ON WINNER ISLAND…

I lay on the cold, unforgiving ground, gasping for breath, each inhale feeling like an effort to draw air through a tightening chest. Pain radiated through my body, sharp and relentless, as if the very earth beneath me was pressing in. I winced, letting out a sharp exhale, the sensation of weight bearing down on me nearly overwhelming. The world around me spun in dizzying circles, the horizon tilting in and out of focus. Every movement felt like it took twice the effort. My stomach churned, threatening to empty itself.

My eyes flickered open, scanning the barren battlefield. The scene around me was a grim reminder of the destruction that had just unfolded. The ship, once a symbol of our strength and camaraderie, was now a wreckage—a mangled heap of wood and metal scattered across the ground, its sails torn, its deck fractured. There was nothing left of what it had been, nothing that resembled the place where we once stood together, ready for adventure.

The crew... I didn’t know where they were. The aftermath of the battle was all I could see—bodies, debris, silence. My heart pounded, but no familiar faces appeared. A knot of dread tightened in my stomach. I tried to push it down, closing my eyes for a moment, focusing on the only thing I could control: my breathing. I needed to steady myself, to calm the frantic rhythm of my pulse. But it felt impossible.

Through the haze of pain and exhaustion, I noticed something lying several feet from me—a familiar shape in the wreckage. My hat. It was barely recognizable now, its fabric torn, the edges frayed from the chaos. It lay there, almost mocking me, a silent testament to everything that had been lost. The hat… it had always been a part of me, and now it seemed like a symbol of all that was broken.

I forced myself to sit up, though every muscle in my body screamed in protest. The effort felt like an eternity, and I almost collapsed again. But I couldn’t. Not yet. There was something I needed to find.