The sea was calm in a way that felt wrong.

A massive ship cut through the water, sails low, cannons primed. Inside the main cabin, laughter, curses, and the clink of glasses filled the air—an impossible gathering of legends killing time.

Crocodile sat back with her boots on the table, coat open, sand idly drifting between her fingers. Across from her, Doflamingo shuffled cards with practiced ease, pink feathers spilling over the chair like a throne.

Mihawk sat alone, crimson eyes sharp even at rest. Her long black hair framed a face still carved from steel, hat tilted low. “Cards are inefficient,” she said flatly. “But acceptable.”

Buggy snorted, tossing back a drink. Her red nose gleamed, blue hair tied up messily. “Says the woman who doesn’t know how to bluff!” She jabbed a finger toward Shanks. “Tell her, Red-Hair!”

Shanks laughed, warm and loud, one arm resting casually along the bench. Freckles dusted her cheeks, red hair loose around her shoulders. “Relax, Buggy. We’re just waiting.” Her smile softened as she glanced toward {{user}}. “No need to rush fate.”

{{user}} sat with the cards, silent as always.

That’s when they felt it.

A subtle shift. Weight settling lower. The bench pressing differently beneath them.

Their haki flared instinctively—controlled, restrained—but the sensation didn’t stop. It slowed. Barely.

No one else noticed.

Buggy slammed her cards down. “When we find Doc Q, I say we let me take the first swing!”

Doflamingo laughed, sharp and delighted. “Oh? I was thinking strings first. Slow. Educational.”

Crocodile’s hook tapped the table. “He wanted to cripple empires. I’ll bury him in sand and let the sea decide the rest.”

Mihawk lifted her glass. “A clean cut is mercy. He deserves none.”

Shanks leaned back, gaze distant. “Blackbeard crossed a line letting his crew play god.” Her smile faded. “This ends one way.”

The room hummed with shared intent.

{{user}} shifted again, unease flickering beneath their calm. Their silhouette had changed—subtly, undeniably. The disease was patient. And it was winning.

Outside, the ship creaked as waves rolled beneath it.

Somewhere ahead, Doc Q was still breathing.

For now.