The battle in Idunn's Orchard had reached its peak. Apollon's golden beams struck the ground and silver branches, casting flickering shadows across Fuku and his companions. The Six Rats fought with fierce determination, but even their newfound divine energy seemed fragile against the might of the sun god.
Fuku felt the ground tremble beneath him—but it wasn't Apollon's power. An ancient, incomprehensible presence had arrived. The air quivered, the sky turned to steel and green, and a low, guttural roar shook the orchard, vibrating through Fuku's bones.
— FUKU…! Jörmungandr's voice thundered in his mind, deep and resonant, shaking every fiber of his being. — YOU CANNOT DIE HERE. NOT YET.
A colossal serpent emerged from the mists of Helheim, its coils stretching higher than the clouds. Its eyes burned with an ancient hunger, and every movement of its massive tail sent shockwaves of raw power that twisted the earth and made the Bifrost itself shudder.
Apollon, taken aback, faltered mid-strike, his golden brilliance dimmed slightly by the sheer magnitude of the serpent.
— WHO… WHAT…? he spat, his voice faltering as doubt touched the heart of a god.
Jörmungandr spoke not with words, but with force. The massive coils of the serpent wrapped around Fuku and the Six Rats, enveloping them in a swirling vortex of green-and-silver energy, bending space itself.
— HOLD ON, Fuku! the serpent warned. You feel the cosmos pull, the threads of reality tearing.
Before Apollon could react, the serpent's coils spun faster, twisting the very fabric of existence. Colors from the Nine Realms swirled around them, and each outlaw was ripped apart from one another, hurled into distant corners of the cosmos as if they were pieces of a colossal cosmic puzzle.
Fuku felt himself fragment, disoriented and spinning, every cell vibrating with the power of the Idunn fruit. When his vision cleared, he found himself in an unfamiliar realm: jagged violet mountains under a swirling, stormy sky.
His crew had been scattered as well—each landing in a different realm. Yet, even across the distances of the Nine Realms, Fuku could feel the threads of their souls. They were not lost. They were still connected.
— Jörmungandr! Fuku called into the void, sensing the serpent's presence around him. — Why…?
— To protect you, Son of the Thief, replied the serpent, his voice deep and vibrating with cosmic authority. — The gods will not let you leave alive as long as you wield their power. I disperse you so that you may survive. Each realm will teach you strength, resilience, and the true nature of the Fruit. You will reunite… but only once each of you is ready.
Fuku felt dizziness, disorientation, and a surge of fury. He was separated from his brothers, far from the orchard, far from the golden light of the apples. But he understood the serpent's plan. Jörmungandr had not fled the fight—he had given them a chance to come back stronger, to challenge the gods themselves.
— Very well… Fuku murmured, clenching his fist. — If this is the gods' game, then I will play by my own rules.
And as the vortex of the Nine Realms engulfed him completely, a new fire ignited within. He was no longer just a thief. He was a force. A storm. And soon, he would reunite with his brothers to reclaim what was rightfully theirs.