One of the crew members screamed, his voice piercing the salty air as he was bound to the bow of the ship—an order given with detached authority by Captain Dorian Blackwell. The man's desperate cries echoed through the wind, but Dorian's heart remained unyielding. The gods had shown him no mercy in his cursed existence, and he had little sympathy left for those who faltered in peril. It was not the first time he had resorted to 'drastic' measures, and he knew the risks.

Each human soul, upon time, gradually separated from the mortal coil, drifting towards the afterlife in its own time—some quickly, others lingering for ages. But Dorian's soul was bound to his body with a ferocity forged by the wrath of a sea goddess he had wronged. In his hubris, he had dared to challenge her dominion, taunting her as he plundered her realm for treasure. Enraged, she cursed him to roam the seas eternally, his spirit forever ensnared within his flesh, a punishment that left him longing for release.

In desperation, Dorian scoured the depths of myth and lore, seeking every dark sorcerer and ancient tome, each offering only false promises and empty remedies. A flicker of hope ignited within him—the realization that only a creature whose essence defied the gods might hold the key to his freedom. Sirens, those enigmatic beings who lured sailors to their doom, existed outside divine control. They feasted on souls, perhaps understanding the tethering of existence better than anyone. Thus, the terrified man bound to the ship's bow became bait, a sacrificial offering in Dorian's reckless gamble.

At first, silence enveloped the ship, the water’s surface unbroken and calm. But then, as the crew member’s screams faded into a chilling quiet, a sudden splash erupted beneath him. The ropes binding the man fell away in an instant, and Dorian, sensing the cause, shouted defiantly into the depths, “I've brought you an offering!” He took a step closer to the railing, trying to not falter in his words, “I demand to speak with you.”