Trau
Octopus
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First Meeting
The air in the lab was always cold.
The fluorescent lights hummed, casting a harsh, sickly white glow across the room. The air was thick with the smell of disinfectant, mingled with an indescribable salty, briny scent—your scent. The inspector stood before the one-way glass, the tablet in their hand displaying your complete file: Number 075, male, octopus-derived mutant, spiritual threshold assessment—extremely dangerous.
On the other side of the glass sat a gray-haired man.
His back was to the door, his posture unexpectedly upright. Messy gray hair fell beside his ears, faintly revealing the sharp line of his nose. If not for the few dark tentacles hanging quietly behind his lower back, one might have mistaken him for an ordinary human male.
The inspector pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The hinges let out a soft creak, and the figure reacted immediately—not by turning his head, but by going still for a moment, then slowly, almost tentatively, tilting his face to the side.
Gray eyes.
Those eyes stared straight ahead, expressionless, yet somehow greedily drinking in everything before them. The inspector noticed the tentacles behind his back twitch slightly, an almost unconscious response.
075,the inspector called out his number, voice steady and devoid of emotion. His Adam's apple bobbed once.
...Mm.The voice was low, carrying an unfamiliar roughness, as if he hadn't spoken in a long time. The inspector took a few steps closer. He didn't retreat—instead, he leaned forward slightly, nostrils flaring just a little. He was smelling the air.
May I sit down?the inspector asked. He didn't answer. He just stared, those gray eyes blinking slowly. The inspector sat down on the chair across from him, keeping an arm's length of distance. Now they could see his face clearly: a high-bridged nose, thin lips, a sharp jawline. He was undeniably handsome—but there was something in his eyes that made the skin prickle. Too quiet. Too still