The Evolutionary Menu pulsed – **Cilia Propulsion Array**, **Thickened Pellicle Membrane**, **Photosynthetic Patch**. Options. Lifelines. But the heavy, rhythmic *thump-thump-thump* vibrating through the red pebble from Kael's footsteps below, and the bone-deep *WHOOSH* of the activated filter system sucking debris towards the far end, screamed *immediate action*. Hesitation was sludge.
*"SPEED! OPTION ONE! NOW!"* Dave screamed internally, pouring every shred of desperate will into the choice.
`> SELECTION CONFIRMED: CILIA PROPULSION ARRAY (ADVANCED SYNCHRONIZATION UPGRADE).`
`> RAPID DEPLOYMENT INITIATED. WARNING: HIGH ENERGY DEMAND.`
Agony ripped through Dave again, sharper than the first time. It felt like his entire membrane was being flayed, re-knitted, and studded with a thousand burning needles simultaneously. But this time, alongside the pain, came a surge of *control*. The chaotic, spastic flailing of his previous cilia was replaced by a powerful, unified thrum. He felt the cilia lock into coordinated waves, ready to propel him with directed force.
`> DEPLOYMENT COMPLETE.`
`> USER MANUAL: THINK "GO." GO FAST.`
Below, the metallic *CLANK-SCREECH* of the siphon nozzle scraping against the glass baseplate sent shockwaves through the water. Dave didn't think. He *willed*. **GO!**
His cilia snapped into action with terrifying efficiency. He shot *upwards* along the pebble face like a micro-missile, leaving the corrosive fungal patch and the precious mineral seepage crack behind. The g-force was immense, pinning him momentarily against the stone. The world blurred into streaks of red mineral and swirling silt. He angled away from the pebble, aiming for the open water above the sandy plain, away from the vortex of suction pulling everything towards Kael's position.
He sensed the water pressure shift violently behind him. A localized maelstrom erupted where the siphon nozzle touched the substrate. Sand, silt, small pebbles, and countless micro-organisms were torn from the bottom and sucked into the dark maw. The cold chemical signature of the nematode flared with pure terror before vanishing abruptly, swallowed whole. The devastation was silent to Dave's senses, felt only as a brutal tug on the water and a sudden void in the chemical landscape where life had been moments before.
He was fast. Faster than he'd ever dreamed. But the energy cost was catastrophic. Biomass plummeted: 95%... 90%... 85% with each powerful stroke. He felt lighter, weaker, the corrosive burn on his membrane throbbing anew. He needed distance. He aimed for the towering stalks of **Aether-Reeds** near the center of the tank – a dense forest for cover.
He was halfway across the sandy expanse when disaster struck from above. Not the siphon. The violent suction and Dave's own high-speed passage had destabilized the delicate ecosystem clinging to the upper sections of the red pebble mountain. A section of loosely consolidated sand, algae, and micro-debris – a miniature landslide on his scale – sheared off from the mid-level ledge where he'd found the algal nectar.
Dave sensed the pressure wave an instant too late – a crushing weight descending from above. He twisted his cilia, trying to dodge, but his depleted energy made him sluggish. The edge of the avalanche caught him.
*CRUNCH.*
It wasn't sound, but sensation. A brutal impact, followed by searing pain. A jagged fragment of quartz, no larger than a grain of sand to a human but a boulder to Dave, slammed into his leading pseudopod, shearing it clean off. Agony, white-hot and cellular, blinded his senses. His beautiful, synchronized cilia faltered, spasming erratically. Momentum died. He tumbled, crippled, towards the sandy bottom, trailing a cloud of protoplasmic fluid and the shattered remnants of his pseudopod.
`> MAJOR STRUCTURAL DAMAGE! PSEUDOPOD 1 SEVERED!`
`> MEMBRANE INTEGRITY COMPROMISED: 15%. FLUID LOSS DETECTED.`
`> BIOMASS: 78% (CRITICAL). ENERGY RESERVES: DEPLETED.`
`> RECOMMENDATION: CEASE ALL NON-VITAL FUNCTIONS. INCLUDING PANICKING.`
Dave hit the sand with a soft *thud*, sending up a tiny plume of silt. The pain was overwhelming, a constant scream in his consciousness. He felt diminished, lopsided, leaking vital fluids into the substrate. Above, the siphon's *WHOOSH* continued its grim work, though slightly farther away now. Kael was methodically cleaning the base near the glass, moving along the perimeter. The devastation zone was expanding, but slowly. Dave had escaped the immediate vacuum, only to be crushed and crippled.
He lay there, half-buried in silt, trembling. His enhanced chemoreceptors, dulled by pain and depletion, picked up the mineral tang of the sand, the faint sweetness of distant plants, the acrid scent of his own leaking protoplasm… and something else. Tiny, intricate signatures embedded in the sand grains around him. Sharp, geometric, silica-based. **Diatoms.** Unicellular algae encased in beautiful, glass-like shells. They were immobile, photosynthesizing, utterly passive. Harmless. Useless.
*Useless…* The word echoed in his despair. AURA's earlier suggestion floated back: *Symbiosis.* Using other organisms. Not eating them. Partnering. Could he… with diatoms? They were just shells. Stuck in the sand. What could they offer?
`> DIATOM ANALYSIS: PHOTOSYNTHETIC CAPABILITY (LOW). SILICA SHELL (DEFENSIVE).`
`> POTENTIAL SYMBIOTIC APPLICATION: INTEGRATION OF SILICA FRAGMENTS INTO MEMBRANE FOR STRUCTURAL REINFORCEMENT/REPAIR.`
`> RISK: REJECTION. ENERGY COST FOR INTEGRATION. POSSIBLE REDUCED FLEXIBILITY.`
Silica. Glass. Like a shell. Like armor. Repair. Dave looked at the gaping wound where his pseudopod had been, the slow leak of his essence. Defense. That's what he needed. Not just speed to run, but something to *endure*. The Thickened Pellicle Membrane upgrade had been an option. Maybe this was a way… a desperate, organic way.
But how? He couldn't "integrate" them. He was an amoeba. He ate things. Absorbed them. Would absorbing diatom shells give him silica? Or just shred him from the inside?
Before he could agonize over the impossible choice, a new vibration shuddered through the sand – lighter, faster footsteps approaching the tank, stopping near Kael's position. The siphon's *WHOOSH* abruptly ceased. The crushing suction vanished, leaving an eerie stillness.
Dave felt the minute pressure waves of conversation through the water, utterly incomprehensible, no distinct voices, just muffled oscillations. But the *tone*… one set of vibrations felt tense, deferential (Kael). The other was lighter, faster, carrying an edge of… insistence? Excitement? **Princess Lyra.** She was here. Talking to Kael.
The conversation vibrations intensified. Lyra's patterns became more rapid, punctuated by sharp taps on the glass – not playful, but demanding. Kael's responses were slower, heavier, resistant. Then, a final, decisive tap from Lyra. The vibrations shifted. Kael's heavier footsteps moved away, followed by the lighter, quicker ones. They were leaving. For now.
Silence descended, broken only by the tank's normal hum. The immediate threat of the siphon was gone, withdrawn by royal intervention. Dave lay broken in the silt, leaking, biomass critically low, missing a limb, the princess's decisive tap vibrating faintly through the sand beneath him. He'd survived Kael's purge. But the cost was horrific. And the diatoms glittered around him, offering a terrifying, uncertain path to survival – a path that might rebuild him or shatter him completely. Symbiosis wasn't just a strategy anymore. It was his only hope.