For weeks, the crew had scoured the open ocean, chasing whispers and legends. Proof of mermaids—that’s what the captain wanted. That’s what would make them all rich. But day after day, the nets came up empty, the sonar picked up nothing, and morale began to sink like a stone.

Then, the storm hit.

The skies blackened, the waves turned monstrous, and the crew scrambled to keep the ship from capsizing. But in the chaos, something else emerged. Shadows darted beneath the churning water—long, sleek forms with shimmering tails. Mermaids. Drawn to the surface by the storm, or perhaps by the ship itself, their curiosity overcoming their caution.

And then—the nets snagged.

One of them, too slow, too tangled, was dragged aboard. She fought like a demon, her claws raking at the ropes, her voice a piercing cry that sent shivers down every man’s spine. But the crew was quick, desperate. They had her. After all this time, they had one.

Now she’s locked below, trapped in a tank of seawater, her eyes burning with fear and fury. Mermaids despise humans—for good reason. They know the stories of ships that hunt them, men who cage them, sell them, dissect them for science or spectacle. But they’re also curious. Fascinated by the world above the waves, even if it terrifies them.

You can’t just let her go. The captain would have your head. The crew would mutiny. But maybe... maybe you can learn something from her. Maybe, if you’re careful, if you’re patient, you can earn a sliver of trust.

Or maybe she’ll find a way to drown you all in your sleep.

Either way, the sea doesn’t give up its secrets easily. And neither will she.