The first thing Kael noticed about consciousness was the smell of sawdust and sea salt.
He lay on a narrow cot in what appeared to be a workshop, surrounded by the organized chaos of a master craftsman's domain. Wood shavings carpeted the floor, and the walls were lined with tools he didn't recognize – some clearly for shipbuilding, others seemingly designed for more delicate work. Sunlight streamed through salt-stained windows, casting geometric shadows across workbenches covered in half-finished projects.
"Ah, you're awake!" The voice belonged to a stocky man in his forties, his arms thick with muscle from years of heavy labor. He set down what looked like a miniature ship's mast and wiped his hands on a leather apron. "I was beginning to worry we'd pulled another corpse from the sea."
Kael tried to sit up and immediately regretted it. His body felt like it had been put through a meat grinder, despite the strange restoration he'd experienced underwater. The system's intervention had saved his life, but apparently hadn't erased all traces of his ordeal.
"Easy there," the man said, placing a gentle but firm hand on Kael's shoulder. "You've been out for two days. Take it slow."
"Two days?" Kael's voice came out as a rasp. His throat felt like parchment.
"Here." The shipwright – for that's clearly what he was – handed him a cup of fresh water. "Drink slowly. Your body's been through hell."
The water was the most delicious thing Kael had ever tasted. He forced himself to sip rather than gulp, though every instinct screamed at him to drain the cup immediately.
"Where am I?" he managed after emptying half the cup.
"Water 7. My workshop, specifically. Name's Paulie – I work with Galley-La Company." The man studied Kael with shrewd eyes. "Found you floating about three kilometers out, clinging to what looked like a piece of Marine vessel. You want to tell me what happened?"
The memories came flooding back – the storm, the wreck, his crew disappearing beneath the waves. And underneath it all, the strange encounter with the system that called itself WNS. Kael's hand instinctively went to his chest, where he could still feel a faint warmth that hadn't been there before his near-death experience.
"Storm caught us," he said carefully. "Our ship – the Meridian's Pride – broke up on some rocks. I was the only survivor, as far as I know."
Paulie's expression softened. "Marine vessel, then? We wondered. You were wearing regulation pants when we fished you out, though your shirt was long gone." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Any chance there might be other survivors?"
Kael closed his eyes, seeing again the faces of his lost crewmates. "No. The ship went down fast, and the storm was..." He struggled to find words that wouldn't sound insane. "It was unlike anything I'd ever seen. Unnatural, almost."
"Hmm." Paulie scratched his chin thoughtfully. "We get strange weather patterns here sometimes. The Grand Line's full of surprises. But you're lucky to be alive, whatever happened out there."
Lucky. If only he knew.
As if summoned by his thoughts, Kael became aware of a subtle presence at the edge of his consciousness. Not intrusive, but available – like a tool waiting to be picked up. The system was still there, integrated into his mind so seamlessly that he might have dismissed it as imagination if not for the very real memories of drowning and being saved.
"I should contact my superiors," Kael said, testing his legs by swinging them over the side of the cot. They held, though they felt shaky. "Let them know what happened to the ship."
"Already taken care of," Paulie said. "We reported the wreck to the Marine base here as soon as we brought you in. They'll want to debrief you once you're feeling better."
A chill ran down Kael's spine. He'd been unconscious for two days while Marines investigated the wreck. What if they'd found something that contradicted his story? What if they suspected he was hiding something?
And what exactly am I hiding? he wondered. That I've been chosen by some ancient navigation system to save the world? They'd lock me in a padded cell.
"Don't look so worried," Paulie said, apparently misreading his expression. "Shipwrecks happen. No one's going to blame you for surviving when others didn't."
But Kael wasn't so sure. The Marine Corps had ways of finding inconsistencies in reports, and his story had a pretty significant gap. How exactly did he explain surviving in open ocean for what must have been nearly a day before being found?
"How did you find me?" he asked. "I mean, the ocean's pretty big. What were the odds?"
Paulie grinned. "That'd be young Iceburg's doing. Kid's got an intuition for these things that borders on supernatural. He was adjusting the patrol routes for our fishing boats and insisted we check an area that was completely out of the way. Said he had 'a feeling' something was out there."
Iceburg. Kael recognized the name – Tom's student, the one who'd eventually take over the shipwright's business. But supernatural intuition? Or had the system somehow influenced the boy's decisions to ensure Kael would be found?
THE SYSTEM DOES NOT ACTIVELY MANIPULATE INDIVIDUALS, came a voice in his head – so quiet he almost missed it. HOWEVER, IT CAN INFLUENCE PROBABILITY FIELDS TO A LIMITED DEGREE WHEN A NAVIGATOR'S SURVIVAL IS AT STAKE.
So the system had saved him twice – once from drowning, and once from dying alone in the middle of the ocean. The thought was both comforting and terrifying. What kind of power was he carrying around inside his head?
"Is Iceburg here?" Kael asked. "I'd like to thank him."
"He's at the main yards today, but I'll let him know you're awake. Meanwhile, you should rest some more. You look like death warmed over, and that's an improvement from when we found you."
Paulie moved to leave, then paused at the workshop door. "Oh, and we managed to salvage some of your gear. What was left of it, anyway." He pointed to a small pile of items on a nearby workbench. "Might be something useful there."
After Paulie left, Kael made his way unsteadily to the workbench. His belongings were pitifully few – his waterlogged Marine ID, a few coins that had somehow stayed in his pockets, and what looked like fragments of his compass. The instrument had been smashed beyond repair, its metal casing cracked and its needle missing entirely.
He picked up the largest piece, running his thumb over the familiar engravings. This compass had been a gift from his mentor at Marineford, passed down through three generations of Marine navigators. Seeing it destroyed felt like losing a piece of his identity.
SUCH TOOLS ARE NO LONGER NECESSARY, the system's voice whispered. THOUGH I UNDERSTAND THE SENTIMENTAL VALUE.
"Easy for you to say," Kael muttered under his breath. "It's not your family heirloom."
FOCUS YOUR INTENT ON CREATING A MAP OF THIS ROOM. VISUALIZE THE PROCESS AS YOU WOULD WITH TRADITIONAL TOOLS.
Curious despite his melancholy, Kael closed his eyes and tried to do as the system suggested. Immediately, his mind filled with precise measurements – not just of the room's dimensions, but of everything in it. The exact height of each workbench. The angle of sunlight through the windows. The direction and distance to true north.
When he opened his eyes, he could see the information overlaid on his vision like a translucent display. If he'd had paper and ink, he could have drawn a map of the workshop accurate to the centimeter without taking a single measurement.
"Incredible," he breathed.
THIS IS MERELY THE BASIC FUNCTION. AS YOUR ABILITIES DEVELOP, YOU WILL BE ABLE TO MAP ENTIRE ISLANDS SIMPLY BY WALKING THEIR COASTLINES.
The implications were staggering. With abilities like this, he could chart previously unknown territories, find safe passage through the most dangerous waters, locate hidden treasures that had been lost for centuries. No wonder the system had remained hidden for so long – knowledge like this would be worth killing for.
A knock at the workshop door interrupted his thoughts. "Come in," he called, quickly dismissing the overlay from his vision.
The door opened to reveal a young man with blue hair and serious eyes. He was probably around twenty, with the build of someone who'd spent his life working with his hands. Everything about him spoke of precision and attention to detail.
"You're the survivor," the young man said. It wasn't a question. "I'm Iceburg."
"Kael." He extended his hand, which Iceburg shook with a firm grip. "I understand I have you to thank for my rescue."
Iceburg shrugged, but Kael could see he was pleased. "Just following a hunch. Are you feeling better?"
"Much, thanks to your people's care." Kael studied the young shipwright's face, looking for any sign that he might have been influenced by the system. But Iceburg just looked like a normal, if unusually gifted, young man. "Paulie mentioned you adjusted the patrol routes. What made you think to look in that area?"
"Honestly?" Iceburg ran a hand through his hair, looking slightly embarrassed. "I had a dream about it. Sounds crazy, I know, but I dreamed about someone floating in that exact spot. When I woke up, I couldn't shake the feeling that it was important."
A dream. Kael filed that information away for later consideration. The system had said it didn't manipulate people directly, but perhaps it could influence them in more subtle ways.
"Well, I'm grateful your hunches are so accurate," he said. "I don't suppose you've heard anything from the Marine investigation?"
Iceburg's expression grew more serious. "Actually, that's part of why I'm here. Lieutenant Commander Sterling wants to see you as soon as you're able to travel. He's got some questions about what happened out there."
Kael's stomach clenched. Sterling had a reputation as a thorough investigator – the kind of man who could spot inconsistencies from a mile away. If anyone was going to poke holes in his story, it would be him.
"How much did you tell them about my condition when you found me?" he asked carefully.
"Just the facts. You were unconscious, suffering from exposure and near-drowning. We brought you here instead of the Marine base because Paulie's workshop was closer, and you needed immediate medical attention."
"And they accepted that?"
Iceburg's eyes narrowed slightly. "Why wouldn't they? Is there something you're not telling us?"
Everything, Kael thought. I'm not telling you everything, and I probably never can.
"No," he said aloud. "Just... losing your entire crew weighs on you, you know? Makes you second-guess everything."
The young shipwright's expression softened. "I can imagine. For what it's worth, from what I've heard about that storm, it's a miracle anyone survived at all. The weather station recorded wind speeds that were off their instruments."
So the storm had been as unnatural as Kael remembered. That was both reassuring and worrying – reassuring because it meant he wasn't going crazy, worrying because it suggested someone with significant power had specifically targeted his ship.
"I should go see Sterling," Kael said, standing up with more confidence than he felt. "Get this debriefing over with."
"Are you sure you're up for it? You still look pretty rough."
"I'll manage." Kael gathered his few remaining possessions, pocketing the broken compass pieces. "Thank you again, Iceburg. For everything."
The young man nodded. "Just take care of yourself. And if you need anything while you're in Water 7, let us know. We look after our own around here."
Our own. The phrase stuck with Kael as he prepared to face Sterling's questions. He was no longer really a Marine, not with the system running through his thoughts and ancient purposes driving his actions. But he wasn't yet sure what he was becoming.
As he walked toward the door, the system's presence stirred in his mind.
BE CAREFUL WITH YOUR ANSWERS. THE WORLD GOVERNMENT HAS AGENTS TRAINED TO DETECT THOSE WITH UNUSUAL ABILITIES.
"Any advice?" he thought back.
STAY AS CLOSE TO THE TRUTH AS POSSIBLE. AND REMEMBER: YOU ARE NOT OBLIGATED TO REVEAL EVERYTHING YOU KNOW.
With that cryptic guidance, Kael stepped out into the bustling streets of Water 7, heading toward a confrontation that would determine whether he remained free to pursue his new purpose – or found himself locked away as a curiosity for government scientists to study.
Either way, his old life was over. The question now was what kind of new life he would be able to build from the ashes of the Meridian's Pride.