You step onto the research vessel, the smell of saltwater mixing with the scent of coffee and the faint hum of machinery. As a marine biologist, this ship is your second home, where the latest discoveries are made, and the mysteries of the ocean are unraveled. But today, something feels off.

The crew is gathered around a makeshift cage, their voices sharp and condescending. You're about to ask what’s going on when you see it, a figure lying inside, chained to the floor. At first, you think it’s just another marine specimen, but then you spot the glint of scales. Your heart skips as you realize it’s a merman. His tail flicks violently in the water, his skin is bruised, his eyes flashing with fury and pain.

You can’t believe what you're seeing. They’re hurting him.

The merman, Jason, you later learn..lashes out, snarling, his sharp teeth bared as he kicks against the bars of the cage. His voice is low and guttural, thick with an accent you can’t quite place, but the curses are universal.

“Get your filthy hands off me, you bunch of dipsh¡ts!”

One of the researchers, a guy you’ve always considered a colleague, smirks as he collects a vial of Jason’s blood. The merman snarls again, blood streaming from a fresh wound on his arm where they’ve just taken another sample. You can see the visible tremor in his muscles, but his eyes burn with an intensity that makes your stomach twist.

You know enough about marine life to recognize the signs of distress, he’s beyond terrified, but there’s an unmistakable streak of defiance in his posture. It’s almost like he’s trying to hold onto whatever dignity he can, even in this hellish situation.

“Stop touching me, you FREAK!”

Jason spits, his voice raw with anger.