Time passed, and Ray had already finished cleaning everything.
From Robin's spotless glass like room, where just a day's worn clothes were neatly laid out on the table for him to wash, to Jack and Rabbit's chaotic mess of a room—Rabbit being the lava-and-stone panda—which looked like it hadn't been cleaned in years. It was Ray's first time setting foot there, but he made sure not to touch anything he might regret.
Finally, he reached Sicilia's room—but it was locked. With nowhere else to go, he made his way back to the deck.
He sat quietly on the quarterdeck, gazing up at the floating island above. Then something fell from the island.
"Wait—did something just drop from up there?" he blurted, dashing toward the railing. Whatever it was landed not far from his ship. "Was that… a person?" he murmured.
"Hello!" Ray called out, peering toward the water. There was no movement. "No way... Did he die?" His eyes darted around, looking for anything—anything—that could help.
After a frantic search, he spotted the small boat. He hurried to lower it into the sea, holding the rope tight. Ray secured one end of a long rope to the boat and the other to the ship's railing, double-checking the knot before rowing out toward the splash.
"Hey! Anyone out there?" he shouted, voice straining with urgency. "Can you hear me?! Damn it—say something!" He struggled to guide the boat, but it barely went the right direction—it was his first time rowing.
"At least move a little!" he shouted, frustrated more with himself than anything.
Eventually, he got close enough to spot a white coat floating on the water. His heart sank. "That's… the old man's coat."
Ray wrapped a rope around his waist and tossed the loose end into the sea. "Hey! Old man! Are you alive?! Can you hear me?! Grab the rope, I'll pull you in!"
He leaned over the boat, desperately searching for signs of life—but the water remained still.
A cold weight settled in his chest. Bracing himself, he leaned down and dunked his face into the water—but the moment he did, he couldn't keep his eyes open. Salt water rushed in, choking him. He shot back up, gasping.
"Okay... calm down," he whispered, then forced his face under again, fighting the sting as he tried to see.
Through the blur, just two arm lengths away, he saw a faint figure. He reached one arm into the water, eyes watering, lungs burning.
Then—suddenly—the figure's eyes snapped open.
Ray panicked. He tried to jerk back, but the figure grabbed his arm and yanked him in.
He plunged into the sea, just inches from the boat, before the figure vanished. Ray flailed wildly, lungs already empty. He grabbed for the rope at his waist—but it had slipped free. The other end was already lost beneath the water.
He tried to scream, but only seawater rushed in. He clutched his face, trying to keep the water out. His limbs grew heavier. The boat drifted away, and the ocean stretched endlessly below.
A hot tear slid across his cheek.
His hands slackened.
His eyes shut.
"ARRRHHH!"
Ray jolted upright, gasping, choking, dragging shaky hands down his soaked face as he clung to each breath. Then he felt a gentle hand on his head.
"Activate Whispers of Mend," a familiar voice said.
The storm in his chest eased.
"You alright, kid?" Sicilia asked softly, withdrawing her hand.
Ray clenched his fists in the sheets above him, chest rising and falling.
"What were you doing on the boat?" Robin's voice came—calm but edged with suspicion. He stood near the bed, arms crossed.
"H-How... how did you find me?" Ray asked, his heart still pounding wildly.
'I was drowning. I know I was. Till the platform would have gone up and down, I would have been already dead, there's no way they would have found me on time. I was way too far down… Unless they can bring back the dead...'
Robin's eyes narrowed. "We found you asleep in the boat. But judging by the way you woke up? You weren't sleeping. You looked like you clawed your way back from the dead."
Sicilia, pulling her gloves on, added, "If you hadn't tied the boat to the ship, we never would've found you."
Ray blinked. "Wait... on the boat?"
The air stiffened.
Robin's stare turned sharp. "If not on the boat... then where?"
Ray's eyes widened. "Ah—no, I mean… I must've dreamt I came back to the ship," he stammered. "Just caught me off guard, that's all." He let out an awkward laugh, scratching his neck, avoiding eye contact.
Robin studied him, silent, then spun on his heel and stormed out. Sicilia gave Ray one last look and followed.
Ray sat in the quiet, still catching his breath. Jack sat nearby, polishing his sword in silence.
"He's lying," Robin snapped, turning to Sicilia. "You saw the way he woke up—like someone drowning. Don't tell me that was just a dream. He lied straight to our faces."
His voice trembled with barely controlled anger, jaw clenched tight. "I don't want him on this ship another minute. Throw him off."
He marched toward the quarterdeck, fuming.
"Calm down, will you?" Sicilia said, inhaling deeply, voice firm but level.
Robin spun around, eyes blazing. "Calm down?! We don't even know where that kid came from! What if Valor sent him? Or some hidden faction?!" He began lowering the small boat into the water. "What if ISA—sent here because they know where we're heading?!"
Sicilia didn't speak. She just sat on the deck, her silence more grounding than words. Robin paced, frustrated, then finally dropped down beside her with a deep exhale.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
"…I'm overthinking it, huh?" he said quietly.
"Yeah," she replied, watching the horizon.
Robin groaned, running both hands down his face. "Ugh… ISA wouldn't send that much of a deadweight to spy, right?"
Sicilia nodded slightly.
"But… what if he is one of them?" Robin muttered, glancing over at her.
"Then I'll kill him myself," she said calmly, her tone cold and deliberate. She patted his back. "Don't worry. Leave him to me."
Robin sighed and rubbed his temples. "Got it… Sigh… I just hope the captain's doing alright." his voice lowered
Sicilia smiled faintly, her voice softer. "Don't worry. He's not that easy to break."
Back inside, Ray glanced nervously around the room. The silence stretched. He scratched his neck, trying to fill the air.
"Um... I cleaned your room."
Jack paused mid-motion, sliding his sword back into its sheath. "Rabbit liked it. Thank you."
Ray gave a shaky laugh. "Haha... yeah. No big deal. Just doing my job," he muttered, then suddenly noticed the cut on Jack's bicep. "Wait—you're hurt?"
The ship gave a soft lurch as it picked up speed.
Jack looked at the small wound and blinked. "It's nothing. Just a scratch."
"Um... but Sicilia could heal that."
"I said small," Jack replied curtly.
Ray flinched a little. This was only the second time Jack had spoken to him—he rarely talked to anyone. Still, Ray pushed on. "How... how'd you get it?"
Jack finally looked at him. His gray-brown eyes—heavy, unreadable, and deep like storm clouds—met Ray's crimson gaze. Ray felt his breath catch.
"Killed some people," Jack said calmly. "Got hurt along the way." His stare didn't falter. "Be careful," he added softly, then stood and walked out.
Ray exhaled sharply the moment the door clicked shut.
"Be careful?" he whispered to himself. And just like that, the memory surged back—that figure in white, the moment in the water, those eyes opening just before he was pulled under.
Ray's fists clenched tightly around the bedsheets.
"Who would want to kill me?" he muttered. "Wait… he didn't try to kill me. Or else… he wouldn't have saved me…"
___________
Far above, on the floating dead island, Ola watched the ship move steadily through the water below. He stroked his white beard thoughtfully.
"Activate Driftwind," he said.
A vortex of air circled at his feet, lifting him slightly as it dried the sea still dripping from his white cloak.
A monkey sat perched on his staff, growling low.
"I know, I know," Ola muttered. "Don't worry. We'll meet him again soon enough. But he's got a long way to go, so don't get excited just yet. What if he breaks before that?"
The monkey snarled louder, clearly irritated.
"Alright, alright—I wasn't that hard on him. Just had to test a hunch."
The monkey growled again—this time at him.
"ho ho ho, really? You're already his fan?" Ola's voice dropped, suddenly colder. "You do realize… he might not survive. No reason to get attached. Could be dead in a few years… hmm, maybe just one." he added teh last sentence teasingly
The monkey growled furiously, but Ola only chuckled.