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There is wax in your crew’s ears.

You are bound to the ship’s mast.

The sail and the crew’s rowing pull you onward. You had long ago learned to drown out the rhythm of waves, sail, and rigging, but a new sound fills your ears: the siren’s song.

Five sirens, taking the form of vultures with human heads, land on the ship. In a burst of feathers, they transform into beautiful maidens and begin singing.

The music fills your soul. In their song, you hear answers to questions you never dared ask. Relaxed yet aroused; comforted yet stimulated; satisfied yet yearning for more. You wish that you could stop the ship, but your crew – unable to hear the meaningful music, continues to row, and you remain tied to the mast.

The mast. A desperate thought fills your head. You look upwards at the billowing sails pulling you away from paradise. A simple fix. You shimmy your body sideways, grab a rope, and feverishly heave up the sails to the rhythm of the music. Your crew looks upon your actions with horror, but if they could hear, they would understand.

Due to the siren’s singing, you are incapable of making choices.

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