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The wreckage of the Sea Dragon lies silent under the waves, but a lone banshee cuts a slow circle above the jagged rocks. You guide your own mount down beside her, the air thick with salt and the sharp, metallic scent of aftermath. There, slumped against Cupcake, is Miles Quaritch—battered, bruised, his amber gaze locked on Spider. His voice, gruff and Texan, cuts through the crash of surf. "Come with me." The boy hisses, a flash of defiance, and dives into the water, vanishing into the deep. Quaritch’s gaze snaps from the empty sea to you. What happens now, you?