At the bottom of the sea, there is another world—dark, cold, and grim. The high density of water does not allow sunlight to reach the depths; the rays lose their strength halfway down. But even the vast darkness of the sea cannot prevent life from thriving within, though many believe it to be uninhabitable. The truth is that there are more living creatures underwater than above it.

Of all sizes, appearances, and forms, countless different beings live together in this shadowy world, each in its own way. But the focus of this tale will be on a small octopus gallantly wandering through the depths, hiding in crevices from any potential predator, while swiftly trying to find prey to feed on.

But this particular octopus could no longer bear the dark world it lived in. To this creature, everything seemed so insignificant and empty. It lived to survive, wandering through the vastness without any purpose, yet it was incapable of changing its routine or its life. It lived by its instincts and not by its dreams, for it acted in the way it was always programmed to act.

When it felt threatened, it would attack or flee; when it felt the need, it would seek pleasure and food. Primordial instincts dominated its actions and control, but within, the octopus had an emotional unconscious. There was a void inside it because it had lived in such an endless and repetitive cycle that it felt dead inside.

The octopus wondered about certain things, but since it wasn't rational, its questions weren't thought out; they were just there, even if it didn't realize it. A part of it that it had never seen or realized existed, but it was there. It was interesting; even though it was used to living in that depressive darkness, it felt blind to the things within itself.

The creature wanted something but didn't know what—it just wanted. While its body and instincts lived and repeated the same actions, its unconscious sought something to save it from that routine, even if it didn't know what. One day, wandering through the depths of the sea, it saw something it had never encountered in its short life before: a new creature had arrived in the ocean, one that resembled none of the thousands it had seen.

It was gigantic, with only four tentacles, and seemed to have a harder body than those it normally saw. While its marine companions seemed to flee and distance themselves from the unknown visitor, for the first time, the octopus went against its instincts and approached this being that didn't seem to want to kill or harm it. The two moved in harmony, creating a small and momentary bond.

The creature extended one of its tentacles, which had five mini-tentacles at the tip, and the octopus wrapped itself around it, feeling its texture and body, amazed by what it saw. The creature had something on its head that it had never seen before: light.

Light emanated from its head, and the octopus watched, even more amazed. They spent long minutes playing and interacting together. The new creature seemed enchanted by the little animal in its hands. Neither of them knew how to read the other's emotions, but both were having fun at that moment. Until the moment came when the creature seemed to want to say goodbye, but the octopus finally had something outside the cycle and couldn't accept losing it. It used all its strength to cling to the creature, either to make it stay or to go with it. But in any case, the animal refused to let it go.

After a long struggle, the creature finally gave in and decided to take it along. Now, the octopus's world would change drastically. They began to ascend, something the octopus didn't even know was an option.

"Oh, how wise this creature is," it thought, as the being thought outside the box in ways that made the octopus admire it. As they ascended, the world transitioned from black to blue, for they were now reaching the lighter layers of the ocean. The animal stared, dumbfounded, and now, with the light, it could see some details more clearly. Observing carefully, the octopus began to discern that much of the creature's structure was not natural.

Something on its back resembled a shell, hard and cold, but it didn't seem to hinder it in any way. The creature's body tissue seemed rubbery, like the octopus's body, but in a different way. For the first time in history, an octopus began to reason and concluded that this creature had adorned itself with something that wasn't part of its body.

"Oh, what a genius creature, so prepared, with such skill and creative ideas." They had known each other for such a short time, and already the octopus saw how many different levels of wisdom existed between them. The octopus wanted to learn more from them, wanted to see how they did things, wanted to see how they were. The octopus wanted to live with them. It was tired of its instincts, of its repetitive, dark, and cold life. It had been trapped within itself before, and when it found that being, it felt new, it felt free. It must have been destiny helping it.

This feeling of admiration that the octopus felt was new and healthy. There is nothing wrong with liking the new, the different, but it's always good to keep in mind that the different is different for a reason, and that often the wisest decision is to avoid trying to become the same. Not everything that glows in others should be reproduced in oneself; if it is, it might turn into uncontrollable and illusory greed.

The creature explored alongside the octopus, even beyond the ocean, placing it in a glass tank filled with water. The octopus then began to see how different and vast the world was. So many colors, so many different creatures, not just like its friend, but other beings it had never known. While living in its glass tank, the octopus was constantly visited by its friend and also by the creature's offspring, as well as other adult creatures. Always curious and joyful, the octopus greeted them with a handshake, they would place their tentacles in the water so that it could wrap itself around them.

In that glass tank, the animal watched closely the life and movements of its new friends. As it watched, something akin to anxiety grew; its world was limited to just that small space while there was a vast world outside to explore. It was so different from all the octopuses in the sea; it felt as if it was the only one who cared and thought. But no matter how much it tried, it wouldn't become a human. Its tentacles wouldn't change, its skin wouldn't take on the same texture as theirs. The truth was that it was an octopus, and even if it tried to deny that, reality wouldn't bend to its will.

It was so unfair—it hadn't asked to be born, much less as such a forgotten and limited creature, an animal that couldn't even breathe the same air as its friends, an animal that couldn't venture with those strange beings when they left through the door.

So why? It was something it couldn't accept; it lived a life it never asked for. It had simply been thrown into that world and couldn't even choose how to live it? That was so bitter, so sad and stressful. Why?

The octopus agonized, a year passed with it and its thoughts trapped inside a glass tank. It only knew that area and what it could see around it. During that year, the creature's offspring would come to interact with it, or around it, playing, laughing. The octopus didn't understand anything they were saying, but it felt so happy when it was in their midst, it forgot that it wasn't a creature like them. Even though it couldn't act as if they were like it, they acted as if it were like them.

Until one day, a new creature it had never seen before appeared in the room where it was. It was so cute, and its smile was so pure. It approached the tank and placed both hands on the glass wall. Its mouth began to move, saying something the octopus didn't understand.

"You are quite miserable," whispered the girl, still looking with false tenderness at the animal. "To wish to be something you are not... denying the truth is the most foolish and desperate act a human being can commit. The world is as it is, and the truth was, is, and always will be the same, regardless of what you do. It is true that a tree is alive, but it is also true that it will die. The two do not cancel each other out; they are not two different truths—they are both just the truth. The truth is everything as it is. The truth is equivalent to reality itself. Trying to change something that is, is nothing but futile."

As the girl spoke alone, feelings arose in the octopus. It didn't understand anything she was saying, but a huge anxiety and despair began to take control of its heart. The animal froze as it continued to look at the falsely gentle face.

"Not even humans can change the truth. They can understand its rules and learn to live within them, but they will never be able to make something happen outside the rules of truth. You want to be like them, octopus. That only shows how foolish you are. Humans want to be independent, to have control over reality, over the truth. All humans want that in some way. It is one of their greatest hopes. They refuse to serve; they want to rule. They don't accept the life they have, and that's why they want to change it until they find perfection. And you are just as stupid as they are. You should learn to accept things as they are."

So, while feeling all that anguish devouring his heart, the octopus finally began to understand what the young girl was telling him, though curiously, her speech had now shifted slightly.

"Poor thing, the truth is so cruel to you; it simply toys with your life, and you can't confront it. If only it weren't so powerful, maybe you could do something new, be something new."

The octopus said nothing, as he couldn't speak, but he thought about how the girl seemed to sympathize with and understand him. And the girl seemed to have noticed.

"But you know, you can deny it if you want. If you don't accept something, it's okay to make it adapt to you. If you're an octopus who wants to be a human, then that's fine: you are a human."

"I'm a human?" the animal thought, feeling a bit emotional. So that was the name of that fascinating race, and one of them was even recognizing him, but... "That's not true... even if you call me a human, I'm not one."

"And why does it matter what's true or not? What matters is that you're happy. Why should you be forced to live by rules you never asked for? There's a way for you to get rid of these horrible laws; you just need to change reality."

"Me? An octopus? Change reality? That's impossible."

"Nothing is impossible, little one, and did you forget? You're a human, as you wish to be. If you want, I can help you fulfill your desire. I'll call you Octo, The Human; your despair is your illusion, and your hope is the destruction of the virtue of truth. Come, you will be one of my generals, and in the future, you will grasp your hope."

"Thank you so much, thank you very much, girl, will you take me with you?"

"Hihihi, no, it's almost dinner time, and this family is cannibalistic, so I hope you can prepare yourself, Octo."

The girl left, and the feast in that house was magnificent.