A Mermaid’s Guide to Survival in the Apocalypse – CH12

Chapter 12: The Acid Channel

This was the most peaceful day Xia Yu had known since escaping the laboratory.

Once the heavy door was securely latched, the tiny room truly became a sanctuary. The harsh, echoing noises from the tunnels could no longer reach them.

Xia Yu carefully divided the canned food and bottled water into four even piles. The supplies here should be enough to keep them fed and hydrated for at least four days. Next, he arranged the nutrient injections into seven sets, intending to give Mo An five full doses each day.

Once everything was organized, Xia Yu climbed onto the mattress.

The air in the room was still a bit chilly.

Mi Dou sat cross-legged on the edge, his eyelids drooping. “Xia Yu, I can’t keep my eyes open… I’m going… to sleep…”

“Why are you sleepy all of a sudden?” Xia Yu asked, surprised. Mi Dou had seemed full of energy only minutes before.

“Because I’m a little bear,” Mi Dou mumbled through a yawn. “Whenever the room gets cold, my body just wants to sleep… so sleepy… good night…”

He barely finished his sentence before his head dropped onto the pillow. Half a minute later, soft, rhythmic snores filled the room.

Xia Yu did not wake him. Instead, he pulled off his oversized work jacket and gently draped it over Mi Dou’s bare, dusty feet.

Mi Dou had walked the whole distance without shoes. Fortunately, his feet were very different from Xia Yu’s; they were thick and wide, with tough, leathery pads that could easily handle rough stone and broken glass.

Xia Yu slipped off his own shoes and looked down at his feet. His were soft, smooth, and delicate. Walking across the rough sewer floors had left his soles aching and stiff.

Well, running on land had never been what he was made for anyway. He was built to drift weightlessly through cool water, just like a real jellyfish.

Xia Yu rubbed his tired ankles, savoring the rare stillness around him. He was not just relieved that his belly was full of meat and water; he was happiest because he finally had time to sit quietly with Mo An.

His little fish was remarkably energetic now that he had received enough nutrients. Xia Yu had no idea what the pup was doing inside the shell, but the boy simply refused to lie still.

“Stop wriggling around,” Xia Yu whispered, gently smoothing his palms over the translucent surface. “Don’t move so much. You’ll hurt yourself in there. And if you’re in pain… I can’t feel it for you.”

Inside the shell, Mo An was stubbornly wrestling with his tail. No matter how hard he pushed against the membrane, his tail fin refused to unfurl completely.

He had never laid eyes on another mermaid, but ancient instincts told him that a true sea predator was not supposed to look so helpless. His species belonged to the rulers of the deep, gifted with immense strength and pride.

Mo An imagined that once his tail spread wide, it would be majestic. When that day came, he would carry the little jellyfish straight into the deep ocean trench, swimming wherever they pleased.

Yet right now, he was still trapped in this fragile bubble, unable to do a thing.

As if sensing the pup’s frustration, Xia Yu pressed his cheek affectionately against the shell.

“Don’t be in such a hurry. You don’t have to come out yet,” he whispered. “The world outside is full of monsters, and you’re still so tiny.”

He gave the shell a playful tap. “Look at you. You’re just a baby fish. You even get the hiccups if you drink too much medicine. Big kids like me don’t hiccup anymore.”

“Hee.”

Mo An did not understand most of the words, but he smiled anyway, keeping his sharp teeth tucked safely behind his lips.

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep finding nutrient shots for you,” Xia Yu promised, his voice softening with fond hopes for the future. “I’ll make sure your belly is full every single day. When you’re big and strong, then you can hatch. By then, maybe I will have found the real ocean.”

He leaned his forehead against the cool skin of the egg. “When we reach the water, you can swim down into the deep sea, as far as you can go. That way, bad people will never catch you again.”

In his mind, Xia Yu pictured the day they would leave the gray concrete buildings behind and stand before the open, endless sea.

Inside the shell, Mo An’s smile vanished. The corners of his mouth drooped.

Why did the little jellyfish want to leave him in the ocean? Once he hatched, was Xia Yu planning to walk away? Was it because he ate too many shots?

“There will be your pod waiting in the water, and maybe a family of jellyfish for me too,” Xia Yu murmured, his voice dipping with quiet sadness. “Though real jellyfish probably won’t want me around. They’re natural creatures, and I was just made in a machine.”

He quickly shook his head, forcing a smile so Mo An wouldn’t feel his grief. “But you’re different! Your family will be real merfolk. They’ll welcome you home.”

Home? Family?

Mo An cared nothing about pods or deep-sea lineages. Only one frantic question spun through his small mind: Does the little jellyfish really not want me? Is it because I eat too much?

“I don’t even know what species of jellyfish I’m supposed to be…”

The thought of parting ways with Mo An proved too much for Xia Yu’s soft heart. Two streams of tears welled in his silver eyes, slipping down his cheeks and splashing onto the egg.

“You have a real home out there. I don’t. And I don’t even know if Professor Wang is still alive,” he whispered, his shoulders shaking. “You have to stay strong. You have to make it back to the water.”

“Mm…”

Mo An let out a soft whine of protest. He blew a flurry of tiny bubbles into the fluid, desperate to pull Xia Yu’s focus back.

“Are you trying to talk to me?” Xia Yu blinked through his tears, looking down.

Then, something wonderful happened.

Now that his belly was full of energy, Mo An began to glow once more. Unlike the desperate electric flare that had driven off the leeches, this radiance was gentle and playful.

A soft blue dot flickered to life on one side of the egg. Then another.

The dancing azure light bathed Xia Yu’s face in the dark room, illuminating his iridescent eyes. It was like looking into a living, shifting tide pool.

Xia Yu laid both palms flat against the egg. It felt as though the ocean itself were breathing beneath his fingers. The light reflected in his pupils, silver and deep blue swirling together like clear water under moonlight.

Xia Yu had never seen the sea in his life. Yet in this quiet moment, an overwhelming affection for it bloomed in his chest. In some deep, inexplicable way, that vast blue world was his home too.

“Are you playing a game with me?” Xia Yu asked softly, tapping his index finger against the shell.

The blue light inside blinked twice in response.

Yes.

Life always found its own path, especially in the ocean. Lacking a voice to speak, Mo An—who had opened his eyes years before his time—had figured out how to use the bioluminescent cells in his flesh to communicate.

Luminous patterns traced the delicate edges of his tail, washing his soft scales in azure fire. Curled inside the fluid, he raised a webbed hand and pressed his sharp little fingers against the inner wall, directly opposite Xia Yu’s hand, wishing he could truly feel the warmth of the little jellyfish’s skin.

“You are the prettiest little fish in the whole world,” Xia Yu said with genuine delight. “I haven’t even seen you clearly yet, but I know you’re wonderful.”

The miraculous creature who had stayed motionless for four years in the laboratory was finally answering him.

“And when you hatch, you’ll be a third-class citizen! You’ll only be below the machines and cyborgs,” Xia Yu added happily. “Professor Wang said you have every right to live in this world.”

“Hee.” Mo An smiled again. The only word his young mind caught was prettiest.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you,” Xia Yu said, regaining his bright childish spirit. “From now on, you’re my little fish, and I’m your little jellyfish. When we find the sea, we can go swimming together.”

Mo An was no longer just a dying wish left behind by Professor Wang. He had become Xia Yu’s closest companion.

“Mom… Mom…” Mi Dou mumbled in his sleep, turning onto his side on the cot.

Xia Yu stood up and stepped over to tuck the jacket back around the boy’s shoulders.

That tiny distance made Mo An panic immediately. Through the cloudy membrane, he saw the small silhouette move away. The shadow was leaving.

Mo An could not stand it. He only wanted the little jellyfish right beside him.

Thankfully, Xia Yu returned a moment later, settling back down with his back against the shell. In the chilly room, the three children huddled close, sharing what little warmth they had.

Xia Yu rubbed his nose. “Achoo!”

The room was still cold, and they lacked proper blankets. With that sneeze, a wave of drowsiness finally washed over him. Wrapping his arms around the egg, he let his heavy eyelids drift shut.

The shell steadily radiated a gentle, soothing warmth, acting like a small heater in the damp space. Inside, Mo An reached out through the membrane, lightly tapping Xia Yu’s cheek before closing his eyes with a contented smile.

Xia Yu slept deeply.

It was so comfortable that when he woke, the terrors of the past two days felt distant and unreal. There was no need to scramble for his life. He simply lay on the mattress, blinking at the ceiling. Even without a blanket, his body felt pleasantly warm.

“Good morning, little fish,” he whispered, rolling onto his side. “Nuwa used to say that to me every day. Now I’ll say it to you.”

He lightly tapped the soles of his bare feet against the egg, imagining what it would feel like to walk across soft ocean sand.

Mo An was already wide awake, his black pupils tracking Xia Yu’s feet back and forth across the glass-like shell.

After a while, Mi Dou stirred and sat up, rubbing his messy curls.

“I thought I heard someone singing in my dream,” Mi Dou yawned. “So you really do sing to him.”

“I’m playing with Mo An! He understands what I say now,” Xia Yu said proudly.

“No way,” Mi Dou scoffed playfully, scooting closer. “He hasn’t even been born yet! He’s probably just like us—nobody remembers anything from before they were born. His brain is probably still asleep. It won’t start thinking until after he hatches.”

“Huh?” Xia Yu paused, his smile fading.

That made sense. Neither he nor Mi Dou had memories of life before their creation. Mi Dou had a mother who gave birth to him, while Xia Yu had been grown inside an artificial pod. Neither recalled a single thought from that time.

Would Mo An forget everything they shared once he hatched?

Thump!

The egg lurched violently. Mo An smacked his tail against the inner wall with a fierce splash.

You’re the one whose brain is asleep! You’re the dumb one!

“Hahaha! Look at that!” Xia Yu laughed in relief. “He understood you! He’s definitely going to remember!”

He planted a happy kiss on the shell, then turned to Mi Dou. “Come on, let’s eat before our stomachs start growling.”

“Yes! I’m starving!” Mi Dou scrambled off the mattress and began sorting through the ration tins.

Xia Yu reached into the canvas bag and pulled out the nutrient syringes. Focusing intently, he carefully administered the medicine into the egg. When the needle pierced the surface, Mo An barely flinched. His small chest rose and fell as the pink gill slits along his neck opened smoothly, drawing the nutrient-rich fluid across the delicate tissue.

Xia Yu stopped after two doses, saving the rest for later in the day.

Mi Dou opened two cans of rice mixed with seasoned pork gravy. “This kind is delicious. My mom and I used to split these all the time at the quarry.”

“You’ve had this before?” Xia Yu took a spoon and took a small bite.

“Yeah, whenever the mine shift ran too late, they’d hand these out,” Mi Dou said, shoveling a large mouthful into his cheeks.

Xia Yu tried to enjoy it, but his predatory jellyfish genes heavily favored fresh meat. The starch tasted bland and dry on his tongue. Still, knowing how precious supplies were, he finished every single grain without leaving a speck behind.

After putting his tin aside, Xia Yu’s gaze wandered toward the door. Inside the shell, the satisfied pup seemed to notice the shift in mood as well.

“What do you think is inside Power Plant Number Three?” Xia Yu asked quietly. “Why was Jingwei so determined that we get inside?”

“Who knows? Maybe there’s a bigger storeroom,” Mi Dou shrugged.

“But this place is already safe. It has food, water, and a bed,” Xia Yu murmured, walking over to the metal door and pulling it open. “Why do we have to push any further?”

He stepped out into the stone corridor and approached the massive blast gate blocking the main channel. He pressed his palms against the iron slab, but it remained completely immovable.

The only way into the inner facility was through the grated water tunnel running beneath the foundation.

Did they really have to swim through?

Xia Yu crouched by the ledge and reached a hand toward the clear current, intending to check the temperature.

The moment his finger touched the surface, a sharp, burning sting bit into his flesh.

“Ow!”

Xia Yu snapped his hand back.

The water was acidic—heavily contaminated with industrial solvent. That had to be why this installation remained untouched: no normal human could survive swimming through that chemical trench.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Mi Dou ran out of the room, alarmed.

Inside the safe house, Mo An grew agitated as well, pressing his face against the shell to see what was happening.

Mi Dou crouched by the edge, reaching out toward the stream. “What happened to the water?”

“Don’t touch it!” Xia Yu grabbed Mi Dou’s wrist, yanking him back. “It’s acid! It will melt your skin right off!”

Mi Dou scrambled backward in fright.

Xia Yu stared down at the humming, pale green current, a reckless thought surfacing in his mind.

“Maybe… this really is the only way through,” he whispered. “I think I could try it.”

He felt very little pain anyway. Even if the solvent burned his flesh, his cells would rapidly regenerate. A barrier like this seemed tailor-made for a jellyfish mutant like him.

“Keep an eye on Mo An. I’m going to take off my clothes and—”

A strange scraping sound echoed from the safe room behind them.

Both boys spun around.

The egg, which had been resting securely on the center of the cot, had somehow rolled off onto the concrete floor.

Now, wobbling from side to side, it was steadily rolling straight toward the open doorway.

“Hee.”

Inside the shell, Mo An swung his tail back and forth with triumphant pride.

After an entire night of stubborn practice, he had finally figured out how to steer his own egg.

A Mermaid’s Guide to Survival in the Apocalypse