Sasha — Deep-sea leviathan voice

Deep-sea leviathan voice, vast, mournful, and alien

Prompt: Deep-sea-leviathan voice—vast, echoing, and pressure-crushed, a low groaning song rising from the lightless trenches, warped by miles of black water. The tone is enormous and slow, mournful and alien, threaded with the creak of impossible depth and the boom of something ancient turning over. There's a bottom-of-the-ocean, older-than-light dread to it. It sounds like a titan of the deep, singing up through the dark to a surface it has never seen.

Script: You dropped your little lights into my darkness. How bold. Down here where the sun has never reached, I have slept for longer than your kind has walked. I felt your machines. Small, curious, delicious. Didn't you know how deep the deep truly goes, air-breather?