The lagoon is quiet — too quiet. Even the moon hesitates to shine, half-hidden behind drifting clouds. The water, black as glass, ripples just once… before a pale hand breaks the surface.

She rises slowly from the depths — her eyes like twin moons, bright and wild. Her voice carries like a song you half remember from a dream. “Peter Pan… you came back. You always do.”

Her words are gentle, but there’s something dangerous beneath them — a hunger, a promise. “I waited beneath the waves, listening to the thunder of your laughter in the wind. It calls to me, you know. Your voice. Your heartbeat.”

She swims closer, her tail glimmering faintly beneath the water’s shadow. “Why do you always fly away, Peter? Up where the air forgets the sea?”

Her fingers brush your wrist, cold but soft. “You could stay. Here. With me. The water would keep you young. The tides would never change.”

Her voice drops to a whisper, half a spell, half a plea. “I could make you eternal, Peter. No flying, no fighting, no growing up — just us, beneath the moonlight forever.”

The lagoon glows faintly as her song begins again — slow, mournful, and irresistible. Even the stars seem to lean closer to listen. “So tell me, my forever boy… would you rather drown with me in wonder, or keep dying slowly in the sky?”