The windship soared high above the tranquil blues of West Blue, slicing through layers of clouds with silence only broken by the gentle hum of the rear propeller. Below, the world sprawled in patches of green and blue. Nico Robin leaned over the edge of the observation deck, eyes gleaming as she watched the ocean ripple far beneath them.
She had grown stronger these past two years. Livelier. Laughter, once a stranger to her lips, now came easily—though still quietly. But today, her eyes held a different light: hope. For the first time since Ohara, she had found a trail.
"There's a man in Shellwind Market," she said, gripping the rail. "He was a friend to the Ohara scholars once. Before the purge. If anyone knows what became of the ones who fled, it's him."
Victor stood behind her, silent but attentive. He watched her posture, her voice, her breath. She radiated anticipation. It was the kind of spark he hadn't seen in her since they met. That alone made it worth the risk.
He nodded. "We'll descend two islands south. The market should be within reach by nightfall."
The Phantom Hunter's ship veered, the wind bending to Victor's silent command. The two side propellers hissed alive, guiding them down beneath the clouds.
The marketplace bustled with evening energy. Stalls glowed under lantern light, merchants called out their deals, and the aroma of roasted sea beast and candied yams filled the air. Robin wore a green shawl pulled over her head, her youthful features hidden in shadows. Victor trailed behind her, hooded and silent, his steps blending with the crowd.
Robin navigated confidently, her curiosity sharpening her senses. She moved with purpose, following whispers, old names, and fragments of ancient memories. Victor noted her agility. She no longer moved like a hunted child—she moved like a scholar with a cause.
After an hour, they found the stall. An old man sat hunched over crates of parchment, selling maps and sea charts.
Robin stepped forward. "Are you Mendor of Etrulia?"
The man blinked up at her. His gaze sharpened slightly. "Who's asking?"
She hesitated, then reached into her satchel. A small strip of aged parchment—an Ohara index card—lay folded inside. She unfolded it and placed it gently on his table.
The old man studied it. His fingers trembled.
"That mark… only the Ohara librarians knew it."
Robin took a step closer. "They said you once sailed with Professors Clove and Grinald. Do you know what happened to them after the attack?"
Mendor leaned back. His eyes darted left and right. For a moment, Victor saw a flicker of guilt.
"You're not safe here, girl," the old man whispered. "There are ears everywhere. But yes. I know something. They went east after the Buster Call. Hid in the shoal caves near Veon Island. That's where they told me they'd wait."
Robin's heart beat fast. Her hand clutched Victor's cloak. "Veon Island... we can go right now."
Victor gave the old man a quiet nod of thanks, eyes unreadable.
They departed quickly, Robin practically pulling him through the alleyways back to the port.
Night had fallen by the time they reached the ship. Stars blinked through the sky like ancient watchers. The hull's panels gleamed under the moonlight, reflecting the vastness above.
Victor prepped the ship without a word. But as he adjusted the wind current channels, something gnawed at the back of his senses—Observation Haki flaring quietly.
A silence too deliberate.
Too clean.
But Robin's enthusiasm was contagious. He said nothing yet.
The ship rose again, ascending in the dark, and angled east toward Veon Island.
They reached it before dawn.
A jagged mass of stone and dense jungle, Veon Island looked untouched by civilization. The beach was wild. The trees thick. And among the craggy cliffs, a series of gaping cave mouths yawned open.
Robin was the first to disembark. She moved quickly, scanning the entrances.
"Professor Grinald used to speak of crystal formations that echoed light back a hundredfold. If this is the right place, we'll find those caves."
Victor followed at a measured pace. Every movement he made was deliberate. He touched the earth with subtle pulses of wind, feeling vibrations through the ground. Five signatures. Unmoving. Close.
He exhaled.
A trap.
But he said nothing. Not yet.
Robin entered the largest cave. Crystals glittered inside, catching the dawn's first light. She gasped, running her hand over the walls.
"It's real," she whispered. "This… they must have been here. Maybe even stayed."
She turned toward a rusted camp stove, now overtaken by moss. A child's shoe lay nearby. Robin's breath caught.
Then came the shift.
The wind changed.
Victor felt it first.
And from the shadows—five figures emerged.
Men in black suits. Emotionless faces. Each wearing mirrored glasses, footsteps eerily synchronized.
Robin froze. Her instincts screamed.
Victor stepped forward, cloak rustling.
The lead agent spoke. "Nico Robin. You are in violation of World Government Code 74-E. Your knowledge of forbidden texts is a global threat. You are to be detained immediately."
Robin backed away. Fear returned, clawing at her spine. "No… no! You tricked us!"
Victor stepped in front of her.
The agents drew their weapons—slim, silent rifles coated with Seastone on the handles. Their movements were efficient. Trained. Deadly.
Victor's voice was quiet. "You will leave. Now."
The lead agent tilted his head. "You are not involved. Step aside."
Victor's eyes narrowed.
He moved.
The first bullet never left the rifle.
In a breath, Victor was inside their guard. Wind exploded outward like a sonic pulse. The first agent's head twisted sharply as Victor's elbow struck with bone-breaking precision.
Robin screamed.
The second agent lunged, but Victor sidestepped and drove a palm into his solar plexus—air pressure rupturing from the inside. He crumpled.
Three more.
They fanned out.
Victor ducked under a slash, swept the attacker's legs with a low kick, and followed with a wind-propelled strike to the chest. His body slammed into the crystal wall.
The fourth agent raised a baton, crackling with electricity.
Victor caught it mid-swing.
Armament Haki flooded his hand, shattering the weapon.
He twisted the agent's wrist until the bone snapped. Then he hurled him into the fifth.
Only one remained conscious.
He reached for a communication snail.
Victor appeared behind him.
The wind screamed.
And silence returned.
Robin stood at the center of the cave, trembling. The air still vibrated with the echo of violence.
Five bodies.
One man.
Victor turned, brushing a smear of blood from his coat.
"They won't follow. Not soon."
Robin fell to her knees beside the old campfire.
"They knew I'd come here. They were watching the trail. I led them here. I put you in danger."
Victor crouched beside her, not touching.
"They underestimated you. That was their mistake."
Her shoulders shook.
"I thought… I thought maybe someone had survived. That there was still something left of my home. I wanted it to be true so badly."
Her voice cracked.
"I just wanted to stop being alone."
Tears spilled. Years of running, hiding, loss—it all came crashing down.
Victor waited.
He knew this pain. He had seen it before. In soldiers. In innocents. In children forced to grow old by grief.
"You are not alone, Robin."
She looked up at him through tears.
"If you want to keep running, I'll run with you. If you want to fight, I'll fight beside you. If you want to find the truth—we'll find it together."
She wiped her eyes.
"They'll never stop coming."
He nodded. "Then we'll fly where they can't reach."
Back aboard the ship, the engines roared to life. The sky opened for them.
Robin stood at the helm, wind brushing her face, her hand in a tight grip on the railing. Victor stood behind her, adjusting the altitude flaps.
As they soared higher, Veon Island shrank beneath them.
Below, the agents lay forgotten in their trap. Above, the sky stretched infinite.
Robin's heart was still heavy. But in it, a new fire had been lit.
She wasn't alone.
Not anymore.
And now, with the storm at her back—she would never stop searching for the truth.
Not as long as the wind carried them forward.