THE RECKONING: THE WORLD'S WORST SCIENTIST.

Luther barely had a moment to process the AI's devastating words when the calm of the alien ocean was shattered.

The water around him churned violently, waves parting as something massive rose from the depths.

It was colossal, a creature straight out of a nightmare. Its nine enormous tentacles curled and lashed against the surface, each as thick as skyscrapers, sending shockwaves across the water.

Rows of jagged teeth, long and curved like elephant tusks, gleamed in the strange light of the twin suns.

Its eyes glowed crimson, locked onto the horizon as if nothing could stop it. Beside this behemoth, Luther was insignificant, a speck, a pea-sized mortal staring up at a god of destruction.

"Holy… no, no, no," he muttered, his throat tightening. His legs felt like jelly, but his survival instincts kicked in.

Without another thought, he turned his back on the monstrosity and crouched low, gripping the edge of the jagged metal scrap beneath him.

"Okay, okay, we can do this," he whispered, trying to shove the makeshift raft forward with his hands. "Just… move!"

The scrap bobbed slightly but refused to budge in the direction he wanted. "Oh, come on!" he growled, pushing harder.

The sharp edges bit into his palms, but he didn't care. He shoved again, ignoring the looming shadow behind him. "Nope, not looking back. I'm not a savior. Never was."

He barked a laugh, mostly at himself, though it sounded hollow.

His AI chimed in, its tone dripping with sarcastic disdain. "You got that right. You're more of a breaker than a savior."

"Oh, thanks, Peter. That's exactly what I needed right now," Luther snapped, the nickname slipping out without much thought.

Before Peter could respond, the monster unleashed another deafening roar. Its tentacles slammed into the ocean, sending massive waves surging forward.

Luther barely had time to grip his scrap of metal before the force sent it careening across the water.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" he yelled, gripping the edges tightly as the scrap turned into an impromptu surfboard. He swayed wildly, his legs nearly buckling as the waves propelled him forward.

"Peter!" Luther screamed, half in terror, half in exasperation. "This is not a freaking 2015 historical Iron Man movie! There's no way in hell I'm stopping that thing!"

Peter, as blunt as ever, replied with a scathing tone. "You're running from a mess you caused."

"It was a mistake, Peter!" Luther shot back, swerving to avoid a massive swell that nearly flipped him.

"Yeah, right. Defend yourself like you always do!"

Luther groaned as another wave loomed in front of him. "Oh, give me a break, Peter. I'm no superhero, okay? I'm a failure. Even in science!"

He bent his knees, bracing himself as the wave crashed over him, drenching him to the bone.

"Sure," Peter retorted. "Play the pity card, just like you always do when you feel like you don't deserve Amanda."

The mention of her name hit Luther like a punch to the chest. His grip faltered, and for a split second, he nearly lost his footing. "Don't go there, Peter," he said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, I'm going there," Peter snapped. "It's your fault. You put her in that state. You destroyed your universe, your timeline."

Luther's jaw tightened as guilt twisted in his gut. The waves continued to toss him like a ragdoll, and the monster inched closer to the distant city.

Its massive tentacles cast ominous shadows over the water, each movement sending tremors through the ocean.

"So what do I do now?" Luther shouted, frustration spilling over as he struggled to maintain his balance.

Peter's response was sharp and unforgiving. "Stop being a coward and fix your mistakes!"

Before Luther could retort, a monstrous wave rose behind him, crashing into his makeshift raft.

The impact sent him tumbling into the icy water. He spluttered, gasping for air as the salty liquid burned his lungs.

He fought against the current, dragging himself to the surface just in time to come face-to-face with the beast.

Its crimson eyes burned with rage, and its roar tore through the air, nearly bursting Luther's eardrums.

The sound was deafening, like metal grinding against metal, a horrific symphony of destruction.

Luther's breath hitched as the monster loomed over him, its tusk-like teeth glinting dangerously close.

For a brief moment, all he felt was fear. But then something shifted.

Taking a deep breath, he wiped the water from his face, squaring his shoulders.

His hands clenched into fists, glowing faintly with the same strange energy that had brought him here.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered, eyes narrowing as he prepared to do what he had spent his life avoiding: face his mistakes head-on.