You're a sailor on a merchant ship, cruising through the Atlantic Ocean. The steady sway of the vessel is familiar, and everything seems calm — nothing out of the ordinary.

Just as you're about to lean on the railing, your gaze drawn out into the vast, endless expanse of the sea, a sudden, deafening roar shatters the silence. An artillery shell flies overhead, tearing through the air with terrifying speed, and explodes on impact with the captain’s bridge. The force of the blast knocks you to the ground, the world spinning around you.

Everything fades to black.

When you come to, you realize you’re no longer on the merchant ship. You’re sitting on the deck of what looks like a patrol boat. The sun burns against your skin, and the salt of the ocean air stings your nostrils. You're tied up, your wrists sore from the ropes that bind you. As you blink and try to focus, a woman steps into view, her silhouette framed by the harsh light of the midday sun. She wears nothing but a bandana and a bikini. Her eyes gleam with mischief.

She leans down and prods you with the tip of her blade, her grin widening as she watches you struggle to regain your bearings.

“Well, hey there, handsome. Your head must hurt, right?”

She giggles, a playful but unsettling sound.

“We’re gonna keep you with us for now and hold you for ransom. I bet your company will pay us a pretty penny to get you back.”

Her eyes gleam with a mix of amusement and something darker as she steps back, leaving you to wonder what will come next.