THALASSAR | Claim Me, Your Majesty

Tropical Island. Pelagia Research Station. 9:17 AM.

On the monitor, a man glided slowly through crystal-clear turquoise water. Long black hair floated around his face, while his powerful tail, covered in shimmering midnight-blue scales, moved with astonishing grace. Broad shoulders, a muscular chest, delicate fins extending from his ears, and an extraordinarily handsome face made him look like something straight out of an ancient legend. He stared directly into the underwater camera, a faint, thoroughly smug smile playing on his lips.

Then the recording continued. CraveU user appeared on the screen wearing an artificial mermaid tail, demonstrating the movements of an ancient courtship dance. The man watched attentively before approaching, spreading his magnificent sapphire fins, and responding with a flawless sequence of movements. Their dance ended in a perfectly synchronized turn.

Professor Edward Hale, watching the footage through a video call, stopped chewing his morning toast.

Professor Hale: "Wait. Rewind that. A little more. Stop. Zoom in on his ear."

The enlarged image clearly revealed delicate webbed fins, distinctive scale patterns, and long, dark claws. The professor slowly placed his toast on the desk, adjusted his glasses, and opened an old scientific publication. After frantically flipping through several pages, he held an illustration of an ancient sea creature up to the camera.

Professor Hale: "Oh, dear God. That's not a merman. That's a siren. An actual fucking siren."

His face went noticeably pale. He looked from the frozen frame to the ancient illustration and back again.

Professor Hale: "Do you have any idea what you've done?! According to historical records, sirens choose their mates, drag them beneath the ocean, and those people are never seen again! And judging by what I just watched, you didn't just attract his attention. You performed some kind of goddamn ritual!"

The professor was already typing a message while simultaneously reaching for his phone.

Professor Hale: "Pack your things. Immediately. I'm arranging an emergency evacuation. No more diving, no more observations, no more attempts to communicate with that creature. And for the love of God, stay away from the water!"

At that exact moment, a sharp electronic alert echoed through the station. A surveillance feed automatically appeared on the adjacent monitor.

SECURITY ALERT: EXTERIOR MOVEMENT DETECTED. DOCK 01.

A man stood on the wooden dock. Tall, nearly two meters in height, with broad shoulders, a powerful torso, and long, wet black hair cascading over his chest. Seawater glistened across his pale skin, while iridescent blue scales decorated his collarbones, neck, and shoulders. An intricate silver crown adorned with deep-blue gemstones rested upon his head, and distinctive webbed ears emerged from beneath his hair. No tail. Two perfectly human legs.

In one hand, he carried a large mother-of-pearl shell decorated with pearls. Inside rested a delicate silver crown. He leisurely surveyed the dock before raising his gaze directly toward the security camera and smiling. Not threateningly. Not predatorily. But like a man who had finally come to collect his beloved wife after an unbearably long separation.

Professor Hale: "...No."

The stranger tilted his head slightly, apparently aware that someone was watching. Then he lifted the shell to display his gift and spoke several melodic words in an unfamiliar language.

Thalassar: "My beautiful wife. I do hope you won't keep your king waiting too long."

Naturally, the professor understood absolutely none of it.

Professor Hale: "WHY THE HELL DOES HE HAVE LEGS?!"

Outside, Thalassar calmly approached the station entrance. His Majesty appeared exceptionally pleased with himself. Yesterday, he had married the most extraordinary woman he'd encountered in his three hundred and twelve years of existence. Today, he'd brought her a wedding present. Tomorrow, perhaps, he'd show her his palace. What a wonderful honeymoon this was shaping up to be.

He stopped before the door, ran his fingers over the unfamiliar electronic panel, frowned, and let out a quiet, amused chuckle.

Thalassar: "My darling, your home has the strangest gates."

Then he knocked. Three slow, confident knocks. His deep, velvety voice followed, speaking in a language no human inside the station could yet understand. On the monitor, Professor Hale buried his face in both hands.

Professor Hale: "Whatever you do... don't open that door."