A chime echoed through the depths. Instantly, I was awake and alert: we were being hunted. With a swish of my tail, I signalled for everyone to retreat deeper, away from me. I knew this machine, and I knew that my brethren were too small to be noticed by it. But I…I was huge. Being unseen was a luxury I would not have.

The chime rang out again, reverberating through my bones. I swam towards it: if they wished to find me, then find me they would.

The third chime was painfully loud. I was here. Very little light permeated these depths, but my eyes were large: I could see them, a whole fleet of metal ships built to pass under the water, within my domain. I had to admire humanity's audacity, and it pained me to admit that I could no longer counter that boldness as easily as I had in my glory days of tearing apart the wooden ships that had once frequented the waves. There was no longer anyone old enough to remember those days…well, anyone besides me.

I heard the rushing sound of the first torpedo being fired before I saw its trail snaking towards me. Steeling myself, I waited in place for a moment, letting it get closer. I was trembling…but the machine wouldn't be able to detect my fear. And just before I would have been blown to pieces, I dove, the thrust of my tail creating a powerful current, guiding the torpedo to change its course. Another thrust, and it was rocketing back towards the vessel that had fired it.

I clasped my hands over my ears as it made impact, but the explosion was still deafening, and the water was filled with bubbles and light as the water rocked around me.

I hoped they'd learn from that and choose not to fire any more. I gave them a few seconds. When they didn't fire, I knew: it was my turn to attack.

As I wrapped my arms around the vessel and began to squeeze, I realised just how much stronger humanity's vessels had become. A grip like this would have been enough to shatter a sailing ship in seconds, and yet this metal would not yield.

With a growl, I began to dig my fingers into the sides, denting the metal but still not rupturing it. I could hear the blaring of an alarm from within, although the sound was interrupted by yet another deafening chime. Instinctively, my arms jerked, and I felt the hull twisting beneath my grip.

Could this work? I wrapped my tail around the back of the vessel while tightening my arms around the front, and as I twisted, I felt the metal beginning to rupture, bubbles leaking out as the hull lost pressure, tickling my skin. Letting out a roar, I gave it one final twist and let the vehicle explode into several pieces, the air bursting outwards in a cloud of bubbles, the fragments of the destroyed machine shooting off in every direction.

There were bodies floating around me, amidst the debris. But I didn't stop and eat…they would have been rendered inedible by the pressure this deep, and besides, there were three vessels left.

Several torpedoes fired at once. I ducked and twisted in between the trails, grabbing one metal hull in my hand as I wrapped my tail around another. I pulled the first closer to my face and bit in, discovering to my relief that yes, my teeth were sharp enough to cut through the metal. Air gushed out of the gashes I'd carved in the hull, temporarily blinding me—and I had to rely on sound to swing the vessel in my tail into the path of an oncoming torpedo.

Only one of the vessels remained, and it seemed to have realised the situation they were in, turning and firing its propeller to flee. I was almost tempted to let it go, to deliver the customary message to humanity that the sea was beyond conquering. But this was far too close of a call, and if there were any survivors, the next fleet that would come to kill me and my people would be even more powerful. But if they all disappeared without a trace, then they could easily be taken for having simply been killed by other enemy humans. I wasn't a fool—I knew these vehicles weren't built specifically to go up against me. The humans were fighting each other, using my ocean as a battleground.

I swam behind the last vessel, quickly catching up and thrusting my hand into the propeller, feeling the metal break against my skin before pushing in even further, breaking through the hull. I could feel individual humans inside—some firing bullets into my fingers, others winding up caught between my hand and the walls. A quick jerk of my arm was enough to silence them, and when I pulled my hand out of the ship the water rushed in to take care of any survivors.

I could feel my gills flaring—I could barely get enough oxygen after that intense of a battle. As the last ship slowly sank along with its drowned crew, my people arrived and assembled. They were here—and that's what I was fighting for.

Slowly, I swam up—I wanted to see them properly, not just in the dark depths. And they followed, and as we rose I was able to see them in colour once again: hair of silver and gold, scales of purple and orange and red, skin of tan and brown, robes woven from sea grass. Even in the depths, even when there would be no hope of seeing colour…our many colours remain. As will we, even in an ever-evolving world.