Winter Island.
Zino trudged through the snow-covered path, his breath forming white clouds in the frigid air. The island was eerily quiet, the only sound being the crunch of snow beneath his boots. His eyes scanned the terrain, sharp with worry. Where is everyone? he wondered.
Just then, a sudden shout cut through the silence.
"Hands up! Who are you two?!"
It was a gruff, commanding voice—clearly armed and suspicious.
"Hey! Stop pointing that gun at us!" came a familiar female voice, sharp and defiant.
"Mikita-nee, don't say that," another voice said gently, trying to calm her down.
Zino's heart skipped. He recognized those voices instantly. He bolted toward the direction of the voices, his coat billowing behind him. Cresting a small snowbank, he spotted them. Mikita, better known as Miss Valentine, standing with her right hand holding her spinning parasol and brows furrowed, and Kaya, looking nervous but composed.
They were surrounded by a small group of locals clad in thick fur coats and winter gear, all of them holding rifles or spears pointed directly at the two women.
"Kaya! Miss Valentine!" Zino called out, rushing down the slope. The two turned at once, and saw him hurrying towards them.
"Zino!" Kaya's eyes lit up in joy.
Miss Valentine didn't speak, but her shoulders relaxed slightly. A flicker of relief crossed her face before she looked away with her usual pout.
The armed group immediately shifted, some lowering their weapons slightly, unsure of what to make of the new arrival. The man in the lead, a fellow with broad shoulder, have a grizzled beard and a thick fur hat stepped forward, rifle still raised, though not aimed.
"Who are you?" he asked Zino cautiously. "Are you a pirate?"
Zino held up both hands in peace, giving a calm smile. "No, no. We're not here to cause trouble. We're just travelers. Our ship got caught in a strange storm, and we were scattered. I've been trying to regroup with my crew since we washed ashore."
"A storm?" The man frowned, glancing back at his comrades.
"Yes. It was unlike anything I have ever seen," Zino continued. "Winds with no direction, mist that felt alive, and then...we were swept by that thing. When I woke up, I was here—in the snow."
The armed group exchanged wary glances, lowering their weapons further.
"I see. That explains a lot," the bearded man finally said. "It's rare, but sometimes these strange seasonal storms sweep folks away. You're not the first. You're lucky you didn't freeze to death."
Zino gave a respectful nod. "Thank you. Do you mind telling us where exactly we are?"
"This place is called Winter Island." the man replied. "You're in the northern part of the Grand Line. The weather here is harsh. So, it's somewhat hard to survive, especially for outsiders."
"Winter Island…" Kaya repeated, her voice quiet, arms wrapped tightly around herself as the snowflakes danced in the air. Her breath fogged before her lips as she inched closer to Mikita for warmth.
Zino suddenly realized something out of his memory. Turning his eyes at the landscape, then glanced at the man leading the group. "Wait… is this the Drum Kingdom by any chance?"
The man looked surprised for a moment, then gave a curt nod. "You're right. This land *is* the Drum Kingdom. How do you know of it?"
Zino smiled faintly. "I once heard about a kingdom buried in snow from a traveler I met on the sea. He described a nation where snow never stops falling… and called it the Drum Kingdom."
The man studied him for a beat, then seemed satisfied with the answer. "I'm Dalton, Chief of Drum Island's militia. You've arrived at a bad time, though. There has been unrest in the kingdom."
Zino's eyes narrowed slightly but didn't press. Instead, he asked, "Have you seen anyone else wash up recently? We're still missing the rest of our crew."
Dalton shook his head. "No. You three are the only ones we've come across so far. If the rest of your people were caught in that storm, they may have ended up elsewhere along the coast—or worse."
Zino sighed, glancing at the snow-covered horizon. The cold wind cut through the fabric of his coat, and a glance to the side showed Kaya shivering visibly, her teeth chattering. Mikita stood stubbornly, trying not to show it, but her shoulders were trembling.
"Do you happen to have any spare coats or blankets?" Zino asked. "They're freezing."
Dalton glanced back, eyes softening just a little. "We only have enough for ourselves here… but come to the village. We can provide proper clothes and warmth there."
Zino hesitated, glancing back toward the snowy path they came from.
"I still want to look for my crew," he said firmly.
Dalton nodded, then turned to his men. "You two—head to the east shore. You three, sweep to the west. If you find anyone, signal with the flare."
The five militia men gave nods of acknowledgment before splitting off quickly into the snowstorm, disappearing behind veils of mist and snowfall.
Dalton turned back to Zino. "Let them handle it. You three should come with me. If you stay out here much longer, you'll freeze solid before you find anyone."
Zino looked at the two girls again. Kaya gave a nod, though her lips were tinged blue. Mikita merely muttered, "Tch. This is the worst weather ever."
"Alright," Zino agreed. "Lead the way."
They began walking toward the distant outline of a village, nestled against the foot of snow-capped cliffs. As they moved, the snowfall thickened, blanketing the world in quiet white. Zino kept a steady pace behind Dalton, while Kaya and Mikita huddled closer together.
"I'm Zino, by the way," the captain said casually as he walked alongside the militia leader. "Captain of the *Silent Orca*."
Dalton glanced at him briefly, giving a faint nod. "Strange name for a ship."
Zino grinned. "It suits us."
As they trudged forward through the thickening snow, Zino felt even colder, and subconsciously inhaled harder, catching a flurry of cold air and snow on his tongue.
[Detected that host has swallowed some elemental materials.]
[Identifying elements in progress...Identifying complete. Identified elemental materials:
1. Snow
2. Ice
3. Mist
Please select one element to integrate.]
Zino blinked. "Oh? Almost forgot about this."
Back on the Silent Orca, Zino had just maxed out his Smoke element to level 20, unlocking the ability to integrate a new elemental type. He had been waiting for a moment like this. The notification's timing, as always, was strangely convenient.
"Weird," Zino muttered under his breath. "Snow carries more than just Ice element?"
[Warning: Element choice pending. Please select one to integrate.]
"Yeah, yeah, keep your circuits on," Zino muttered, rolling his eyes. Without overthinking it, he selected Ice.
The change was immediate.
A strange, soothing chill coursed through his body, not painful or numbing—but empowering. The bitter cold that had been clinging to his skin a moment ago faded like a bad memory. Instead, the snow-covered world around him felt... comfortable. Inviting, even.
[Ice element acquired. Added to elemental archive.]
A small grin touched Zino's lips. He reached down, scooped up a handful of snow, and casually stuffed it into his mouth, chewing slowly. The icy crystals melted across his tongue, while an invisible bar in his mind ticked upward—small increments of progress being made with each bite.
"You're eating snow?" one of the militia men said, eyes wide in disbelief. "That's not dessert, you know."
"If you're hungry, just hold on a little longer," another added, shaking his head. "You'll get hot stew once we're in the village."
Zino waved them off with his free hand. "Don't worry. I'm not starving. I'm just… appreciating the local snow."
The men exchanged confused glances but gave up on convincing him. Let the strange traveler eat snow if he wanted to, it was none of their business. He will stop soon anyway, they thought.
Behind them, Kaya watched him nervously. "Zino…" she called, her voice uncertain.
Zino turned his head and gave her a reassuring wink. "It's the swallow-swallow thing."
Kaya's eyes widened slightly, then softened with understanding. She knew about his strange ability by now—how he consumed elements and turned them into strength. Still, watching him eat snow like it was candy left her uneasy.
Meanwhile, Mikita tilted her head, observing him with mild curiosity. She hadn't yet seen this side of Zino in action. The man really did have strange powers—and stranger habits.
"You sure he's not crazy?" one of the soldiers whispered to another.
"I've seen crazier," came the low reply.
Zino ignored them all. He scooped up another handful of snow, letting it melt in his hand first before licking the cold water from his palm. With each bit of Ice he consumed, he felt his body adjusting—internal temperature stabilizing, movement becoming lighter, and a faint shimmer of frost building beneath the surface of his skin.
Zino was exhilarated. Looking around, his eyes glimmering with desire as he saw the vast white snow on the island.
"This is a treasure trove!" Zino grinned. "Better not waste this chance."
With that, he continue to swallow more snow, earning him more weird glances.
...
Spring Island.
A group walked along the winding shoreline, their steps crunching against a carpet of soft petals. The ocean breeze carried a faint floral scent, and vibrant flowers bloomed endlessly across the rolling fields beyond. But despite the island's beauty, unease lingered among the travelers.
"You guys must be wondering what kind of island this is, right?" asked the man leading them.
He looked to be in his thirties, dressed in a patchwork of weather-worn clothes and walking barefoot like someone who'd long since grown used to the land. He carried himself with calm familiarity—like the island was an extension of him.
Zoro, Nami, and Binko nodded silently, eyes scanning the scenery.
The man smiled faintly. "This place is called Spring Island. It's what we call a seasonal island."
"A seasonal island?" Nami tilted her head. "You mean it cycles through all four seasons?"
"Nope," the man replied, shaking his head. "This island only has one season. Spring. All year round."
"Only spring season?" Zoro raised an eyebrow. "So… it never changes?"
"Exactly," the man confirmed. "Look around—flowers in bloom, warm sunlight, gentle winds. Every single day. No summer heat, no autumn chill, no winter snow. Just endless spring."
Binko's eyes widened in awe. "That's… incredible. You mean it's always like this?"
"Hard to believe, isn't it?" the man chuckled. "People used to call it paradise. At least, in the beginning."
Zoro stayed quiet, his hand resting loosely on the hilt of his sword. Beside him, Nami frowned, unease creeping into her features. Something about the man's tone didn't sit right.
"But if it's paradise," she asked carefully, "why do you sound… unhappy?"
The man's smile slowly faded. His steps slowed as he turned his gaze toward the distant sea, its shimmering horizon deceptively calm. For a long moment, he said nothing.
"This place looks beautiful," he finally said, voice low, "but it comes with a price."
The group came to a halt.
Binko's voice dropped, uncertain. "What kind of price?"
The man let out a long breath. His eyes, once warm, had grown distant. "Once someone arrives here… they can't leave."
Nami's breath hitched. "W–What? What are you talking about?"
Zoro's brow furrowed. His stance shifted, instinctively ready. "Explain."
The man turned fully to face them now. The warmth from earlier was gone—replaced by something cold and resigned.
"This island goes by another name." He said. "Everyone who entered this place regretted it, and if possible want to avoid coming. That's why... they always come to call it the same thing."
Silence.
Then, with quiet finality, he spoke:
"The Island of Despair."