S3EP4: Ruthlessness

"NOOOOOOOOOOO—" "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer... never really know who you can trust..." — the minions' voices, soft and laughing, curling through the air like smoke. The storm was already tearing the ships apart. I scrambled to my feet. The bag — where was the bag — There. In Eurylochus's hands. Half open. Wind screaming out of it like a wound. "Help me close it!" I shouted. "But sir — it's too late —" "We can save whatever is left!" I grabbed the fabric, pulled it tight. "To use another day!" Around us, the crew was yelling: "Storm — STORM —" Eurylochus looked at me. Then at the bag. Then he grabbed the other side. Together — in the chaos, in the wind, in the terror — we pulled it shut. Not empty. But not full either. Enough. "Captain —" someone screamed. Not at the bag. Behind me. I turned. And the sea parted. And then — her. Aeolus floated above the chaos, calm as still water, watching. I looked up, desperate. "Where is the storm taking us?!" She laughed. "Ha! I told you to keep the bag closed. But you weren't compliant." She tilted her head, almost pitying. Almost. "If I had to guess? You're heading to the land of the Giant." The storm raged. Ships splintered. Men fell. And then I heard it. Not the wind. Not the waves. Them. "Poseidon..." One voice. Trembling. "Poseidon..." More joined. A chant building behind me. Not a prayer. A warning. I turned. And then I understood why they were afraid. Poseidon. Looming above us all. The sea itself bending to his will. Waves rising like walls. His trident gleaming — not with light, but with the promise of death. "...Poseidon," I whispered. Not a scream. Not a prayer. A name. And he was looking right at me. --- Poseidon's voice didn't just cut through the storm. It became the storm. "In all my years of living... it isn't very often that I get pissed off." The waves rose higher. "I try to chill with the waves. But damn, you crossed the line." His trident moved — just slightly — and the sea screamed with him. "I've been so gracious.""And yet — you hurt this son of mine." My blood went cold. Son? "That's right." Poseidon leaned closer. The sky darkened. The air turned to salt and terror. "The cyclops you made blind..." His eyes met mine. "...is mine." The words didn't make sense at first. Then they did. ...No. "I'm left without a choice and without a doubt Guess the pack of wolves is swimming with the sharks now. I gotta make you bleed. I need to see you drown. And now it's time to say goodbye, today's the day you dieUnless of course you apologize for my son's pain and all his cries" A realization. I killed his son...No The blood drained from my face. " Poseidon, we meant no harm — we only hurt him to disarm him. We took no pleasure in his pain. We only wanted to esca—" Poseidon's eyes went cold. "I didn't ask for your reasons." His voice was quiet. That made it worse. "I asked for your apology." I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. I couldn't say it. Not for this. Not for trying to get my men home. Poseidon watched me struggle. Watched me fail. And something in his face changed. Not pity. Disgust. "You are the worst kind of good," he said slowly. "Because you're not even great." The waves began to rise again. "A Greek who reeks of false righteousness — that's what I hate." "You fight to save lives. But you won't kill and get the job done." His trident lifted. "You could have avoided all of this... had you just killed my son." "But no." "You are far too nice. Mercy has a price." "It's the final crack — we're bound to break the ice now." "You reveal your name. Then you let him live." "Unlike you — I've got no mercy left to give. Because —" The sea screamed. "RUTHLESSNESS IS MERCY UPON OURSELVES —" He screamed it to the sky: "OURSELVESSSSSS—" Then — nothing. The storm stopped. The waves froze. The world held its breath. Poseidon turned calm. Too calm. He looked me dead in the eyes. And said: "Die." The sea obeyed. Waves like mountains. Water like iron. Ships splintered like twigs. "Captain —!" Perimedes. Reaching for me. Gone. "ODYSSEUS —" I saw Eurylochus cling to wreckage. Swept under. Then — he surfaced. Gasping. Alive. "Help us — please — Captain —" Voices I knew. Faces I loved. Pulled into the dark. One by one. By one. I reached for them. My hands found nothing but salt water. "I'm sorry — I'm sorry — I can't —" But the waves didn't care. And Poseidon just watched. When it was over — when the sea went still and the screaming stopped — I was on my knees. On a piece of wood that used to be my ship. Surrounded by nothing. I looked up at the god who had done this. Not with rage. With something worse. "What... have you... done?" My voice cracked. Poseidon didn't answer. He didn't have to. Behind me, a voice. Hoarse. Human. "Forty-three." I turned. Eurylochus. Kneeling on wreckage. Clinging to a rope. Alive. His eyes met mine. "Forty-three left under your command." The words weren't angry. They were just... true. I closed my eyes. And I asked myself the question I would never stop asking: When does a man become a monster? Poseidon's voice cut through the silence. "I am your darkest moment." I looked up. "The monster that always draws near." He raised his trident. "Any last words?" My hand found the bag. Still sealed. Still holding something back. "All I gotta do..." I whispered, "...is open this bag." Poseidon's eyes widened. "What?!" I didn't answer. I opened it. The wind exploded — not the gentle wind of Aeolus, but the stolen storm, the captured hurricane, aimed not at my fleet but at the god himself. Poseidon stumbled. The sea turned against him. For one moment — one impossible moment — the god of the waves was thrown back by his own element. And as the storm swallowed him, he screamed: "REMEMBER ME." I pulled the bag shut. The sea went still. Poseidon was gone. The crew — the survivors — stared at me. I looked at the bag in my hands. Then at the bodies in the water. Then at Eurylochus. Then at the horizon. "...Remember you," I said quietly. To myself. To the dead. To the god who would come back.

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