The darkness inside the barrel felt thicker than the night outside.
Every sound echoed—boots scraping against wood, rough laughter, the creaking of the ship's hull. My breath was shallow, controlled, my body pressed tightly against the curved wood as if I could merge with it and disappear.
Please… don't find me.
The pirates were thorough. Too thorough.
A blade stabbed into one barrel nearby, splintering it open. Someone cursed when they found nothing inside. My heart nearly leapt out of my chest.
Think, Damien. Think.
If I stayed here, it was only a matter of time.
So I made a decision.
A stupid one.
I waited until the footsteps faded slightly, then pushed the barrel forward. Slowly at first. Then faster. I tipped it on its side and climbed in fully, sealing the lid loosely from inside.
I'll roll out… into the sea.
It was reckless. Desperate. But it was better than kneeling and waiting to die.
I shoved with my legs.
The barrel rolled.
For a moment—just a moment—I felt hope.
Then it slammed into something hard.
"Oi! What the hell was that?"
The lid burst open.
Strong hands grabbed me by the collar and dragged me out like trash. I hit the deck hard, air knocked from my lungs. Pain exploded through my ribs.
"Well, well," a voice chuckled. "Found our rat."
They hauled me forward.
Captain Durent Zoulle stood before me, arms crossed, eyes sharp with interest rather than anger.
"This one's got guts," he said. "More than the rest of these worms."
The captured crew knelt behind me, horror painted on their faces. Some were crying. Some were shaking. None met my eyes.
Durent Zoulle crouched slightly, bringing himself closer to my level.
"You know," he continued casually, "I was thinking of killing them all anyway. But you?" He grinned. "You've got spirit."
He gestured to a pirate.
A cutlass was shoved into my hands.
Cold. Heavy.
"Kill them," Durent said. "Start with your captain. Do that, and I'll let you sail with us. A man like you doesn't deserve to die with cattle."
The crew erupted.
"Please!"
"Don't listen to him!"
"We can pay more—!"
Captain Quill sobbed openly.
My hands trembled.
Kill them… to live?
My chest felt tight. My thoughts spiraled.
If I refused, I'd die.
If I obeyed… I'd live.
But what kind of ending was that?
All my life, I'd been running. Escaping. Watching stories where others stood up and smiled heroically while I hid behind a screen.
And now—now I was inside one.
Was this really the only choice extras ever got?
I lifted the cutlass.
The pirates laughed, eager.
Durent nodded, satisfied.
Then—
I turned.
And swung.
Not at the crew.
At him.
Steel clashed.
The impact rattled my arms violently. The captain barely moved. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second—then hardened.
"So that's your choice," he said calmly.
His knee slammed into my stomach.
I flew backward, the cutlass spinning from my grip. Pain ripped through me. I crashed onto the deck, coughing blood.
Durent picked up the sword and shook his head.
"Disappointing," he muttered. "You had potential."
He raised his blade.
The world slowed.
I could hear my heartbeat.
Feel the wind brushing my skin.
Smell blood, salt, and smoke.
So this is it again…
Death.
Once more.
I felt strangely calm.
But then—
No.
No, damn it.
I already died once.
I saved someone and still got a bad ending.
I refuse.
I refuse to be a footnote.
I refuse to be destroyed by a story that never cared about me.
If this world wants destruction… then I'll give it destruction.
Something burned inside my chest.
My vision blurred.
Then—
My blue eyes began to glow.
Not light.
Pressure.
I felt it—an invisible connection spreading outward, like ripples forming on the surface of calm water. Space itself felt close. Tangible.
Energy gathered.
Not fire.
Not wind.
Force.
I clenched my fist.
And punched.
The world shattered.
A colossal shockwave exploded from my fist upon impact with Durent Zoulle. The deck disintegrated instantly. Wood cracked, shattered, and vaporized as if it were paper.
The ship screamed.
The sea erupted.
A circular wave spread outward for miles, towering walls of water spiraling away from the epicenter.
Pirates were thrown like dolls.
The ship split apart.
And then—
Nothing.
---
When consciousness returned, it was faint.
Cold water lapped against my skin.
I floated weakly on a broken wooden platform, body battered, bloodied, barely breathing.
Above me, the sky was endless.
And for the first time—
The story had changed.