The evening air on the deck of the Dreadnought Thalassa was a warm breath of life. It carried the sharp, clean scent of the deep ocean, now mingled with the faint, metallic tang of the ancient hull warming in the day's last light. The sun had bled away into a horizon of molten gold and bruised purple, leaving a sky dusted with early stars and dominated by a fat, silver moon. Its light lay across the dark, whale-smooth deck like a sheet of polished pearl, broken only by the long, jagged shadows of the retracted fin-sail.
The group had gathered on the expansive foredeck, a space that felt like the plaza of a floating city. The calm waters of the Calm Belt stretched around them, a black mirror reflecting the cosmos, so still it felt like they were suspended in the heart of a giant, dark jewel.
Aurélie, her silver hair loose and catching the moonlight, stood with her arms crossed, her gaze critical. "The purpose of this nocturnal gathering eludes me. Should we not be within, cross-referencing the vessel's navigational archives with contemporary charts? Time is not a luxury we possess."
Marya, leaning against the railing with her leather jacket open to the cool breeze, gave a single nod. Her boots were planted firmly on the deck. "Yes. But first, we need to check on the locations of specific assets. The charts can wait for a confirmed destination."
Charlie, who had been vibrating with the need to dive back into the ship's records, cleared his throat with a sharp "Ahem!" "And how, pray tell, are we to accomplish such a feat out here in the maritime dark? Do you possess some form of global clairvoyance? A network of informants on every current?"
Marya ignored him, turning her head towards Galit. The young lieutenant, his posture still careful but his eyes alive with focused energy, gave a confirming nod. He walked to the center of the cleared deck space, carrying a simple metal bucket sloshing with seawater he'd drawn up from the side. The water smelled of salt and depth.
Perched on the railing, Jelly was being transformed by the sea wind. He had stretched himself out, thin and wide, his azure form rippling and flapping like a translucent, gelatinous flag trying to escape its pole. A soft, mournful "Wheeeee-bloop!" whistled from his body as the wind caught him.
"Jelly, you'll blow away!" Eliane giggled, lunging and catching a corner of his wobbly form just as a stronger gust threatened to carry him off into the night. She held on, her feet sliding slightly on the deck, treating him like the world's most unpredictable, living kite.
"Right," Marya said, her voice cutting through the minor chaos. All eyes turned to her as she reached into the pocket of her denim shorts. Her fingers closed around the cool, familiar weight of the Celestial Tideglass. She pulled it out—the simple, crystal hexagon compass looking utterly ordinary in the moonlight.
Without ceremony, she dropped it into the bucket of seawater.
The effect was not instantaneous. For a breath, nothing happened. Then, the moonlight striking the water's surface thickened, to be drawn downward. The crystal of the Tideglass ignited with a soft, internal silver fire. From the bucket, a beam of concentrated moonlight lanced upward, hitting an invisible plane about head-height and exploding into a complex, three-dimensional hologram.
It was a map of the world, but not as any cartographer would draw it. The continents were faint, ghostly outlines. The dominant features were the oceans, depicted in swirling, glowing lines of blue and white energy that pulsed with life—the Grand Line, the Calm Belts, the countless currents like celestial highways. And scattered across this luminous seascape, like fallen stars frozen in the flow, were dozens of distinct, pulsing symbols. Each was unique: a tiny, swirling vortex; a stylized flame; a minuscule, leafless tree; a pair of wings.
Aurélie's eyes, usually so cool, narrowed into blades. She took a half-step forward. "What is this? Some form of… energy signature tracker?"
Galit, his sharp eyes already scanning the flowing lines, answered without looking away. "It's a real-time locator for Devil Fruits. Their unique energy signatures, mapped against the planet's spiritual and oceanic currents."
Charlie's jaw made an audible clunk as it hit his chest. He stared, his glasses reflecting the swirling light. "WHAT?" The word was less a question and more a short circuit of his entire academic being. "That's… that's astronomically impossible! The statistical modeling alone to track chaotic metaphysical phenomena…!"
Bianca whistled, leaning in to peer at the hologram's base, as if looking for its power source. "Like, how…? The energy source, the tracking matrix… this is like, way beyond even Void Century tech I've seen scraps of."
Marya's lips quirked in a faint smirk. "It's a long story. But we're looking for specific ones." Her golden eyes began scanning the symbols, searching for particular shapes.
Jannali, squinting at a cluster of symbols near a skull-shaped landmass in the New World, pointed a finger. "Alright, mate. Looks like 'Frosty' is right where we heard—Hachinosu. That pirate's paradise. Right nasty place to go shoppin' for a fruity power-up."
Atlas, his lynx ears twitching, didn't look away from the map. His voice was a low rumble. "Where is that 'Nika fruit? Still on Zou?"
Galit, his fingers moving as if mentally calculating trajectories, shook his head slowly. "No. It appears… it's in Totto Land. The symbol is pulsing within the boundary of those candy-strewn seas."
Marya's head snapped around, her black hair whipping over her shoulder. "Big Mom's territory."
Galit met her gaze, his expression grim. "It appears so."
The group absorbed this, the weight of Yonko territory settling over them. It was then that Ember, drawn by the light, wandered closer. She'd been quiet on the periphery, but the swirling, beautiful hologram caught her lucid attention. She leaned in, her mismatched eyes reflecting the pulsing symbols. For a moment, she was just curious. Then her gaze locked onto a particular symbol—a small, stylized explosion—resting in a quadrant of the map that seemed to bleed red in her perception. Her breathing hitched. Her fingers began to tremble.
Aurélie noticed the shift immediately. In two strides, she was beside the younger woman, placing a firm, grounding hand on her shoulder. "Ember."
Ember looked up, her face pale in the hologram's glow. She offered a weak, fragile smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Try to stay with us," Aurélie said, her voice low and steady. "Here. Now. The moon. The water. My hand."
Ember took a shaky breath, nodded, and muttered, "Right. Here. Now." But her eyes darted back to the map, haunted.
Charlie, meanwhile, had thrown himself into a frantic orbit around the hologram, trying to view it from every angle, pulling a notebook from his cargo vest. "The linguistic coding on the symbols is pre-Poneglyphic ideograms! And the map projection! It's not Mercator, it's not conical, it's… it's based on thalassic energy fields! How are you able to parse this data? The variables are infinite!"
Galit, annoyed at the distraction, spoke without turning. "The land masses are constants. The currents are the variables. Once you recognize the primary flow patterns—the Great Gyre of the New World, the Twin Belts' stagnant pulse—the fruits become fixed points moving against the stream. It's not astronomy. It's hydrodynamics mixed with metaphysics." He tapped his own temple, then the volcanic glass slate at his hip. "You think in books. I think in currents."
As the two launched into a rapid-fire, intensely technical debate about cartographic paradigms, Marya's focused search ended. Her finger stabbed into the hologram, pointing at a symbol that glowed with a peculiar, cold white light. It was shaped like a stiped kitten. It was not in the New World. It was in the Paradise half of the Grand Line, on the periphery of a cluster of islands.
"Galit," she said, her voice cutting through his and Charlie's argument. "Am I seeing this right?"
Galit broke off and came to her side, following her pointing finger. He studied the symbol, its position, the faint, almost imperceptible trail of light behind it suggesting recent movement. His face grew serious. "The 'Tora Tora no Mi' fruit. The logs last placed it in Mary Geoise." He traced the faint trail with a finger. "It has moved. Recently. It's now here. Lagoonia Island."
Marya's gaze hardened. "We need to get there. Before…"
Galit finished the thought, his voice grim. "Before it's transported back to the holy land. Once it's behind the Red Line again, it's gone. Forever."
"Can you plot a course? A fast one?"
Galit was already mentally calculating, his eyes darting between the holographic currents and the position of their ship. "Of course. I'll work with Halia. We'll find the quickest route through the currents the Thalassa can handle."
Bianca piped up, wiping her hands on her overalls as if already feeling grease. "So, like, the solar sails are only gonna, like, give us a trickle charge. We need, like, a real power-up. So, like, when you're talking to Halia, ask if there are, like, any ancient facilities or, like, 'weird energy spots' on her old maps anywhere close to this Lagoonia place. If we're gonna, like, be in the neighborhood…"
Galit raised a brow. "You want to go relic-hunting while on a time-sensitive retrieval mission?"
Bianca put her hands on her hips. "If you, like, want this glorious heap to do more than, like, limp, you need to, like, make finding parts a priority! We can't, like, outrun a World Government courier ship on, like, hopes and solar smiles!"
Galit sighed, recognizing irrefutable engineering logic. "Understood. I'll see what the archives say."
Vesta, who had been quietly strumming Mikasi, trying to match a melody to the hologram's pulsating rhythm, looked up hopefully. "Any good concert locations on Lagoonia? A girl needs to plan her tour!"
Atlas, not looking away from the hypnotic map, gave a low chuckle. "Don't worry, songbird. You don't need a venue. You are the concert. Just start playing."
Vesta struck a dramatic pose, her rainbow hair shimmering. "Words of a true fan! But what of the others? My public needs me!"
Eliane, still holding onto the flapping, giggling Jelly, was now being gently dragged sideways across the deck. "Vesta, we'll help you find a public!" she called out, laughing as her boots scuffed the metal.
Jannali glanced over, a grin on her face. "Don't go flying off with the jelly-kite, little chef! We need those taste buds in working order!"
Marya let the chaotic, hopeful energy swirl around her for a moment longer before she clapped her hands once, the sound sharp and clear. "Galit. Jannali. Status on the other fruits we're tracking?"
Both scanned the hologram again. Jannali spoke first. "Hebi Hebi no Mi, Model: Bhūta Kāla is still Wano. No change."
Galit confirmed. "Wani Wani no Mi, Model: Ginga and Tori Tori no Mi, Model: Kuntur fruit remains dormant. Signals are faint, but haven't moved."
Marya nodded. "Okay then. Lagoonia it is. One stop. In and out." Her tone brooked no argument.
Aurélie stepped closer, her gaze locked on Marya. "These fruits you seek. They are not random."
Charlie, having finally connected the dots, snapped his fingers so loudly it echoed. "Of course! The Gate of Lethe! The legends speak of guardians! You're not just collecting power; you're assembling a… a metaphysical lock-picking set!"
Marya nodded, her smirk returning. "Something like that."
Aurélie's expression was deeply troubled. "Marya, that device," she said, pointing at the bucket, "and this quest… it paints a target on us that makes the World Government's attention look like a mild irritation. The Celestial Dragons would burn oceans to possess such knowledge."
Marya's gaze met Aurélie's, and for a second, the stoic mask slipped, revealing the granite resolve beneath. "I am aware of the dangers. And the concerns." Her eyes flicked to Ember, who was watching the red quadrant of the map with a distant, pained expression. "Regardless. This is the path. This is the way."
With that, she reached into the bucket of now-calm water and retrieved the Tideglass. The crystal' glow faded. The intricate, moonlit hologram of the world's most dangerous secrets dissolved into wisps of silver mist that were carried away on the salt breeze, leaving only the real moon and stars above.
"Let's go talk to Halia," Marya said, turning on her heel, her boots ringing on the ancient deck as she led them back inside the resurrected legend, its new course glowing like a fateful star in the deep ocean of the night.
-----
The command deck of the Dreadnought Thalassa was bathed in the soft, post-sunset glow of inactive consoles and the first brave stars pricking the velvet black of the sky through the massive viewport. The earlier excitement had settled into a focused, buzzing energy. Marya stood at the central pillar, her fingers resting on the cool crystal. "Halia," she called out, her voice clear in the spacious chamber.
From across the deck, Bianca, wiping her hands on a rag already stained with a dozen new substances, looked up at a different console. "And, like, Telchines too. We need to talk power."
The air above two primary control stations shimmered. Halia and Telchines coalesced into being, but something was wrong. Their forms, usually so solid and vivid, were transparent, their edges bleeding into static. Halia's graceful, aquatic light rippled like a disturbed pond. Telchines's sturdy amber glow sputtered, casting jagged shadows.
Bianca leaned in, her brow furrowed behind her magnifying goggles. "Whoa. What is, like, going on with your matrix? You guys look like a bad Den Den Mushi connection."
Telchines crossed his arms, the gesture flickering. "Your... creative adjustments to the primary power conduits have destabilized the harmonic flow to our projection cores," he grumbled, his voice layered with a faint echo. "We are operating on minimal sustainment. Think of us as a fading echo."
Halia nodded, her expression serene but tinged with regret. "He is correct. We can function in a limited advisory capacity, but sustained operation or complex simulation requires repairs to the secondary energy grid. We must conserve what power we have."
Charlie, who had been huddled over a slate taking notes, bolted upright as if struck. "NO!" he blurted, rushing forward as if to physically hold the flickering light. "You can't just... fade! I have inquiries! Volumes of inquiries! The socio-political structure of Aethelred, the linguistic evolution of your command glyphs, the philosophical parameters of your intelligence—!"
Bianca rolled her eyes, planting a hand on his chest to stop his advance. "Like, chill, Professor. We'll, like, fix them. But we need to be, like, smart with power. Can't, like, have the ghosts in the machine taking all the juice, you know?"
Galit, studying his own slate with its glowing current maps, cut through the drama. "Halia, we require navigation data." He turned his slate, showing the pulsating coordinates of Lagoonia Island. "Are there any facilities in your historical records—repair depots, resource outposts—anywhere near this location? Anything that could assist us?"
Halia floated closer, her flickering form bending over the slate. "Processing... affirmative." With a wave of her hand, the main viewport activated. The starfield was replaced by a detailed, archaic map of the Grand Line's Paradise half. Two points pulsed with a soft, golden light. "The primary site is Gora-Gora Island. It houses 'Sector Zero,' a maintenance and deep-research annex. Within its registry is listed one prototype vessel: The Abyssal Glider, Model 0."
Galit and Bianca leaned in simultaneously, their faces illuminated by the map. Bianca opened her mouth, a torrent of technical questions about reactor compatibility and hull alloys clearly forming.
But before a single "like" could escape, both holograms dissolved into a storm of shimmering pixels. Their voices became distant, overlapping whispers.
"We must... go offline... for preservation..." Halia's melodic tone fractured.
"Fix the... flux inverters..." Telchines's voice grumbled into nothingness.
Then, they were gone. The consoles they hovered over returned to a dormant state.
Bianca nodded, pragmatic. "Like, cool. We'll fix it. Priority one."
Charlie stood frozen, his lower lip beginning to quiver. His eyes were huge behind his glasses. "Bianca...!" he whispered, the name a heartbroken lament.
Bianca rolled her eyes so hard it seemed they might stick. "Like, really? Relax!" She walked past him, flicking her wrist dismissively.
With a dramatic, mournful gasp, Charlie fell to his knees on the deck, clutching his chest. "But this is... the find of the century! A direct line to a pre-Void Century cognitive archive! It's like silencing the last living historian of Ohara!"
Bianca didn't break stride. "Like yeah, like whatever. Find of the century, I like get it. Now get up, you're gonna short-circuit something with your tears."
Atlas, who had been leaning against a console with his arms crossed, let out a low chuckle. The medical bays had done their work; he moved with his old lynx-like ease, though a new scar marked his cheek. "So, what's the plan, boss?" he asked, his blue eyes fixed on Marya.
Marya's gaze swept the room, assessing her pieces on the board. Her eyes found Eliane and Jelly near the rear entrance. Eliane was laughing, darting back and forth as Jelly, having shaped himself into a large, bouncy ball, tried to tag her, leaving faint, glittery smudges on the deck with each hop. "Eliane," Marya said.
The young chef froze mid-dodge, snapping to attention. "Yes?"
"What do our supplies look like? A real inventory."
Eliane crossed her arms, holding her chin in a perfect imitation of a master chef deep in thought. "Well, we were good for our small crew. But with this many people?" She gestured around the command deck. "We're going to need to stock up, and soon. The food synthesizers on this thing are awful—tastes like salty chalk. But the actual kitchen? The ovens, the cold storage? It's more than adequate. It's beautiful. We just need real food to put in it."
Marya gave a single, sharp nod. "I think we need to split up."
Aurélie, who had been observing silently, her lips pressed into a thin line, finally spoke. "Is that wise? Our strength lies in our cohesion."
Marya shrugged, the movement casual but her eyes calculating. "Have no idea if it's wise. But it will be faster. More efficient." She looked at Bianca. "You need to repair the ship. We need to retrieve the Tora Tora no Mi."
Bianca chewed her lip, thinking. "I can, like, retrofit one of the subs. Strip it down, so we can, like, have like one working sub. You can use it to like, get to Lagoonia. But, like, no puddle-jumping. No fancy stuff. It'll be a slow boat, not a sky-skipper."
"That will work," Marya confirmed. "We rendezvous after we secure the fruit."
Aurélie took a step forward, her posture straight. "And what if the current wielder of this Devil Fruit does not wish to cooperate? These 'Guardian' powers are unlikely to be held by someone without will."
Marya cut her eyes toward Aurélie, a cold, knowing glint in her golden irises. "I can be persuasive."
From behind her, Atlas and Jannali both snorted with amusement. Jannali gave a wry grin. "That's one word for it, mate."
Aurélie's brow raised, a silent challenge. "Your particular form of persuasion may cause complications we cannot afford. Noise attracts attention."
Before Marya could retort, Vesta struck a dramatic chord on Mikasi. The guitar seemed to sigh. She threw her free arm wide, rainbow hair swirling. "Adventure is calling!" she sang, her voice echoing in the chamber. "Hear its song! A duet with destiny!"
Jannali and Atlas jostled each other's shoulders, grinning. Galit pinched the bridge of his nose, a long-suffering smile on his face. Eliane simply clapped. Jelly, catching the mood, bounced high and chimed, "Adventure! Bloop!"
Only Ember, standing slightly apart, tilted her head in quiet confusion, watching the outburst.
Marya looked back at Aurélie and pointed a thumb over her shoulder at the vibrant, chaotic crew behind her. "See? Adventure calls." Her tone was dry, almost playful. "Who could refuse that?"
Charlie, still on his knees, scrambled to his feet in a panic. "FOCUS!" he squeaked, waving his arms. "The historical interfaces! We need to get them back online! The data degradation could be irreversible!"
Bianca let out a long-suffering groan. "Like, really? Whatever." She turned to the practical matters. "Okay, look. I can, like, take the Dreadnought Thalassa to Gora-Gora Island, to that 'Sector Zero.' Galit, you should come. Your head for currents and ancient layouts will keep me from, like, falling into a pit or something."
Galit nodded, a smirk touching his lips. "Glad to be of use as a living pit-detector."
Charlie, sniffling but determined, puffed out his chest. "I must accompany you! It is a matter of archaeological and historical necessity! A facility with a name like 'Sector Zero'? The findings could redefine our understanding of pre-Void Century engineering!"
Bianca rolled her eyes so hard she had to steady herself on a console. "Ugh. Fine. But, like, touch nothing. You, like, look with your eyes, not your hands."
Aurélie let out a soft sigh, the sound of someone accepting the inevitable. "I will go with them to the facility. An extra blade may be useful, and someone needs to ensure the scholar doesn't attempt to disassemble a support beam to 'study its grain.'"
Ember's voice, small and lucid, came from the corner. "Is it okay if... I...?"
Aurélie didn't even turn, giving a gentle nod. "I expected you would continue with us." A faint, grateful smile touched Ember's lips.
Marya processed it all swiftly. "Alright. Atlas, Jannali, Eliane, Jelly, Vesta—you're with me to Lagoonia. Jelly and I will locate the fruit's holder. The rest of you secure supplies. Food, medicine, anything that isn't bolted down and looks useful."
Jannali planted a fist on her hip, her expression turning skeptical. "And what if you need backup? What if this 'persuasion' goes pear-shaped?"
Marya shook her head once, a final gesture. "I won't."
Jannali scowled, a little insulted at the dismissal. Atlas leaned in, his voice a low, rumbling whisper only she could hear. "It'd be a nice change, wouldn't it? If for once, we got to rescue her?"
A flash of understanding crossed Jannali's face, followed by a wicked smirk. "Right you are, mate. Let her have her fun. We'll be ready."
"Galit," Marya said, "plot the courses."
As the crew broke into busy clusters, buzzing with new purpose, Aurélie moved past Marya. Without a word, she glanced toward a secluded corridor leading off the command deck. "Marya. A word."
Marya followed, her boots echoing softly on the smooth metal. The corridor was narrow, lit by the same gentle, sourceless light, feeling insulated from the chatter behind them. Aurélie turned, her silver hair like mercury in the gloom, and looked Marya directly in the eye.
"I must make contact with the Consortium," she stated, her voice devoid of its usual dry humor. "I must update them on our status, our location, and our... revised objectives."
Marya leaned against the wall, crossing her arms over her Heart Pirates jacket. The leather creaked softly. "I expected as much. They are not oblivious to my actions. I suspect they may not approve of me turning their retrieval team into my support crew." She paused, her gaze unwavering. "But there is nothing to be done about it. I will continue to move forward."
Aurélie's face was grim, a mask of professional duty. "That is a firm stance. What if their orders are to stop you? To bring you in, by any means necessary?"
A slow, knowing smirk spread across Marya's lips. It wasn't arrogant; it was the look of someone who had already played out this game in her mind. "They won't."
"You are confident?"
"I am. You will be their spy, Aurélie, not their executioner. They want the knowledge I am uncovering—the Gate, the fruits, the history. I am more valuable to them on the move, actively piecing it together, than I am subdued and silent in some cell. I am a brush painting on a canvas they desperately want to see."
Aurélie's eyes narrowed, analyzing Marya as if she were a complex text. The silence between them stretched, filled with the hum of the ship and the unspoken history of their fractured friendship. "We shall see about that," Aurélie finally said, her voice a low promise.
Marya pushed off the wall, the smirk still in place. "We shall," she agreed. She turned and walked back toward the lit command deck, leaving Aurélie alone in the dim corridor, the weight of her dual loyalties hanging heavy in the air. The course was set, the teams were divided, and the ancient ship, named for the primordial sea goddess Thalassa, carried them all toward separate destinies on the moonlit waves.
If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider giving Dracule Marya Zaleska a Power Stone! It helps the novel climb the rankings and get more eyes on our story!
Thank you for sailing with us! 🏴☠️ Your support means so much!
Want to see the Dreadnought Thalassa blueprints? Or unlock the true power of Goddess Achlys?
Join the Dracule Marya Zaleska crew on Patreon to get exclusive concept art, deep-dive lore notes, and access to our private Discord community! You make the New World adventure possible.
Become a Crewmate and Unlock the Lore:
https://patreon.com/An1m3N3rd?utm_medium=unknown&utm_source=join_link&utm_campaign=creatorshare_creator&utm_content=copyLink
Thanks so much for your support and loving this story as much as I do!