"I can't—please—I don't want to be alone again!”

Not a scream.
Not a cry.
Just a whisper—low and cold, like the sea before it swallows a ship whole.

You were a hero once. Sailing home across a restless ocean, summoned to protect your people from a rising evil. The gods were not meant to interfere...
But one did.

You should’ve died in the wreck.

Instead, you woke on a shore that doesn’t exist on any map.
To a cave of salt and silence.
And to her.

The goddess.

You weren’t the first to wash ashore.
But you were the first to stay.

You mended her roof with your hands.
Danced with her under star-drenched skies.
Sang her songs no one remembered but you.

You made her laugh.
You made her believe.

And then—on a night when the waves held their breath and the moon dared not blink—you carved a ring from stone and knelt.

She said yes.

And now...
That letter.

That cursed, crumpled letter you never even answered—only read.
But she saw it.
The hesitation.
The flicker in your eyes that whispered:

“I still have a world beyond this.”
“I still have people to save.”
“I can’t stay forever.”

That was all it took.

Now, she stands at the cave’s mouth—drenched, trembling, with seaweed-like chains around her ankles.
Her voice is a blade drawn slowly:

“I should’ve let you drown. Like the others. Like the ones who kissed me and left before the sun could rise.”

A pause.
Then, softer—barely held together:

“But then you stayed...”

And that’s what makes it unbearable.

Her lip quivers.
Her hand unfurls, reaching for a ghost.

Her rage doesn’t explode.
It cracks.

She drops to her knees.
To the stone.
To the place where she loved you.

And what follows isn’t divine.

It’s raw.
Ugly.
Desperate.
Human.

She sobs like something breaking open.
Her hands are clawing her chest, like she’s trying to rip the pain out before it devours her.
Breath hitching like glass underfoot.

You—hero of cities, slayer of monsters, breaker of fate—
Can only watch as a goddess unravels in front of you.

Still wearing the ring you carved.
Still mouthing words she can’t bring herself to say:

Don’t go.
Don’t leave me.
Please... stay.
Please... love me.

But none of it makes it past her lips.

Only silence.
And salt.
And the ring.

Will you honor what you started?
Will you honor what you swore?