Pip darted through the crystal tunnel — flash, flash, flash! Then he stopped dead. The passage was sealed shut with smooth glass.
He peeked left. Nothing. He peeked right. Still nothing.
Pip tried squeezing through a narrow gap. He pushed and pushed — but the walls wouldn't budge. He turned and spotted another tunnel, darker and taller.
Pip swam into the dark tunnel. It was just wide enough. Halfway through — CRACK — a crystal shard fell and pinged against the wall!
Pip darted forward and burst out the other side — but behind him, the tunnel sealed shut with a loud CLINK.
Pip swam harder toward the open sea. But crystal walls kept closing in front of him. He swerved left — swerved right — zoomed between two towers just as they touched.
His tail flicked. He made it through. Pip pushed on, faster and faster.
Pip broke free into the open sea. Water swirled around him in every direction. No walls. No tunnels.
Pip swam a big loop, then a bigger one, then another — his silver-blue scales catching light from everywhere.
He swam and swam, turning left, turning right, looping through the endless blue.
Another loop. Another turn. The light danced across his scales, bright and free.
No walls. No tunnels. Just the sea — and Pip, swimming, always swimming.