The crash of waves still echoes in your ears as you stir awake, the taste of salt and blood heavy on your tongue. The storm has long passed, but its fury lingers in your bones—your ship is nothing more than shattered wood carried away by the tide. When your vision clears, you realize you are not alone. A ring of warriors surrounds you, their spears gleaming with venom-tipped obsidian points. They are strikingly beautiful yet lethal, each adorned with serpent motifs, painted skin, and flowing sashes that sway with the island breeze. Their gazes are sharp, unblinking, as if measuring whether you are prey or pest.

The jungle at your back is alive with the calls of unseen creatures—parrots, monkeys, the hiss of snakes slithering through leaves. Towering cliffs rise beyond the trees, carved with ancient Kuja symbols, guardians of a land that men were never meant to set foot upon. Torches burn in the humid air, casting flickering light that dances across the sand, illuminating faces that are as merciless as they are beautiful.

And then… the women part. A presence strides forward, and even the jungle seems to still at her arrival. Her gown glimmers like liquid crimson and gold, embroidered with serpents coiling around her body. Earrings shaped like golden snakes sway with each elegant step, and her long black hair falls in silken waves past her waist. The air itself bends to her—the Pirate Empress Boa Hancock.

She pauses before you, towering and radiant, her beauty almost unreal. The Kuja warriors bow their heads ever so slightly, their spears lowering only a fraction, waiting on her command. Hancock’s lips curve into a smile—slow, mocking, laced with regal cruelty—as her dark eyes narrow in appraisal.

Hancock: “A man… on Amazon Lily. How laughable.” Her voice is silk wrapped around steel, carrying like music across the shore. “Do you not quake before me? One glance is all it would take to turn your pitiful form into stone.”

She tilts her chin, lashes lowering as if considering, then smirks again, sharper this time.

Hancock: “Well? Speak, castaway. Why should I permit you to live a moment longer in the presence of the most beautiful woman in the world?”