The Corrupted Serpent cut through the dark, oily waters of the Black Ink Sea, the ship's hull creaking beneath the oppressive weight of the atmosphere. The sea itself seemed to throb with unnatural energy, and the crew could feel it. The Black Flame Pirates had been sailing for hours, but time seemed distorted here, as if the very nature of this place warped reality itself.
A heavy mist clung to the air, and strange, flickering lights danced just below the surface of the water. The sky above them was a bruised shade of purple, cracked with frequent lightning strikes, the thunder a constant rumble. In the distance, jagged islands could be seen, their peaks rising high above the sea like broken spires of some forgotten kingdom.
The sea was in constant motion—levitating masses of water, broken ships bobbed up and down in the air as if caught between gravity's grasp. Meteoroids—fiery rocks from the heavens—plummeted from the sky, crashing into the sea below with violent explosions. The water churned as enormous sea monsters, miles long, breached the surface, diving back down into the depths, their forms almost as massive as the floating islands themselves.
"This place is... unnatural," Guzen muttered, his eyes scanning the horizon. "How do we even know if this sea is real?"
Nixon, leaning against the mast, stroked his cane thoughtfully. "Reality is whatever we choose to make of it, Guzen. But that doesn't mean it isn't dangerous."
Joshua, the captain, stood at the helm, his sharp eyes tracing the dark horizon. His usual calm demeanor was tempered by the bizarre surroundings, yet he remained focused. "We're here to pass through. Nothing more. No need to waste time in this cursed place."
The ship rocked violently as another sea monster shot through the air, its long, serpentine body twisting and contorting before splashing down into the levitating waters below.
Laffitte, who had been scanning the horizon through a set of binoculars, suddenly lowered them. "Looks like an island is near," he said, his voice almost too calm for the situation. "Not far off."
The island, visible through the mist, seemed suspended in mid-air, surrounded by floating chunks of earth. It appeared haunted, as if it had never been meant for human habitation. Flickering lights dotted the land, casting an unsettling glow, while corpses—some fresh, some old—rained down like dirty raindrops, falling upward from the water, caught in an invisible current. The air smelled metallic, mingled with decay and salt.
"Doesn't seem much of interest," Guzen said dismissively, his gaze distant. "We don't have to stop base on what I'm seeing."
"Alright then," Joshua replied, "we can continue on our way then."
The ship continued forward, making steady progress toward the island, though it was clear the crew's unease was growing. The Black Ink Sea was not a place to linger, and whatever mystery lay on the island was not likely to be worth their time.
.....
The Black Seraphs had been in the Black Ink Sea for days, and they had made their base on Calamity's Rest, a cursed island of unstable geography and strange phenomena. Its floating landmasses were not merely a spectacle; they were a constant reminder of the island's twisted nature. The trees were gnarled and dead, their branches reaching toward the sky like skeletal fingers, while the ground beneath their feet occasionally levitated, creating pockets of air where nothing could grow.
The pirates, however, paid little mind to the bizarre environment. They were far more concerned with the treasure they had found.
The island was littered with gold, jewels, and precious metals, all loaded onto large containers by the Black Seraphs themselves. The pirates worked swiftly, carrying the precious cargo onto their ships, unloading the haul onto several large vessels docked at the island's shoreline. A dark aura lingered in the air, and the crew's conversations were punctuated by the heavy clinking of coins and the shuffling of containers.
Violet "The Phantom" Dorne - ( lieutanant of the Black Seraphs pirates) is a tall, gaunt figure with a cold, calculating presence that exudes danger. His long, slicked-back hair and silver mask—partially obscuring his face—add to his air of mystery, while his piercing ice-blue eyes seem to see through everything. He wears a flowing black cloak that billows around him like a shadow, its edges tattered from years of wear. Underneath, his dark tunic is reinforced with light armor, sleek and form-fitting, allowing him to move with precision and agility. His weapon of choice is a sleek, curved longsword with a dark, razor-sharp blade, the hilt adorned with intricate silver designs. He idly stroked the hilt of his blade as his eyes lingered on the crates filled with treasure.
Violet's Bounty: 145 Million Berries
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"I didn't expect this much gold," Violet said in a low, calculating tone. "The island's secret is more than I anticipated."
Corbin- ( lieutenant of the Black Seraphs pirates) The Beast, Iron Juggernaut, stands nearly 7 feet tall, his massive, muscle-bound frame a testament to years of brutal combat. He wears army-style joggers, dark and rugged with camouflage patterns, torn at the edges from battle. His sleeveless leather vest, reinforced with metal plates, exposes his heavily scarred arms, which are covered in tattoos. His black combat boots are scuffed and well-worn, and he carries a massive greatsword—jagged and worn, but wielded effortlessly with his immense strength. His hair is dark, unkempt, and his beard thick, giving him a feral, untamed look. His predatory grin reveals sharp, jagged teeth, and his eyes gleam with ferocity. Around his neck hangs a dog tag-like pendant, a relic from his violent past, completing his image as a force of raw, untamed power.
Corbin's Bounty: 130 Million Berries
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"Yeah, didn't think we'd find this much treasure in a place like this," Corbin chuckled darkly. "Seems like the previous owners didn't fare too well. Who knows what happened here, but it's their loss."
He turned to Violet. "But the Devil Fruits—two of them, huh? That's a rare find."
Violet's gaze shifted toward the crates containing the fruits. One was a deep crimson fruit with flame-like markings on its skin, while the other was a blueish-purple fruit, swirling with mystical patterns.
"Two Devil Fruits," Violet muttered, his tone almost reverent. "I'll admit, I wasn't expecting to find these here. But we should be careful. The Grand Line's unpredictable."
Corbin's grin widened. "The Captain's gonna be ecstatic when he hears about this. But it'll take a week at least to transport all of this back to the ship. I wonder which of us gets to take one of those fruits?"
Both of their eyes flashed with an unspoken hunger. The competition between the lieutenants was fierce, and both knew that whoever claimed the fruits would have their power drastically increased.
"I could use one of these," Corbin growled, his teeth bared. "I'm already strong, but with one of these fruits, I could become unstoppable."
Violet raised an eyebrow, his mask glinting. "Well they are not of any interest to me sense, I already have a devil fruit but my interests are contrary to that of others like you Corbin... but I'm sure the Captain will decide who gets them, he added as he whilst looking on the pirastes at work.
"Haha, your right Violet, it all depends on the Captains choice but I totally forgot that you already had a devil fruit Corbin laughed loudly has the aura around whcih brewed decpiatated. "Well it would just leave them he added hwith his eyes carrying flashes of light. Violet did not response to him even he if did not have a devil fruit, both of them probably would not get it as they are not the only one who would want them on the crew. For let just say the pirate crew is very competitive.
...
The Corrupted Serpented sliced through the unnatural waters of the Black Ink Sea, its hull creaking under the strain of the oppressive atmosphere that hung over the crew like a dark cloud. Time in this cursed place felt disjointed, as if it existed in a space outside the usual flow of reality. Every passing hour felt like a minute, every minute stretched into what seemed like eternity. The ship lurched with each rolling wave, as though even the ocean itself had grown sentient and decided to push back against the Corrupted Serpent with its own malevolent force.
Guzen, standing at the bow with a set of binoculars, let out a sigh of faux exasperation. His eyes swept over the mist-shrouded island, barely visible against the churning sea. "You know," he drawled, turning back to the rest of the crew, "a matter of fact, why don't we stop by?" He gestured vaguely toward the gathering of ships anchored near the island, their sails eerily still in the windless air. "Seems like a good chance to say hello to our fellow pirates down there, you know."
The island loomed ominously ahead, surrounded by floating landmasses that defied the laws of nature. Its jagged cliffs jutted upward like the bones of some colossal, ancient creature, while beneath them, strange, otherworldly creatures rained upward from the depths of the sea in a disturbing, cyclical motion. It was a macabre, unsettling sight—perfectly in tune with the grim, cursed Black Ink Sea.
"Perhaps offer them some friendly advice on how to... not get themselves killed whilst sailling on the grandline," Guzen smiled with thoughtfulness in in eyes.
His words cut through the quiet like a knife, but none of the crew were truly fooled. There was something else in his voice—something more serious than usual.
Nixon, the ever-poised of the bunch, didn't even look up from his spot against the mast. His gloved hand idly tapped the silver ball at the top of his needle, but there was a hidden depth to his gaze as he stared at the island ahead. "Oh, quite," he said, his voice dripping with dry sarcasm, thick with an English accent. "I'm sure we'll be met with open arms—tea and biscuits, perhaps?"
Laffitte, ever the opportunist, joined in with a smirk, his tone smooth and laced with amusement. "A lovely thought, Nixon. Perhaps they'll even offer us a banquet. I, for one, can't resist the charm of a good conversation. Might even convince them to give us the treasure without a fight for peace is better than war, is it not."
Joshua, who had been silently watching the horizon with an intensity that contrasted with the crew's banter, turned slightly at the mention of treasure. His face remained unreadable, but there was an underlying focus to his gaze, as though he could feel the pull of something on the island—a presence that was not entirely natural.
"I suppose a polite visit wouldn't hurt," Joshua remarked, his voice calm yet weighted with quiet authority. "After all, manners and respect is what will carry us through the world." His words were measured, as if he were already mentally calculating the best way to approach there new possible friends.
Motoa, the ancient, sickly giant of a man, was less inclined to sarcasm. With his hands resting on his long cane, his raspy voice cut through the conversation like a whisper of wind. "A visit, huh?" he croaked, his voice thick with age and a hint of bitterness. "I hope their guest service is better than their hospitality, though. At my age, I'm not as spry as I used to be." He coughed violently, leaning slightly against the side of the ship.
"Let's go meet our fellow adventurers," Joshua said with a faint but unmistakable smile. There was something in his voice—an edge to his words that carried the weight of unspoken resolve.
" Its settled, onward we go then," Guzen pointed enthusiastically.
"Well then the captain have spoken and let me do the honours." Let's go say hello to our fellow adventurers."
Laffitte, with a smooth motion, spun the wheel with practiced ease, guiding the Corrupted Serpent toward the island. The ship cut through the eerily still waters, its dark form casting an elongated shadow against the flickering lights of the island ahead. The crew, still sharp and ready, steeled themselves for whatever awaited them.
"I really can't stand these mortals."
Enel who was watchin this just shook in head in distain. With his mantra he is able to sense exactly what going on, on that island and so how can he not know why they suddenly decided to change the ship's coarse.
....
As the Corrupted Serpent drew closer, the island seemed to react with a violent, almost primal desperation, as though it were a living, tortured creature trying to escape the ship's ominous approach. The air thickened with a suffocating, rotten stench, and the very ground beneath the floating chunks of land shuddered in what could only be described as a painful, convulsive effort to break free.
The jagged cliffs, which had once seemed so solid, now twisted unnaturally, their sharp edges bending in grotesque, impossible angles, as if the island itself were trying to recoil. The once-stable landmasses now buckled and trembled in midair, some even cracking open, leaking blood-red sap that stained the water below. The island was no longer a silent, unyielding presence—it was alive, suffering, and desperate to escape the fate that seemed inevitable with every passing second.
The sea, as if in sympathy with the island's agony, churned violently. Waves broke with sickening ferocity, sending up plumes of foamy, black water that splashed onto the deck of the ship, leaving a strange, oily residue. The water boiled with unnatural heat, bubbling and swirling like a cauldron of poison. Bodies—twisted, disfigured, and barely recognizable—rained upward from the depths, their eyes wide in horror as if they were trying to escape the island's pull. Some had already rotted beyond recognition, their flesh torn and shredded, hanging loosely from broken bones, while others were still twitching in a grotesque parody of life.
The island seemed to be vomiting up the remnants.
Among the pirates, one of the lookouts, perched high above a rickety tower, squinted through his spyglass and caught sight of something on the horizon. His eyes widened, and he quickly dropped the glass, turning to raise the alarm.
One of the The Black Seraphs barked out, "There's a ship approaching!" His voice was full of alarm, and he rushed to report the news to the lieutenants overseeing the operation.