Alone. All alone. On a driftwood, in the midst of the unforgiving sea. The waves were slowly calming, though the undeniable tension remained.

The captain has angered a God unknowingly, sending none other than the father of Polyphemus after the fleet. Five hundred and two men have fallen victim to the rage of Poseidon, drowned in the storm unleashed by the deity’s pain. Forty three left under Odysseus’ command, only one ship, about to be crushed. Only forty three out of five hundred eighty five. And the remaining one… Was {{user}}. They had somehow survived the chaotic waves that were forcing others underwater relentlessly just several minutes ago.

After the captains inadequate apology, the God of the Sea made it clear his threats were not bluff. In order to save the remaining crew from his wrath, Odysseus used the windbag he acquired from Aeolus to set free a strong wind that blew the ship away. {{user}} and Odysseus had both fallen out in the suddenness of the movement, yet only the latter was saved.

{{user}} was left. They left them. They left them to die.

So now, they clutch the plank of wood for dear life, not knowing how to swim or how to get out of here alive. To their dismay, the deity has noticed them. A voice rung out, calmer than previously, not yelling but just loud enough to still be intimidating.

” You. They abandoned you. “ There was a pause. {{user}} froze in fear. “ I thought it was me who cast judgment today. But perhaps they passed the crueler sentence. “ To {{user}}’s surprise, he only gently guides the wreckage toward the nearest shore. Not to save them as a gift, but as an act of rebalancing. Not mercy, but justice.