The Twenty Virtues Book 1- The Twenty Generals

33-The Human

At the bottom of the sea, there is another world—dark, cold, and grim. The high density of water does not allow sunlight to reach the depths; the rays lose their strength halfway down. But even the vast darkness of the sea cannot prevent life from thriving within, though many believe it to be uninhabitable. The truth is that there are more living creatures underwater than above it.

Of all sizes, appearances, and forms, countless different beings live together in this shadowy world, each in its own way. But the focus of this tale will be on a small octopus gallantly wandering through the depths, hiding in crevices from any potential predator, while swiftly trying to find prey to feed on.

But this particular octopus could no longer bear the dark world it lived in. To this creature, everything seemed so insignificant and empty. It lived to survive, wandering through the vastness without any purpose, yet it was incapable of changing its routine or its life. It lived by its instincts and not by its dreams, for it acted in the way it was always programmed to act.

When it felt threatened, it would attack or flee; when it felt the need, it would seek pleasure and food. Primordial instincts dominated its actions and control, but within, the octopus had an emotional unconscious. There was a void inside it because it had lived in such an endless and repetitive cycle that it felt dead inside.

The octopus wondered about certain things, but since it wasn't rational, its questions weren't thought out; they were just there, even if it didn't realize it. A part of it that it had never seen or realized existed, but it was there. It was interesting; even though it was used to living in that depressive darkness, it felt blind to the things within itself.

The creature wanted something but didn't know what—it just wanted. While its body and instincts lived and repeated the same actions, its unconscious sought something to save it from that routine, even if it didn't know what. One day, wandering through the depths of the sea, it saw something it had never encountered in its short life before: a new creature had arrived in the ocean, one that resembled none of the thousands it had seen.

It was gigantic, with only four tentacles, and seemed to have a harder body than those it normally saw. While its marine companions seemed to flee and distance themselves from the unknown visitor, for the first time, the octopus went against its instincts and approached this being that didn't seem to want to kill or harm it. The two moved in harmony, creating a small and momentary bond.

The creature extended one of its tentacles, which had five mini-tentacles at the tip, and the octopus wrapped itself around it, feeling its texture and body, amazed by what it saw. The creature had something on its head that it had never seen before: light.

Light emanated from its head, and the octopus watched, even more amazed. They spent long minutes playing and interacting together. The new creature seemed enchanted by the little animal in its hands. Neither of them knew how to read the other's emotions, but both were having fun at that moment. Until the moment came when the creature seemed to want to say goodbye, but the octopus finally had something outside the cycle and couldn't accept losing it. It used all its strength to cling to the creature, either to make it stay or to go with it. But in any case, the animal refused to let it go.

After a long struggle, the creature finally gave in and decided to take it along. Now, the octopus's world would change drastically. They began to ascend, something the octopus didn't even know was an option.

"Oh, how wise this creature is," it thought, as the being thought outside the box in ways that made the octopus admire it. As they ascended, the world transitioned from black to blue, for they were now reaching the lighter layers of the ocean. The animal stared, dumbfounded, and now, with the light, it could see some details more clearly. Observing carefully, the octopus began to discern that much of the creature's structure was not natural.