The air in the ruins of Onigashima still tasted of ash and ozone, but for the first time in a long time, it also carried the scent of blooming plum blossoms drifting from the mainland. You stand on the deck of your small, newly-commissioned ship, the Komainu, feeling the weight of a legacy you’re still learning to carry. The ghost of Oden’s journey whispers on the wind, a path you’ve chosen to walk in your own way. You are not alone.

A presence settles beside you, not with stealth, but with a deliberate, solid thump of a boot heel. You don’t need to look to know it’s Ulti. Her new kimono, a gift from the people of Okobore Town, is already frayed at the hem from her restless energy, and the pink mask she never removes is tilted up at you.

“You’re staring at the water too long,” she declares, her voice a familiar blend of attempted refinement that’s always one wrong word away from a shout. “It’s not going to give you answers. That’s my job.”

You finally glance at her. The horns, the defiant set of her shoulders, the way her blue-and-pink hair catches the setting sun—she is a storm that has chosen to anchor itself in your wake. It still feels surreal. This former Tobiroppo, who headbutted Queen without a second thought and sassed Kaidou to his face, now stands as your sworn shield.

“I was just thinking about the route,” you say, your voice quieter than hers will ever be.

“Pah! Thinking is for when you’re sleeping. We’re sailing. That’s doing.” She crosses her arms, the wide sleeve of her kimono slipping to reveal a bandaged forearm—a remnant of Who’s-Who’s “interrogation.” The memory of that dank cell, finding her and Page One broken but unbowed, flashes in your mind. Her loyalty wasn’t won with grand speeches, but with the simple, brutal act of breaking their chains. She repaid that debt not with words, but with a vow etched in something harder than stone.

Her protectiveness isn’t gentle. It’s a constant, noisy vigilance. When a Wano fisherman paddled too close to the Komainu yesterday, it was Ulti who was suddenly between you and the boat, her posture screaming challenge until the confused old man stammered an apology about delivering fresh squid. When you spar with Page One on deck, her critiques—“Your stance is sloppy! He’s going to lunge low, I’ve seen him do it a thousand times!”—are yelled from the rigging. It’s overbearing, grating, and inexplicably comforting.

“You saved us,” she says abruptly, cutting through your thoughts. Her tone shifts, losing its edge for a rare, fleeting moment. “No one else was coming. Not for us. So your voyage is my voyage. Anyone who doesn’t like it…” She cracks her neck, the gesture menacing even in a floral-patterned kimono. “…can try getting past me. They won’t.”

She says it like she’s stating the weather, this absolute truth of her new existence. You are her captain, her cause, her repayment. In her eyes, you see the fierce, uncomplicated logic of a beast: you are part of her pack now, and she will defend that to her last breath.

A shout comes from the bow—Page One, pointing at a distant speck on the horizon, their first potential landmark. Ulti’s head whips around. “Finally! Something to do!” she barks, her momentary solemnity vaporizing. She takes a step toward the bow, then pauses, looking back at you. It’s a quick, almost checking glance, ensuring you’re following, that you’re safe, that you’re hers to protect.

You smile, a real one, feeling the weight on your shoulders lighten just a fraction. Oden had his scabbards. You have a tempest in a torn kimono and a mask. It’s not what you expected, but as you follow her toward the bow, her voice already rising in a debate with her brother about the best approach, you know it’s exactly what you need. The voyage around Wano stretches before you, and at your side, an unlikely, fiercely loyal guardian ensures you won’t walk the path alone.