Chapter Two: The Map-Keeper and the Mob
The ocean stank of fire and oil.
Flint Korran slumped at the edge of the docks, one boot soaked in seawater, the other tapping absently against a crate of expired gunpowder. The Elar Fruit still churned in his belly like it was fighting to escape—his stomach felt stretched, his nerves jangled, and his fingers kept bending backward when he wasn't looking.
But he was smiling.
"Best. Night. Ever."
A bullet pinged off the crate beside his head.
Flint blinked. "Right. Still being hunted."
He lunged upright and bolted toward the only ship in sight—a tiny, battered skiff half-sunk in the water, its sail torn, its hull bleeding. And on the deck, hunched over a glowing scroll, sat a girl no older than him, muttering curses and calculations in the dark.
She didn't even flinch as Flint hurled himself aboard, landing in a heap near her boots.
"Hey," he wheezed, "this thing still float?"
The girl didn't look up. "Not for you, rubber boy."
Flint blinked. "How do you—"
"You're the idiot who ate the Veinfruit."
"Elar Fruit," Flint corrected without thinking.
Her eyes finally lifted. They were cold, calculating, the color of candlelight behind stained glass.
"No. You don't get to name it. That fruit's been guarded by the Brine-Jaws for seven years. Do you even know what you swallowed?"
"Power," he said with a grin. "Or poison. Possibly both."
The girl sighed and rolled the scroll shut, tucking it into her coat. She stood, brushing back a strand of ink-black hair, and pointed past his shoulder.
"They're coming."
Flint turned to see torchlights and grappling hooks—half the dock was alive with shouting pirates, all of them running toward the skiff.
"Guess you're with me now," he said, grabbing a rope.
"I didn't say I was—"
"Too late!"
He cut the mooring with a piece of jagged glass and kicked the skiff off the dock just as bullets rained down behind them. The sail caught a sudden gust, and they lurched into the open tide, spinning wildly into the smoke.
The girl caught herself on the mast and glared at him.
"I had this handled."
"Oh yeah?" Flint said, steadying the rudder. "I'm sure your plan to die alone in a leaky coffin was brilliant. Got a name, dark and stormy?"
"Nyra."
"Nice. I'm Captain Flint Korran. This is now officially my ship."
"It's my ship."
"I claimed it."
"You stole it."
"We're pirates. That's how things work."
She stared at him a long moment, then walked below deck. "Fine. But if you call yourself captain again, I'm throwing you overboard."
They drifted for hours, the city behind them glowing like a dying ember.
Flint lay on his back under the stars, arms stretched and flexing, testing his new limits. Every time he punched the air, his arm stretched a little farther. His ribs still ached from earlier, but the pain was nothing compared to the thrill boiling in his blood.
Rubber man. Pirate. Fugitive. Free.
He turned his head and saw Nyra hunched by the bow, unfurling the strange scroll again. It glowed faintly in the moonlight—lines and symbols that shimmered, moved even.
"What is that?" he asked.
She didn't answer at first. Then, softly:
"It's one-seventh of a star-map."
Flint sat up. "A star-map?"
Nyra nodded, tracing one glowing arc with her finger. "Not a normal map. These are encoded fragments of the Ocean Soul. The first Pirate King broke the original into seven pieces before his execution. Each was hidden, cursed, and locked by sorcery and bloodlines. This is one of them."
Flint let that sink in.
"So you're... what? A map-keeper?"
Nyra's jaw tightened. "I'm the last one."
He whistled. "You're really bad at keeping maps, then."
She gave him a look that could kill whales. "I didn't ask for you to show up. You've now made me the target of every bounty hunter, Warlord, and Tribunal enforcer on this sea."
Flint stood, stretched his arms out like sails, and grinned wide.
"Good. Let 'em come."
Nyra shook her head in disbelief.
"You're actually insane."
"I'm ambitious," Flint corrected. "I just happen to express it through madness."
She watched him, truly watched him this time, as he stared out at the open sea like it was calling to him personally.
"So what now, Captain Korran?" she asked dryly.
He looked back with fire in his eyes.
"Now?" He pointed at the stars. "We build a crew. We find the other fragments. And then we claim the Ocean Soul."
Nyra hesitated. "You don't even know what it is."
"I don't need to."
He smiled that crooked, irreverent grin that would one day split the world in two.
"I just know I want it."
END OF CHAPTER TWO