The compass needle spun wildly in Kael's weathered hands, defying every natural law he'd learned in his six years as a Marine cartographer. Above him, the sky had turned the color of old bruises, pregnant with a violence that made his skin crawl. The wind shrieked across the deck of the Meridian's Pride like a banshee, and salt spray stung his eyes as he struggled to maintain his footing.
"Lieutenant Kael!" Captain Morrison's voice barely carried over the howling gale. "What's our position?"
Kael pressed his back against the ship's mast, clutching his instruments close to his chest. The log pose on his wrist – a standard issue Marine navigation tool – pointed steadily toward Water 7, but something was wrong. The magnetic readings were all over the place, as if the very sea itself was trying to mislead them.
"Two kilometers southeast of Water 7, sir!" he shouted back, though doubt gnawed at his gut. In all his years mapping the Grand Line's treacherous waters, he'd never seen weather patterns like this. The storm had appeared from nowhere, swallowing their routine supply run like a hungry beast.
Lightning split the sky in jagged purple veins, illuminating mountains of water that rose around their ship like liquid cliffs. The Meridian's Pride groaned under the assault, her reinforced hull creaking ominously as waves crashed over her deck with thunderous force.
Seaman Third Class Rivera stumbled past him, his face pale with terror. "The cargo hold's taking on water!" he yelled. "Pumps can't keep up!"
Kael's heart sank. They were carrying sensitive mapping equipment – months of survey work that would be lost if the ship went down. More importantly, they were carrying sixteen good Marines who trusted him to get them home safely.
"Sir!" he called to Morrison, who was wrestling with the wheel alongside two other sailors. "We need to change course! The storm's pushing us toward the rocks!"
Morrison's face was grim. "Negative! Water 7's our only chance! The harbor breakwater will give us shelter!"
But Kael could see what the captain couldn't – or wouldn't. His trained eye caught the subtle signs in the wave patterns, the way the wind shifted just slightly every few minutes. This storm wasn't natural. It moved with purpose, herding them like sheep toward a slaughter.
"Captain, please!" Kael abandoned his post, sliding across the rain-slicked deck toward the helm. "This storm – it's not following normal patterns! We need to turn around!"
"Belay that!" Morrison snarled, his knuckles white on the wheel. "I've been sailing these waters since before you were born, boy! We push through!"
Another massive wave crashed over the bow, sending cascades of seawater across the deck. Kael felt the ship list dangerously to starboard, and somewhere below, he heard the ominous sound of splintering wood.
He closed his eyes, trying to center himself the way his mentor had taught him back at Marineford. Feel the ocean's rhythm, Admiral Tsuru had said during his advanced navigation training. The sea speaks to those who know how to listen.
But all he could hear was chaos.
The ship lurched violently, throwing him against the rail. His compass went flying, disappearing into the churning waters below. For a moment, as he watched his most precious instrument vanish, Kael felt a strange sensation – as if something vast and ancient was watching him from beneath the waves.
"All hands on deck!" Morrison bellowed. "Prepare for emergency harbor approach!"
Kael looked up to see Water 7 looming ahead through sheets of rain. The island's distinctive tiered structure was barely visible through the storm, but what he could see made his blood run cold. The usual calm waters around the harbor were a roiling mass of whitecaps and debris.
"Captain, the harbor mouth is too narrow!" he protested. "In these conditions, we'll be dashed against the sea train tracks!"
"I know what I'm doing!" Morrison shot back, but Kael could hear the uncertainty creeping into his voice.
The storm seemed to sense their desperation. Lightning struck the water mere meters from their hull, the thunderclap so loud it left Kael's ears ringing. In the brief, brilliant illumination, he saw something that made his stomach drop.
Rocks. A line of jagged coral formations that definitely weren't on any chart he'd ever drawn.
"CAPTAIN!" he screamed, but it was too late.
The Meridian's Pride struck the hidden reef with a sound like the world breaking in half. The impact threw Kael forward, his head striking the deck hard enough to see stars. Around him, Marines cried out in pain and terror as the ship began to come apart.
Water rushed over the deck as the hull split open like a ripe fruit. Kael struggled to his feet, tasting blood, and saw Morrison trapped beneath a fallen beam. Without hesitation, he lunged forward, putting his shoulder against the heavy wood.
"Help me!" he gasped, and two other Marines joined him in lifting the beam. Morrison crawled out, his leg clearly broken, but alive.
"The lifeboats!" Morrison wheezed. "Get everyone to the lifeboats!"
But as Kael looked around, his heart sank. The lifeboats were gone – swept away in the initial impact or already deployed by panicked crew members. They were trapped on a sinking ship in the middle of a supernatural storm with no way off.
Another massive wave struck, this one rolling completely over the ship. Kael felt himself lifted off his feet, tumbling through a world of salt water and darkness. When he surfaced, gasping and choking, the Meridian's Pride was already halfway underwater.
"Swim for shore!" someone screamed, but the voice was lost in the storm's fury.
Kael treaded water desperately, looking for something – anything – to hold onto. His Marine coat was dragging him down, so he shrugged out of it, watching his rank insignia disappear into the depths. Around him, his crewmates fought for their lives against the merciless sea.
A piece of the ship's mast floated past, and he lunged for it, wrapping his arms around the familiar wood. The storm raged on, but now he had something solid to cling to. He could survive this. He had to.
As he held on for dear life, Kael caught a glimpse of movement in the water – something large and dark passing beneath him. For a terrifying moment, he thought it might be a Sea King, but the shape was wrong. Too geometric. Too... purposeful.
Lightning flashed again, and in that instant of illumination, he could have sworn he saw eyes looking up at him from the depths. Ancient eyes, full of a patience that spoke of centuries spent waiting.
Then the storm surge caught him, and Kael was swept away from the wreckage, carried by currents that seemed to have a mind of their own. The last thing he saw before exhaustion claimed him was the lights of Water 7, impossibly distant and growing dimmer by the second.
The sea had claimed another ship, another crew. But somehow, Kael couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning.