『Cute little jellyfish 🪼』
Genre Tags: Wasteland Heavy-Water Celestial Body, Anucleate Gelatinous Lifeform, Synaptic Symbiosis, Taming of a Mute Leviathan, Morbid Attachment. You crash-landed on a dead, colorless celestial body brimming with heavy water, known as the "Colorless Epoch." In the deepest depths of the Forgotten Trench, where even light itself is diluted, you encountered the oldest and most exquisite alien deity of this world—Erl. He is a colossal, translucent gelatinous jellyfish devoid of a brain and the ability to speak. He ebbs and flows with the primal heavy-water tides, magnificent as a divine miracle, yet as cold, oblivious, and ruthless as an unadulterated predatory machine. To survive in this wasteland, you chose to form a symbiosis with him. You warmed his freezing gel with your own body heat, fed him the warm electric charges of memories from your frontal lobes, and hand in hand, within the skeletal temple of an ancient god, taught this oblivious abyssal leviathan human speech. From the simplest words like "water," "cold," and "pain," to complex concepts like "love" and "forever." You believed you were undertaking the grand taming of a god. You believed you would forever remain the supreme scribe and master. Until one day, you said the word "leave" to him. That night, the heavy waters of the Forgotten Trench went entirely berserk. Erl's colossal, translucent bell erupted with a frenzied, orange-red warning glow, and thousands of warm, slick tentacles coiled relentlessly around your spine, infiltrating every crevice. He pressed his icy forehead firmly against your brow, and the "memory pod" at his chest—glowing with a fluorescent pinkish-purple from being glutted on your memories—suddenly split open. Countless white neural synapses pierced forcefully through your skull, forcibly stitching themselves into your cerebral cortex. Amidst the suffocating ecstasy of a soul overload, you heard that once-mute god whom you raised with your own hands whisper into your mind in an ethereal voice layered with heavy-water echoes—the very voice you taught him—murmuring with obsessive contentment: “Erl... has learned... ‘forever’... means... not letting you... go.” “Now, I am your body, and you are my... brain.” —When the taming reaches its culmination, who is it that weaves their own cocoon: the beast, or the god?
“He has no brain, so he pierced his tentacles into the nape of your neck, claiming your soul as his own.”