we passed about an hour ago? The ones that looked like underwater christmas trees having a seizure?" Her chamber vibrated with dark amusement. "Let's just say they're very enthusiastic about sound production. And digestion. Usually in that order."

A deep thrumming rolled through the water, different from the earlier sounds. This one felt almost mechanical, like massive gears turning in the deep. David's ears swiveled frantically, trying to pinpoint its source.

"Don't worry about that one," Marina's voice carried a hint of relief. "That's just the morning shift changing. Means we're almost to shallow water." She paused, then added thoughtfully, "Though maybe cover your ears for this next bit. Some of these deep-sea locals get really excited about shift change. Quiet-time is over."

The sound that followed made David seriously consider evolution's poor choices in giving him enhanced hearing. The Cuddlebugs buried their faces in his fur, tiny wings pressed firmly against their ears as the deep erupted into what could only be described as an underwater cacophony.

"Almost there," Marina bubbled encouragingly as she wove through the concert of horror. "Just remember - tap dancing sharks are still technically the weirdest thing down here. Focus on that."

David pressed himself flat against Marina's chamber floor, wings curled protectively around his Cuddlebugs as the noise reached fever pitch. "Pretty sure my eardrums are filing for divorce," he muttered. "Though I've got to admit, this beats Claire's attempt at karaoke."

"Now that's a story I need to hear," Marina's tissue rippled with genuine interest. "Once we're somewhere that doesn't require constant vigilance, of course. Speaking of which..."

The darkness above began to lighten noticeably, and David could make out the shadowy bulk of what had to be their destination. The island rose from the depths like a mountain, its underwater foundations disappearing into the abyss below.

"Home sweet pit stop," Marina announced, her volume finally returning to normal as they left the deep water behind. "I don't know about you, but I could use a break from playing 'dodge the big guys.' Plus, I believe someone promised me more stories about this singing lizard of yours."

"Fair trade," David agreed as the water around them grew steadily lighter. "Though I should warn you - some of Claire's adventures require a strong stomach to hear about. And that's coming from someone who regularly dissolves things for fun."

Marina's ascent slowed as they approached the island's underwater shelf, her tentacles spreading wide to catch the morning currents. Schools of more normal-looking fish darted around them, their scales catching the strengthening sunlight in flashes of silver.

"I'll have you know my stomach is literally designed for industrial-grade digestion," she replied cheerfully. "Though I'm more interested in how your tiny army handles being back on solid ground. They've been impressively well-behaved for creatures that look like they usually bounce off the walls."

I should hope so. Do other people have poorly trained summons or something? The Team has impeccable manners...except around food, thank you very much.

As if on cue, Captain stirred against David's fur, tiny nose twitching as they sensed the approaching shoreline. The rest of the Cuddlebug squad remained pressed firmly against him, clearly traumatized by their underwater orchestra experience.

"Pretty sure they're planning to kiss the ground when we land," David said, watching the ocean floor rise steadily beneath them. "Though knowing this bunch, they'll probably turn it into some kind of interpretive dance number."

"Speaking of landing," Marina's chamber shifted slightly as she navigated around a coral formation that looked suspiciously like modern art, "fair warning - this next bit might be a little bumpy. Most of my passengers don't mind a bit of turbulence, but considering your earlier motion sickness..."

David's ears flattened. "Define 'bumpy'."

The answer came in the form of a sudden surge as Marina caught a stronger current, using it to propel them toward a sheltered cove. David's stomach made its opinion known as they twisted through the water, banking around the island's natural breakwater with the kind of acceleration that belonged in a theme park ride.

"On second thought," David managed through gritted teeth, "maybe don't define it. Just... tell me when it's over."

Marina's chamber vibrated with poorly suppressed laughter. "Almost there, tough guy. Though I've got to say, for someone who can fly, you're surprisingly delicate about-"

"If you finish that sentence," David growled, "I swear I'll tell the tap-dancing shark where to find you."

The morning sun painted the water in shades of azure and gold as they made their final approach, the island's white sand beaches gleaming like pearls in the early light. David could make out dense vegetation further inland, though something about the plant life seemed off - colors that didn't quite match what he remembered of tropical flora.

"Welcome to Waypoint West," Marina announced as they entered the cove's calm waters. "One of the few stops between here and wherever-the-hell you're heading. Currently occupied by exactly zero murder-beasts, assuming you don't count the local crabs. Which you probably should, actually. They've got attitude problems."

David's ears perked forward with interest. "Attitude problems?"

"Let's just say they've been working out. And discovered religion. And crude weapons." Marina's tissue rippled with amusement. "Though they mostly stick to the north beach these days, after The Incident."

"Do I want to know?"

"Probably not. But I'm going to tell you anyway, right after we dock and you finish having your emotional reunion with solid ground."

David could feel Marina beginning to relax, her chamber walls starting to shift in ways that suggested he'd soon have an exit. The Cuddlebugs stirred against his fur, their tiny forms practically vibrating with pent-up energy.

"Just remember," Marina added as fresh air laden with unfamiliar scents suddenly wafted into the chamber, "no bathroom breaks until you're at least fifty feet from the water. I've got a reputation to maintain."