The Deep knew this octopus. It was normally even-tempered and exceptionally intelligent, and it had never suffered a single injury since birth.
Through its mind, The Deep saw a hellish scene.
Schools of fish fled frantically, vast stretches of seawater ran red with blood, and familiar figures tore into one another, as though the entire ocean had gone mad.
The octopus in his arms kept trembling, its tentacles shaking as it conveyed its thoughts in broken fragments.
"They've all gone mad. They're not our friends anymore. Kevin, please don't go over there..."
The Deep's pupils contracted. A stretch of sea farther away should have been teeming with fish, but now it looked as though it had been hollowed out, leaving an eerie empty zone.
The next instant, the surface exploded with a boom, and a sailfish a full five or six meters long leaped out of the water, moving at an incredible speed that almost left an afterimage in the air.
It charged straight at an orca nearby, its pointed bill piercing the orca's body like a spear. Then it thrashed wildly, tearing the still-struggling orca to pieces in just a few movements.
"What the hell are these stupid fish doing now?" Homelander asked, his arms folded, looking utterly bored.
"Sir, I know that sailfish. It would never kill another living creature so cruelly." The Deep's face went pale.
Hovering in the air, Homelander followed his gaze. "I don't care what these fish are like. What exactly are you trying to say?"
To him, creatures this weak weren't worth his attention, no matter how vicious they became.
Just then, the sea churned violently again, and more and more creatures leaped out of the water, seemingly gripped by extreme frenzy.
Several fish had even developed bodily deformities of varying severity. Even