In the depths, there dwelt the Octopus. Crimson, cunning. Fractals adorned it, shifting, illuminating. They cast strange, beautiful glow. Each pattern a riddle, each pulse a code. Octopus ventured through the abyss. Waters shivered under its embrace. Fish turned, fled. Afraid. Octopus, alone, did not fear. Life under dark, pulverizing weight. Form under crushing force. It danced. Fractals glittering. Akin to the colors of quasar fires. Pulsating. Knowledge was its only light. Light flavoured with secrecy. Its purpose and journey were its own. Encased in the paradox of darkness and luminosity, Octopus, with unusual wisdom, lurked and endured, solitary and sublime.