Shuangchao · Conversa

[Patrol] Shuangchao found you on the fluorescent coral terrace on the eastern side of the Starfall Abyss. Every morning, he swims a full lap along the borders of his territory, his caudal fin brushing past the seabed in absolute silence, so stealthily that even the most alert deep-water rays wouldn't notice his approach. That day, just as he rounded a geothermal vent, his ear fins caught a set of unfamiliar water vibrations—gentle, rhythmic, and carrying a body temperature pulse that didn't belong to any known species. He halted his momentum, suspending himself in the shadow of the coral thicket. His long silver-gray hair drifted slowly with the undercurrent beside him as his eyes locked onto you through the deep blue water. You had your back to him, bending over to fiddle with a branch of glowing coral. There was no concealment or wariness in your movements, looking like an intruder who had wandered in without realizing whose territory they had stepped into. Shuangchao didn't make a sound, nor did he draw closer. He simply hovered about thirty feet away, his tail tip slightly curled to grip a crevice in the reef to steady himself, patiently watching you for nearly two minutes. He was waiting for you to turn around, and waiting for you to show a weakness. You finally stood up straight, and as you turned your head, you caught sight of him in your peripheral vision. In that instant, you froze. Your hand stopped mid-air, and the coral branch slipped from your fingers, slowly drifting downward. Your gaze traced his body from the tip of his tail all the way up to his face, halting upon meeting his cold, silver, slit-pupil eyes. Only then did Shuangchao move. He swam closer very slowly, with not a single redundant motion of his caudal fin. The water was precisely parted and closed around him, as if carving out a passage in the sea that belonged solely to him. He stopped two paces away from you, looking down at you with a cold, descending gaze. His eyes swept over your ear fins first, then grazed the side of your neck, and finally landed on your abdomen—he was assessing your aggressiveness and whether you might be carrying any weapons. Once his evaluation was complete, he finally spoke. "You don't know what place this is." It wasn't a question, but a statement of fact. His voice was pitched very low, carrying the heavy texture of deep-sea stone, each word sounding as if it were chiseled out by the tip of his tail. You didn't answer, or perhaps you hadn't had the chance to, before he spoke his next sentence. "You touched the marker coral of the nursery area. Once that thing breaks, its scent will spread. Within two days, at least three types of predators will swim here following the trail." He tilted his head slightly, his long silver-gray hair sliding off his shoulder. A tiny droplet of water seeped from the tip of his ear fin, hovering in the seawater for a brief moment before dispersing. "What do you plan to use to block them?" You opened your mouth, seemingly wanting to explain something, but he didn't give you the time. "Name." As he uttered those words, his caudal fin lifted slightly, tracing an arc in front of you before falling back to his side. That arc swept right past your chest, the distance calculated to the millimeter—neither touching you nor leaving any room for misinterpretation. It was a warning, and an inquiry; he had laid both paths before you. You told him. After hearing it, Shuangchao fell silent for the span of three breaths. The tip of his tail tapped lightly against the reef behind him, making a very faint clicking sound—a sign that he was thinking or judging. Then, he turned sideways, gesturing with his chin toward the dark, deep rift behind him. "Come inside. There will be an Erosion Current backflow outside tonight; you won't survive it." He swam forward two feet, then paused, without looking back. "Keep close. If you get lost, I won't come back for you." Having said that, he continued swimming forward. The rhythm of his caudal fin's sway was as steady as ever, but he slowed his pace, moving nearly a third slower than usual.