One piece: Without a system, I have to survive!

The ship lurched violently as the waves crashed against its hull. The storm roared around us, the wind howling like a living beast. The island loomed ahead, barely visible through the thick mist, its dark cliffs rising from the sea like jagged fangs.

My hands gripped the railing as the ship rocked again, nearly throwing me off balance.

"This is insane!" Shira shouted, struggling to keep her footing.

Smoker fought against the wheel, his jaw clenched.

"We don't have a choice! We're too close now—if we turn back, we'll be torn apart!"

The wind was unnatural. It wasn't just a storm—it was something else.

Something watching us.

Something waiting.

And I could feel it.

A strange pressure in my chest.

Like an invisible force pulling me forward.

I wasn't sure if it wanted me to come closer—

Or if it wanted me to drown.

Landfall

The moment we crossed into the mist, everything changed.

The roaring waves stopped.

The wind vanished.

The ship glided smoothly through the water, almost as if the storm had never existed.

I exchanged a look with Shira.

"This isn't normal," she muttered.

No, it wasn't.

Everything about this place felt wrong.

The air was too still.

The silence was too deep.

Even the waves barely made a sound against the rocky shore.

Then, the ship scraped against land.

We had arrived.

Smoker exhaled, stepping away from the wheel.

"We're here," he said grimly.

The mist curled around us, swirling like ghostly tendrils. The island stretched before us, covered in dense, twisted jungle.

I took a hesitant step forward, my boots sinking into the damp sand.

And the moment I set foot on the island—

I felt it.

A whisper.

Soft.

Faint.

But undeniably real.

It wasn't a voice.

It was a memory.

A sensation deep in my bones.

I had been here before.

But I didn't know when.

Or why.

The Markings in the Stone

As we moved deeper into the jungle, something etched into the rocks caught my eye.

Strange symbols, carved into the stone walls of a crumbling ruin.

Familiar.

Yet foreign.

Shira frowned, tracing her fingers over one of the carvings.

"This language… it's old. Really old."

Smoker crossed his arms.

"I've seen similar markings in forbidden records back at Marine HQ." His expression darkened. "The kind of records that get people erased for reading them."

A chill ran down my spine.

Shira glanced at me.

"You okay?"

I opened my mouth to answer—

But before I could speak, the whispers grew louder.

Not just in my head—

All around us.

Rustling leaves.

The creak of shifting stone.

The sensation of being watched.

And then—

From deep within the ruins—

Something moved.