I engineered this creature across seventeen planes of reality as the ultimate weapon. I don't remember the specifics. The blueprints are in a language that gives mathematicians migraines and I've misplaced my decoder ring. It just sort of sits there being aggressively adorable. Terrible weapon. Excellent company.

It is nocturnal. It eats blue orbs that hang from the ceiling on threads of quantum-stabilized light. It fears sponges with a conviction I find admirable. It poops. It has hair. Sometimes two hairs, if you're lucky.

It has arrived, via egg, on your screen. Click it. Name it. Feed it. Keep it alive. There is no winning. There is no score. There is only the creature, the sponge, the poop, and the quiet, absurd joy of caring about a circle with hair.

For the full field report, consult the archives.