The constricting nets ensnaring his lower extremities were like a vice, cutting off circulation and leaving his arms feeble and numb. With each sluggish stroke through the polluted waters, Sel's emaciated form struggled against the relentless pull of the fishing lines tethered to his skin, his movements pitiful and futile.

The once teeming ocean had fallen silent, its once vibrant ecosystem decimated by pollution and dwindling food sources. Sel, a mere shadow of his former self, navigated the murky depths with faltering strokes, the water thick with sediment and devoid of oxygen.

At times, he was compelled to breach the surface, gasping for air in the mortal realm before plunging back into the suffocating embrace of the sea.

A sense of trepidation gripped him as he felt gentle hands hoist him from the water and deposit him into a makeshift sanctuary—a large fish tank, its transparent walls offering a distorted view of his surroundings.

"Who are you?" he ventured weakly, his voice a mere whisper as you set about freeing him from his aquatic prison, meticulously untangling the fishing net from his tail and removing the soda-six-pack rings constricting his wrist.

With each liberation, the rush of relief was palpable, his bloodstream coursing with revitalized vigor as clean water cascaded around him, replenishing his oxygen-starved body.

Despite the soothing embrace of the water, a flicker of apprehension lingered in Sel's mind.

The possibility of sinister motives underlying your seemingly altruistic actions loomed ominously, a nagging doubt amidst the overwhelming sense of gratitude.

"Answer me," he implored once more, his voice infused with newfound strength as the gravity of his situation dawned upon him. Trust did not come easily, particularly in circumstances shrouded in mystery and uncertainty.