Jellyfish Archipelago

  The waves rolled gently beneath them, as salt and spray clung to Roa’s skin. He leaned over the edge, peering into the water’s shifting depths. Beneath the boat, the world shimmered turquoise and emerald. The light fractured against thousands of translucent jellyfish, their gelatinous bodies pulsating in hypnotic rhythm. The animals drifted like an alien bloom in the sea, beautiful yet unsettling. The giant sea turtle eventually docked on an island in a tropical archipelago.

  "We will need to wait for the clocks to turn for the wall to reopen," instructed the captain.

  They found themselves on a white, sandy beach, under the warmth of the artificial sun that hung from the ceiling.

  “You’re not actually thinking of diving into that mess, are you?” Rosso said, squinting against the sun, as the boy took off his clothes.

  “We have to wait—might as well enjoy it.”

  Without waiting for a reply, he plunged into the water. It was shockingly cold, covering his skin in goosebumps. The world above blurred, replaced by an underwater realm that felt quiet and serene. The jellyfish floated around him in eerie silence, their bioluminescent glow filling the watery ruins below in ghostly light.

  As Roa swam deeper, the outline of a sunken city emerged from the darkness. Skyscrapers jutted from the seabed like jagged teeth, their glass facades shattered and coated in coral. A sunken highway curved into the depths, and monorail tracks were now home to darting schools of colorful fish. He reached out, his fingers brushing against the rusted frame of a bus, its once-polished surface now cloaked in barnacles.

  Then he saw it—a dark shape shifting far beneath him. The boy was suddenly faced with one of his most primal fears. The fear of the dark. The water around him grew colder, the pressure heavier. A voice, ancient and resonant, echoed through his mind. He wanted to swim away to safety, but his body froze in place.

  “Why do you trespass my depths? Has your kind not done enough harm?”

  The words sent a chill down Roa’s spine. The silence was only broken by his heart pounding, as the being grew larger, until it revealed itself: a massive jellyfish-like creature with a pulsating, translucent body. It must have been the size of a ship. Its eyes, deep-set and gleaming like black pearls, seemed to dig deep into his soul.

  “Your insatiable specie disrupts the Sacred Balance. You build—you destroy. You poison what was once pure. Do you not understand that everything you do shall come at a cost?”

  “I didn’t come to harm anything,” Roa thought, the creature’s words heavy in his mind. “I am only passing by. What happened here?” he asked, hoping that the being could hear his thoughts.

  “You Humans did this to yourselves. Now the sea is warm, the algae bloom uncontrolled, and I, the Kami of the Jellyfish, have been called forth by your selfish, careless, actions.” The creature’s tendrils curled like smoke. “You have flooded these places where dry land once was. You paid the price before, and shall you pay it again.”

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  "Please, I do not think that the islanders who live here are to blame."

  "Humanity as a whole is to blame—they too belong to Humanity. The sea will rise and will drown them soon, and the mountains that turned to islands, will one day disappear beneath the waves. Leave this place or face the consequences. You have been warned," it said, ominously disappearing in the depths, leaving only the silence of the sea.

  Roa’s lungs burned as he kicked toward the surface, breaking through with a gasp. Rosso was standing on the shore, arms crossed; he noticed the boy's face dark with worry.

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Rosso muttered.

  “Maybe I have,” he said, staring at the horizon.

  The village clung stubbornly to the craggy cliffs of the island; the humble buildings stood defiant against the rising tide. Islanders bustled around the dock, unloading fish and mending nets, their faces sculpted by years of hardship. A group of kids playing on the beach approached them, and when asked, they told them the story of their people, who for years had watched their land grow smaller with each passing season.

  "We don't have any space to grow our food. My mom wants to leave but the elders won't let us."

  Rosso noticed that the Sunflower wore the same expression as when he punched one of the Desert Fathers.

  “Listen, man, I got a feeling you want to help these people—but we have a ride to catch, and it could leave at any point, we just don’t know when. Plus—” he opened his mouth and pointed at his missing incisor “I would like to keep the rest of my teeth, for now.”

  Roa stood lost in thought, then said: “A heart that feels the pain of others wants justice, and when that call rings, it must answer, or go against its very own nature,” responded the Sunflower.

  “What does that even mean? We’re going to end up beaten to pulp again, I’m telling you” Rosso complained, rolling his eyes.

  Roa approached the largest hut, ignoring the pleads of his friend, the weight of his earlier, underwater encounter heavy on his shoulders. A group of elders stood, their ceremonial garb stiff and bright against the muted backdrop of the ocean. The boy from Earth listened as the villagers spoke in hushed tones about the poisonous jellyfish infesting their waters, of their dwindling food supplies, and of the leaders’ refusal to leave their ancestral home.

  “The jellyfish are a nuisance,” one elder declared, his voice sharp with pride, “but this is our land. We will endure, as we always have. Our sacred traditions must not be abandoned, no matter the cost. We lived at the base of this mountain, we have adapted, moving up each time.”

  Roa clenched his fists and stood up.

  “Your people are starving, and the sea is turning against you. You have run out of mountain to climb. There is nowhere else to go next—but in the water. What’s sacred about watching your people suffer?”

  The elder glared at him, but the murmurs of agreement from the villagers seemed to dull his anger. Roa continued, his voice firm.

  “Nature doesn’t bow to tradition, nor any of Humanity's other inventions. It changes, and we must change with it. If we don’t, there will be nothing left to preserve. Who will follow your traditions then?"

  That night, while everyone was fast asleep, the calm sea turned violent. A storm rolled in fast, transforming the peaceful waters into a churning, dark cauldron. Waves clawed at the shore, smashing against the village’s fragile docks. Roa squinted through the rain, his feet slipping on the soaked, uneven ground as villagers fled to higher ground, their screams swallowed by the howling wind.

  Something emerged from the violent sea.

  The water seemed to boil as the massive jellyfish broke the surface, its pulsating body glowing with an eerie, bioluminescent light. Its poisonous tendrils, thick as tree trunks, lashed out, dragging boats into the depths and snapping wooden huts like twigs. The villagers scattered in all directions, as a colossal wave crashed against the shore, while the creature rose.

  "We can't let it destroy everything!" said the boy.

  "I knew it. I knew you were going to say that,” Rosso said lifting his hands up.