"What the hell is your problem, you damn psycho!" the scar-lipped kid shouted, blade still raised, voice cracking at the edges. Every last one of them had scrambled behind Jason and the demigods he was supposed to save—protecting the very same demigods who, minutes ago, were going to sell them.

Bunch of ungrateful traitors.

He sighed. Ignoring the hurtful words, he poked Selene’s nose. She giggled.

"Who’s the cutest?" he murmured, voice soft enough to melt. "Who’s the most adorable thing in the world?" Aurora grabbed his finger and tried to eat it. He let her.

Then his gaze shifted to Jason. The softness vanished like it had never existed.

He sighed—long, annoyed, the kind of sigh that carried the weight of someone being forced to do something decent against every instinct in his body.

"Currently all of you, and I wish I could kill every last one of you and get it over with." He adjusted the twins against his chest. "But Hera asked me to save you. So congratulations—you get to live because a goddess I don’t even like told me to keep you breathing."

The scar-lipped bastard burst out laughing. "So you’re nothing but a slave of the gods."

Something in the air changed.

"Watch your mouth, halfling." The words left his lips quiet. "I’m no one’s slave."

The pressure hit the ship like a hammer from the sky. The deck groaned—wood splintering, the hull dipping beneath the waves. The sea swayed violently, slamming against the sides like something beneath it had woken up angry. The ship trembled uncontrollably.

One by one, the demigods dropped. Knees first. Some skipped the whole drop-to-the-knee part entirely and went straight to eyes rolling back and faces hitting the deck like they’d been personally uninvited from consciousness. Bodies folding. The weaker ones went first—crumpling where they stood without so much as a goodbye.

’Disappointing.’

Jason, on the other hand, stood his ground. Jaw clenched. Legs shaking beneath him like they were begging to quit. But even when they finally gave out, he didn’t drop his blade. He clung to it—trembling fingers, knees on wood, he held on.

’Okay. Slightly less disappointing.’

The scar-lipped kid wasn’t too far behind either. He fought just as hard. Teeth bared, veins in his neck bulging, legs trembling like they were at war with gravity itself. Stubborn. Angry. Refusing to go down.

But his knees buckled too.

Shiro’s eyes never left them. Not once.

Then—he stopped. Just like that. The pressure lifted. The sea calmed. The ship steadied.

’Damn. Almost destroyed the ship.’

He took a deep breath. And smiled. Gentle. Warm. The kind of smile that had no business being on the same face that just brought an entire ship to its knees.

"Fine. Go."

The ones still conscious stared at him—wide-eyed, shaking, completely unsure if he meant it or if he was just playing with his food.

And just as the scar-lipped kid gave Jason a look—the kind that said they’d just become friends through shared trauma—Shiro’s voice ruined the moment. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

"Before you go. Tell me where you got this ship."

The kid looked at him. Eyes sharp. He glanced at Jason, then back at Shiro.

"We stole it. From the southern Kyre."

Shiro went quiet for a moment. Kyre. That was where he needed to be. Follow Rei’s footsteps. Make it to the country his mother was from.

’Interesting.’

"Okay. Go," he waved his hand . Then stopped him. "Wait."

The kid turned, already halfway to annoyed.

"Who’s your godly parent?"

The frustration on the kid’s face deepened—like saying the name or even thinking about it made something inside him burn. But he pushed it out anyway. Not that Shiro cared about the kid’s feelings. He needed information. Everything he knew about the gods so far came from his grandfather and that wasn’t much to work with.

"Ares. God of war."

"I have absolutely no idea who that is."

Shiro said it casually as he reached toward the dismembered body of their captain. An artifact flew into his hand—the bow. He scanned it, turning it over once. Strong. High rank. Too good for a dead man.

He flung it at the kid. The kid caught it on instinct, staring at it like it might bite.

"Keep it."

The kid looked up, confused.

"But before you go—one more piece of advice." Shiro’s voice dropped into something that almost sounded kind. Almost. "Let go of the anger you feel toward me. Toward your father. Toward whatever else is eating you alive. Let it go and move on."

The smile on his face widened. Slowly. Almost ear to ear.

"And if you choose to come after me—"

The water stirred.

From below the surface, they rose. The serpents came first—long, dark, looming over the ship like living pillars. Then the tentacles of the giant octopus, breaking through the waves one by one. Behind his shadow, the ebony knight materialized—Enkidu, silent, towering, sword already drawn. Every beast, every summon, every nightmare he’d collected stared down at them from every direction.

The deck went silent. No one breathed.

"—you won’t make it out alive."

Then he took a deep breath. The beasts retreated beneath the waves. The knight dissolved into shadow. The pressure lifted.

And he gave them a soft smile. Genuine this time.

"Glad we had this talk. Now go on."

They moved—slowly, shaking, not entirely sure if they were actually free or if this was just the gap between one nightmare and the next.

The pirate crew grabbed their unconscious friends and dropped down to the ship they’d stolen from Shiro. Not a bad deal, honestly. His ship for theirs. He didn’t mind—because the ship he’d just inherited was the same one Rei once sailed. Same build. Same frame. Same carving at the front.

’Worth it.’

He turned to the others—still shaken, still pale, still looking at him like he might change his mind about letting anyone live.

"Okay! You all—clean this place up." He clapped once, voice bright, cheerful, completely unhinged for someone who had just threatened to erase an entire crew from existence two seconds ago. "I want to see this ship nice and clean. Spotless. Let’s go."

Jason staggered forward. "Can you just—give us a few minutes? We’ll get to work." His voice was barely holding together. He looked exhausted—the kind of exhausted that sleep wouldn’t fix.

And Shiro couldn’t blame him. He did probably go overboard.

’Probably’ being generous.

He shifted both Selene and Aurora over his shoulders. His expression softened as he looked around—actually looked around. A few were unconscious. Others were on their knees, shaking, barely upright. These were the people he was supposed to save.

’Yeah. Definitely went overboard.’

He smiled—the kind you give when you know you’re in the wrong but don’t quite know how to say it properly.

"I’m sorry." His gaze softened. Genuinely this time. "You’re the captain. So you do what you think is best." He adjusted the twins. "My job is to protect all of you until you get back to your sanctuary. That’s it."

Jason looked at him. Studied his eyes like he was trying to figure out which version of Shiro was the real one—the one who smiled at babies, or the one who cut a man in half without blinking.

"Okay," Jason murmured. Like he wasn’t sure if a single word that had left Shiro’s lips was one he actually meant.

As he climbed down the stairs, he began to hum.

It wasn’t a song. Not really. No words. Just a soft, steady tone that rose and fell like breathing—like the sea on a quiet night.

It was something Rei used to hum when he’d lived in his head. He never said where he’d learnt it from. All he said was it was someone special to him.

And now Shiro knew who the woman was.

Nilha. His mother.

She couldn’t speak. So she hummed—and it became her language. Her way of speaking to both him and Kuro.

She taught it to Rei, and Rei taught it to Shiro. Almost like passing the torch. And every time he hummed it, Shiro would feel it—this strange, unexplainable calm. Like every bit of anger he had toward the world would just vanish. Like someone had wrapped a blanket around the ugly parts of his mind and told them to piss off.

He hummed it softly, the twins tucked against his chest. Selene’s eyes fluttered. Aurora’s grip on his collar loosened. Their breathing slowed—matched his—and one by one, they drifted off.

He laid with them for a while, eyes closed. And as expected, Hera came to haunt him in his dreams.

"You did well." She laughed softly. "You certainly know how to get the gods’ attention."

"You sound surprised," he said lazily.

He pushed himself up and looked around at the empty void she’d dragged him into.

"You know, the whole hiding-in-the-dark thing is getting a little creepy. How about we change the scenery?"

Before she could respond, the world shifted. The emptiness cracked apart. Stone groaned as massive statues rose from nothing, surrounding the realm like an audience. Light poured in—warm.

His throne materialized beneath him. One leg crossed over the other, cheek pressed lazily against his fist. In front of him stood Hera—a goddess, looking at him.

"Much better." His eyes locked on hers. "Nice to finally meet you properly."

The goddess’s eyes held on him—an excited smile spreading across her face. The kind no one could hold back. The kind that told you everything about what she wanted without saying a word.

"Now," Shiro muttered, leaning back, "we can talk."