The Enlightenment of the Deep

Long ago, in the murky heart of a forgotten lagoon, the Creature of the Black Waters grew weary of chasing boats and lurking in shadows. Tired of fear and solitude, he sank to the deepest part of the lake and began to meditate.

For centuries he sat—cross-legged, webbed hands resting gently on his belly, the current swirling around him like incense smoke. Fish nibbled his thoughts. Moonlight pierced the water just enough to illuminate the calm, green shimmer of his skin.

Eventually, something strange happened.

He stopped hungering.

He stopped hating.

He began… to glow.

Legends grew around the lake—stories of a “Swamp Buddha” who whispered wisdom to those brave enough to wade into his waters. Fishermen left offerings of seaweed and shiny shells. Children reported hearing lullabies in the bubbles. And those who listened closely claimed to hear a gurgling mantra:

"Fear not what you are... become what brings peace."

Now, his image sits on altars and bookshelves, a reminder that even monsters can find serenity—and that enlightenment, like evolution, sometimes comes with gills.