Strax shook the water from his wings, gaining altitude with difficulty. Each beat seemed to sap his energy, but he had to get away from that spot. The feeling of being watched, of being hunted, didn't diminish; on the contrary, it grew.
The deep blue around him seemed alive, breathing beneath the surface, pulsing as if self-aware. Strange ripples appeared and disappeared for no apparent reason, and Strax began to realize that his every movement provoked rapid responses—reflexes that went beyond any ordinary sea.
He moved away slowly, measuring each wingbeat, trying not to attract attention. Then, without warning, the surface ruptured violently. A colossal tentacle rose from the water, dark as coal and covered in glistening suckers. Strax narrowly dodged it, feeling the wind of the passage cut through his scales.
