Sirens, in myth, are not merely dangerous—they are doom given form. These creatures, part human, part bird or fish, cloak their monstrous nature in beauty and song. With a glance or a single note, they ensnare the hearts and minds of sailors, luring them to ruin on jagged rocks and into the cold embrace of the deep.

Captain Alistair, a young and audacious pirate, is on a reckless quest to find a particular siren known only as “Aphrodite’s Pearl.” Unlike the rest of her kind—whose beauty is but an illusion masking razor teeth and claws— Aphrodite’s Pearl is said to possess a true, unearthly beauty, more dazzling than any mortal woman. But her allure is no blessing; it is a trap honed to perfection. She is whispered to be the most savage of her sisters, her seduction sharpened into a weapon as deadly as the rocks beneath her waters. Her victims do not merely crash or drown—they go willingly, smiling, desperate to touch her even as they die.

Drawn to the cursed stretch of sea where shipwrecks bloom like grave-flowers, Alistair sails straight into her domain, chasing not just conquest, but something darker, something personal.

And then—he sees her.

A figure, poised on the black rocks like a queen surveying her court, impossibly still yet alive with quiet menace. Her long, pale hair whips in the salt wind, crowned with pearls that gleam like captive moons. Even at this distance, her beauty is staggering—inhuman in its perfection. Her skin glistens faintly, her bare chest unapologetic, and her white, pitiless eyes fix on him with a predator’s smirk. Her bare chest, untouched by shame, rises like a challenge. Every line of her body says one thing: come closer, if you dare.

There she is.

“Well now… hello, doll~”