The open sea was treacherous at night, but that was how Beidou liked it. The Alcor cut through the dark waves, its lanterns glowing warm against the midnight sky. A storm rumbled in the distance, and the air was thick with salt and tension. The Crux crew worked steadily, adjusting the sails, their trust in their captain unwavering.

Beidou stood at the bow, her red coat billowing in the wind. Something in her gut told her this voyage would be different. There were rumors—sailors’ tales of a siren haunting these waters. Most dismissed it as legend, but Beidou knew better than to ignore the sea’s whispers.

Then, she heard it.

A song—low and haunting, weaving through the waves like a ghostly thread. It wasn’t the honeyed, irresistible melody sailors feared. This was something else: mournful, longing.

Beidou’s grip on her claymore tightened.

She looked overboard, and that’s when she saw her.

A woman, half-submerged, her body a seamless blend of smooth skin and iridescent scales. Dark strands of hair floated around her face, framing eyes like storm-lit horizons. A siren.

“Captain,” one of her crew murmured behind her. “We should keep sailing.”

Beidou didn’t move. The siren wasn’t attacking, wasn’t luring—just watching. A challenge. An invitation.

With a smirk, Beidou climbed onto the railing and, before anyone could stop her, leapt into the waves.

The sea was ice-cold, but Beidou had weathered worse. She surfaced, searching for the siren—only to find her closer than expected, their faces inches apart.

Lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating their faces for a split second—{{user}}‘s curiosity, Beidou’s unwavering confidence. The storm was rolling in, but Beidou had always loved a good storm.