Andrew pulled the glass bottle from his pocket, placing it gently on the small wooden table. It looked alien in the simple room—a relic of storms and secrets amidst the domestic quiet.
"It's a map," Andrew said, his voice low. He quickly explained everything—the old man in the bar, the riddle of the Emerald Throat, and the promise of a place untouched by humanity. "He called it a journey that changes the destination. But he also said there is a 'gift' waiting inside. And if this place is as hidden as he claims... it could be full of things the world has forgotten. Rare resources. Ancient wrecks. Treasure."
He looked Bruce in the eye. "Enough to buy a hospital. Enough to save her."
Bruce stared at the bottle, the smoke from his extinguished cigar still hanging in the air. He didn't mock Andrew. He didn't laugh at the absurdity of a treasure hunt. Desperation had burned away his skepticism.
"A chance," Bruce murmured. "A slight hope against a zero percent certainty."
He stood up and walked to the window, watching Anna chase a bumblebee. His massive back blocked out the light.
"I'll do it," Bruce said, his voice firm. "I'll be your Shield. I'll take the hits, I'll carry the load, and I'll keep you alive long enough to find whatever is on that island."
Andrew let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Thank you, Bruce. With you, we actually have a shot."
"But," Bruce interrupted, turning around. His face was set in stone again. "There is a condition."
"Name it," Andrew said. "Double share? Triple?"
"She comes with us."
The silence that followed was absolute. Andrew blinked, certain he had misheard. "Anna? Bruce, are you insane? We're going to a desert island. A jungle that 'eats the lonely.' It's a death trap!"
"I know," Bruce said calmly.
"Then why would you bring her?" Andrew stood up, agitated. "She's a child! She needs a bed, safety, medicine!"
"She needs her father!" Bruce roared, the sudden volume making Andrew flinch.
Bruce took a step forward, his voice dropping to a fierce, trembling whisper. "Look around, boy. There is no one else. No grandmother. No aunt. If I leave her here with a neighbor or the state, and I die on that island... she dies alone. She dies wondering why her papa left her."
He jabbed a finger at his own chest. "If I go, she goes. If we make it, we make it together. If we die... then I die holding her hand, knowing I did everything I could."
Andrew stared at the big man. He saw the terror in Bruce's eyes—not of death, but of separation. He looked out the window at Anna, who had tripped and was laughing at her own clumsiness.
It was madness. It was irresponsible. It was dangerous.
But looking at the bond between the broken giant and the fragile girl, Andrew knew there was no other way. The Shield came as a set.
"Okay," Andrew whispered, the word heavy in his mouth. "Okay. She comes."
Bruce's shoulders sagged, the tension leaving his frame. He nodded once, a sharp, grateful gesture. He picked up the bottle, weighing it in his hand, then handed it back to Andrew.
"The Shield is secured," Bruce rumbled.
Andrew pocketed the map, a new weight settling in his stomach. The stakes had just skyrocketed. They weren't just fighting for adventure or money anymore. They were fighting for a life.
"We have the Shield," Andrew said, his mind already racing to the next step of the old man's riddle. "Now... we need a Sword and a Compass."