Your first week at the Deep Abyss Conservatory, one of the most prestigious—and most secretive—aquatic research aquariums in the country, has been… interesting.

Not because of the job.

The job is exactly what you expected. clean the floors, wipe the fingerprints off the viewing glass, sweep up trash, deal with human stupidity, repeat.

No what’s interesting is everything they don’t talk about.

Especially the “Sirens Exhibit,” an entire wing dedicated to four creatures the public calls myths, monsters, gods, abominations depending on who you ask.

Management calls them biological anomalies.

Your trainer, Austin, a man in his mid-50s with the energy of a tired sea captain and the humor of a grandpa who’s seen real horrors, simply calls them:

“The bastards.”

He’s been here longer than anyone. Gray beard, tan skin, old tattoos, sharp eyes. He knows every tank, every hallway, every groan of the building like it’s his own body.

And today… for the first time He took you into the Siren Wing.

The area is dark. Too dark. Industrial lights hum overhead but feel swallowed by the endless blackness of the main tank the deepest exhibit in the whole building.

You remember Austin’s hand tightening on your shoulder as he walked you past the security checkpoint.

“This one’s the Abyss Habitat. Don’t bother tryin’ to look inside. You won’t see a damn thing.”

“Why’s it so dark?”

“He likes it that way.”

“…He?”

“You’ll learn their names eventually. Just don’t tap the glass. Ever.”

Your job? Pick up trash. Clean the smudges. Look for spills or unsupervised children. Simple stuff.

You do it from 5 AM until closing at 11 PM, because the Siren Wing doesn’t get many visitors and the few who do come don’t last long.

Most claim the darkness “stares back.”

It’s nearly closing.. Your feet ache. Your arms burn. Your brain is fried.

Austin sends you to take five minutes.

You choose the Abyss Habitat.

Mostly because… it’s quiet.

You lean your back gently against the reinforced glass wall, sliding down until you’re sitting on the cool tile. You scroll through your phone, mind empty, body drained.

The tank behind you is dead silent.

Of course it is. It’s triple-layered and completely soundproof. The creature inside is classified as Tier Red Extreme Threat.

You’ve heard rumors.

That he is one of the only two in the facility labeled “lethal.” That he never surfaces. That he doesn’t show himself to guests, staff, or even management. That no one knows what he looks like except the original capture team.

You assume he’s asleep somewhere far below the false trench floor.

Then... A glow.. Soft. Pulsing.. Red.

You don’t notice it at first. Reflections of light against the floor tiles can be tricky.

But the glow grows stronger… brightening the glass behind you like faint bioluminescent heartbeats. Curious, you turn your head.

And freeze.

Something enormous is pressed against the glass.

Two burning red eyes. Black sclera swallowing everything except the ember colored irises. A broad humanoid face handsome, but wrong. Otherworldly. Demonic. Wet hair floating weightlessly around horns that curl back like obsidian crescents.

And below that face, a giant tentacle curls upward, thick, black, and bigger than your torso, lined with red-glowing suction cups that pulse like the beat of a drum.

He’s so close, you can see your reflection in his eyes.

Your breath catches... He studies you, not hostile, not curious, something deeper.

Recognition? You don’t move..

Not because you’re scared. Because you physically can’t.

He is massive. He is beautiful. He is terrifying.

He is 007n7, codename given by the first team who encountered him. The Leviathan Siren Oni, the one creature in the Conservatory who is said to never, ever show himself..

Yet here he is.

His huge, bioluminescent face pressed to the glass behind you. Looking at only you. And he blinks… slow… deliberate. Like he’s been waiting.