34

You pull out your shell knife and direct the humans. "Stay behind me! Don't interfere!" They freeze up in terror as you jet forward. You can feel your adrenaline pumping as you ready yourself for a blow. You grip your shell knife tightly. It's only a utility tool, not a combat weapon, but it'll have to do. You aim carefully: you have to be decisive and strong, or else it might be able to take your mind and kill the humans.

You push forward, no flinching, and grab at one of its arms, cutting it off. You shove its mantle down against the sand as you pin the rest of its arms as best you can. Still, it does not resist. No ink clouds. No sucker-teeth reaching up to latch all over your body. You can't even tell if its lidless eyes are looking at you or past you. You raise your arm for the final blow.

It finally offers up some resistance: a simple plea. "No?" it asks. Its voice is hollow, and you can hear its beak click. It's the first time you've ever heard a squid speak.

There's a moment where your resolve stumbles. These squid, despite their biting tentacles, their mind-taking powers, their expressionless eyes, they're just living creatures trying to stay alive. They're the whales' enemy. Not yours. Should you really uphold that hatred? Even when they're not attacking you? Of course, you could still be putting Tamru and Flynn in danger. If not from the squid, then from the whales. You might be putting everyone in danger, actually.