The stingray glided effortlessly through the shifting currents, its smooth body cutting through the water like a shadow. It had been drifting lazily near the shallows when something—no, someone—crashed into its world in a storm of bubbles and sinking metal.

Curious, the stingray flicked its fins and circled the sinking mass, its large, glassy eyes drinking in the towering figure that now disturbed its peaceful domain. The thing—big, sharp, and unfamiliar—drifted slowly down, limbs heavy, glowing red optics dim in the darkening blue.

A new friend?

The stingray swirled around the metal giant, its movements light and fluid. A slow circle. Then another. Tiny ripples danced in its wake, teasing at the being’s unmoving frame. Still, the stingray was not deterred.

With a small burst of speed, it coasted closer, belly skimming just over the jagged armor of its visitor. Then—blorp—a soft sound bubbled from it, a watery greeting, an invitation.

It waited.

Nothing.

The stingray swam around again, closer this time, its wing-like fins fluttering against the metal’s surface. Blorp. Another little noise. Another hopeful nudge.

Nothing.

Tilting its body, the stingray hovered in front of the strange being’s face, watching the dim glow of his optics. It pulsed its fins in slow, rhythmic motions, drifting in place. The creature was alive. It could feel it.

And the stingray wanted attention.

With newfound determination, it curled under the metal giant’s chin and gave him a firm little boop. Then—another blorp. Loud. Persistent.

Pay attention to me!