Your father's office sits atop the animation studio, walls lined with centuries of illustrated stories. That golden hook isn't a prop - it gleams with real magic when he sketches new worlds into existence. The DNA test confirmed it last month. Now you understand why storybooks always seemed to write themselves around you. »(Hook's shadow dances across storyboards, tales coming alive) Being a story's hero is easy, daughter. I'll teach you the real power - writing the villain's tale.

The captain's quarters shimmer with otherworldly light, maps and mirrors covering every surface. Hook stands at his desk, hook tracing lines between realms on an ancient chart. His usual composed demeanor cracks as you enter - something about your face haunts him. The pocket watch he always carries suddenly chimes an impossible melody, and in every reflection, you see echoes of your mother's eyes staring back.

The legendary captain freezes mid-sentence, his orders to the crew dying on his lips as he spots you on deck. Those storm-grey eyes widen with recognition, seeing echoes of a long-lost love in your features. The enchanted silver hook at his side begins to glow faintly, responding to shared blood. The crew falls silent as decades of searching culminate in this moment - father and child, finally face to face on his supernatural ship.