---
The crew moved cautiously back through the jungle, the weight of their recent encounter with the beast still fresh in their minds. Michael led the way, his knife at the ready, while Lia and Amara followed close behind, their eyes scanning the dense foliage for any signs of movement. The air was heavy with tension, but the distant murmurs of voices told them they were nearing the pirates' camp.
When they stepped into the clearing, they found the pirates regrouping near the fire. Weapons were being checked, supplies hastily packed, and nerves visibly frayed. The leader—the scarred man who had confronted Michael earlier—looked up sharply as they approached, his grip tightening on his cutlass.
"You're still alive?" he said, a mix of disbelief and grudging respect in his voice.
Michael stopped a few paces away, his expression unreadable. "We're tougher than we look. That thing won't be bothering you for a while."
The man frowned. "What do you mean?"
"It's in the ravine," Michael said simply. "We forced it over the edge."
The pirates exchanged glances, their disbelief turning to cautious relief. One of them, a younger man with a wild shock of hair, let out a low whistle. "You're serious? You took on that monster and lived?"
"Barely," Lia muttered, crossing her arms. "And it wasn't easy."
Amara smirked. "You're welcome, by the way."
The leader sheathed his cutlass and approached them, his posture slightly more relaxed. "Name's Garrick," he said. "And you've just done us a favor we didn't think anyone could pull off. That beast has been hunting us for weeks."
Michael nodded. "Michael. This is Lia and Amara. We didn't do it for you, Garrick—we did it to survive. But now that we've dealt with your problem, you're going to help us."
Garrick's eyes narrowed. "Help you? And why would we do that?"
"Because you owe us," Michael said evenly. "And because we know that thing wasn't the only danger on this island. You've been here longer than us. Tell us what we're dealing with."
Garrick hesitated, his jaw tightening as he weighed his options. Finally, he sighed and gestured for them to sit by the fire. "Fine. You've earned that much."
---
The pirates gathered around the fire, their wariness replaced by a cautious camaraderie. Garrick leaned forward, poking the flames with a stick as he began to speak.
"This island's cursed," he said bluntly. "We didn't plan to stay here. Our ship ran aground on the rocks near the southern cliffs. By the time we realized what kind of place this was, it was too late."
"Too late how?" Michael asked.
"The beast is just one part of it," Garrick said. "This place… it messes with your head. Strange things happen. People disappear, and when they come back—if they come back—they're not the same."
Lia shivered. "What kind of strange things?"
"Voices in the jungle," Garrick said, his tone grim. "Shadows that move when they shouldn't. And that's when the island's calm. When it's angry, the storms come."
Michael exchanged a glance with Amara, whose expression had grown darker. "This island is alive," she said. "Not just in the way all islands are, but something deeper. It's like it's watching us."
Garrick nodded. "Exactly. We've tried to leave before, but the storms always force us back. It's like the island won't let us go."
Michael's jaw tightened. "What about the beast? Was it always here?"
Garrick shook his head. "No. It showed up a few weeks after we did. Like the island created it to keep us in line."
"Convenient," Amara muttered. "And now it's gone. What's stopping you from leaving?"
"Our ship's too damaged to sail," Garrick admitted. "And we don't have the supplies to fix it. Even if we did, the storms are still a problem."
Michael leaned back, his mind racing. The information confirmed what he had already suspected: this island was more than it seemed. But if it was alive, it wasn't invincible. The beast had fallen, and that meant the island's defenses could be beaten.
"We can help you leave," Michael said finally. "But we're going to need something in return."
Garrick raised an eyebrow. "Help us? How?"
"We have a ship," Michael said. "The Eclipse is sturdy enough to make it through the storms, but it'll need a full crew to handle the trip. You help us, we help you."
"And why should we trust you?" one of the other pirates asked, his voice laced with suspicion. "What's stopping you from leaving us behind once the ship's ready?"
Michael's gaze hardened. "Because if I wanted to leave you behind, I wouldn't have walked back into your camp. We're stronger together. It's as simple as that."
Garrick studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "All right. We'll help you. But if you double-cross us…"
"You'll regret it. Got it," Michael said, his tone calm but firm. "Let's focus on surviving first."
---
The next few days were a whirlwind of activity. The pirates moved their supplies to the Eclipse, working alongside Michael's crew to repair the damage from the storm and prepare for the journey. Garrick's men proved surprisingly capable, their experience as sailors evident in their efficiency.
Michael took every opportunity to observe the pirates, his Observation Haki attuned to their movements and intentions. While some still harbored distrust, Garrick himself seemed genuine in his desire to escape the island.
Lia and Amara worked tirelessly, their training and discipline setting an example that even the pirates begrudgingly respected. Lia, in particular, had a knack for organizing the chaos, her quick thinking and sharp instincts keeping everyone on track.
"You've got a good crew," Garrick said to Michael one evening as they stood on the deck, watching the sun set over the jungle. "Better than I expected."
"They've earned it," Michael said simply. "And they'll keep earning it."
Garrick nodded, his expression thoughtful. "This place has a way of testing people. You've passed. Let's hope the sea is kinder."
"It won't be," Michael said. "But that's why we're ready."
As the Eclipse prepared to set sail, the tension among the crew and the pirates began to ease. They had faced the dangers of the island together, and while trust was still fragile, it was growing.
The day of departure dawned clear and bright, the air carrying a sense of anticipation. Michael stood at the helm, his hands steady on the wheel as he looked out over the horizon.
"Everyone ready?" he called.
A chorus of affirmatives answered him, and Michael felt a rare flicker of pride. Together, they would face whatever lay ahead. The Grand Line was vast and unpredictable, but they had already proven they could survive its challenges.
The Eclipse's sails caught the wind, and the ship began to move, leaving the island behind. The journey continued, and the crew was ready for whatever came next.
---