The silence of the island, which Caelum had grown used to after months of solitude, was broken not by a sound, but by a vibration.
He was near the galleon, trying to dig out a wooden beam, when his skin tingled.
It wasn't the humidity.
It wasn't the wind.
It was a pressure at the back of his neck.
A dull hum.
Something entering his space.
His safety range.
Four meters.
Beyond that… his perception became unclear.
He turned sharply.
And saw them.
A few meters away, partially hidden by the vegetation surrounding the cove, three men were watching him.
They weren't soldiers.
They weren't Marines.
They were scavengers.
Dirty clothes, rusted weapons, the gaze of animals used to never being stopped.
—Look what we found… —said one of them, a thin man with a scar running across his nose—. A castaway.
Caelum felt his heart hammering hard.
Instinctively, small violet sparks jumped from his knuckles.
He wasn't controlling it.
He never fully controlled it.
"Three targets. Two melee weapons. One firearm. Distance: five meters. They are within attack range. I am within theirs."
His mind wasn't thinking about combat.
It was calculating survival probabilities.
Fear made his body react.
A faint mist began to seep from his skin.
—What the hell is that? —the scarred man stepped back, drawing his weapon—. Are you smoking, freak?
—I don't want trouble… —Caelum said, his voice rough from disuse—. Just leave.
They didn't leave.
Fear turned into greed.
If that man was strange… then he was valuable.
Or hiding something.
The largest of them moved first.
No warning.
No dialogue.
Only intent.
Caelum didn't know how to fight.
No stance.
No technique.
Only reaction.
When the man entered his four-meter radius, Caelum "felt" him as a mass of heat and metal moving toward him.
—Back off!
His arm moved before he thought.
It wasn't a punch.
It was an instinctive discharge.
His limb transformed into a violet plasma whip.
The air cracked with a violent electrical snap.
The strike didn't hit flesh.
It hit metal.
The machete.
The iron reacted like a lightning rod.
A burst of light.
A violent hiss of steam.
The weapon dropped to the ground, glowing red-hot.
The pirate screamed, stumbling back with burned hands.
Caelum was breathing fast.
Too fast.
Using that energy was draining him.
The mist over his body flickered, unstable.
The second pirate raised his gun.
Caelum saw him.
Saw the finger.
Saw the movement.
And his body understood something very simple:
too late to dodge.
His mind didn't choose.
His body reacted.
It destabilized.
His torso turned into a violet vapor cloud.
The bullet passed through the space where his chest had been.
It struck the wood behind him.
Caelum felt a hollow emptiness.
Like something had been ripped out of him.
But he didn't fall.
He wasn't injured.
The pirate stepped back.
—He's a user! He's a damn monster!
Caelum didn't understand the word.
Only the fear in his voice.
He didn't attack immediately.
He thought.
Not strategy.
But the only thing he could control:
the environment.
He released energy.
Not as an attack.
As expansion.
Heat.
Vibration.
Pressure.
The air's humidity thickened.
Within seconds, the cove was engulfed in a dense cloud of hot vapor.
Zero visibility.
Caelum couldn't see.
But he could feel.
Metal.
Movement.
Heat.
The world became a map of sensations.
The gunman entered his range.
Four meters.
Too close.
Caelum moved forward.
Touched the weapon.
That was all.
A brief discharge.
Not to destroy.
To overload.
The metal reacted.
The remaining gunpowder detonated from accumulated heat.
The pistol exploded in the pirate's hand.
The scream came instantly.
The third man didn't hesitate.
He ran.
The other two followed, stumbling, blinded by vapor and pain.
Within minutes, the cove fell silent again.
Caelum collapsed against the galleon's hull.
Breathing heavily.
The steam slowly dissipated.
His body trembled.
Not from pain.
From overload.
On the ground, something glinted.
A bundle of papers.
Dropped during the escape.
Caelum picked it up with unsteady hands.
He didn't understand the material.
But he understood it mattered.
He opened it.
Images.
Text.
Information from a world he didn't recognize.
And then he saw it.
A bounty.
A face.
A cruel smile.
A name.
"Arlong 'The Saw' — 20,000,000 Berries"
Caelum went silent.
He looked at the paper.
Then at his hands.
Small sparks still escaped his skin.
—I'm not on just any island…
His voice was low.
Almost disbelieving.
He looked at the sea.
The pirates' boat was disappearing in the distance.
And for the first time since arriving in this world…
he understood something important.
This wasn't an isolated accident.
It was something far bigger than him.
And he was only just beginning to see its rules.
—And definitely… I'm not the only one they would call a monster here…
The wind hit his face.
The sea remained open.
Waiting.
And this time…
Caelum understood that staying was no longer an option.