"Damn, old man. You recovered fast." It physically hurt to say that. Like his mouth was allergic to being nice to this man.

His grandfather’s frame had shrunk, but he was standing. Breathing. Alive. Which, given what Shiro had just put him through, was either impressive or annoying. He hadn’t decided yet. He just didn’t expect him to get better this quick, even though he did willingly pull the venom out of his body.

He turned toward the mountain. The beast’s screams echoed down from the peak, shaking the air.

"I never actually saw the beast in person," his grandfather said quietly, staring up at it.

"Yeah, it’s horrible. Highly do not recommend." Shiro said softly. "Zero stars. Would not visit again."

"It sounds mad," his grandfather said, still staring at the mountain.

"Yeah, it’s super mad because I cut its head off basically for honor, and now it’s upset about it." He took a breath. "Like, dude. It’s been centuries. Just move on."

His grandfather laughed softly. Which was something Shiro had never heard from him. Not the proud laugh. Not the broken one. Not the threatening rumble. An actual, genuine, quiet laugh.

And somehow, that was the strangest thing that had happened all night. Which was saying a lot, considering the night he’d had.

"You are just like Rei." A small pause. The kind that carried more weight than it had any right to. "Maybe that’s why I went so hard on you. Because you reminded me of him."

Shiro looked at the man with confusion.

’Are we really having a bonding moment right now? Am I dead? I have to be dead. This isn’t real. There’s no way the guy who punched a hole through my stomach not too long ago is standing here being sentimental. The universe doesn’t work like that. Someone check my pulse.’

"I mean, I am his son after all," Shiro said carefully, like he was testing whether the moment would shatter if he spoke too loud.

"My father. My brother. And Rei my son." His grandfather’s voice dropped. Heavier now. "They all once begged me to stop feeding that thing. But I didn’t listen." A pause. Longer. "And in exchange, I—"

He couldn’t finish it.

He exhaled.

"Yeah, I’m done with this entire revenge trope. It’s overdone." He stared up at the mountain. "Plus, it’s just too painful. I think I’m going to move on to a revenge-free, peaceful hunting life. Less drama. Less existential crisis. Less getting my organs rearranged." He paused. "That is, if I live through this."

Another pause. Longer.

"Which I doubt."

His grandfather turned to him. And gave him a warm smile. The kind Shiro didn’t know the old man’s face was even capable of making.

"You will."

He had to blink a few times before checking if this was real. His body hurt, so it had to be. Unless it wasn’t, and the universe was just messing with him again. Which, honestly, wouldn’t even crack the top ten weirdest things that had happened to him so far.

Then his grandfather crushed a gold shard between his palms.

From it rose a massive lion. Its fur glowed like the sun, golden and blinding, radiating warmth that had no business existing on a night this cold. It stood taller than Shiro, broader than Enkidu, and moved with the lazy confidence of something that knew it was the most dangerous thing in any room it walked into.

The beast’s eyes locked onto Shiro. Sniffed him once. Twice. Then licked him.

’Oh, come on.’

Ari hissed from his shoulder, puffing up with all the fury her tiny body could muster. But the lion wasn’t exactly bothered by a snake that was roughly the same size as one of its teeth.

"DAMN YOU, GILGAMESH!" The sound echoed from the mountain, shaking the air, rattling the rocks. Humbaba’s rage bleeding through the stone like the mountain itself was screaming.

His grandfather’s eyes shifted to Shiro. "Gilgamesh," he muttered, staring at him like he was seeing him for the first time. "That’s your past name?"

Shiro pushed the lion’s licking tongue away from his face. "Yeah," he laughed.

"I will remember that."

Knowing one’s name was something that needed to be earned. Not just to have one, but to know someone else’s. Telling one’s name meant you were being acknowledged. And one thing Shiro had noticed—no one truly knew what his grandfather’s name was.

"You can call me Alcides." A short pause. Then, quieter—"Heracles. The name that shackled me to the gods. The one I picked to please Hera."

"Call me whatever you want. A name given to me by my mother, or a name that slaved me to the gods. Call me whichever you think represents me."

"Sorry, old man." Shiro wiped lion drool off his cheek. "I couldn’t care less about your name."

His grandfather laughed. Then, before Shiro could react, the old man picked him up and gave him one more soft smile before doing something Shiro never expected.

A hug.

It caught him completely off guard. His arms stayed limp at his sides, brain short-circuiting, trying to process the fact that the man who had tried to kill him multiple times was now hugging him.

’What is happening. What is happening. What is—’

Before he could finish processing, his grandfather placed him on top of the lion’s back. He sat there. Frozen. Eyes wide.

His grandfather materialized his club.

From above, the pissed-off guardian’s countless eyes locked onto Shiro. Its wings spread. Its body coiled, ready to launch itself down the mountain straight at him.

But the lion was already moving.

Before Humbaba could shoot toward him from above, his grandfather leaped. One massive jump that covered the distance in a heartbeat, club raised high, swinging with everything he had.

The impact sent the beast flying, crashing into the mountainside hard enough to crack it open. Humbaba launched itself back up, furious, screaming, wings beating the air into submission.

His grandfather met it head on.

Their arms locked against each other, muscle against scale, god-killer against god-eater. The mountain trembled beneath them. His grandfather slammed the beast down. Once. Twice. Three times. Each impact shaking the island like a drumbeat counting down to something terrible.

Then he grabbed one of its wings and ripped it off.

The sound was wet. Brutal.

But the beast wasn’t done. Its second head, the one hanging beneath its jaw, lunged forward and bit down on his grandfather’s arm. Teeth sinking deep. Blood spraying.

And neither of them let go.

He turned away. "This doesn’t prove anything, old man," he said softly. Then, quieter, almost to himself—"And I will never forgive you."

As the lion carried him faster down the mountain, the clashing between gods intensified above. The sound of it wasn’t a fight anymore. It was a catastrophe. Two forces that should never have existed in the same world tearing each other apart.

And then came a roar so loud it stopped being sound and became something physical.

Cracks splintered through the ground beneath him, pulling the earth apart like the island was trying to rip itself in half.

The wind turned violent, shoving against them, fighting them, like the air itself had picked a side and it wasn’t his. The entire island was fighting them. Every root. Every stone. Every grain of dirt that had ever belonged to Humbaba’s island was trying to keep him here.

The ground exploded underneath them.

Shiro and the lion were sent flying. Roots shot out of the earth, whipping toward him, trying to wrap around his arms, his legs, his throat—anything they could reach.

Then shadows climbed over the vines. Dark. Fast. Familiar. They wrapped around his feet and pulled him down, hard, ripping him free from the roots and dragging him toward the shore.

Shiro reached for the panicking lion, who was trying to swim through the air, massive paws paddling at nothing like a very large, very golden, very confused cat.

’Come on, buddy—’

The moment his fingers touched its paw, the lion shattered. Like glass. Like a shard breaking apart into a thousand golden fragments that sank into his body, warm and bright, dissolving into his skin before he could even process what had just happened.

Then he was pulled through the shadow.

His back slammed against a wooden floor. The ceiling above him rocked gently. The smell of salt and sea hit his nose.

A ship.

He pushed himself up, vision swimming, and looked back.

The island was sinking.

Slowly at first. Then faster. The mountain crumbling inward, the trees folding, the cliffs breaking apart and sliding into the water like a giant hand was pressing the whole thing down into the ocean.

And around it, the sky itself began to crack. Long, jagged lines splitting across the horizon. Behind the cracks, a clear sky. Blue. Clean. Almost peaceful. Like someone had poured fresh paint over an old, ruined canvas.

He could hear one last roar. Distant. Furious. Defiant.

Then the island sank.

And there was nothing left but the sea.

Following the ship, countless beasts trailed behind them through the dark water. He released the two serpentine.

In no time, the familiar chime rang.

[You have acquired 1 soul fragment.]

[You have acquired 1 soul fragment.]

[You have acquired 1 soul fragment.]

[You have acquired 1 soul fragment.]

[You have acquired 1 soul fragment.]

[You have acquired 1 soul fragment.]

[Current soul fragments: 8/100] 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

’Eight out of a hundred. Cool. Only ninety-two more to go. At this rate I’ll be done by the time I’m dead. Again.’

His eyes drifted toward the sky, and a different breed of creature appeared. Their wingspan was wider, almost bird-like, feathers layered thick and sharp. Long beaks. Bodies that were closer to lizard than bird, like someone had smashed a reptile and an eagle together and hoped for the best. As if they’d crawled straight out of the beast in the mountain and made to take the sky.

Shiro pushed himself to his feet. Every joint in his body filed a complaint. He ignored them all.

He turned to the ebony knight. "Okay. Do it."

Enkidu grabbed him and flung him skyward like a javelin with attitude problems.

The beasts came down to meet him halfway, diving with beaks open and talons spread wide. He twisted his body mid-air, dodging the bite by inches, landed on top of one, and drove his dagger into its back before it could figure out what had just happened.

As it fell, he pulled five fragments to his fingertips and pressed them into the creature’s spine. But only two sank in.

[Current soul fragments: 6/100]

As the beast fell, its form began to change. Its wings extended, glowing with purple energy that pulsed like a heartbeat. Its feathers hardened, turning armor-like, layering over each other like scales made of steel. Its eyes shifted to ruby red. Its talons grew darker, sharper, closer to the ebony knight’s blade—pitch black and mean enough to cut through anything.

And before it hit the water, it shifted and shot back up into the sky. Reborn.

’It worked.’

Shiro jumped off its back onto the next beast, cutting its head clean off in one swing. His newly acquired creature dove after him, claws ripping into one of the remaining beasts before catching him mid-fall.

Its widened beak snapped left and right, biting off wings and heads like it was trying to impress Shiro.

Which, for the record, it absolutely did.

’Okay. I like this one. A lot.’

[You have acquired 1 soul fragment.]

[You have acquired 1 soul fragment.]

[You have acquired 1 soul fragment.]

[You have acquired 1 soul fragment.]

[Current soul fragments: 10/100]

The rest managed to flee, scattering across the sky. Before dropping back down, the flying beast shrank beneath him, turning into a shard that sank into his body.

He was exhausted. He could barely keep his eyes open. Every blink lasted a little longer than the last, like his eyelids were negotiating a permanent closure.

Lying behind him on the deck were the two children. He looked at the knight. "You couldn’t find any of the captains?"

Its metal head shook.

Shiro sighed. He’d sent the knight away thinking he could hand them the kids, but that didn’t go as planned. Nothing tonight had gone as planned. He was starting to think planning was just something people did to feel better before everything went wrong anyway.

He picked up their sleeping bodies, one in each arm, carried them downstairs, and placed them gently in one of the rooms. He stood there for a moment. Watching their tiny chests rise and fall. Watching the way their little fists curled around nothing, holding on to dreams that hopefully had nothing to do with monsters and mountains and blood.

Then he came back upstairs.

He climbed to the top of the sail and sat down on the nest. The once small, cramped lookout point suddenly felt huge. He looked down at the deck below, and the ship felt empty. Only their shadows remained. Nora. Luca. Darius. And even Richard.

He put his head down. Loneliness wrapping around him, creeping in from every direction, filling up the silence like water rising in a room with no doors.

But he snapped his head back up before it could consume him.

"Please be okay, Nora!" He shouted it with everything his lungs had left, voice tearing across the open sea. "I’m going to find you! I promise!"

The wind carried his words away. The ocean swallowed them whole. And nobody answered.

But he meant every syllable.

Then he climbed down and headed to the control room. He knew where he needed to be. And he knew Nora would be waiting for him there.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​