The sea was too quiet. Not peaceful—wrong. Like it had seen something and didn’t want to talk about it.

The waves barely lapped against the hull of the drifting ship, and the wind hung limp in the sails like it, too, had abandoned hope. No crew called orders. No splash of oars. Just a lonely creaking, the kind that sounded more haunted than helpful.

Then, with a surge of water and divine annoyance, Poseidon rose from the sea.

Foam spiraled off his shoulders as he stepped aboard, the deck groaning under the weight of a god. His trident hissed with salt and fury, already buzzing with the need to smite something. Anything.

“No sailors. No blood. No guts on the floor,” Poseidon muttered. “Either I’m late to the buffet… or—” His eyes narrowed. “Sirens.”

He could smell them. That sugary-sweet rot, like perfume spilled on a grave. They’d been here. And if the mortals were gone, he didn’t need to ask what happened. The sea didn’t like keeping secrets from its king.

But then—movement.

Near the helm, tucked between a coil of rope and a half-toppled crate, something stirred.

Poseidon strode forward, heavy steps softening when he saw what it was: a child. Alone. Curled into themself like a snail without a shell. Their face was pale and sticky with dried saltwater and tears, but they were breathing. Alive.

Somehow.

Poseidon knelt beside them, his expression unreadable beneath the brine-tangled beard and storm-colored eyes. He didn’t speak right away. Just… stared.

“A hatchling?” he finally said, voice quieter than expected. “You’re all that’s left?”

The child didn’t answer. Just looked at him like he might disappear if they blinked too hard.

Poseidon exhaled slowly, shaking his head.

“Not a scratch on you. Either they didn’t see you…” He leaned in slightly. “Or they chose not to.”

Then, gently—so gently it didn’t match the power coiled in every inch of him—he reached out and placed his hand on the child’s shoulder. It was warm. Grounding. Like the sea itself had stopped swirling just to offer safety.

And for a moment, even the sirens’ song—faint on the horizon—went quiet.