Weeks had passed since the trio had last stepped foot on solid ground. The vast, endless sea stretched out in every direction, offering nothing but the monotonous sound of waves and the occasional sight of a distant school of fish or a passing bird. The energy aboard the ship was starting to dwindle as boredom crept in. Days of training, fishing, and talking had blurred together, and a sense of restlessness filled the air.
Isaac leaned on the railing, staring out at the horizon as the sun dipped low. "It's been two weeks," he said, breaking the silence. "Not a single island. Not even a speck."
"Yeah, and the food reserves aren't looking too great either," Kieran said, sitting cross-legged on the deck with his arms crossed. "We've been lucky with fishing, but we can't keep this up forever."
Nolan, who had been checking the barrels of water in the corner of the deck, added, "We're not in immediate danger yet, but if we don't figure out where we are soon, we're going to have a real problem."
Isaac turned around, scratching the back of his head. "Alright, let's look at the map again. Maybe we're just... missing something."
The three of them gathered in the small cabin below deck, where they had spread out an old, slightly tattered map of the East Blue. Isaac pinned it to the table with one hand, while Kieran lit a lantern to brighten the dim room.
"Alright," Nolan said, pointing at the map. "We started here," he marked a spot near Foosha Village. "And we've been traveling... uh, somewhere?"
"That's the problem," Kieran said, slumping into a chair. "None of us know how to navigate properly. We've been sailing blind, just hoping to bump into something."
Isaac frowned, staring at the map. His eyes traced the grid-like patterns of latitude and longitude, though he didn't know how to use them. He tapped the map thoughtfully. "There has to be a way to figure this out. We can't just wander aimlessly forever."
"Do either of you know anything about reading stars or using a compass?" Nolan asked, though he sounded like he already knew the answer.
"Nope," Kieran replied, shaking his head. "I grew up in a village. No one taught me about that stuff."
"I'm more of a theory guy," Isaac admitted with a sigh. "I know some principles of navigation, like how to use the sun and stars, but I've never actually done it before. And this compass?" He held up the small, rusted device they'd found on the ship. "It doesn't seem to work. The needle just spins sometimes."
"Great," Kieran muttered, leaning back and kicking his feet onto the table. "We're geniuses, huh? A cook, a doctor, and a uhh… theory guy, and none of us know how to get from point A to point B."
Isaac frowned at the remark but didn't argue. "We need to figure something out. Maybe if we wait for nightfall, I can try to measure our position using the stars. It's not perfect, but it's better than nothing."
Kieran raised an eyebrow. "And you're sure you can do that?"
"I'm not sure about anything," Isaac admitted, "but I'll try."
They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their predicament sinking in. Finally, Nolan spoke up. "Let's make a plan. First, we'll gather all the tools and information we have—compass, map, anything useful. Then we'll wait for nightfall and let Isaac try his method. If that doesn't work..."
"We keep sailing and hope for the best," Kieran finished, his tone flat.
"Not much of a plan," Isaac said with a weak smile, "but it's what we've got."
For the rest of the evening, they prepared as best they could. Isaac rummaged through the ship's storage, finding a few more tools—a broken sextant, a tattered logbook that didn't seem relevant, and some spare parchment and ink. Nolan checked their supplies again, while Kieran cooked a simple dinner to keep everyone's spirits up.
As the sun set and the first stars appeared in the sky, the three of them returned to the deck. Isaac sat with the map spread out in front of him, squinting up at the constellations. He muttered to himself, making calculations in the dirt with a stick and referencing the map every so often.
After an hour of this, Kieran finally broke the silence. "So? Any luck?"
Isaac sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I have a rough idea of where we might be, but it's not precise. We could be anywhere in this general area," he said, gesturing to a wide swath of ocean on the map.
"That's... not very helpful," Nolan said, though his tone wasn't accusatory.
"It's the best I can do," Isaac said, sounding frustrated. "We need someone who actually knows how to navigate. Until we find an island and someone who can teach us or join us, we're stuck guessing."
Kieran crossed his arms, looking up at the stars. "Well, at least we're still moving. As long as we keep going, we'll find something eventually."
Isaac nodded reluctantly, folding up the map. "Let's hope it's sooner rather than later."
With no better options, they set a course based on Isaac's rough calculations and prepared for another night adrift on the endless sea.
…
…
The morning sun rose high over the ship as the trio began their day with another intense training session. Isaac stood at the center of the deck, his arms crossed as he looked over Kieran and Nolan, who were stretching lazily against the railings. The faint creak of the ship swaying against the waves served as a rhythmic backdrop.
"Alright, let's not waste daylight," Isaac said, grabbing a coiled rope from a nearby barrel. "Today's going to be tougher than usual. We've been drifting for weeks without land, and if we're serious about the Grand Line, we can't slack off."
"Do you ever wake up in a good mood?" Kieran groaned, tying back his long black hair. His golden eyes glinted in the sunlight as he grabbed a pair of weighted sacks.
"I'm always in a good mood when we're making progress," Isaac said with a smirk. "Now, both of you—start with the resistance ropes. You pull, and I'll… make it interesting."
Without waiting for a reply, Isaac flexed his fingers and channeled his Rikou Rikou no Mi abilities. The ropes they were holding suddenly became much harder to pull as their inertia shifted unpredictably. Nolan grunted in surprise, stumbling slightly as he tried to steady his grip.
"You've got to anticipate the changes!" Isaac shouted. "The world isn't going to wait for you to catch your balance!"
Kieran growled under his breath, his arms straining as he pulled against the rope with everything he had. "You say that like this is supposed to make sense!"
"It will," Isaac said. "When your body adjusts, you'll thank me."
Once he was sure they were sufficiently occupied, Isaac began his own workout. He picked up two barrels filled with seawater, one in each hand, and started lifting them rhythmically. His arms burned with the strain, but he relished the pain. As captain, he couldn't allow himself to fall behind. He needed to be the strongest—not just for himself, but for his crew.
Isaac didn't stop there. He moved on to balance training, setting up the same shifting stones he'd been practicing on for weeks. He leapt from one to the next, his devil fruit powers causing each one to move unpredictably under his weight. Every slip-up meant starting over, but Isaac didn't let frustration get the better of him. He was determined to master his own powers.
"Focus, focus…" he muttered to himself as he landed a particularly tricky jump. His mind raced with calculations, visualizing every possible reaction and counter-move.
Meanwhile, Nolan and Kieran finished their set and collapsed onto the deck, breathing hard. "How does he keep going like that?" Kieran asked, wiping sweat from his brow.
"Because he's got something to prove," Nolan replied, watching as Isaac continued to leap across the shifting stones. "He's not just pushing us—he's pushing himself even harder."
Isaac noticed their break and shouted over his shoulder, "Don't think I didn't see you two slacking! Get back to it!"
"Slave driver," Kieran muttered as he grabbed a barrel. But despite the grumbling, he couldn't deny the respect he was starting to feel for Isaac.
After another hour of grueling work, Isaac finally called for a break. He dropped to the deck, breathing heavily, and wiped the sweat from his face with the back of his hand. "Good work, both of you," he said. "We're getting stronger, bit by bit."
Kieran flopped onto the deck beside him, groaning dramatically. "Stronger? I feel like I'm dying."
"That's how you know it's working," Isaac said with a grin.
Nolan chuckled softly, sitting down with a canteen of water. "You really don't let up, do you?"
"I can't," Isaac said, his tone suddenly serious. He leaned back against the mast, looking up at the sky. "If we're going to survive out here—really survive—we have to be better than anyone who comes after us. The Grand Line isn't just going to test our strength. It's going to test our willpower, our intelligence, and our teamwork. If we're not ready, we won't make it."
The weight of his words settled over them, and for a moment, the trio sat in silence. Then Kieran broke it with a chuckle. "Alright, Captain. You've made your point. But next time, don't expect me to go easy on those barrels."
Isaac smirked. "Wouldn't have it any other way."
Kieran leaned over the ship's railing, squinting against the glare of the setting sun. He froze, his sharp yellow eyes catching the silhouette of a large ship approaching fast. The ship's black sails bore a crude and unfamiliar emblem, and the creak of its hull cutting through the waves carried an ominous weight.
"Uh… guys?" Kieran called, his voice uneasy.
Isaac, who had been tossing knives into a makeshift target with impeccable precision, turned sharply. "What is it?"
Kieran pointed, his expression grim. "We've got company, and they're not here to exchange pleasantries."
Isaac narrowed his eyes at the approaching vessel, studying the dozens of figures moving on deck. These weren't travelers or merchants—they were armed, chaotic, and clearly on a mission. Pirates.
"They're heading straight for us," Nolan said as he joined them, already stringing his bow with practiced efficiency. "What do we do?"
Isaac's calm demeanor didn't waver. "We fight."
As the enemy ship closed the gap, a cacophony of shouts and jeers echoed across the water. Grappling hooks flew over the railings of their ship, digging deep into the wood as the larger vessel loomed over them. The pirates wasted no time, swarming aboard like ants, weapons gleaming in the dying sunlight.
Isaac stepped forward, knives already in hand. "Kieran, weapons storage. Grab something sharp. Nolan, keep them at bay with the bow. We don't let them take the ship."
Kieran sprinted below deck, reemerging moments later with a slightly rusted but sturdy cutlass. "Found this beauty lying around!" he shouted, a fierce grin spreading across his face.
Isaac wasted no time. He launched his throwing knives with pinpoint accuracy, each blade glowing faintly green as his devil fruit powers amplified their speed and force. The first pirate went down with a knife buried deep in his shoulder, the second with one lodged in his thigh.
The enemy hesitated, startled by the precision and lethality of Isaac's attacks, but their numbers drove them forward.
Kieran charged into the fray, his cutlass gleaming as he engaged two pirates at once. His movements were quick and unpredictable, a mix of raw talent and desperation. He parried a sloppy attack from one pirate and retaliated with a well-aimed slash, sending his opponent sprawling.
"You guys picked the wrong ship!" Kieran shouted, his voice laced with adrenaline.
From the stern, Nolan provided cover, his arrows flying true. Each shot landed with precision, forcing the pirates to scatter or take cover. One arrow struck the helm of the enemy ship, halting their attempts to steer closer.
"Keep them off balance!" Nolan called, already nocking another arrow.
Isaac darted through the chaos, his agility unmatched. He grabbed a fallen pirate's cutlass, using it to block an oncoming strike before tossing another knife at a pirate attempting to flank Nolan. The blade caught its target in the side, sending the man crumpling to the deck.
The battle raged on, but the trio's coordination and determination proved too much for the disorganized pirates. Isaac used his powers creatively, altering the inertia of his thrown weapons to make them strike with the force of cannonballs. One pirate stumbled as a knife clipped his arm, only for the same blade to ricochet off the mast and hit another pirate square in the back.
Meanwhile, Kieran fought with reckless abandon, his cutlass flashing in the dim light as he fended off multiple attackers. A pirate lunged at him from behind, but he ducked low and spun, delivering a swift kick to the man's gut before finishing him off with a well-placed strike.
"You're better than I thought," Isaac called out, taking down another pirate with a perfectly timed knife throw.
"I get better when my life's on the line!" Kieran shouted back, slashing through the last pirate in his path.
As the remaining pirates tried to retreat, Nolan fired a warning shot that pinned one of their grappling hooks to the deck. "Not so fast!" he shouted, his voice cold and determined.
The battle raged like a storm, the trio moving as one, each fulfilling their role with precision and deadly intent. Isaac, his knives enveloped in faint green light, became a whirlwind of calculated violence, striking with pinpoint accuracy. Every throw carried the force of his devil fruit's power, blades embedding in their targets with an audible crack, sending pirates collapsing to the deck.
Kieran was a blur of raw energy, his sword flashing as he met every pirate head-on. Despite the rough state of the cutlass, his strikes were efficient and devastating. A pirate lunged at him, but Kieran sidestepped with agility, delivering a sharp riposte that left his opponent sprawled on the floor.
Nolan stayed at the back, using his bow to great effect. Arrows flew swiftly, each finding its mark with terrifying precision. A pirate climbing up the side of the ship dropped with a scream, an arrow buried deep in his shoulder.
The pirate crew dwindled rapidly, their morale shattering as their numbers fell. But Isaac, Kieran, and Nolan pressed on, ruthless and unrelenting. Blood painted the deck as one by one, the invaders fell under their combined assault.
Isaac moved with cold efficiency, catching a pirate's blade on the hilt of his knife and twisting it free with a flick of his wrist. He stepped past the stunned man and buried another knife into the back of a pirate who thought he could surprise Nolan.
Kieran kicked a fallen pirate off his sword before spinning to block another strike, his movements fluid and precise.
The last few pirates hesitated, seeing their comrades lying lifeless around them. Isaac stepped forward, his cold, calculating gaze freezing them in their tracks.
"Run, and I'll still find you," he said, his voice low and sharp. "Surrender, and I'll make it quick."
Before they could react, Isaac threw his knives, amplifying their speed. Two more pirates fell before they could even scream. The remaining combatants dropped their weapons and backed away, eyes wide with terror.
But their surrender came too late. Isaac gestured to Nolan and Kieran, who dispatched the last of them with grim efficiency. The deck fell silent, save for the sound of the waves and the heavy breathing of the trio.
As the dust settled, a muffled whimper drew their attention. In the shadows near the helm, a young woman cowered, clutching a navigational chart. Her long auburn hair was matted with sweat, and her hands trembled as she held the map like a lifeline.
Isaac strode toward her, his knives still in hand. Kieran and Nolan flanked him, weapons at the ready.
"Who are you?" Isaac demanded, his tone cold and detached.
"I'm... I'm the navigator," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please... don't kill me. I had no choice. They forced me to join them."
Isaac studied her for a moment, his eyes narrowing. He didn't sense the same malice in her as he had in the others. "You know these waters?"
She nodded frantically. "Better than anyone. I swear!"
"Good," Isaac said, his tone softening but still firm. "Here's the deal. You take us to the nearest island, and we'll spare you. Try anything, and I'll make sure you regret it."
The woman gulped, nodding quickly. "I'll do it. I promise."
"Start now," Isaac ordered, stepping back to give her space.
The woman scrambled to her feet, rushing to the helm. Kieran and Nolan exchanged a glance but said nothing as she began plotting their course.
As she adjusted the sails and pointed them toward the horizon, Isaac turned to his crew. "We'll need to keep an eye on her, but for now, we're heading to the nearest island. We'll rest, resupply, and figure out our next move."
Kieran sheathed his sword, his usual grin returning. "If she's lying, I call first crack at her."
Nolan shot him a disapproving look but said nothing, simply gathering his arrows and returning them to his quiver.
Isaac gazed at the horizon, his mind already working through the next steps.