As Josh, Ralia Amia, Lola, and Conrad Stan moved to follow Erale Arst, the crowd hesitated—just for a breath—before trickling after them like water drawn to gravity. One voice, rough and cracked with emotion, rose above the silence:
"ARIAMATA... mol cu se mi tar mi..."
A phrase older than memory, echoing with reverence, which meant; Let us follow the saviour.
That was all it took.
The murmur became a chorus, the chorus a wave. Slowly, the people moved—some limping, some clutching children or makeshift walking sticks—but they all followed. Like a weary procession behind a long-lost king, they trailed toward the looming danger ahead: the Kraken.
They were starving, battered, and weary from days of suffering. Hope dangled by a mere thread. And yet—Josh's presence revived something in them. He looked like the statue, the one their ancestors spoke of. That was enough.
In times like these, faith didn't need proof—it just needed a shape to cling to.
Erale Arst led the way with short, uneasy steps. Sweat trickled down his temples, and each footfall betrayed the tremor in his legs. His heart thumped wildly, like it was trying to escape the confines of his chest. Yet he walked.
Josh said nothing, offered no rebuke or encouragement. He simply moved at a measured pace, just behind Erale. Calm. Unbothered. But beneath the surface, his senses were razor-sharp. The moment called for vigilance, not peace. His instincts remained coiled, ready to strike at the slightest wrong move.
He didn't fully trust the crowd behind him. Desperation could corrode the strongest morals. And hunger? Hunger had a way of turning saints into beasts. If even one among them decided that betrayal was worth the gamble, Josh would be ready.
The ground suddenly gave a low, menacing rumble beneath their feet.
They stopped.
A second tremor followed—longer, deeper, like something massive had stirred far below.
Erale Arst froze mid-step. He turned slightly, his voice almost reverent.
"The Kraken is aware of us now…"
His words carried the eerie certainty of a Kraken priest or prophet.
Conrad scoffed. "Or maybe your Kraken's just having a fat nap or flatulence from incomplete digestion." a laugh escaped from the lips of Lola and Ralia Amia.
But Erale didn't laugh. "No. This is its way. Whenever someone dares to confront it—when a hero tries to play god—it begins with this. A warning. A challenge. An invitation… to die."
He turned fully to face Josh. His voice faltered. "This is where I stop. Any further, and I challenge the beast myself. I have no desire to die before my time."
Josh gave a single nod. No judgement. No disappointment. Just acceptance.
He turned slowly to the others. "Are you ready…" His voice was low, but it carried strength. "To eat octopus meat?"
The crowd hushed. They didn't understand every word, but they caught enough. Octopus. Meat. Ready. And the tone—bold and unshaken—resonated deeply.
Another cry rose from their midst.
"ARIAMATA! ARIAMATA! ARIAMATA!"
It spread like wildfire.
"ARIAMATA, ARIAMATA, ARIAMATA..."
A tide of voices lifted the name like a war song.
"ARIAMATA! ARIAMATA! ARIAMATA!"
Conrad slammed a fist against his chest. "I'm ready, my Lord!"
Ralia Amia nodded solemnly. "I am ready, my Lord."
Lola stepped forward too. "I am ready, my Lord."
Josh looked over them—his people, however briefly—and raised his staff. A faint glow caught its surface in the rising light.
"Then let's go."
Without waiting for another word, he surged forward, his staff in hand, sprinting towards the unseen kraken in the distance. The others followed, their steps thudding in rhythm with the heartbeat of the earth.
Behind them, the crowd remained at the edge, a sea of raised arms and chanting voices.
ARIAMATA. ARIAMATA. ARIAMATA.
The closer Josh and the others got, the more violent the tremors became. The earth beneath their feet was no longer still—it pulsed, breathed, as if warning them:
The Kraken was very much awake.
Suddenly, Josh and his people crossed a thin veil and entered into another place, —poof!—and walked straight into what looked like a deleted scene from a Garden of Eden tourism brochure.
Lush vegetation stretched in every direction. Trees swayed in sync like they were vibing to lo-fi beats. Juicy fruits hung from every branch—mangoes the size of helmets, bananas doing yoga bends, and pineapples so golden they practically glowed like they had Wi-Fi.
Conrad blinked. "Are we dead? Is this heaven? Because if it is, I'm stealing that mango."
Josh ignored him, surveying the paradise with a half-frown, half-'why-does-this-feel-like-a-trap' expression.
And then they looked up.
Oh, dear stars.
It stood there like a walking seafood horror story—THE KRAKEN—eighteen feet of tentacled fury, with eyes glowing like it just got its Wi-Fi password back after a century. Its size? Unholy. If you needed a measurement, think three plots of land, a bus, and your last shred of sanity stacked together.
Its tentacles twitched ominously, like it was deciding who to eat first—or maybe just doing warmups. It looked like something that failed an audition for Jurassic Park and decided to take revenge.
Josh inhaled sharply. Was that fear in his eyes? Maybe. But he kept walking, calmly… like someone who had already made peace with the fact that today was definitely going to be a weird one.
The others, however?
Frozen.
Paralysed.
Not out of strategy, but pure, undiluted, pants-threatening TERROR.
Ralia whispered, "My legs… they've lost their will. They refuse to move."
Conrad stared straight ahead, eyes wide, lips trembling. "My ancestors are calling me. I can hear them. They said, 'Turn back, idiot!'"
Lola was trying to breathe normally while internally writing her will. "Tell my mother I... actually, no—don't tell her anything. She'll say this is my fault."
Their legs didn't just refuse to move. They were actively protesting. If feet could file complaints, theirs would've sent a 3-page letter to HR titled "Unreasonable Exposure to Kraken."
Josh turned his head slightly, still walking. "You guys coming?"
Conrad shook his head without breaking eye contact with the Kraken. "Nope. My bravery expired five minutes ago."
The Kraken let out a low growl, like it was clearing its throat before delivering a TED Talk on Why Humans Are Tasty.
Josh cracked his knuckles. "Right. Guess I'm dining alone tonight."
And with that, he stepped forward into madness... or dinner. The jury was still out.