Story Quote: "The Grand Line shows no mercy, yet it always rewards those who still dare to wonder."
Morning mist clung to the forest canopy as the Fumigator's crew hiked inland, guided by the faint humming of the island's "echo winds."The sound grew deeper with each step, reverberating like the breath of a slumbering giant.
Kairo led the group, his eyes scanning the uneven terrain.
Soon, they came across a large oasis, and in the center there seemed to be a small island. The shoreline was white — not sand, but a smooth, shining substance that gleamed faintly even without sunlight.Above it rose ruins unlike anything they had ever seen: spires of ivory-colored material that curved like melted glass, half buried in greenery. Kairo used his Devil Fruit to wrap everyone in a cloud of fog before carrying them across the oasis and land on the shore of the weird island.
"What in the hells is that made of?" Jett muttered."Not stone," Rumi said, tapping a fragment. "It's too light. Feels… wrong.""Maybe it's bone," Mira offered softly. "From something big."
Kairo said nothing. He crouched, brushing his fingers along the surface. The texture was unmistakable — smooth, cloudlike, warm to the touch.He remembered the images from his former life — the Sky Islands, where the ground itself was solid cloud.
So it's true… a piece of heaven fell here.
They followed an overgrown path inland until they reached what looked like a settlement. The houses were made from the same pale material — seamless, almost sculpted by wind.
Strangely, faint whispers drifted on the breeze — overlapping voices repeating words they had just spoken moments before.
"You hear that?" Aria asked."Yeah," Rumi murmured. "It's echoing us, exactly… But there's no strong wind like outside."
Kino frowned, glancing around.
"No cliffs, no caves. Sound shouldn't bounce like that."
"Maybe the island's haunted," Jett grumbled.
Kairo said nothing, but he could sense a subtle vibration underfoot — the same energy he'd felt back by the ship. The air itself seemed to remember.
The Echo Island, he thought. It's not the wind repeating us… it's the air itself, still alive with what used to be sky.
As they ventured deeper, the fog parted to reveal villagers — thin, pale-skinned people wrapped in cloth and feathers. They moved slowly, eyes painted with ash, voices low and harmonious.
At their center stood an old woman leaning on a staff carved from the white material.She studied them silently, then smiled faintly.
"The sea sends wanderers again," she said. "It has been many generations."
Kairo bowed slightly.
"We didn't mean to intrude."
"None intrude upon the dead," the woman replied. "You walk where gods once stood. The breath of the heavens still lingers here."
Aria whispered to Kairo,
"Gods? You think she means…?"
"The Sky People," Kairo said quietly — too softly for the others to catch.
The woman gestured for them to follow.
They were led to a vast ruin shaped like a broken cathedral. The roof was long gone, replaced by vines and white moss, but the structure itself seemed untouched by decay.
At its center stood a massive statue — a winged figure made of the same strange substance, arms outstretched toward the heavens.The locals knelt before it, humming in unison. The air trembled faintly, vibrating through their chests.
"They're… singing to it," Mira whispered."Or trying to wake it," Rumi said uneasily.
The elder spoke again, voice echoing unnaturally:
"We call this the Temple of Breath. When the heavens fell, the white gods wept. Their voices became the wind, and their homes turned to stone."
"You worship their ruins?" Kino asked gently.
"We remember them," she replied. "For they taught us to listen to the sky — and to fear its silence."
Kairo stepped closer to the statue, eyes tracing the faded carvings along its base.They were crude but familiar — spirals and symbols of wind, the kind he'd once seen carved into the Sky Island's cloud towers.
So this is where one of them fell, he thought. An entire fragment of heaven, dragged down by time or punishment.
The crew explored cautiously. Mira collected shards of the white substance, fascinated.
"It feels like stone, but it's hollow inside — like it's breathing."
"Then don't cut too deep," Rumi warned. "I don't want it breathing back."
Jett tapped one of the walls.
"You think we could build with this stuff? It's light, sturdy—"
A low hum interrupted him. The walls began to glow faintly, releasing a pulse of air that made the crew's voices reverberate unnaturally.
"Did… anyone else feel that?" Aria asked.
The old woman raised her staff.
"The gods grow restless when strangers touch their bones."
Before anyone could respond, the air around them condensed into swirling shapes — translucent, winged figures with hollow eyes.
"Get back!" Kairo ordered, drawing Kusanagi.
The spirits moved like vapor, leaving trails of light behind. They weren't attacking — yet — but circling, whispering.
Mira's voice trembled.
"They look like the statues…""Echoes," Rumi realized. "The island's echoes… brought to life."
Kairo stepped forward.
"We mean no harm. We came to learn."
The air hissed, vibrating violently. A shockwave sent him sliding back. The spirits' whispers rose, echoing their words in distorted mimicry.
Aria steadied her rifle.
"They're copying us again.""Then stop talking," Kairo said sharply.
The crew fought in silence. Jett's punches struck like thunder, while Mira's cleavers flashed in silent arcs. Aria's bullets tore through air itself, splitting the entities apart.Kairo, moving faster than sight, sliced through one after another — his blade leaving thin cuts that sealed themselves with mist.
When the last one faded, the old woman raised her staff again, striking the floor once.The wind stilled.
"You are not unwelcome," she said softly. "But you have stirred what sleeps. The sky remembers your names now."
At the temple's rear, Kairo found a cracked slab covered in faint etchings. He traced them with his fingertips.The symbols were old — older than the Void Century, older than anything the World Government would acknowledge.
It read:
"When the Sky's Pride fell to Earth, the Echo took its place. Those who breathe its memory will hear the path to the Sun Above."
He frowned.The path to the Sun Above… Sky Islands. And maybe… beyond even them.
But he said nothing. The others didn't need to know yet.
Now it was time to depart and explore the next island on our journey.
As the Fumigator set sail the next morning, the crew stood at the railing, watching the island fade behind them.The villagers sang on the shore, their voices carried by the wind.
"That place…" Mira murmured. "It felt sacred.""It was," Kairo said. "Even if no one remembers why."
The wind shifted, carrying a faint echo of their laughter back toward them — like the island was saying farewell.
Kairo looked up at the clouds above, faint and distant.
If the heavens really did fall once… how many more times can they?
The Grand Line stretched before them — mysterious, vast, and alive.