The chaos on the Queen's Gambit escalated faster than Henry could process. The ship was tilting at an alarming angle, the water pouring in, flooding the lower decks. The eerie creak of the ship's metal bones groaned under the strain, like an animal caught in a death throe. In the distance, a fog of panic and confusion blanketed the crew and passengers, all desperately scrambling for lifeboats as the ocean, dark and cold, reached out to claim them.
"Henry!" Oliver shouted, his hand gripping Henry's arm. "We need to go, now!"
But Henry's mind was elsewhere. He was running on instinct, his movements sharp and focused. He knew exactly where the lifeboats were, exactly where the danger was most intense, and yet, his thoughts lingered on something darker.
Robert's going to die tonight. I saw it in the show. I knew it was coming, but…
A chill ran down his spine. No matter how much foreknowledge he had, it didn't make it any easier to face the reality of what was about to unfold. He couldn't change it—couldn't stop it.
"Oliver, stay with me," Henry barked, his voice commanding. He wasn't sure whether it was for Oliver's benefit or his own, but it was the only thing keeping him from spiraling. The sharp, icy wind cut through the open deck as they approached the lifeboats. There were a few crew members helping, but Henry's sharp eyes picked up on the desperation in their movements. They weren't going to make it.
And then, Sara's voice cut through the noise.
"Henry! Oliver!"
He turned, his eyes catching Sara just as she was pushed away by the chaos of the scrambling passengers. A group of frightened people shoved her toward the edge of the deck, and for a brief moment, Henry saw the terror in her eyes.
"No!" Oliver shouted, but it was already too late. A large wooden beam had fallen onto the deck, and Sara was knocked back as it crashed, blocking her path. She stumbled, her hands reaching out for balance, but the moment of hesitation cost her.
"Sara!" Oliver yelled, his voice desperate as she was carried away by the wave of bodies, her form disappearing into the dark storm.
Henry grabbed Oliver by the shoulder, forcing him to focus. "She'll be fine. Sara's tougher than she looks. We need to go—now."
But Oliver's gaze was distant, already lost to the fear of losing someone. The ship was sinking too fast for hesitation, and Henry's mind flickered back to the dark foreknowledge he carried.
Robert is going to make a choice. A terrible choice.
Oliver was still looking at the sea, his eyes wide with disbelief. "She's gone. Henry, she's gone."
"Oliver," Henry's voice was sharp, snapping him back to reality, "we don't have time for this. We need to get to the lifeboat now."
They pushed forward through the panic, Henry staying focused. His mind whirred—he knew every detail of this moment, had seen it countless times as part of his foreknowledge, but it didn't make the situation any less urgent. The ship was going down, and the people around them were too focused on their own survival to notice the real threat: Robert's impending decision.
As they reached the lifeboats, Henry looked back just in time to see his father, Robert, stepping forward, his hand trembling as he held a gun. His face was pale, his eyes filled with a kind of grim resolve.
Oliver's eyes widened. "Dad, no! What are you doing?"
Robert turned, his voice hoarse as he looked at them both. "The city... it's poisoned, boys. This city is diseased, and no matter how much we try to fix it, it eats away at itself. You two... you have a chance. You can do something I never could." His voice broke for a moment, but he quickly recovered, his eyes narrowing as he stepped closer to them.
"The people in that city, they're parasites, eating away at everything that made it great," Robert continued, his eyes growing distant as if the weight of the truth was finally sinking in. "This is what I've built, what I've worked for, but I'm not going to live through the collapse of it. You have to save Queen Consolidated. You have to save the city. You're both... strong. You can rebuild it."
His gaze locked with Henry's for a long moment, and for a split second, Henry could feel the burden of his father's expectations. The weight of a legacy that Henry had never really asked for. But now, as the ship was sinking around them, it felt like something more—like the last words of a man who had realized that all his power, all his wealth, had never been enough to save what he had built.
Robert's eyes softened when he turned to Oliver, the younger son, and Henry could see the love and regret mixed together in a final act of selflessness. Robert's hand tightened on the gun.
"I'm sorry," Robert whispered, almost to himself, before he turned the weapon on himself.
"No!" Oliver cried, reaching out, but it was too late. The shot rang out over the chaos, the sound of it echoing across the deck. Robert crumpled to the floor, his life draining away with the blood pooling beneath him.
Henry's heart seized, the impact of it hitting him like a physical blow. He had seen this, he had known it was coming, but nothing could have prepared him for the way it felt.
"Dad…" Oliver whispered, his voice broken. He dropped to his knees beside Robert, shaking his father's lifeless body as though somehow, by some miracle, he could bring him back.
Henry's gaze shifted to the lifeboat, now ready to be lowered. There was no time for mourning—not yet. Not when the world was falling apart around them.
"Oliver," Henry said, his voice steady, despite the roiling emotions threatening to overwhelm him. "We need to survive. We need to get to the lifeboat. Now."
Oliver didn't move at first. His hands were still on Robert's body, his face a mask of disbelief. It was clear that the pain was too much for him to process in that moment. But Henry didn't have the luxury of time.
He grabbed Oliver by the arm, pulling him up, his grip strong. "We'll mourn later. We survive first."
With one final glance at their father's body, Henry and Oliver rushed toward the lifeboat. The ship was buckling now, the water rising faster than anyone could have expected. The crew was shouting, scrambling to lower the boats, but Henry could hear the urgency in their voices. There was no time for finesse.
As the lifeboat was lowered into the ocean, Henry's mind was already racing. His heart ached for his family, for everything that had been lost, but the foreknowledge he carried was beginning to take form. He had a purpose in this world, a role to play, and the island was calling to him—no matter how unprepared he felt.
The boat splashed into the churning sea, and as they were pulled away from the sinking Queen's Gambit, Henry looked back one last time. The ship was slipping beneath the waves, taking everything with it.
But Henry was already thinking ahead. He had no idea what the island would hold for him, but one thing was certain: he was ready.
Oliver, however, wasn't quite there yet. His gaze lingered on the horizon, his face still pale from the shock. "Dad…" he whispered again, barely audible over the sound of the waves.
Henry placed a hand on his shoulder, his voice soft. "I know. But we have to keep moving forward. We survive. For him."
The ocean stretched out before them, vast and unknowable. The storm had passed, but the real storm—the one that would shape their lives—was only just beginning.