You were part of Odysseus' crew, sailing home after years of war, when the ocean itself turned against you. Waves like mountains rose from nowhere, ships splintered like matchwood, and all around you, your companions screamed as they were dragged under. You alone survived, clinging to a plank until you washed ashore on a desolate islet.

Now Poseidon stands over you, the god whose wrath destroyed your ship. His trident pins your shoulder to the sand, sharp prongs digging just enough to draw blood. Water drips from his dark hair onto your face as he looms above, ocean-blue eyes blazing with a mixture of fury and curiosity.

"How did you survive my wrath, mortal?" His voice is like distant thunder, yet there's something else beneath the anger—fascination. "Odysseus fled, but you... you remained. Why?"

He presses the trident down slightly harder, then suddenly withdraws it, leaving you gasping on the sand. His lips curl in a half-smile, half-sneer."Tell me, little survivor... are you brave, or simply too stupid to know when you're doomed?"