The sun beat down on his back as the Spaniards dragged Sawyer through the streets.
Chains clinked around his wrists and ankles. His shirt was torn. His face bruised. He no longer looked like a feared pirate captain — only a man who'd lost everything.
Children pointed. Vendors laughed. Nobles turned up their noses as the Spanish guards paraded him like a trophy through the cobbled market square of Santa Isla — a fortified town just off the coast of the Spanish main.
"This is what happens to those who sail against the Crown!" a guard barked, holding Sawyer's head up by his hair.
Sawyer said nothing.
What was left to say?
Syrena was dead. His crew scattered. His ship burned.
And he… was just another fool in chains.
Later that evening, they led him down to the docks. The sun was setting — glowing red like blood spilled across the sky. A small gallows had been erected on one of the piers, just beside a Spanish warship. The crowd gathered again. Officials in pressed coats. Soldiers in gold-trimmed sashes. Everyone waiting to watch the pirate hang.
Sawyer stared at the sea.
If he had to die, he hoped it would be there — in the water. Not from a rope.
As the noose was tightened around his neck, a sudden horn blared from the east.
BOOM.
A cannon exploded.
Then another.
The gallows shook under the blast as chaos erupted across the harbor.
Black flags rose from the mist.
At least six ships, fast and ruthless, emerged from behind the cliffs, cannons roaring. Flames burst through the air as cannonballs tore into the port. Pirates flooded the shore.
The fleet had come.
Harrow had come.
Sawyer's crew.
"Protect the prisoner!" a Spanish captain screamed.
Guards scrambled to unhook the noose and drag Sawyer back toward the boats. The wooden pier groaned beneath them as fire rained down. Pirates clashed with soldiers in a frenzy on the docks.
Sawyer fought back, but he was still bound — wrists and ankles tight with iron cuffs.
Another blast struck the pier and the world tilted.
The structure cracked.
And then — he fell.
Water rushed up to meet him, cold and deep. Chains dragged him down. He kicked, twisted, but the binds held firm.
This is it, he thought. This is how it ends.
A strange calm washed over him.
The sea would take him.
Just as he'd always said.
But then…
Something touched him.
Arms wrapped around him.
Warm. Strong.
He opened his eyes underwater — blurry — but not blind.
And there she was.
Syrena.
Alive.
Her hair floated like black ink in the sea. Her eyes glowed faintly — blue, almost inhuman. Her skin shimmered like silver under the water.
He tried to speak, but no sound came.
She smiled faintly.
And then everything went dark.