A few days had passed since the Choosing Ritual, and life in the dryad village had slowly returned to a peaceful rhythm. The towering trees swayed gently in the breeze, sunlight filtering through their vast canopies like golden silk. Birds chirped softly above, and the scent of fresh leaves filled the air.
In a quiet clearing near the center of the village, a small crowd had gathered. A group of dryad children sat in a somewhat wobbly line, each clutching a piece of paper covered in colorful scribbles. Some drawings were elaborate, others barely recognizable, but all were made with the same excited purpose—to become something real.
At the front of this group sat a young man on a wooden stool, sleeves rolled up, hands busy manipulating his element. Wisps of white, fluffy cloud formed and swirled in front of him, gradually taking shape with every precise gesture.
The young man was none other than Zino.
"Is it my turn already?" one dryad boy asked, bouncing on his toes.
"Hey, I was next!" another dryad girl protested, elbowing him lightly.
"Stop pushing!" a third child scolded. "We already agreed—Zino-san said to line up. No cutting!"
Zino chuckled softly. "That's right. Everyone gets their turn, just be patient."
A moment later, he placed the finishing touches on the toy in front of him—a soft, chubby plushy with button-like eyes and leafy ears. It was made entirely from his cloud element, shaped with care and precision.
"Here you go," Zino said, handing it to the girl at the front.
Her face lit up. "Yay! My plushy is done! Thank you, elder brother!" She hugged the toy close and skipped off happily.
Zino smiled warmly. "Alright. Next."
A young boy stepped forward, practically shoving his drawing into Zino's hands. "Zino-nii, can you make this one for me?"
Zino looked at the sketch—and paused. "Uh… what is this exactly?"
The boy beamed. "It's Sun God Nika!"
Zino blinked, raising an eyebrow. The drawing was rough and wild, resembling something between a scribbled monkey and a thundercloud with limbs. It had none of the familiar smiling face or stretchy features of the legendary figure—but the boy's expression was pure joy.
"Alright," Zino said with a chuckle. "Let's make your Sun God come to life."
He focused, manipulating the clouds with his fingers. Slowly, the shape began to appear: a cloud-white figure with springy hair, exaggerated limbs, and a goofy grin. With a few more tweaks, Zino added a diamond cloud sword and shield—flourishes of his own design.
"It's done," he said, handing it over.
The boy's eyes sparkled. "Wooooow! This… this is Nika! The real Sun God!" He held the toy high above his head, showing it off proudly.
The other children gasped in awe, immediately jealous.
"Hey, Zino-nii! I want a Nika too!"
"Me too! Forget my drawing, I want that one!"
Several kids jumped up, waving their drawings in surrender and begging for their own Nika toy. It became chaos in an instant.
Zino raised one hand. "Okay, okay! One at a time! I'll make more, just don't trample each other."
The children laughed and backed down, but their excitement only grew as Zino went to work again. Cloud after cloud was shaped and sculpted, each one forming into a miniature Nika. Some stood with fists raised, others carried tiny weapons, and one even rode a cloud surfboard.
By the time the last child received their figurine, the line had finally dwindled. Laughter echoed across the village as the kids ran around, showing off their toys, battling invisible enemies, or reenacting tales they had heard of the Sun God.
Zino leaned back on his stool, arms crossed behind his head, watching them with a small, satisfied smile.
"Being Captain is nice," he murmured to himself. "But moments like this… they remind me why I sail in the first place."
Just then, from a big tree at the side, two dryads stepped forward together. They were twin dryad girls, no older than eight, each holding their own drawing with pride. Zino had already sensed them quite a while ago, peeking out of that tree. However, they didn't come out until the kids left Zino.
Without saying a word, they extended their crumpled papers to Zino.
Zino took them with a gentle smile, but when his eyes fell on the images, he paused.
"Er…" he blinked, trying to make sense of the wild lines and oddly shaped figures. If he had to rate the drawings from a professional standpoint, he would've had to call them total disasters. Lines crossed over each other, proportions were all wrong, and the coloring—if you could call it that—looked like a fight between paintbrushes and chaos.
But Zino would never say something like that to kids. He kept his smile intact.
"My drawing is of a Mother Root!" one of the girls beamed proudly. "Beautiful, isn't it?"
Zino looked between the mess of colors and the child's hopeful eyes. "It's… very beautiful," he said with a chuckle.
"How about this one?" he asked, turning to the second twin.
"Mine's a picture of you, nii-san," she said with a smile.
Zino blinked. "Me?"
"Yes!" she nodded eagerly. "I admire you. All the toys you made were cool, but the one who made them is the coolest. So… I want a toy of you, Zino-nii!"
For a moment, Zino was silent. He looked at the drawing again—it had his spiky hair, a vague smile, and what seemed to be a sword made of… potatoes? He couldn't tell. But it was oddly touching.
This one knows how to flatter, Zino thought, amused.
"Alright," he said warmly, "give me a moment."
He got to work again, molding the cloud element in his hands with precision and creativity. For the Mother Root toy, he used Cora's dryad form as the base—graceful, elegant, and surrounded by tiny leafy details. He gave it flowing hair and a miniature crown made from glittering cloud diamonds.
Next, he shaped the second toy—a chibi version of himself. It had spiky cloud-hair, a big grin, and held a tiny sword resembling Funkfreed on his hip. He even gave it a little cloak that fluttered when you shook it.
"Here you go," Zino said, handing the toys to the twins.
Their faces lit up with joy as they hugged the figurines close. "Thank you, nii-san!" they said in unison, then ran off to play with the others in the distance.
Zino sat back on his stool, watching them blend into the laughter and play of the other dryad children. A small smile played on his lips.
It had already been a few days since he arrived in the village, and in that time, he had spent hours experimenting and refining his Diamond Cloud element. Slowly but steadily, his mastery improved. Now, his ability had reached level 26.
He stood up, brushing off his pants.
"Guess it's time to start building the ship," he murmured.
From the shadows of a nearby tree, a figure stirred.
Crocodile, who had been meditating silently under the massive roots, opened his eyes and stood. He said nothing as he followed Zino, walking a few steps behind him.
Without turning, Zino spoke. "So, you awakened your Observation Haki?"
"I awakened it yesterday," Crocodile replied, his voice low and calm.
Zino gave a slight nod of approval. "Good. Are you confident now… to face any of the Yonko?"
Crocodile's steps slowed for a moment. He frowned slightly, then shook his head. "...Not yet."
Zino looked ahead, eyes calm but determined. "Then keep training."
There was a pause, then he added, "Soon, we'll move. And when we do, we're going after one of them."
Crocodile's eyes widened. "Seriously?"
"Soon," Zino said again, his voice steady.
With that, the two continued walking side by side, the warm forest winds brushing past them. Behind them, the laughter of children still echoed softly—innocent and unaware of the storm that would one day follow.
...
Somewhere near the towering Redline.
A sudden splash broke the sea surface as a ship shot up from below the waves, dripping water and seaweed as it stabilized. It was Billion Work, the first vessel ship of the Orca Pirates.
"Finally! We're out!" Usopp stretched, flopping onto the deck like he'd just returned from the dead. "Are we really in the New World?"
"We should be," Gin replied, brushing water off his jacket and checking the horizon. "The current fits."
Robin stepped forward, glancing calmly at the clouds above. "So this is the New World…"
Daz Bones who was near the hull looked at Robin. "You should contact the Captain. He needs to know we've made it here."
Robin gave a nod. She pulled out a Den Den Mushi from her satchel, its snail eyes slowly opening. With a few turns of the dial, the line connected.
"Hello, Zino here," came a familiar voice through the receiver. "Where are you guys?"
"We just surfaced here in the New World," Robin answered.
Zino's tone perked up. "You made it? That's great. We're currently on Arboria Island."
"Arboria?" Robin repeated. The rest of the crew exchanged glances.
Zoro scratched his head. "Where even is that?"
"Just wait there. I'll come get you," Zino said from the other side. "Do you have any coordinates or a landmark nearby?"
Robin glanced around, ocean stretching in every direction. Then, her eyes landed on the horizon, where the Red Line loomed like an impossible, distant wall of crimson rock. "I can see the Red Line in the distance."
There was a pause from the Den Den Mushi. "...Alright. Just wait. I'll find you guys."
The line disconnected.
"Will he really find us?" Mikita asked, floating lazily above the deck.
"Don't worry," Sanji said, leaning on the railing and lighting a cigarette. "Zino's fast. If anyone can track us down here, it's him."
With nothing else to do, they waited—adrift in the sea of the New World.
Meanwhile, back on Arboria Island…
Zino had just returned to the Orcas' temporary living quarters when the call ended. But instead of immediately departing, he took a short detour—heading toward Binko and Hibari's workspace. The two were knee-deep in sketches and drafts.
"So, how's it going?" Zino asked as he approached.
"Oh, Captain! You're back." Binko looked up, waving his pencil.
"We've drafted about twenty designs for the new warship," Hibari added. "Want to take a look?"
"Let's see them."
Hibari handed over a thick stack of drawings. Zino flipped through them, studying each design carefully.
The first one resembled the legendary Moby Dick, though slightly modified with Silent Orca's sleek, stealth-based interior. The hull was lined with wave-breaking edges and deep-sea channels.
The next design was more radical—a long serpentine vessel, its body coiling like a sea dragon. According to the notes, it would stretch longer than ten standard warships. Its color scheme was black and indigo, matching the tone of Silent Orca.
Another sketch caught his eye. This one was a submarine in the shape of a crocodile. It had four mechanical limbs for crawling onto shores, with a sturdy armored body and a powerful tail for propulsion underwater.
Crocodile, standing nearby, raised an eyebrow. "That one looks good."
Zino glanced at him. He didn't say anything at first, then looked back at the sketch.
On second thought… the design wasn't bad. Not at all. It was unconventional, certainly, but it had character—and function.
"Alright," Zino said. "We'll pick this crock-ship design."
"Ehh?!" the crew nearby blinked in disbelief.
"You're really going with that one?" Nami asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Why not?" Zino said with a grin. "It's unique. And if it turns out bad, we'll just build another."
That answer left the crew half-skeptical and half-impressed. With the decision made, Zino handed the sketches back and turned around.
"I'm heading out to fetch the others," he said. "Get everything ready. When I return, we start building."
After that, he walked off without waiting for a reply. The moment he stepped outside, his body shimmered and morphed into a bolt of lightning, flashing away in an instant.