January 3, 2026 — 03:23 PM | Wave 2 — Time Remaining: 14 Hr 37 Min
The rubber rings on Gilbert's calf pulled hard. They made a wet, sucking sound. Pop. Pop. His skin turned into little hills under the suction. It felt heavy. It felt cold. Like a bunch of rubber mouths were trying to swallow his leg.
He kicked. He splashed the dark, oily water everywhere. His boots hit the thick muscle of the tentacle, but it didn't budge. His lungs started to burn. Every breath felt like he was pulling in lead.
"Huff. Huff. Fuck."
He gripped the edge of the pallets. His knuckles were white ridges. The wet wood slivers poked into his palms. He looked up at Malenia. He tried to puff out his chest. He wanted to look like the hero.
"Peradventure, my lady," Gilbert wheezed. His voice was a thin, nasal scrape. "The leviathan grows impatient. It stops playing with its toy. It wants a more... intimate communion."
Malenia looked down. Rain rolled off her helm in steady streams. Her cape was a heavy, dripping rag. She had been staring at the horizon, but now she looked at him. Her silence felt like a cold edge against his throat.
"You speak strange," she said. Her voice was flat. "First the yelling. Now this... talk. Why?"
Gilbert tried to smirk. It looked more like his face was twitching.
"I'm just testing the frequency, m'lady. Seeing what resonates with your spirit. Does the Alpha command your respect? Or does the gentleman scholar earn your favor?"
Malenia didn't blink. She turned her head back to the dark water.
The tentacle around his leg suddenly tightened. It didn't just pulse; it yanked. His hip joint gave a dull, sickening pop. He groaned, his face hitting the wet wood.
"I prefer the silent ones," Malenia murmured. "The man with the jar on his head. He wore nothing but a pot and his blades. He never spoke. He was easier to endure than you."
Gilbert's ego felt like it had been kicked. He bristled.
"In what way—"
The water exploded. A massive force snatched his leg downward. His greasy fingers slipped. The pallets vanished.
"AAAAAHHH!"
The scream ended in a gulp of cold, bitter brine.
Everything went dark green.
Gilbert tumbled. Bubbles shot out of his nose in a silver rush. He watched the surface move away—a thin, flickering line of light getting smaller and smaller.
Fuck. Hold it. Keep the air in.
He counted. One. Two. Three.
His chest felt like someone was standing on it. The pressure was a physical weight. It squeezed his ribs. It pressed into his eardrums until they throbbed.
He looked down.
He was face-to-face with the beast.
It was a mountain of grey, pulsing meat. A single eye, the size of a tractor tire, watched him. The pupil was a horizontal slit of oily blue. It didn't look like a monster. It looked like an old, bored god.
Gilbert's bladder let go.
The stress was a spike in his gut. He couldn't help it. He felt the sharp, salty heat meet the freezing lake water.
The water around his groin turned a cloudy yellow-brown. The mess spread in the current. It drifted toward the Kraken's pulsing, sensitive gills.
The beast reacted.
Its entire body shivered. The massive eye snapped shut. The black mountain of its beak clacked once—a vibration that rattled Gilbert's teeth.
It was disgusted.
The tentacle spasmed. It didn't just pull now; it whipped. The Kraken threw him away like a piece of spoiled meat. Gilbert moved through the water like a launched stone. He broke the surface and kept going.
He was airborne.
"HOLY FUCK!"
He flailed. The wind hit his heavy, wet body. For a second, he was a bird. Then gravity remembered him.
He face-planted. The lake hit him like a sheet of concrete.
"Malenia-chan! I'm back! I'm still alive, I'm—"
A massive bulge of water erupted behind him. A wave of grey sludge and foam pushed the raft twenty feet away. The thing breached like a capsized freighter—a slow, sucking wave of grey hide splitting the surface. Barnacles the size of hubcaps cracked and rained down.
The stench hit next: rotting kelp and diesel. The King of the Deep had arrived.
[LIVE FEED: UTAH SECTOR CHAT]
slc_savage: lmaooo he actually pissed himself
gamer_god_69: the kraken threw him back like a piece of trash 🗑️🤡
beehive_babe_99: did u see the water turn yellow??? im screaming
vile_virtue: Gilbert is a biological weapon at this point.
utah_momma_jen: that poor girl. she has to smell him now too.
provo_prepper_88: look at the kraken. its pissed. literally.
Malenia stood on the rocking wood. She didn't look at Gilbert. She looked at the mountain of meat.
"Brace yourself," she told Courage. Her voice was steady. "The water will be rough. I will return."
Courage whimpered. He hugged a wooden slat. "Be careful... come back."
Malenia didn't wait. She spread her tattered, scarlet wings and took flight.
She was a streak of rusted gold against the grey rain. She accelerated. Her blade was out, catching the dull light. She knew the beast would try to dive. She didn't give it the chance.
Gilbert bobbed in the water like a cork. He saw her zip through the air. She parried a tentacle the size of a redwood tree. She sliced. She spun. Her blade made a high, metallic whine. Grey arced in slow ropes where the limbs parted.
Another limb whipped. She twisted mid-air, wings snapping. Steel met flesh. Thunk.
The Kraken let out a groan. It wasn't a sound. It was a vibration that moved the water and rattled Gilbert's jaw.
"Courage! Look at her go!" Gilbert shouted.
He turned toward the raft. His heart stopped.
Small shapes were climbing the wood. They had the bodies of wiry men, but their skin was a sickly, pale grey. Their heads were wrong.
They were Mackerel.
Dead, glassy eyes stared from fish-heads. Their mouths were locked open, showing needle-teeth. They gripped the pallets with webbed fingers. They were silent. They were fast.
They were going for the dog.
Courage shrieked. He scrambled back. He kicked at the first fish-man. His small paws hit a rubbery, cold chest.
"Abluh-bluh! Stay back!"
Courage fought. He was terrified. His hands shook. But he didn't stop. He punched a mackerel-head. He kicked another into the dark water. He was getting agitated.
The fear was turning into a desperate, feral heat.
Gilbert watched. He remembered the pink dog trying to share a melon in the dark. He remembered the dog curling up against his leg when the store felt too quiet.
A raw anger rose in Gilbert's chest. It wasn't for the "Alpha" or the "Gentleman."
Those grey things were messing with his friend.
[LIVE FEED: UTAH SECTOR CHAT]
gamer_god_69: look at the fish men. they r everywhere.
slc_savage: Courage is actually throwing hands. go little guy!! 🐕🥊
vile_virtue: gilbert is just watching. Classic.
beehive_babe_99: wait look at gilberts face. he looks mad?
provo_prepper_88: he's probably mad he's not the one getting the attention. n0_h0pe: those mackerel dudes look gross as hell.
Gilbert growled. It was a wet, ugly sound.
"Get the fuck away from him!"
The words tore out. His voice cracked like a teenager's. It didn't matter.
He lunged. He didn't have the "Athletics" stats. He didn't have the stamina. But he had the weight.
He reached the edge of the pallets. He grabbed a fish-man by its scaly ankle. He yanked. The creature hissed as it was pulled into the brine.
Gilbert didn't stop. He hauled his sodden bulk onto the wood. The pallets groaned. The raft tilted.
He didn't care.
He stood up, water pouring off his 3XL shirt. He looked at the mackerel-headed freaks. They turned their dead eyes toward him.
"You want a piece of the Alpha?" Gilbert roared. His voice cracked again. It wasn't cool. It wasn't smooth. It was the desperate yell of a man who had nothing left but spite.
He swung the Bass Pro bucket. Crack. The plastic split. A fish-skull caved with a wet pop. Grey slime sprayed his face.
It tasted bitter and fishy. His arms burned. His lungs were on fire. But another one lunged—needle teeth flashing.
Courage looked at him. The dog was panting. His pink fur was matted with grey slime.
"G-Gilbert?"
"Shut up, Courage!" Gilbert snapped. He wiped slime from his chin. "I'm in the middle of a raid! Focus on your flank!"
Above them, Malenia was a whirlwind of steel. The Kraken was losing. Tentacles lay severed in the water, twitching like giant worms.
The lake was a soup of grey blood and black ink.
Gilbert stood his ground. He was wet. He smelled like a locker room and fear. His shirt was a rag. He looked like a disaster.
But he wasn't looking at the "Hidden Scenes" anymore. He was looking at the enemies in front of him.
The fish-men hissed. They lunged.
Gilbert swung again. He missed. The bucket slipped in his slime-slick hands. Momentum spun him around. His back slammed into the pallet.
Breath whooshed out of him. Stars popped behind his eyes. A fish-man grabbed his ankle—cold webbed fingers like rubber gloves. He kicked blind. His heel hit something soft. Crack. It let go.
The rain hammered down. The smog turned a deeper orange. In the middle of a flooded parking lot, a neckbeard and a cartoon dog fought a tide of mackerel-headed nightmares.
"This is..." Gilbert grunted as he shoved a fish-man off the raft. "...still bullshit. I just wanna go watch hentai right now."
More fish-men boiled up from under the wood—pale bellies flashing. One latched onto a slat with webbed claws. The whole raft tilted hard. Courage slid, claws scrabbling.
Gilbert lunged. He snagged pink scruff just before the dog went over. His arm nearly yanked out of its socket. He grunted, pulling the dog back to the center.
"Stay down!" Gilbert barked, his eyes scanning the water for the next grey head.