The rest of the journey was heavy, a silent weight of reminder to everyone of their earlier encounter. The ship's engine bubbled yet no sound was apparent as propellers worked beneath.
At this time, Kaizen had already recovered. He had changed into a long dark trench coat, wearing nothing beneath it, revealing his thick and broad chest and shredded abs.
He adorned thick military pants along with a pair of dark military boots. Currently he was stationed at the figurehead of the ship.
Standing there, overlooking the vast blackened ocean in all its stillness, vivid flashes of the Hydra appeared within his mind.
His eyes narrowed, his body still on high alert for any other surprises. They were close to the edge, a lot closer than they had imagined. Seeing that there was nothing in the area that presented any threats, Kaizen released a thin breath.
Finally, they reached the other side, meeting the thick fog that encircled them.
Kaizen's Conqueror's Haki drew out wrapping around his fist as it lifted. Then, in succession it was coated in Armament Haki, swelling with brutality.
He threw forth a casual punch and—the fog tore.
The thick fog parted ways, granting them a clear path towards Stillreach. As they ventured through it, shadows of twisted creatures and the voices of many kinds of different eras made itself known.
The CP units looked around in caution, a quiet anxiety gripping their hearts.
As for Kaizen, he took it in. All of it. He came to a conclusion. Something opened on this planet the day this scar was made. As for what it was? Kaizen could care less at the moment. His instincts told him that it was not his place yet, so he withheld.
Approaching an end point, glimpses of the blue sky could be seen. Though, it appeared weird. Breaking into the zone known as Stillreach, sound came back to life—though, delayed.
Everyone glanced up, eyes glued to the sky. It wasn't like the Margin, it was far scarier. The sky, although blue, was filled with shining stars so bright they illuminated like secondary suns. Their hues remain static.
It was an unimaginable scene, one truly befitting of the title—"MYTH".
To the far distance, an island was spotted by one of the Cipher Pol members. They notified those below as Kaizen ordered them to guide the ship's course towards it.
Seconds blurred—time faltered no longer keeping up with them. Aside from the unnatural sky, calm sea—Stillreach remained unchanged. Until—they observed closer towards their looming destination.
The closer they drew towards it, the more wrong the island felt.
It was not large—no grand mass rising from the sea like the islands Kaizen had seen before. Instead, it sat low, almost hesitant, as if the ocean itself was unsure whether it should be allowed to exist.
Its shoreline was smooth, unnaturally so, lacking the jagged defiance of rock or the welcoming curve of sand. It looked… edited. As though something had gone back and erased the excess.
The sea around it did not lap or churn. There were no waves breaking against the shore. The water simply met land and stopped.
The ship slowed without command.
Not because the engine failed—but because momentum itself seemed to lose interest.
Kaizen noticed it immediately.
His brow furrowed as he felt the subtle resistance beneath his boots. It wasn't physical drag. It was closer to reluctance, as if the world itself questioned why they were still moving forward.
"Report," he said calmly.
The word reached the deck a heartbeat late. The sound lagged behind his lips, delayed just enough to be unsettling.
One of the CP operatives stiffened. "…Speed's dropping. Engine's fine."
Another swallowed. "Current's dead. No wind. No pull."
Kaizen nodded once, his gaze fixed ahead.
The island loomed closer, its silhouette sharpening—and then blurring—then sharpening again, like reality struggling to agree on its outline.
As they crossed an invisible threshold, Kaizen felt it. Not pressure nor was it killing intent. A thinning, that was what he felt.
The sensation was subtle, like standing too long in cold water. Not painful. Just… diminishing. His breath came out slower than before, frost curling in the air despite the blazing sky overhead. Snow began to fall, melting before it could touch the deck.
He flexed his fingers. They moved, strong and responsive.
Yet the certainty behind the movement felt dulled.
Kaizen's jaw tightened. Realization finally stepping in. His previous outlook changed immediately.
"So this is it," he murmured.
Stillreach.
The ship finally came to a full stop several meters from the shore. No anchor was dropped. None was needed. The sea held them in place, flat and obedient.
The CP units moved with discipline, but Kaizen could feel it—the slight hesitation in their steps, the way their eyes lingered too long on nothing at all. Observation Haki flickered among them, probing, searching.
Finding nothing.
And that was what frightened them.
Kaizen stepped forward first, boots meeting land with a dull crunch that echoed a moment too late. He paused, testing his weight, his balance.
The ground was cold, solid. It was real.
But it didn't feel owned by the world.
He straightened, trench coat fluttering faintly despite the absence of wind. His presence alone seemed to distort the air around him—not violently, not yet, but with a quiet assertion that something dangerous had arrived.
Behind him, the CP agents followed.
The moment the last of them stepped onto the island, the sound of the sea vanished.
Not faded.
Vanished.
Silence fell like a curtain.
No waves. No wind. No distant creaks of the ship. Even their breathing seemed muted, as if the air swallowed sound before it could travel.
One agent flinched and instinctively cleared his throat.
The sound arrived a second later.
Kaizen did not turn. His eyes were fixed forward, scanning the island's interior.
The terrain was barren, but not lifeless. Pale stone stretched inward, broken by strange formations—pillars that bent at impossible angles, casting shadows that didn't align with the light above. Snow now rested atop them without melting, despite the warmth that should have existed beneath the star-filled sky.
Stars. Those damn stars.
Kaizen looked up again, glimpsing it twice.
They were wrong. So very wrong. There were too many. They were too close, maybe even too bright.
They didn't twinkle. They watched, shimmering brightly with a static hue. A faint pressure brushed against his senses at that moment—not hostile, not welcoming. But rather, evaluative.
Kaizen felt his spine straighten involuntarily. Though, his will did not flare. It did not need to.
Something deep within him stirred, a quiet instinct that whispered a warning: 'Do not assert dominance yet.'
He listened.
"Formation," he said, his voice sharp yet sound delayed.
As they moved inland, Kaizen became acutely aware of the erosion the books had warned about. It wasn't immediate. It wasn't dramatic.
It was insidious.
Thoughts that should have carried weight felt lighter. Emotions dulled at the edges. He reached inward, checking himself—not panicked, not alarmed, but methodical.
'I am Kaizen.'
The name grounded him.
'I have purpose.'
The world did not answer.
They advanced for several minutes—or perhaps longer. Time felt unreliable here, stretching and compressing without pattern. Footsteps echoed late. Shadows lagged behind their owners.
Then—
One of the CP agents stumbled.
Not from injury. Not from attack.
He simply… forgot to step.
Kaizen turned sharply.
The agent blinked, eyes unfocused. "I—" His voice came late, distorted. "I don't know what happened."
Kaizen's gaze sharpened. He stepped closer, presence pressing down just enough to matter.
"Your name," Kaizen ordered.
The agent hesitated.
Sweat beaded at his temple. "I—"
Kaizen felt it then.
The island wasn't attacking them.
It was unraveling them.
Slowly.
Selectively.
He straightened and spoke, voice steady, his will anchored. "Focus. Anchor yourselves. Purpose first. Fear later."
The words carried more than sound.
They carried intent.
For a brief moment, the air trembled—not violently, but in recognition. A faint crackle of invisible pressure rippled outward, instinctual Conqueror's Haki bleeding through without conscious command.
The CP agents gasped.
The agent who had stumbled steadied, eyes clearing.
Kaizen exhaled slowly.
'So it does respond. Interesting.'
Ahead, something waited.
Not a roar, not movement, just a presence.
Beneath his pupil-less eyes, something flickered, burning faintly, restrained but restless, as if recognizing something ancient—something unfinished.
He took another step forward.
Whatever artifact the Five Elders sought…It was close.
And Stillreach knew he had arrived. He could only hope that his team remained somewhat composed with the pressure that kept amplifying itself quietly. Their formation remained strong, Observation Haki working overtime as they sensed the dormant presence of what they sought.
Into the distance, where forestry was spotted, behind the curtains of thick, strange looking trees—a town stood erected. Kaizen narrowed his eyes, something stirring within him.
Something unsettling.
He breathed out, his body ready to respond silently to possible threats. He knew, shit was about to go south.