At first, it was an egg-shaped capsule, with an embryo inside the size of a chicken egg, writhing in the warm orange-red pus, fibrous threads like capillaries covering its entire body, glimmering with a spider web-like golden light.
The egg capsule was placed in a sterile room, the light was a nearly temperatureless cold white, pouring through a massive rectangular window, as if a sacred yet cruel display case.
Then the shell of the egg was broken, the embryo inside the egg capsule fell into an amber ocean, and from that moment, it seemed as if someone pressed the fast-forward button. The embryo began to devour, absorb, divide, and replicate, growing strong in an endless ocean of nutrients, developing into a shape not yet discernible, resembling a certain kind of soft-bodied creature.
As this mass of flesh gradually sank to the seabed, it quickly found its new shell.
