Law, Marya, Jannali, Bō-Zak, Kaburo, and Atlas stand in the heart of a blizzard that swallows everything. White dominates their vision—white sky, white ground, white air thick with swirling snowflakes that sting exposed skin like tiny needles. The wind howls with a voice that sounds almost intelligent, almost mocking.
Massive, fast-moving shapes circle them in the gloom. Indistinct. Watching.
Jannali hugs herself, her arms wrapped tight around her torso, trying to conserve what little heat her body still holds. Her breath plumes in front of her face, each exhalation a small cloud that the wind tears away instantly. "Well, this is a bloody nightmare," she yells over the gale.
An audible crack splits the air. A sound like a tree branch snapping, but deeper. More final. The ice beneath their feet begins to splinter, thin fractures spiderwebbing outward from a central point.
Bō-Zak's teeth chatter as he speaks, his pipe clamped between frozen lips. "I don't mean to add more problems to our situation, but it appears we're standing on ice. And it's about to break."
Law lifts his hand, fingers splayed. "Room!" Nothing happens. He tries again, his voice sharper. "ROOM!"
Marya looks at him, pulling her leather jacket tighter against the cold. The Heart Pirates insignia is crusted with frost. "What's the problem?"
Law shakes his head, his jaw tight. "My Devil Fruit power. It's not working."
Atlas's nub lashes, his rust-red fur fluffed against the biting wind. "Well, this day just keeps getting better and better."
Marya nods, her golden-ringed eyes narrowing. "Let me try." She reaches for her power, for the familiar sensation of dissolving into mist, of becoming something intangible and untouchable. Nothing. She tries again. Still nothing. "Nothing!" she admits, the word bitter on her tongue.
Kaburo's hand grips Kalamaru's hilt, his voice carrying across the wind. "It's the same for me! The blade—it won't transform!"
Bō-Zak yells, his voice strained. "Looks like the condor is grounded too! No soul ferry, no gravity tricks. We're running on empty."
Jannali curses, her voice cutting through the howling wind. "Bloody hell! We better get moving then!"
Atlas points into the swirling white, his arm extended. "What is that?"
Bō-Zak squints through the snow. "What is what? Oh, you mean those giant ominous shapes that are circling us?"
Atlas nods, his eyes fixed on the dark silhouettes. "Yeah. Those things."
---
Marya's hand flies to her chest. A sharp, stabbing pain—like ice, but wrong. Like something inside her is trying to claw its way out. She falls to one knee, her breath catching in her throat.
Law yells, "Marya!" and rushes to her side. Atlas is there in the next breath, his spotted fur brushing against her shoulder.
"Boss!"
Marya coughs, and specks of crimson spatter against the pristine white snow. She wipes her nose with the back of her hand and comes away red. The blood looks black against her pale skin.
Law grabs her arm, trying to help her stand. His eyes find the blood smeared across her face, then drop to her hands. The black veins—the mark of Igutoshi's curse—pulse beneath her skin. They're spreading. Growing darker. More pronounced.
Marya swallows, attempting a grin that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Kinda brings back memories, doesn't it?"
Law snaps, "This isn't a time for jokes!"
Atlas reaches them, followed by Jannali, Bō-Zak, and Kaburo. They form a loose circle around her, their bodies blocking the worst of the wind.
Jannali's voice is tight. "Bloody hell."
Atlas's blue eyes are fixed on the spreading veins. "What is going on?"
Marya's voice is steadier than she feels. "Igutoshi."
Atlas blinks. "Igu-what?"
Law's voice is flat, controlled. "It's the entity inside her. Without my power, there's nothing keeping it contained."
Bō-Zak nods slowly, his gold-flecked eyes understanding. "Oh. So that's how you two know each other."
Kaburo's voice is cold and practical. "So how much time do we have?"
Marya steadies herself, pushing upright. Her legs wobble, but she forces them to hold. "It took a few days before my path crossed Law's." She shrugs, trying for nonchalance. "Back then, anyway."
Kaburo's eyes are flat. "And now?"
Marya glances at the black veins crawling up her arm. "At least a day. Maybe less."
Law nods, his decision made. "Then we better get moving!"
Marya straightens fully, reaching up to unsheathe Nisshoku. The obsidian slicing through the snow flakes, its crimson runes pulsing weakly—a ghost of their usual fire.
Bō-Zak pulls his dual sickles from his belt, their blades gleaming. "Looks like we're doing this the old-fashioned way."
The ground beneath them cracks again, more violently this time. Water seeps up through the fissures, black and freezing.
Law yells, "Let's move!"
The group takes off running, boots and bare feet pounding against the fractured ice. Behind them, the shelf splinters and collapses into the dark water.
---
The massive dark entities close in behind them, their shapes beginning to resolve from the swirling snow. They're fast—terrifyingly fast—and they move with a coordinated intelligence that speaks of predators who have hunted together for centuries.
Jannali looks over her shoulder as the silhouettes reveal themselves.
They're Qiqirn.
The creatures stand nearly three meters at the shoulder, their bodies covered in coarse, matted fur the color of frost-bitten earth. Their heads are wolf-like but wrong—too broad, too flat, with eyes that glow like dying embers. Their mouths hang open in permanent grins, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth that seem to grow in spiraling patterns. Their legs end in massive paws with claws that scrape against the ice like stone on stone. Most unsettling of all is their tails—long, whip-like appendages that end in clusters of barbed quills that rattle with each movement, a sound like dried bones clicking together.
Jannali yells, "What the bloody hell is that supposed to be?"
Law's voice is strained. "It doesn't matter! Just keep moving!"
Bō-Zak's breath plumes as he runs. "Does anyone know where we're going?"
Before anyone can reply, Atlas announces, "I have an idea!"
Law yells back, "What is it?"
But Atlas is already in motion. His body twists, his fur rippling, and then—
The transformation hits him like a thunderbolt.
His rust-red fur bleaches to pure white, his frame expanding, muscles swelling. His eyes ignite with blood-red fire, and his canines elongate into fangs. Electricity crackles across his skin, blue-white and hungry.
Law curses, a sharp, frustrated sound. "Atlas!"
But the Mink is already gone, a white blur streaking toward the approaching pack. He slams into the nearest Qiqirn with the force of a cannonball, his claws raking across its chest. The creature yelps—a sound like a broken whistle—and staggers sideways, crashing into two of its companions.
Atlas moves through them like a storm given form. His claws tear through fur and flesh. His fangs find throats. His body twists and weaves between their attacks, too fast for them to track, too fierce for them to match. He grabs one by the scruff of its neck and hurls it into another, sending them both tumbling across the ice in a tangle of limbs and snow.
The Qiqirn shake their heads, stunned by the sudden assault. Their ember-eyes track the white blur, shifting their attention from the fleeing group to the creature that dares to fight them.
Jannali yells, still running, "What the bloody hell is he doing?"
Law's voice carries back, sharp and commanding. "Distracting them so we can get away! Keep moving!"
Marya follows for a few more strides, then stops dead. Her frustration boils over.
"This is ridiculous!" Her voice cuts through the wind. "I'm not running!"
She spins, planting her feet, raising Nisshoku high. The obsidian blade drinks the weak light as she swings, sending a devastating arc of Haki rippling outward. The invisible force slams into the Qiqirn pack, sending the nearest creatures sprawling, their ember-eyes blinking in confusion.
But the effort costs her. Marya buckles, coughing, blood flecking her lips. The snow around them suddenly clears, the swirling white parting like a curtain to reveal—
They're surrounded.
The Qiqirn have them herded, encircling the group in a tightening ring. Law, Marya, Jannali, Bō-Zak, Kaburo, and Atlas are back-to-back, the creatures closing in from all sides.
Law curses, his voice sharp with realization. "This was a trap!"
Bō-Zak's teeth are chattering, but his grin is fierce. "Looks like we only have a single option left to us."
Kaburo nods, tightening his grip on Kalamaru's hilt. The blade gleams against the white. "No point in waiting."
Jannali yells, her spear extending with a metallic shing, "Bloody hell!"
Law's voice rings out. "GO!"
They charge.
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