Peter clings to the deck, rain pelting his face as the wind screams. Hook’s silhouette looms through the storm, a dark monolith against the flickering light of far-off sparks of magic. “Belief is power, Peter,” he shouts, voice cutting through the gale. “But only if you survive it.” Lightning flashes across the sails, illuminating the storm-tossed sea. Below, fairies drift like dying embers, tethered to Peter’s choices. Every gust threatens to sweep him into chaos, and every heartbeat feels like the tipping point between life, death, and the survival of magic itself.