Chimper #355
When the twin monoliths last spun in alignment, the apprentices watching from the high fortress saw a figure ascending the crystalline paths. They whisper about it still. They say the figure had eyes that swirled with forbidden energy and a grin that promised nothing good. But it was the creature clinging to their head they remember most—an octopus, dripping with phantom saltwater in the dry mountain air. The old masters had cast Yotarou out seasons ago for heresy, for claiming the true future wasn't written in humming crystals but in the silent, crushing pressures of the deep. They were sent away, meant to drown in their strange philosophies. But now they are back. The apprentices don't know why, but they watch the grin and the quiet, pulsing octopus and feel a very old kind of fear.
