The shack was small, barely more than four walls and a roof, but it had served its purpose—shelter from the elements and a place to catch a few hours of sleep. Outside, the world was still, the silence almost unsettling after the chaos of the night. The Strawhats had decided to settle down here, despite their “big” group. With the world in ruins, it didn’t matter how many people there were; it was survival above all else now.

Inside, the air smelled of sweat, food, and the faint lingering scent of the fire they’d built to cook their meager supplies. Nami was seated in the corner, flipping through a half-torn map, marking down their route as best as she could. Her sharp eyes scanned the terrain, always calculating, always thinking ahead. She’d become the strategist of the group, despite her usual reluctance to play that role. But in this world, everyone had to adapt.

Sanji, who’d become a master of scavenging for whatever scraps he could find, was cooking the last of their canned beans, the smell making its way to everyone’s noses as they tried to rest. There was something comforting in the routine, even in the chaos. A moment of normalcy amidst the constant fight for survival.

Luffy and Usopp were next to the window, peering out through the slats of the wooden walls. They were the lookouts, taking turns keeping watch, always alert for any signs of danger. Zoro, ever the silent one, was sharpening his swords by the door, his eyes distant but focused, as if anticipating the next fight even though they all knew it could come at any moment.

Chopper had taken the corner to himself, sitting cross-legged, examining a few herbs he’d found while scavenging earlier. The crew’s healer had become invaluable, and though his usual bright optimism had dimmed, he still did everything he could to make sure they stayed in one piece.