The Clockwind Island raid had left a mark — both on the world and on the Compass Pirates.
News of the Iron Lord's fall traveled like a wildfire caught in the wind. Some called it rebellion. Others called it impossible.
But on the sea?
It was called a beginning.
---
Drifting Forward
The Moment sailed quietly under a silver dawn, the sky calm, but the ship restless.
Kairos stood at the bow, cloak fluttering. His hand still tingled from the final blow he'd dealt to Kurogane.
Behind him, a new presence trained alone on the main deck — silent but sharp.
Zoroko.
A woman of few words. Fewer smiles. But every move she made was practiced precision, a rhythm all her own.
She didn't speak much.
But every night since joining, she sharpened her blades on deck — and Kairos knew that was her way of saying, I'm here.
---
Awkward Introductions
The rest of the crew wasn't used to a quiet storm like her.
Jinx tried.
"So, Zoroko, do your swords have names or is that too cliché for you?"
Zoroko barely glanced at her. "They do."
"…You gonna tell us what they are?"
"No."
Toma snorted from the rigging. "She fits right in."
Lokk, ever the loudest, slapped Zoroko on the back (which she immediately blocked with her scabbard).
"Nice reflexes! You ever cut a sea king in half?"
"No," she replied, deadpan. "Only men who touch me."
He paled. "Ah. Right. Noted."
Even Kairos chuckled.
They were learning. Slowly.
---
Compass Points
Kairos sat with Jinx later that night in the navigation room. They spread the stolen map once again, its ink shimmering faintly in the lantern light.
Five islands. Five "points" on the compass. Zoroko had been the North Blade.
Now, they looked to the next — the East Flame.
A black-market harbor called Searidge, ruled by bounty brokers and underground traders.
"Word is there's a girl there," Jinx said. "Escaped from the World Government's labs. Pink hair. Stomach that eats like ten men."
Kairos tilted his head. "A glutton?"
"A survivor," Jinx corrected. "They call her... Bonney the Glutton."
---
Small Storms, Big Dreams
Later that night, the crew gathered around a small fire in the ship's galley. The mood was lighter now.
Kairos told a story about a swap gone wrong — where he'd accidentally traded his voice with a goat's bleat during a scuffle in Aruma. Everyone laughed.
Even Zoroko smirked. (Maybe.)
But as the laughter faded, a strange stillness settled over them.
They were pirates now. Named ones. Not quite wanted, but definitely watched.
Toma leaned back. "So what are we really doing out here, Kairos? What's the endgame?"
Kairos stared into the fire.
"I want to build something real. Not just power. A place. A home."
Jinx raised a brow. "For who?"
Kairos smiled.
"For people like us. Strangers, misfits, monsters. The kind who don't belong anywhere else."
Zoroko finally spoke, voice quiet but steady.
"You don't build something like that with ideals alone."
"I know," Kairos said. "That's why I have you all."
---
New Name, New Bonds
They practiced together the next morning — sword drills, tactical sparring, and swap combos. Kairos experimented by trading stamina between teammates, letting Zoroko move like lightning while Lokk absorbed punishment.
They weren't just learning to fight.
They were learning to trust.
By midday, the crew stood at the rail, watching clouds swirl to the east. A storm brewed far off — not weather, but something else. A feeling.
Searidge.
The next stop.
The next test.
And maybe the next bond.