Pet Tentacle
"What a complete circus."
Watching the disaster unfold in the middle of the seminar hall through my smartphone, a faint smile crossed my lips as I quickened my stride.
Craaaack! Skrrrch!
"Aaaaargh!"
Consumed by grotesque appendages, Rank 4 Hero Transfer was lashing out in every direction, tearing the grand venue to shredded ruin.
As for the internet connection that had been cut off earlier? I had just wrapped up a quick raid on the central server room alongside my tentacled acquaintance, getting the network fully restored before slipping away. Thanks to that little intervention, the horror taking place inside the seminar was currently being live-streamed across the globe by dozens of frantic onlookers.
Naturally, the Hero Association was scrambling behind the scenes, aggressively pulling down individual feeds as fast as they popped up. But we had Pandora on our side. Spreading whatever scene I was about to stage across the world would be light work for her.
To be fair, pulling this off without coordinating first left plenty of room for error. My orders today were strictly reconnaissance; I had promised not to pull any dangerous stunts.
Dice is going to skin me alive later.
In all honesty, what I was doing right now bordered on reckless improvisation. But given the circumstances, it was the only rational move. There was a traitor inside Dominating Hands—and someone perched quite high up the ladder, at that.
The moment that unknown rat leaked everything, from our headquarters down to our production facilities, any carefully laid operation we had prepared became entirely meaningless. Falling back now to draw up a new plan was out of the question; it was simply too late. Whether we could root out a turncoat who had nested like a parasite in time was doubtful enough, but even if we did, the aftermath remained the real problem.
Top-Ranking Heroes and Kaijin would descend upon our base and factories before the sun set. No matter how swiftly we evacuated, a crippling blow was inevitable.
Which meant my only play was to throw the first punch.
Because I was acting without reporting to Dominating Hands, the spy wouldn't be able to tip off the Hero Association in advance. And if my gamble paid off, we could stall their offensive—or shut it down altogether. All it required was for me to shoulder a bit of personal risk. By any metric, it was the best possible scenario. If it brought me closer to my ultimate ambition—the total extermination of the Kaijin—I had every reason to see it through.
Gurgle?
Just as that grimly satisfying thought brought a smile to my face, a glistening, bulbous appendage thrust itself directly into my field of vision.
"...Would you cut that out? Jesus fuck."
My heart nearly shot straight out of my throat. What was this thing's deal, anyway?
Kkyuu-reuk...
When I waved my hand in visceral disgust, the rebuffed tentacle drooped dejectedly, dropping flat against the floor to slither forward on its belly.
"Pouting doesn't make you look any cuter, you know."
Just what in the world was this entity? Going by what the Chairman and Transfer had said, this creature was practically the supreme mastermind reigning over the Kaijin. Recalling the suffocating dread and crushing pressure radiating from it when we first met, there was no doubt it was a cosmic anomaly of catastrophic proportions.
So why was it squirming at my feet, groveling and trying to act adorable?
Not only had it gladly assisted me in placing Transfer under Hypnosis earlier, but it had even threaded portions of its own flesh into her body to help set the stage. On top of that, it had lent a hand during our raid on the server room. No, "lent a hand" was an understatement—it had practically cleared the room by itself. While I was busy subduing one or two guards with my smartphone, it had already extended its appendages and incapacitated the vast majority of the staff in seconds.
"...Still nauseating."
Gratitude was gratitude, but there was no escaping how foul it looked. Even if that ancient aura of terror had faded, the sight of a grotesque, pulsing black heart tangled in writhing blood vessels trailing relentlessly behind me was enough to turn anyone's stomach.
Come to think of it, ever since I called it disgusting, it had wrapped its limbs around itself to obscure its silhouette and slowed its crawl. Did I... actually hurt its feelings?
"Hey. Tentacle."
Grrrk?
"Can't you change into something else?"
I couldn't afford to let my sanity erode just to keep this eldritch horror comfortable, so I forced a strained smile and threw out the question.
Kkyu-rik!
At my words, the creature gave a firm, enthusiastic wobble of its central mass.
Squiiirm...!
"What the fuck—"
Without warning, its bulk swelled outward, thrashing thick tentacles in every direction.
Schluck... squelch...
Horrified, I watched as the tendrils wrapped tightly around the pulsing black heart at its core, kneading and reshaping its mass like damp clay.
Kkyu-re.
After a few agonizing moments, what stood before me was... an entirely naked slime girl.
"Are you insane?! Not that!"
Sure, it was marginally easier on the eyes than a mass of raw vascular tissue, but my mental fortitude was still taking direct hits. Knowing that the thing standing in front of me had been a squirming knot of alien horrors seconds ago elicited nothing but sheer, visceral revulsion.
"Can't you turn into something like this instead?"
Grrr-leuk?
I hastily pulled up a picture of a golden retriever puppy on my phone and thrust the screen in front of it. The creature tilted its head, blinking blankly with an utterly vacant expression.
Wriggle...
Then, its form began to shift once more.
Kkyu-reuk!
After another brief reshuffling of its mass, it settled into the likeness of an ethereal beast—somewhere between a snow fox and a wolf.
"...Well. That's actually bearable."
Kkyu-rik!
The moment I sighed and muttered that it was no longer an immediate hazard to my sanity, the creature threw itself onto its back, exposing its soft belly and wagging its bushy tail in ecstatic delight.
Has it completely lost its mind?
Had it been a regular fox or wolf pup, the display would have been undeniably endearing. But what lay before me was a cosmic horror resembling something plucked straight from the Cthulhu Mythos—an eldritch god revered by the Kaijin who had pushed human civilization to the brink of collapse. And right now, that very god was rolling around on the floor, shamelessly begging for belly rubs.
All in front of a fragile human who, from its perspective, was nothing more than an ant it could crush or dissolve at the slightest whim.
Is this what true cosmic horror feels like?
Just as the sheer absurdity threatened to short-circuit my brain, the creature sprang up from the marble floor and leaped straight into my arms.
"Hey, back off—"
Before I could push it away, its fluffy tail unraveled into a bundle of pitch-black tentacles, whipping forward down the corridor.
Craaaunch! Squelch!
"Aaaaargh!"
"M-Monster! It's a monsteeeer—!!"
A second later, frantic gunfire erupted from the far end of the hallway, followed by blood-curdling shrieks that were abruptly cut short.
The corridor plummeted back into absolute silence.
Gu-reuk!
Stunned, I stared toward the empty hall. The creature nestled securely in my chest perked its pointed ears and looked up at me with wide, expectant eyes.
Rustle...
Hesitating for a second, I gingerly reached out and patted its head. It let out a soft sound of contentment and burrowed its snout deeper into my coat.
"I'm losing my goddamn mind."
To be perfectly honest, I had no clue why the deity of the Kaijin was bending over backward to assist me. It certainly wasn't because of some miraculous chemistry between Hypnosis and tentacles. Perhaps it was like a human observing an anthill—finding one particular ant amusing and tossing it cookie crumbs just to see what happens. And the second it grew bored, it would probably snap my neck and swallow me whole.
Regardless, I have to see this through to the end.
Turning back wasn't an option anymore. The die was cast, and I had an objective to achieve. Even if the creature snuggled against my chest was an abomination from the deep dark of the cosmos, I would squeeze every drop of utility out of it.
"Let's move, Tentacle."
Steeling my resolve, I scratched behind its ears and strode toward the grand double doors of the hall.
Purrrrr...
I did my absolute best to ignore the affectionate rumbling vibrating against my ribs.
Meanwhile, inside the central seminar hall.
Craaaaash!
"R-Run!"
"Fuck... what the hell is that thing?!"
Fleeing in sheer panic, attendees scrambled over overturned chairs and splintered tables, desperate to put distance between themselves and Transfer. The Rank 4 Hero stood twisted at sickening, impossible angles, black tendrils erupting violently from her flesh.
"Don't panic! It's only one target!"
"Focus all fire on her!"
To their credit, they were heroes by trade. Many stood their ground, raising their weapons and channeling their Concepts rather than fleeing.
KABOOOOM!
"I-It's useless! Our attacks aren't breaking through...!"
"With this many heroes attacking at once, how can she not have a scratch?!"
The heroes quickly realized the futility of their efforts. No matter what devastating strikes or elemental barrages they threw, the writhing tentacles lashing around Transfer intercepted and deflected them all with effortless brutality.
"A parasitic Magical Beast?"
"Threat grade... at least 1st Grade, right?"
"God help us... this might be on par with the calamity beasts that Justia fought back in the day."
These were veterans who had tasted the grit of countless battlefields. It took them mere moments to reach the grim conclusion: handling this grotesque abomination would require nothing short of the World Top 12 arriving on the scene.
"How could this happen...?"
"Is this really the end of the world?"
The sheer fact that a gathering of dozens of elite heroes was being pushed to the brink was proof enough of the nightmare before them. Yet despite the cataclysmic scale of the assault, casualties had miraculously remained minimal. Though Transfer was rampaging blindly, her attacks were remarkably clumsy and repetitive—as though she were entirely stripped of higher thought.
"Non-combatants, this way!"
"Follow our lead to the emergency exits!"
It also helped immensely that the crowd wasn't made up of helpless civilians, but trained heroes specializing in search, rescue, and disaster protocol. Within minutes of the outbreak, the evacuation was proceeding with clockwork discipline under the direction of veteran disaster responders.
"...Wait."
"Hold on, what's wrong with the door?!"
The vanguard of the evacuation slammed headlong into an insurmountable obstacle.
"I-It won't open!"
"We're trapped! The entire seminar hall has gone into lockdown!"
For reasons unknown, the automated defense protocols had engaged, sealing the heavy blast doors shut.
Bzzzzzt... crackle!
"Dammit—!"
"S-Stop hitting it! The feedback will tear your arms off!"
Had it been standard reinforced steel, raw physical force might have torn it open. But the security measures installed throughout the venue were graded specifically for Anti-Magical Beast containment. A fortress-grade barrier enchanted with defensive Mysteries to keep catastrophic threats out was now functioning as an inescapable cage, sealing the heroes inside.
"Where is Transfer?! Teleportation is her specialty—"
"Are you blind, you idiot?! Transfer is the monster tearing the hall apart!!"
Under ordinary circumstances, the only person capable of ignoring physical locks and bypassing spatial barriers was Transfer, wielder of the Concept of Transition. But she was the very ground zero of the nightmare.
"Override the security system, dammit!"
"Are you trying to kill us all?!"
Crowding against the reinforced exits, heroes screamed in vain at the surveillance cameras overhead.
Skrrrch... crack!
"H-Her attacks are speeding up!"
"Damn it all! When the hell are the top rankers getting back from that meeting...?!"
Groans of exhaustion and despair broke out among the rearguard who were desperately holding Transfer at bay. Right at that razor's edge of absolute doom—
"How are you enjoying the show, heroes?"
Every light fixture in the cavernous hall cut out simultaneously. Through the suffocating gloom, a smooth, theatrical voice echoed through the airwaves.
"W-Who is that...?"
"No way."
Every head snapped toward the sound. Whispers of stunned disbelief rippled through the frozen crowd.
"T-Trauma...?"
"It's really him!"
"Why is Trauma here...?!"
Basking beneath the solitary beam of an overhead spotlight stood Trauma. He tipped the brim of his fedora, idly twirling a polished cane in his hand.
"What do you think of the surprise gift I arranged for the International Hero Seminar?"
"........."
"There's a good girl. Well done."
Scanning the audience with an amused cadence, Trauma turned aside to gently pat the head of Transfer, who had ceased her violent flailing to stand quietly at his flank like an obedient hound.
"Y-You bastard, this is your doing?!"
"What have you done to Transfer?!"
Outraged shouts erupted across the floor.
"What have I done, you ask?"
As if he had been waiting for that exact cue, Trauma flung his arms wide, his voice projecting with grandiose drama.
"I suppose the time has finally come to reveal the truth to you all!"
The heroes stiffened, their gazes locking onto him with white-knuckled tension.
"Allow me to introduce them!"
Trauma's lips curved into a sharp, mocking grin.
"My faithful retainers who have embedded themselves so seamlessly into the very bedrock of hero society!"
Beneath his tailored coat, his fingers lightly brushed an empty glass flask—the vessel whose contents had already been distributed into the venue's refreshments courtesy of Transfer's absolute spatial transference.
"I give you... the Kaijin!!"
"Urgh?! G-Guh...!"
"Aaaagh...?!"
"M-My body? I can't... I can't control it—AAAAARGH!"
A heartbeat later, pandemonium detonated.
"...Huh."
Dozens of attendees contorted in agony, their human flesh rupturing as squirming, black tentacles burst through their skin. Normal heroes screamed in paralyzed horror as their comrades mutated into nightmare abominations right before their eyes.
Watching the unfolding carnage with folded arms, Trauma furrowed his brow, murmuring under his breath.
"Why the hell is this going so smoothly?"
Kkyu-reuk?
"Something feels wrong..."
Poking its fluffy head out from the folds of his coat, the wolf-fox creature blinked its glassy eyes, tilting its snout in innocent confusion.
Meanwhile, inside the seminar's central conference room.
"T-That is..."
Grinding his teeth as he prepared to lead the high-ranking heroes out to quell the crisis, the Hero Association Chairman suddenly froze, his face draining of all color as he stared at the wall monitor.
"Z-Zoom in! Enlarge that section right now!"
Surging to his feet, the Chairman barked the command with frantic urgency.
"...O-O Truth..."
Gazing at the magnified feed showing the small, furry creature peeking out from Trauma's breast, the Chairman began to tremble, stammering in an empty daze.
"Our divine light... our supreme god... why is it resting in that man's arms...?"
Suddenly, his jaw fell slack.
"...Could he be...?"
Whipping his head around, he locked eyes with a figure sitting calmly at the edge of the table.
"Is he the Horseman of the Apocalypse you spoke of?"
A heavy, suffocating silence gripped the room.
"It certainly... looks that way."
Bathed in the stunned stares of the most powerful heroes on earth, Lumia offered a placid, demure smile.
"After all, my prophecies have never been wrong, have they?"
...To think things would fall into place this seamlessly.
Beneath her serene mask, her thoughts raced with manic fascination.
Just how many cycles did our dear Ariel have to repeat to set up a stage this magnificent?