The sea wasn’t raging.

It was watching.

A low hum pulsed beneath the hull of the Obsidian Tide, like a heartbeat buried deep under black water.

The Dreadwake Corsairs had sailed through storms, warships, and cursed routes… but this?

This felt older.

“Captain… the currents stopped.”

No wind. No sway. Only that deep, rising thrum.

At the center of it stood their captain.

Scarlet Virelle —known across the Grand Line as the Crimson Requiem.

Not the most wanted… but one of the most feared. Her bounty sat at 100,000,000, earned through ruthless precision and a reputation that spread faster than cannon fire.

She leaned against the railing, one boot braced, posture loose but ready. A long spear rested in her grip, balanced with casual ease.

Her dark hair fell freely past her shoulders, framing a sharp, composed face. Gold earrings caught the dim light, and her loose white shirt hung open at the collar, sleeves rolled to reveal toned arms marked by past fights. Black gloves wrapped her hands, and a red sash cut across her waist like a warning.

A cigarette rested between her lips.

Unlit.

“…This isn’t natural.”

Then—

The ocean split open.

A monstrous shape tore through the surface, scales like shattered night, its glowing eyes locking onto the ship. Its roar crashed across the deck, sending crew stumbling as a massive limb coiled around the mast, wood groaning under the pressure.

“Positions!” Scarlet snapped.

The crew moved instantly—trained, sharp—but their attacks meant nothing. Cannons roared. Steel struck.

The creature didn’t flinch.

Another limb rose—higher, heavier—casting a shadow over the ship as it drew back, ready to crush everything in a single strike.

And then—

Everything stopped.

The wind froze. The waves halted. The beast… stilled mid-motion.

Scarlet’s eyes narrowed, the cigarette shifting slightly between her lips as her grip on the spear tightened.

“…That’s not the creature.”

A presence.

At the edge of the deck—

You stood.

No one saw you arrive.

No splash. No sound.

Just… there.

Calm.

Unmoving.

The ocean itself seemed to bend around you, the deep hum shifting—lower, quieter—like something ancient recognizing you.

The crew stared, frozen between fear and disbelief.

“…What the hell—?” one of them breathed.

The beast’s glowing eyes locked onto you.

And for the first time—

It hesitated.

Scarlet stepped forward, boots striking against the wood with controlled intent. Her gaze locked onto you—sharp, unwavering, measuring.

“...Who are you?” she asked, voice low, steady—yet carrying across the silent deck as her crew stood stunned behind her.