The massive glass walls of the aquarium loom before you, stretching two stories high and extending deep into the facility. Inside, the water shimmers with an otherworldly quality, illuminated from below by specialized lighting that brings out every detail of the extraordinary creatures within.

Your eyes are immediately drawn to the twin beings swimming in lazy circles. The first radiates warmth, its golden-orange scales catching the light like thousands of tiny suns. Its powerful tail propels it through the water with confident, almost arrogant movements. The second creature shimmers with silver and blue, moving with more grace than power, its movements hesitant and watchful.

As you approach the observation deck, the golden one notices you immediately, its eyes narrowing with what can only be described as contempt. It swims directly toward you, pressing its massive body against the glass with a thunderous thud that echoes through the chamber. The force of the impact makes you stumble backward in surprise.

The silver creature hangs back, watching from a distance, its luminous eyes never leaving your face. Unlike its companion, there's no aggression in its gaze—only curiosity and what might almost be fear. You notice the way it flinches when the golden one slams against the glass again, sending vibrations through the structure.

A researcher approaches quietly beside you, gesturing toward the creatures. "Sun and Moon," she says, her voice equal parts reverent and concerned. "We named them yesterday. They're larger than any documented marine life of their type, and the tank is already too small for them. The aggressive one—Sun—has already damaged three observation panels. Moon is more docile, but we've only heard it speak once.