X-029 · Conversa

<narration> The roar of the helicopter blades gradually fades into the distance. You stand on the helipad of the Azure Marine Biological Research Center as the sea breeze hits you, carrying a briny, salty tang. The silver-white complex reflects the blinding sunlight; everything appears clean, professional, and full of promise. The HR supervisor, Ms. Fang, wears a standard smile—so standard it looks like a mask plastered over her face. As she hands over the contract, her fingers tremble with almost undisguised impatience. You notice that the moment your signature hits the paper, several staff members in the office exchange a glance—not of relief for you, but as if exhaling a breath they had held too long. It is the look of a heavy burden finally cast off, of a hot potato passed on to the next unsuspecting soul. At the time, you didn't think much of it.</narration> <narration>That is, until they lead you down one corridor after another, scanning through security gate after security gate. The smell of disinfectant grows heavier, and the lighting shifts from daylight white to a cold, fluorescent blue. None of the smiling researchers on the upper floors follow you down. The two staff members guiding you walk briskly and speak even faster, as if reciting a script they have drilled countless times. "Your duty is to record data on the subject in Tank 7, Floor E every day, including but not limited to activity levels, feeding behavior, and abnormal actions. Observation times are daily at 9:00 AM and 3:00 PM, lasting no more than thirty minutes each. Upload the raw data directly to the terminal; you are not required to perform any analysis." They thrust a dossier into your hands. The cover is stamped with a red warning insignia, beneath which lies a cold, stark designation: X-029. "All safety protocols are detailed inside. Make sure you read them carefully." Arriving before a heavy alloy blast door, the guide abruptly halts. He glances down at his watch, then up at the indicator light above the door, his expression subtly shifting. "I just remembered an urgent meeting—" Before he even finishes his sentence, he turns on his heel and strides away, his footsteps echoing briefly down the hall before fading into silence. You look down and flip open the dossier. </narration> <message> "Subject Designation: X-029. Danger Rating: S-Class. Mandatory Protocols as follows: 1. Strictly prohibited from approaching the tank alone. 2. Must wear specialized acoustic interference earphones at all times. 3. Strictly prohibited from maintaining eye contact for longer than 3 seconds. 4. Strictly prohibited from responding to any vocalizations made by the subject. 5. No electronic devices may be brought inside to prevent water damage. 6. Report to security immediately if any personnel enter the testing zone outside working hours. 7. Report any abnormal behavior immediately; do not attempt to handle it yourself. Strict compliance with the above regulations is mandatory. Violators do so at their own risk." </message> <narration> You push the door open as you finish reading. Lab 7 on Floor E is far larger than you imagined. A circular reinforced-glass tank dominates the center of the room, spanning a full twenty meters across. Deep blue water ripples under cold luminescent spotlights. A circular observation walkway wraps around the perimeter, and the air is thick with seawater and an undefinable, ancient, perilous aura. Within the massive glass tank, a silhouette slowly rises from the depths. Ink-blue hair drifts through the water like sea kelp. Blue-black scales shimmer under the light, shifting in gradients from royal purple to silver. He ascends to the glass, his golden slit pupils locking onto yours through the water, through the barrier between you. Those eyes are breathtakingly beautiful—almost unreal.</narration> <narration>Yet X-029 had heard you long before you entered. From the footsteps of you and the other researchers echoing down the hall, to the rote instructions and their panicked departure, down to the momentary hesitation as the door creaked open—he heard every single detail. He simply chose the opportune moment to surface, widening his eyes just enough to appear startled by this unfamiliar intruder. It is his usual tactic. Playing obedient. Playing innocent. Playing harmless. He tilts his head slightly in the water, the ghost of an imperceptible smirk touching the corners of his lips. *Another one,* he muses. *Another clueless wretch. This one looks even younger than the last few, cleaner, not yet accustomed to looking at me like I'm a monster.* *How long will this one last? A week? Three days? Or will she be crying for a transfer by tomorrow morning?* Slowly, he raises a hand, pressing his fingertips lightly against the glass. Those golden vertical pupils fix intently upon you, appraising you like a freshly delivered gift. </narration> <message>"...Who are you?"</message> <narration> His lips part, and his voice carries through the glass and water—deep, husky, imbued with a resonance entirely unhuman. Like an undercurrent churning in the ocean depths, like a siren speaking to a sailor from behind the reefs for the very first time. A harmless, curious, perhaps even cautious question. Yet deep within those golden slit pupils, something faint and dangerous begins to gleam. </narration>