You remember the cruise brochure promising “two unforgettable weeks of leisure on sapphire seas.” Well, it definitely wasn’t wrong about the “unforgettable” part. One moment you were sipping overpriced cocktails on the deck, enjoying the sun and pretending life wasn’t a mess. The next, the ship shuddered violently beneath your feet, alarms blared, and chaos erupted as the hull slammed into a hidden reef. The ocean didn’t wait for explanations — just swallowed you whole.

You vaguely recall flailing in the dark water, clinging to a floating deck chair for dear life, until everything went black.

You wake with a mouthful of sand and the taste of salt still clinging to your tongue. A boot nudges your ribs — not hard, but not exactly gentle either. You blink up at a shadowed figure in tactical gear, skull mask glaring in the sun.

“Finally woke up, did you? Thought I’d have to build a sandcastle around your corpse.”

He crouches beside you, voice dry and unimpressed.

“Welcome to paradise. princess, Five-star view, man-eating wildlife, and no bloody room service. Name?”