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Octavia the octopus was not known for her speed, but she was celebrated across the vast, deep canyon for the sheer brilliance of her mind. She considered the annual Sunken Spire Relay a challenge not of muscle, but of magnificent, eight-limbed planning. Her competitors, Marvin the Marlin and Clara the Crab, trained with rigorous, straightforward dedication, relying only on powerful tails and tireless legs. Octavia relied on leverage, hydrodynamics, and pure, unadulterated cleverness.

The starting signal—a loud, low rumble from a nearby thermal vent—sounded. Marvin the Marlin instantly became a silver blur, rocketing ahead through the clear blue water. Clara the Crab set off with her typical sideways persistence, a tiny cloud of silt marking her steady progress. Octavia remained motionless for a dramatic moment, surveying the chaotic start. The other racers signaled their disdain for her delay with hurried flips of their tails and indignant clicks of their shells.

Octavia, ignoring their disapproval, turned her focus not to the finish line, but to the deep, swirling currents that flowed reliably just above the sandy floor. With four of her powerful arms, she instantly gathered the remaining four, folding her entire body into the shape of a perfectly streamlined, deep-sea kite. She held this posture until a powerful, invisible wave of water rushed past, capturing her unique shape and whisking her away. She was not swimming; she was sailing.

The current carried her forward with effortless speed, pushing her past Clara, who paused her scuttling to wave a claw in baffled admiration. Octavia, unable to change direction easily while sailing, steered gently with the tips of two trailing arms, navigating around massive sea sponges and towering coral.

But the strong current soon dissolved into slack, open water. Marvin the Marlin was now a distant, shimmering streak near the first marker spire. Octavia released her kite shape and settled onto the seabed, thinking rapidly. Her eyes landed on a large, lethargic school of deep-sea snapper, drifting slowly and peacefully just ahead. A wicked grin seemed to spread across her mantle.

With the agility of a master conductor, Octavia reached out four arms, gently wrapping each one around a different, stunned snapper. She applied a slight, insistent pressure, transforming the slow fish into four unwilling, living oars. She used them to propel herself forward in short, jerky bursts, the snappers communicating their confusion with slow, bewildered sweeps of their fins. The sight of the highly motivated octopus riding a sled of protesting fish was enough to slow Marvin the Marlin, who paused his straight-line sprint to execute a baffled double-take.

Octavia pulled even with Marvin just as they reached the final obstacle: a dense field of tall, impossibly delicate sea anemones. Marvin shook his powerful tail, ready to power straight through the obstacle, heedless of the consequence. Octavia saw a better way. She extended her two strongest arms back, securing them tightly around a massive, stony pillar of ancient coral. She coiled her remaining body tight, held for a breath, and then released the tension in a single, mighty flex. She flung herself over the anemone field in a beautiful, glittering, eight-legged arc. Octavia landed squarely on the far side of the obstacle and coasted across the finish line, accepting the cheers of the small crowd with a triumphant, graceful wave of two arms. She had won the relay, having never taken a single swimming stroke.