Photo Source: Unsplash It punched through the smooth thing around it with its front flipper. A grainy material flooded in on top of it. Sand. Up, up, up a voice inside it prompted. Keep going. It smashed through the remainder of the shell and tunnelled through the sand, propelling itself upward. As it climbed, something flashed arrow-like through its instinct-dominated consciousness. A vision of some sort. A picture of a woman walking down a crowded, rain-hammered street, a hard look on...