The Epic of the Discarded Son-Chapter 52: Shrio’s Choice

He stood at the edge of the rail, eyes following the serpents gliding alongside them. Watching them cut through the water in smooth, hypnotic arcs like they were dancing with the hull.

Behind him, the deck had come alive with the quiet rhythm of recovery. Everyone moving. Everyone doing something. The ship breathing again after nearly breaking apart.

Luca had slipped back to his old self. That calm, cool, effortlessly charming version of him that made everything look like a performance—including near death experiences.

And Nora was smiling.

A small smile. Soft. The kind she only wore when she forgot someone was watching. The kind of smile Shiro wished he could freeze in place and keep forever.

He didn’t want anything to take that away from her again.

He stared at her longer than he meant to.

Until the door to the basement creaked open and Ana stepped out.

She was pale. Her face empty in a way he’d never seen before. The sharp edges of her usual expression were gone, replaced by something hollow. Broken. Like someone had scooped the life out of her and hadn’t bothered replacing it.

She walked straight to Darius’s bottle, poured herself a small drink, and made her way toward Shiro. Her shoulders were stiff. Her steps careful.

She stopped beside him. Leaned her back against the rail. Stared out at the opposite horizon from the one he was watching.

Neither of them spoke for a while.

The only sounds were the waves. The creak of the ship. The distant hum of the crew putting things back together behind them.

Then she broke the silence.

"You know," Ana said quietly, swirling her drink. She wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes were fixed on the horizon, somewhere past where the ocean met the sky. "She didn’t even think about it. Just jumped in."

He just listened.

"She was scared. We all were." Ana turned the cup in her hands. Not drinking. Just holding it like she needed something to do with her fingers. "But the moment that thing’s jaws closed around you and you went under—"

She stopped. Took a breath. Started again.

"She didn’t even hesitate. Didn’t look at us. Didn’t say a word. Just—gone. Over the railing and into the black like the ocean owed her something and she was there to collect."

A pause. Ana stared at the rim of her cup.

"And somehow—against every reasonable expectation of physics, luck, and the sheer size of that water—she found you. Unconscious. Sinking. And she caught you before the deep could finish what it started."

"Wrapped one arm around your chest. Locked you against her like she was telling the entire ocean—try me." Ana’s voice wavered for half a second before she steadied it. "Then she started kicking. Two bodies. Dead weight. Using every last scrap of wind magic she had just to move an inch."

Ana finally glanced at him. The usual dry amusement was gone, replaced by something softer. Tired. Guilty.

"She broke the surface with you. Took the first breath for both of you." Ana paused. "And that’s when they dove down. Every single one of them. Wings tucked. Coming straight for her while she was holding you with both arms and couldn’t fight back."

His jaw tightened.

Her gaze drifted toward the serpents gliding alongside the hull.

"That was when they came up. From the depths. Clamped down on each one and dragged them back under. The rest scattered. Gone."

Ana stared into her cup like the answer to something was at the bottom of it.

"We tried to get to you. Both of you." Her voice dropped to something barely above a whisper. "But we were too far."

She looked at him. And for the first time since he’d known her, Ana looked small.

"I’m sorry, Shiro."

He raised his hand, stopping her, and shook his head.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ "No. It would be easy to point fingers. But the only person who deserves the blame is the idiot who jumped into monster-infested water with two daggers and a death wish."

The deck went quiet.

Nobody answered. Not because they disagreed. Because they didn’t know how to.

Ana looked down at her empty cup. Turned it once in her hand, then let her gaze drift to the beasts gliding alongside the hull—watching them for a long moment before finally turning to him.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

"How do you do it, Shiro?" Ana asked, swirling the last of her drink before finishing it. "Aren’t you terrified you might actually die one of these times?"

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes found the horizon—the thin line where the ocean met the sky—and stayed there. Every time he’d almost died played behind his eyes like a highlight reel nobody asked for.

"Terrified?" A breath. "Every single time." He turned to her. "But fear isn’t the enemy. Fear means you know what you’re about to lose. And knowing what you’ll lose is what makes you fight harder to keep it."

He went quiet for a moment. Then something shifted behind his eyes—like a lock clicking into place.

"Someone told me once that everyone gets an ending. Some endings are pointless. Forgettable. But some—" He paused. "Some become legends. And even after they’re gone, their story keeps going. Passed down. Carried forward. Alive in ways the person never was."

He froze.

A memory surfaced. Sharp and sudden, like someone had pulled a curtain open inside his head.

Rei.

Years ago. Back when Shiro was small and the world was still a wound he didn’t know how to close. Back when all he could think about was revenge—who he’d hurt, how he’d hurt them, how sweet it would taste.

Rei had listened. Let him rage. Let him burn. And then, in that calm, tired, older-brother voice he always used when Shiro was spiraling, he’d said—

"Shiro, I get it. I do. You’re angry. You have every right to be. But revenge won’t fill that hole you feel inside. It’ll just make it bigger. Revenge fills you up with hate. It’s messy. Dirty. It rots you from the inside out."

"And honestly? Only sad, cliché main characters chase revenge. The edgy kind. The ones who think being broken makes them interesting."

"You know what’s cooler and edgier?"

"Being a hero. It removes all the sad and the tragedy."

"Not to mention, heroes get more girls too. Just saying."

He had laughed at him back then. Called it stupid. Called Rei stupid. He’d gone to bed on the cold floor, and that night he was still plotting in his head.

’I finally understand now, Rei.’

His gaze drifted to Ana. And for the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt no anger. No hate. Just a stillness that settled over him like the first breath after a storm.

He smiled. Not the cocky one. "Don’t worry. I’m done running."

A small pause. The ocean filled the silence.

"I’m going to kill my father."

Ana stared at him for a long moment. The tension in her shoulders loosened. Not all of it. But enough.

"And we’ll be right behind you." Her voice was quiet. Steady. "Every single one of us. Whatever it costs."

Just then, Richard climbed up from below.

Fully healed, but something was off.

Not physically. Something heavier. Quieter. The kind of weight a man carries when he knows exactly how badly he’s failed and can’t do anything about it. Someone had filled him in on everything—the beasts, the fight, Shiro diving alone, his daughter following him into the dark.

And Richard had slept through all of it.

The realization was eating him alive. He could see it sitting behind his eyes like a second wound.

He was angry. Not at Shiro.

At himself.

Technically, they were in the same boat. Literally and figuratively. Both of them carrying the weight of things they couldn’t change.

Ana’s gaze drifted toward Richard the moment he appeared. She was at his side before he could take a second step, steadying him like it was muscle memory.

He watched them. The way she reached for him. The way he leaned into her without thinking. Two people who could be happy—who deserved to be happy—if one man and his paranoia would just stop standing in the way.

’Yeah. No.’

He wasn’t going to let anyone else bleed for this. Not Ana. Not Richard. Especially not Nora. They’d already given more than anyone should have to. Lost more than anyone deserved to.

What kind of hero lets the people behind him fall?

A lousy one. And Rei didn’t raise a lousy one.

’You’ve carried this long enough. All of you. It’s my turn now.’

He climbed into his favorite nest. Knees tucked up. Staring at the horizon without really seeing it.

But underneath that stillness, something heavier pressed down on him—the image of Nora diving into black water after him, risking her life for him. That weight sat on his chest heavier than the deep sea.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

’She’s going to get herself killed because of me one day.’

"Hey."

He turned his head at the sound of her voice. And despite everything—despite the guilt, the exhaustion, the sore muscles screaming at him to lie down—he smiled.

"Hey," he said softly. And shifted to make room for her in the nest that was never meant for two.

She climbed in beside him, settled against his shoulder like it was hers by default, and slipped four shards and one artifact into his hand.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​