the stars are different. 

this is always kibum’s first thought, as inane as it gets every time the lander settles on the surface. when he looks up at the sky, periwinkle or obsidian or orange, different stars look back to greet him. he needs to take this moment, because it serves as the final reminder. he is somewhere new. he is, fundamentally, an intruder, an alien entity with no rights or stakes to the place he’s landed for only a little while.

the stars from where he stands, on this wet, lonely moon, are against a greenish-purple skyscape. the nearest planet is dipping beneath the horizon, its rings broken against the massive sea.

his lander, his home, is settled on a low-lying island, sheltered from the broader deep by ridges that leave only two entrances out. one is visible to kibum through the glass of his helmet; the other, according to the mapping is a half-kilometer southeast. there were no settlements nearby, perfect for his purposes.

he sets up the meters for seismography efficiently, beneath these unknown stars, and goes back to the lander to arrange for the ping, what will allow the services back home from determining what type of role this lonely moon should play for future navigation. 

the success of this is indicated by a quiet, pleasant hum, and kibum settles himself back into his bunk. his suit is locked into a cabinet; his helmet, secured to the wall. 

he falls asleep, unimpaired by the awareness that he is alone. this is, by now, an accepted reality. 

a planetquake is always a possibility, a probability. kibum awakens to the frantic warning beeps of the seismograph sensors. the lander is equipped for this, bracers and cushioning and structural choices that will leave kibum unharmed no matter what rages on beneath the surface.

he throws himself into the seat to monitor the activity, to see it’s sourced deep underwater, and not nearly far away enough for him to ride it out. the lander will be thrashed to its very limits, but he’s been trained. he latches himself in, and watches through one of the displays as the ground opens up, the sea rushes in, and the lander tumbles into its inky, churning depths.

he blacks out, because the lander may adjust the pressure to keep him safe, but there’s only so much one can do against the feeling of being thrown, the sensation of turning over and over in a seemingly endless vortex.

he awakens, because there is a tap-tap-tap against the synthetic covering the lander. 

the display shows he is, quite simply, lost beneath the ocean’s surface. the ping is no longer humming actively, but when kibum checks, he is assured by the fact he received a response while he slept, and any craft in orbit should be able to find him with a reasonable scan for activity.

none of this accounts for the tapping. 

he has things to take care of first. his suit is crumpled but intact, and his helmet has no cracks or damage that would make it inoperable underwater. his food and water supply can be rationed out for weeks, and he separates it out into the necessary portions immediately, while his stomach is full and his thinking clear.

the lander itself has held together as advertised, though the water pressure may change that if he’s here for too long. but, as he calculates out worst scenarios, the first thing that could take him out is thirst, then hunger, then isolation sickness. all of that comes into consideration first. 

kibum breathes out, because he’s used to isolation, but he’s used to isolation in the context of motion. there is no loneliness as long as there is the travel, the change from system to system, from stars to stars. loneliness is only a threat with stillness. 

he is no longer on the mapped and confirmed desolate island, is the last consideration, the one that acknowledges the tapping objectively. he is beneath the waves, in a vast and alien ocean, and there could be a myriad of dangers beneath the depths.

it’s such a light, careful tapping. 

kibum shakes his head, because the native population of this moon stay on the land. their crafts are rudimentary and stay along the coast. they do not have the capability of diving hundreds of meters and finding kibum and his lander, and tapping politely for acknowledgement.

the surface is durable enough to keep the ocean out, but kibum is a curious soul, and a pragmatic one. his heart threatening to enter his throat, he turns on one of the displays. 

the depths of the ocean are dark, this is a fact, but there’s something out there, phosphorescent and glowing, a luring, lovely blue. its tail is thick, strong, and it moves swiftly out of visibility.

swallowing back his excitement, and turning a blind eye to his fear, kibum activates all the displays, creating a 360-degree image that circles around the entire inside of the lander.

kibum moves his eyes quickly around, searching for the creature, but there’s a baffling nothing, except a tap-tap-tap that reverberates from beneath his feet. 

it’s intelligent, kibum reasons around his rising heartbeat. with a sharp, hard structure that allows for the continuing tap-tap-tap , and a recognition that there’s something inside the lander. 

there are only two places with a physical aperture to view out of. and one is below the primary area kibum sleeps in, meant for secure observation of a surface that the displays couldn’t accurately penetrate.

he slips down beneath, pursuing the tap-tap-tap as it rings louder, harder. the viewing seat is compact as he bangs his knees in his haste to climb in. 

“come on,” he whispers. the tapping is just above him and to the right. the seat is within its own bubble, rendering him unable to look up. the luminescent blue is barely visible at the corner of the transparent window. “let me see you.”

the tail lashes out from below, the sudden visibility of it, and the urgency of its motion startling kibum. blue dances in his field of vision as he blinks his way through the change of light. 

when it clears, there is a person - a creature, kibum self-corrects, because there is a sharpness to their teeth, a scaliness to their skin, an inhuman glow crackling around them. he floats in front of kibum and his compact viewing station, his tail sweeping back and forth beneath him. kibum cannot even see where it ends, so boxed in by the limits of the bubble.

the creature clearly recognizes kibum as the occupant of the lander, and closes the gap. he reaches out and taps the tip of his finger against the window. 

not quite a finger, now that kibum can see it up close. the extremities are nearly see-through, and kibum watches with fascination the way his joints move as he goes again to tap-tap-tap .

“what are you doing?” he whispers, and the creature sharply looks at him through blackish eyes, that change into a pale, milky white after he blinks. he gazes at kibum, his head curiously tilted. his hand pulls back and he puts it to his mouth. kibum can see nothing else as he opens it, but he knows the teeth within are sharp, jagged. 

there should be no way for kibum to hear anything that originates outside the lander, but when the creature sings, kibum hears it. he hears it in the confines of his lonely soul, where it searches and finds all his curiosity, all his melancholy, all his too-human worries and fears. it takes all of these within its path, and only uses it to heighten its power. it sings, and it sings, and kibum presses his hand against the window in the sudden terror of being known.

in it, he can hear the hum of the ping, lost in the quake, lost to the sea. 

it keeps singing, beauty escaping between teeth belonging to a predator, around hands that don’t quite have fingers, and kibum is alone beneath the waves. there is no craft coming to his rescue at this exact moment, endangered and entrapped within his perfectly safe lander.

that crackling blue glow around his tail is deepening, illuminating kibum’s hand as it stays against the window. the creature comes closer, and reaches out its other hand to meet kibum’s. 

quite suddenly, it stops singing, and kibum is left gasping for breath, on the edge of drowning. 

he sits back in his observation chair. the creature blinks, and its eyes are once again black. it makes no move to leave.

kibum scrubs his hand through his hair. 

“.”

he scrambles upstairs and detaches one of the small consoles to take down with. the creature is waiting patiently as he navigates the screen, trying to retain his composure as he pulls up the close-range bio-scanner. 

it beeps as he brings it to its starting posture, and he quickly glances up, aware of how sensitive the creature appeared to be to noise. 

the creature blinks at him, his tail swishing in an even tempo. taking a deep breath, kibum begins the scan. it should only take thirty, twenty, ten - at five seconds, the creature opens his mouth wide, revealing double rows of teeth, and lets out a broken bark of warning.

kibum drops the scanner. from where it lands, an impossible conclusion: human.

“is not,” he says stupidly. he pulls up the detailed report as soon as he finagles the scanner back into his lap. he thinks perhaps he hasn’t run it right, and runs it again, ignoring the second bark of objection. human. he thinks, maybe, the tight quarters of the bubble are affecting its identification process, and it’s reading kibum instead.

maybe, maybe, but there was no way to confirm it. he looks at the creature, and wonders why he hasn’t wandered off. 

predators can wait for hours, he remembers, and he gulps, throat tight, at the way those black eyes follow him. 

his own stomach growls, and he climbs back up to the primary deck. before he closes the passageway, he sees the blue luminescence brighten momentarily, and then fade away.

slowly, purposefully, he eats his first ration. he enters his data for the day, and pulls an extra blanket around him when he lays down to sleep.

tap-tap-tap wakes him up again.

this time, kibum climbs to the other aperture, a narrow oval on its side, located above one of the storage containers. its inclusion was a simple concession that humans craved natural light, even when there was no scientific justification. kibum had slept in it before, when he had a particular hunger. his whole body had savored the warmth of foreign suns. 

he squeezes his whole body into the space now. before long at all, there is a flickering blue and the creature swims up. he goes to his side, mimicking kibum’s positioning. the fin at the end of his tail beats up and down, and kibum curls his toes parallel to it.

“hi again,” kibum whispers. the creature flicks his eyes over kibum’s form. “you don’t look very human.”

he hums, and again, it sounds like the ping, like kibum trying to send a message back home. 

but it turns into a song again, and kibum lies there, his head pillowed on his arm, and listens. 

there’s nothing else to do. 

he is bared and bare, shedding the layers of himself with each note. 

there’s no one else to be. 

he is a human beneath the sea, waiting to be consumed.

the fourth time kibum wakes up, it’s to the absence of tapping. 

he checks the bubble, and the storage aperture. he runs scans and finds no one but himself. the 360 display is darkness, darkness, except for one small corner.

this corner is by the access. there is the translucent end of a not-quite-a-finger, scratching at the seam of the airlock. if kibum holds his breath, and doesn’t move, he can hear it. 

what has changed? the creature sings him to sleep, and taps him into wakefulness. he watches kibum’s movements and only leaves when kibum goes to. when kibum touches the window, he accepts it and reciprocates it. he has a tail that glows blue and comforting, black eyes that film over white, and double rows of teeth that can never quite be hidden.

kibum eats his ration, and goes to put on his suit. his helmet locks into the neck guard, and he checks his supply of air. 

not looking away from the 360 display, kibum enables audio. he could hear him if he whispered, but kibum wants to say it out loud, a plea to summon bravery.

“i’m coming out.”

he holds his breath. he doesn’t move. the scratching stops.

the air lock of a standard lander is wide enough for a crew of three. kibum can spread his arms wide and just barely graze his fingertips against each opposing wall. 

the door to the outside is thick, as is the door going into the lander properly. he checks the seals on the inner door methodically before setting down. his breath steams up the interior of the helmet before the air re-distributes, clearing it up with admirable efficiency.

tap-tap-tap  

kibum never did do well holding still. 

he enters the necessary commands, and the passage begins to fill with water. the suit is meant to withstand any danger. it adjusts as the water gets higher, re-grounding Kibum when he begins to float.

through hungry, excited eyes, kibum watches the translucent, cartilaginous edges of fingers curl around. black eyes, double rows of teeth. 

between the scales forming the curve of shoulders, at the edges of a tail that stretches out lengthy and sinuous behind him, the luminescence that entices kibum to lift a foot, to step forward. 

the creature comes inside first, and meets him before he can do even this. his body is sleek, a mixture of skin and scaling down the proud line of his back, the wings of his ribs. the tail, starting at his waistline, makes him dwarf kibum. he floats a half-head higher than him, and his tail, trying to fit within the airlock, curls around the two of them. it brushes against the heel of kibum’s boot, teasing a possessive squeeze.

silently, the creature reaches out and takes kibum by the arms, and draws him outside. with the suit, kibum is over 200 kilograms on dry land. but here, in the alien sea, he is weightless, pulled heedlessly in a knowing wake. 

the lander is impossible to see when their path turns, and his head turns to find it. the grip holds kibum on as he blinks back tears, uncertain if they come from grief or joy. 

“where…” he starts to say, but falls silent. there are swimming forests before them suddenly. when they enter, their tendrils draw over kibum, reluctant to release him as the creature turns into a dive, towing kibum down, further and further.

the only thing kibum can see, when they stop, are the luminescent strands across the creature’s body. the lines of it in his tail come towards kibum. they find his legs and push them together, wrapping around him. his hands rest at the last length of it, where it wraps around his waist. 

the creature releases his grip on his arms. kibum’s body finds them next against the sides of his helmet, exploring at the catches and releases encircling it.

“please - “ kibum starts. his breath catches before he can continue. the luminescence is bouncing off his helmet, and bringing the creature’s face in stark relief. the flatness of his eyes still somehow show intelligence, a waiting curiosity for kibum’s thoughts. “please don’t.”

the creature pulls his hand up, away from the latches, and back to his own face. instead of covering his mouth, he puts the palm against his cheek. he closes his eyes, and tilts against it, his face relaxing into peace. and then he takes the same hand. he presses it against the glass of kibum’s helmet, the barrier keeping him from holding kibum’s face in that same way. 

he begins his song, and kibum listens. he is lashed open at each dark seam of his heart, his character written bold, and his body held , all to be consumed.

the creature is the ocean, and the ocean squeezes him tighter and tighter, its cold and its teeth and its beauty and its wonder and terror, folding kibum into the embrace he was seeking when he stepped into the airlock. when he looked outside. when he listened to the tapping, when he set the lander down and when he looked up at stars he did not know. 

the helmet is clicked off, and kibum swallows the ocean, and the ocean swallows him.

there is a small, wet, moon at the edge of the system. the native population keeps close account of their boats, because the ocean does not give easily. but it takes, and it takes.

on the far south stretches of the ocean, there was an island where many islands used to be. the islands come into being with violence, and they are destroyed with violence. no one goes there. it is beyond even where avarice will take the natives. 

but those who do not know. those who travel to the outreaches at the behest of others who do not know, and those who do not hear the stories, who do not heed the warnings. they find the islands and they are destroyed with it.

the ocean consumes, and it births. what is consumed is never erased, but made new. 

a man swallows the ocean, and the ocean swallows him. it permeates his skin, his teeth, his bones; it glows within him. a creature, formerly a man, now hunts the deep.

it recognizes another man, for once it was that man. 

and he sings to him. and he destroys him, to be made new.

kibum awakens to a tap-tap-tap . 

his helmet lies on the floor of the sea, his suit beside it. the creature is floating on its back, his fingers tapping against the glass. 

there is a blue glow, and there is a green glow. a tail thrashes beneath him, new muscles working just beneath his waist. careful, knowing before knowing, he moves his tongue to find a double row of teeth.

the creature swims up to him. the blackness of his eyes washes away into brown. he reaches out for kibum’s hand, and he gives it willingly. 

the ocean beckons beneath them, around them, above them.

kibum spins through it, boundless.