Port Royal Sirens

The sea is patient. Humans are not.

They capture her children. They bleed her people. They bottle her blood like wine. The Church calls it power. She calls it war.

La Zora rises. Claws, teeth, and scales slicing through docks, brothels, and priests alike. The streets of Port Royal will run red. Every soul that touched her blood will scream. Every survivor will pray they drown first.

This is vengeance. This is blood. This is the siren's war.