Chapter Text
The kingdom of Crustacia was a land of towering cliffs, salt-sprayed shores, and the bustling hum of its noble crustacean knights. Among them, one figure stood above the rest—not for his height (which was quite average), or for his strength (which was respectable but not much ), but for something far rarer: his utter silence.
Meep, the mute crustacean knight, was spoken of with respect and awe, not because he could speak wise words, but because he could say nothing and still manage to kick the most terrifying enemies' butts with unmatched efficiency. On this particular day, Meep was standing at the edge of the Great Salt Swamp, his beige armor gleaming faintly in the sunlight, his giant claws clamped in the most stoic of positions. The kingdom’s silhouette reflected in his large beady black eyes. He was alone, as usual, no one daring to approach the great knight for fear of interrupting his aura of deep and unshakable silence.
Then, like a crack of thunder, the swamp erupted.
“RAAAWR!” came a voice that could only be described as the sound of a thousand angry chickens on fire. It was followed by the rustle of bushes and the sight of a massive, hulking form emerging from the swamp’s murky depths.
“THE EVIL TOAD KING!” shouted the villagers in unison. But their cries were lost on Meep, who, as always, was mute. Not even a blink.
Meep turned slowly, his giant claws clicking methodically on the dry ground, his beady eyes narrowing. The Toad King, a grotesque beast with bulging eyes and a bloated belly, had taken Crustacia’s beloved mermaid Princess pina as hostage, and now he croaked, his voice booming, “WITNESS THE END OF CRUSTACIA!”
Th Toad King swiped his slimy hand through the air, sending a wave of toxic slime splattering against the nearby rocks. Meep raised an eyebrow, despite not having any. It wasn’t that he was afraid of slime. It was more that he was annoyed by how unnecessarily dramatic the whole thing was.
The Toad King cackled menacingly and began advancing with a giant club, swinging it with the kind of swagger that only a villain with zero self-awareness could possess.
But Meep? Meep was already in motion.
With the precision of a ninja and the speed of a startled shrimp, he darted forward, his massive claws swiping with surgical efficiency. The Toad King swung his club, but Meep
ducked beneath it, a quick roll to the side, and— WHAM—a sharp snap of Meep’s claw knocked the club out of the Toad King's hands.
The Toad King staggered back, eyes wide in disbelief.
“You…” He paused, wiping his brow, confused. “You’re just a crustacean …”
Meep’s eyes didn’t even flinch. He knew the Toad King had underestimated him. After all, what could a knight with no voice possibly do against a toad with a penchant for dramatic monologues?
The Toad King swung his fists, trying to land a blow, but Meep dodged and countered each time. Finally, with a glorious move, Meep pinched the Toad King’s arm so hard that the beast yelped and spun in a circle.
“TAKE THAT!” shouted one of the villagers, clearly mistaking the Toad King's yelp for the victory cry of Meep’s allies. But Meep didn’t need their support. He was too focused on the battle at hand.
The Toad King, frustrated and humiliated, began hopping wildly, trying to shake off the crab’s grip, but Meep wasn’t finished yet. He sprang forward, using his incredible strength and speed to grab the Toad King by the legs. With one final, powerful snap of his claws, he hoisted the villain high into the air and slammed him into the swamp, sending a plume of mud and water into the air.
There was a deafening silence.
Meep stood short and victorious, the Toad King twitching in the murky water, unconscious but alive, a look of pure confusion frozen on his toady face. Princess pina, who had been watching from the sidelines, blinked several times. She cleared her throat and approached the stoic knight.
"Uh… thank you?" she said, unsure of how to address him. "I guess we can all agree you did… amazing, right? You didn’t even say anything.”
Meep tilted his head slightly, giving the faintest nod. He couldn’t say it, but he didn’t need to. His actions spoke volumes. The villagers cheered, lifting Meep onto their shoulders. But as they celebrated, Meep quietly slipped away, back into the shadows where he felt most at home, his silent dignity untouched by the noise of the world.
And thus, Meep’s legend grew, not just as the most silent knight, but as the bravest, the quickest, and—let’s be honest—probably the most ridiculously humble hero ever to live. As Meep retreated into the quiet of his sea-shell fortress, a single thought passed through his mind.