[The Flavor Network — Dimensional Dock 7]
The platform shimmered under their feet — a runway of stainless steel suspended over a churning sea that wasn't quite water. The waves looked like molten glass, glinting with fragments of constellations.
Lira leaned over the edge. "Is that… stars in the ocean?"
"Looks like oil and regret," Arin muttered, poking a ladle into it. "Smells like paksiw though. Ayos."
"Don't taste it—"
He already had.
His tongue fizzled like soda. "Huh. Bitterness level: emotional damage."
A holographic banner unfurled above them:
ROUND ONE CONTINUES: Harvest Your Ingredient — The Crimson Deep-Octopus of Nereid-9.
THE BRIEFING
A sleek droid rolled toward them, its head shaped like a rice cooker. "Contestants, to qualify for preparation, you must retrieve your octopus alive."
"Alive?!" Lira's voice cracked. "It tried to kill him last round!"
"Rules are rules," the droid replied cheerfully. "Please sign the liability waiver. In case of evaporation."
Arin squinted at the fine print. "If I die, does Earth get disqualified?"
"Only if you stay dead for over three minutes."
"Sweet. I've got time."
Lira sighed. "You're unbelievable."
"Thank you," he said, pocketing soy sauce packets like ammo. "Let's cook destiny."
THE PLAN
Inside their assigned shuttle (which smelled faintly of garlic butter), Lira checked their equipment.
"Harpoon blaster? Check. Oxygen pods? Check. Frying pan blessed by Saint Gordon of Ramsay?"
Arin kissed the pan. "She never lets me down."
"You mean you rarely let her survive."
"Eh, fifty-fifty."
The ship rattled as it descended through the stormy seas of Nereid-9 — a planet where the oceans were sentient, the fish cursed in binary, and the air tasted faintly of calamansi.
NEREID-9 — THE SEA OF VOICES
Thunder cracked. Waves rose like skyscrapers.
The Crimson Deep-Octopus shimmered beneath them — glowing eyes, ten-meter tentacles, a pulse that echoed like a war drum.
Arin grinned. "Yup. Definitely a seafood boss level."
Lira slapped a helmet onto his head. "Try not to flirt with it."
"I make no promises."
They dove.
The water burned cold — like being swallowed by a hologram. Strange silhouettes darted through the dark: jellyfish with screens for faces, shrimp that hummed radio static.
And there, coiled around a coral throne, was the Crimson Deep-Octopus — elegant, ancient, and extremely unimpressed.
THE NEGOTIATION
Arin floated forward slowly, holding out a packet of vinegar.
"Peace offering," he said. "From Earth. Pahamak-free."
The octopus blinked — then squirted ink shaped like the word NO.
Lira whispered through the comms, "Arin, just grab it!"
"Shhh! Negotiation's a delicate art," he said, smiling nervously. "You gotta build trust."
The octopus slapped him.
He tumbled through the water, spinning. "Agh! Okay! Trust is optional!"
Lira aimed her harpoon. "I told you!"
"No, no, wait— I've got a better idea."
THE EXPERIMENT
Arin unzipped a pouch on his belt — inside was a cluster of mysterious ingredients from Earth:
tiny purple chilies, smoked vinegar, and a blob of alien yeast that hummed.
"This is my masterpiece," he said, stirring them into a floating bubble of water. "Fusion adobo. Multiversal edition."
"Arin, not now!"
But the scent spread fast — tangy, smoky, alive. Even the sea creatures stopped moving.
The octopus hesitated. Tentacles twitched. Then… it reached out.
Arin grinned. "You smell that, huh? That's home, baby."
The octopus wrapped a tentacle around his arm — not to attack, but to taste.
A psychic wave hit Arin like lightning. He saw visions again:
The creature's memories — endless hunger, loneliness in the deep, the need to be understood.
Arin whispered, "You're just… trying to feed your world too."
The octopus blinked once… then released him.
THE CAPTURE
The judges' holographic drones flickered into view, broadcasting the moment across dimensions.
Arin surfaced with the octopus swimming behind him, peaceful, glowing faintly like a lantern.
Lira blinked. "You didn't fight it?"
"Nah. We vibed."
"You vibed with a cosmic sea monster?"
"Mutual respect, babe. And a bit of vinegar."
The droid announcer chimed in, voice cheerful as ever.
"Team Earth has successfully secured their ingredient. Bonus points for emotional diplomacy."
Lira crossed her arms. "I hate that you're good at this once in a while."
He winked. "That's my curse. Genius only strikes when I least deserve it."
THE HOOK
As they rose back toward the Flavor Network station, a figure watched from afar — another contestant, wearing the same Earth uniform.
Her hair shimmered silver under the alien sun.
Lira frowned. "Who's that?"
Arin squinted. "Oh no… no way. That's—"
The girl turned, smirking at the camera.
"Miss me, Arin?"
END OF CHAPTER 2