#tranquil exploration

Catius drifted with the current, letting the sun-dappled waters carry him over the edge of the coral reef that marked the outer boundary of the Steelix Cliff Base’s patrol. The ocean here was quiet, save for the soft sighing of waves as they curved overhead, and the occasional chitter of crabs scrambling along the reef. The light above was translucent, bending in thin, silken ribbons that danced along his blue-and-gold scales, highlighting the faint gold flecks along his tail. He paused, letting the sun’s warmth settle across him, and tilted his head to watch the reef below.

The coral sprawled endlessly, a riot of colors and fractals. Staghorn corals stretched skyward in hues of pink, fuchsia, and coral-orange, their forms twisting and spiraling with the currents as if in a slow, eternal dance. Honeycombed structures rose from the seabed, resembling miniature neural networks, their hollowed spirals catching the light in translucent glimmers. Tiny, iridescent fish darted between the nooks and crannies, their bodies partially transparent, glowing faintly as they weaved through the coral.

Claude swam alongside him, silent for a moment, letting the currents sweep through his dark feathers and the fins of his limbs. “Blessed are we to be given such sights,” he murmured, voice soft and thoughtful.

Catius nodded, his hands brushing through the water as the currents refracted across them. The motion made the light scatter into fractals, dancing across the scales on his arms and chest. He paused for a moment, letting the translucent glow of the reef seep into his consciousness. It was rare to have peace like this; life in the Steelix Cliff Base was usually punctuated by the constant planning, patrols, and the lingering shadow of the Stormbreaker Incident.

He let himself relax, shoulders easing, chest rising and falling with the rhythm of the water. Even Claude seemed slower now, more contemplative. The reef had a way of softening the hard edges of their training, their geneseed-driven enhancements, their memories of loss and battle.

“Look,” Claude said, pointing toward a cluster of sea anemones swaying gently. Their jelly-like tentacles rippled in the current, semi-transparent and luminous, a delicate dance against the dark recesses of the reef. “They’re… almost like smoke caught in sunlight.”

Catius tilted his head closer. Tiny clownfish darted among the tentacles, using the anemones’ translucent defenses as protection. He watched them for a long moment, thinking of the harmony in this strange ecosystem, the way even predators and prey had carved roles that kept the reef alive.

“It reminds me of… balance,” Catius murmured. “Even in war… even with what we’ve seen, there are places where everything just… works.”

Claude gave a small laugh. “You sound almost like one of the Iron Warriors instructors lecturing about logistics, but… softer.”

Catius smirked faintly, though his eyes didn’t leave the reef. “Maybe. I’m just… thinking. There’s more than battles, more than orders and ranks. Look at this—how the water scatters light through the air, the fish, the corals… even the smallest crab, it all has a place. All of it translucent, like you can see the layers beneath. Nothing hidden, everything visible… if you know how to look.”

They continued their patrol slowly, weaving around coral spires and hovering above the sandy sea floor. Catius kept one hand brushing along the occasional reef structure, feeling the texture—hard, porous, ancient. He imagined the layers of sediment, centuries of life compacted into something beautiful yet fragile. Translucence wasn’t just light passing through—it was honesty, clarity, the feeling that the world would not lie if you observed closely enough.

A glimmer caught his eye further off, and he paused, narrowing his vision. A group of small, translucent jellyfish floated lazily toward them, glowing faintly as the sun refracted through their gelatinous bodies. Claude moved instinctively, circling slightly, cautious. Catius noted the subtle shift, the way the sea creatures reacted to them without fear. He realized the reef had its own order, and they were intruders, yet not threats. It was a reminder that life—even life in a dangerous, chaotic universe—could operate on rules simpler than war, politics, or loyalty.

“You ever think,” Catius said quietly, “about how everything—every creature, every current, every bubble—is part of a system that’s bigger than us?”

Claude nodded. “Sometimes. And sometimes I wish we could be more like them… transparent, without agendas. Without orders.”

Catius chuckled softly, “Or maybe not without orders. Just… aware. Knowing our place. Understanding the currents before moving.”

They swam in silence for a few minutes longer, letting the reef and the translucent ocean light calm them. Even the smallest disturbances—the ripple of water against coral, the flicker of a fish—seemed amplified in the quiet, serene space.

Eventually, the patrol looped back toward the main base, the familiar structures of the Steelix Cliff shoal looming ahead. Catius cast one last glance over his shoulder at the reef, letting the image of translucent light, glowing anemones, and iridescent fish settle in his mind.

When they reached the edge of the patrol zone, Claude nudged him lightly. “Ready to return?”

Catius took a deep breath of filtered water, letting it fill his lungs and chest fins. “Yes. But… let’s come back here again. Soon. It’s… good to remember what we’re protecting.”