The Frozen Fang
The island was a frozen wasteland, an inhospitable realm where the wind and snow carried the weight of a thousand forgotten memories. The air itself felt heavy, the chill of the endless storm seeping into the very bones of those who dared to step upon its frozen shores. Every gust of wind sent flurries of snow spiraling through the air, twisting and turning like the whispers of a thousand lost souls. The ground was slick with ice, and every step was an effort to keep one's footing, the snow beneath the feet crunching with every movement.
From his perch on the jagged cliffside, Varin watched the figures below with silent, icy eyes. They stood out against the desolate whiteness, a vibrant contrast to the dull, gray landscape. Each one was unique, their presence undeniable even in the face of the biting wind. But they were far from home, far from the warmth and comfort they were used to.
First, there was the swordsman, his green boots crunching in the snow as he moved with the precision and grace of a predator. A long, green jacket clung to his chest, its fabric whipped by the wind, but it was the three blades strapped to his side that gave him a menacing air. His body was tense, every muscle coiled and ready for action. His eyes scanned the horizon, dark and unwavering. The wind tugged at his spiky green hair, but he paid it no mind. His expression was one of quiet determination, unfazed, even as the storm seemed to howl in protest. The swordsman was a warrior, and nothing was going to shake his resolve.
Next to him was the woman, her orange hair a stark contrast against the dull, stormy backdrop. Wrapped in thick layers of snow gear, her face was partially obscured by the scarf around her neck, but her sharp eyes were still visible, quick, intelligent, and cautious. She moved swiftly, her steps deliberate, yet there was a flicker of uncertainty in her posture. Her gaze constantly shifted, and every now and then, she would glance over her shoulder as if expecting something, or someone, out of place. Despite the cold, she held a map in one gloved hand, her fingers frozen but steady, her thoughts elsewhere as she tried to make sense of their position in the storm. She was a thinker, a planner, but here, on this unforgiving island, even the best-laid plans could be disrupted.
Then there was the lanky one, his brown, curly hair wild and unkempt beneath his thick scarf. He moved with an almost comical energy, his gangly limbs struggling against the cold as he wrapped his arms tighter around himself. He fidgeted, constantly glancing around nervously, his eyes darting from shadow to shadow as if expecting an ambush at any moment. His thin fingers gripped his slingshot nervously, though his hands trembled in the biting cold. The wind whipped through his jacket, and he shivered involuntarily, but there was no mistaking the determination in his eyes. He wasn't as steady or as calm as the others, but there was an unyielding will beneath his jittery demeanor, a resolve to press forward despite the fear that gnawed at his insides.
The fourth figure, standing at the rear, was a tall, muscular man, his blonde hair mostly hidden beneath a thick hood. His broad shoulders strained against his heavy jacket, his posture unwavering despite the harsh elements. His movements were deliberate and methodical, each step taken with purpose. There was a quiet intensity about him, an air of strength and calm that contrasted sharply with the turmoil of the storm. He didn't seem bothered by the cold, nor did he seem to notice the biting wind. His eyes were fixed ahead, scanning the horizon with practiced ease, his gloved hands buried deep in his pockets as he walked with a casual confidence that came from years of experience in the harshest of environments.
And then there was the leader, the one with the straw hat perched jauntily atop his head, a symbol of carefree defiance in the face of adversity. His snow gear was no different from the others, though his movements were less cautious and more relaxed, as though he were taking a leisurely stroll rather than traversing a treacherous frozen island. His carefree attitude seemed to stand in stark contrast to the storm around him, the wind tugging at his red vest and causing it to flutter like a flag in the wind. His eyes sparkled with an unwavering sense of optimism, and despite the harsh cold, there was a warmth in his presence that seemed to push back against the chill. He was the one who wore his emotions openly, never hiding his intentions or desires. Even in the face of an unknown danger, he walked forward without hesitation, as if nothing could stop him.
Varin watched them all with a mixture of curiosity and disdain, his silver eyes glinting like shards of ice. They didn't belong here. They were out of place on this island, lost in the storm. But that wasn't his concern. What bothered him, what piqued his interest, was the way they moved. Their coordination. Their strength. Even in the face of the storm, they didn't falter. It was rare to find a group like this, one that could survive in a place like this. But the question remained: what were they really doing here?
His fingers twitched, a low growl rumbling in his throat. He was hidden, concealed by the jagged rocks and ice of the cliffside. His form was barely visible, a shadow among shadows, his silver eyes gleaming with the hunger of a predator who had found something worthy of his attention. Every inch of his body screamed for action, for the thrill of the hunt, for the power of the storm to match the power of his own form.
And so, with a soft exhale, Varin allowed his voice to rise, carried by the wind, its sharp edge biting through the howling storm. It came to them from every direction at once as though the very air had spoken his words.
"What are you doing here?"
His voice was low and commanding, the weight of it carrying through the snow like an oppressive force. It rang through the air, the words echoing off the jagged cliffs. The group froze, their eyes immediately scanning the landscape, searching for the source of the voice.
The swordsman's hand shot to the hilts of his swords, his body tense, ready to react. He looked around, trying to determine where the threat was coming from, but saw nothing, just the endless white of the snowstorm and the jagged rocks around them. His eyes narrowed, instincts on high alert.
The woman with orange hair clutched her map tightly in her gloved hands, but her eyes were darting, constantly shifting as if she could sense something lurking just out of sight. She was cautious and calculating, and though the storm made it hard to hear, she knew they were not alone. She knew that voice had been no accident.
The lanky man jumped at the sound, his slingshot raised defensively, his heart racing. His eyes were wide with alarm, his body shaking from the cold and the sudden rush of adrenaline. "Who's there?" he called out, his voice a little more panicked than he intended.
The muscular man in the rear remained calm, though his eyes were searching the environment carefully. His hand went to the hilt of his own weapon, his posture resolute, a silent readiness for whatever danger awaited them. His eyes flicked from his comrades to the horizon, trying to pinpoint where the voice had come from.
The carefree leader, still with that smirk on his face, shrugged casually as though he weren't bothered at all. "What's the deal? Come out and show yourself," he called out with a confident grin, unfazed by the unsettling atmosphere.
But Varin's voice came again, colder this time, sharper as if the storm itself had risen in response to his command.
"I asked you… What are you doing here?"
The wind picked up, swirling in a violent frenzy, and for a moment, the group stood still, caught in the icy tension. Varin's claws flexed, the feeling of his blood rushing. The storm had acted away, though it could read his change in emotion and had begun to reflect his own emotions, his anger, his curiosity, his hunger. But one thing was clear: this was his domain, and he would not let them forget it.
It was only a matter of time before they would realize just how dangerous this island truly was.
The wind howled, deafening, the snow swirling violently around the group as the silence stretched between Varin's words. The tension in the air was palpable. He could feel their unease, their eyes constantly flicking to each other, searching for the source of his voice, trying to locate him. But Varin remained hidden, a shadow in the storm, his silver eyes gleaming with cold amusement.
"You don't look like Marines," he continued, his voice steady, cutting through the blizzard with precision. "Not enough discipline for that. Too sloppy."
His words were deliberate as if testing their reactions, poking at the uncertainty that clung to them like the cold. The swordsman shifted, his hand still on his sword, but Varin could tell he was just as confused as the others.
He paused, and when he spoke again, the air seemed to grow even colder. "Bounty hunters, maybe? But... no, there's nothing to hunt here."
Varin's lips curled into a faint, cruel smile as the wind carried his next words.
"Not a single bounty to be found on this island. No targets, no treasures, nothing of value." He let the words hang in the air, his voice barely more than a whisper against the howling wind. "So what are you really here for?"
The group shifted uncomfortably, and Varin's silver eyes flicked to each of them, noting their discomfort. The swordsman, gripping his sword hilt, was the first to open his mouth, but his words were cut off as a voice rang out.
The lanky one, holding a slingshot, stammered out his response, "I… I have a million pirates surrounding this island! You better watch out! They'll be here any- "
Varin's voice interrupted him almost immediately, a low chuckle following his words. "A million pirates? That's quite the terrible lie." His eyes gleamed in the darkness, a predator sizing up its prey. "Impressive in its absurdity, though."
The slingshot-wielder recoiled, his face flushing in embarrassment. He shuffled back, muttering under his breath.
The woman with the orange hair, her arms folded tightly against the cold, gave a huff, her patience wearing thin. "We're just here to find food. Our idiot captain used it all up, trying to catch birds. We're stuck here with nothing."
The boys—the captain from the womans words—voice boomed across the frozen landscape, cutting through the tension like a knife. "I'm not an idiot! I just wanted to catch some birds for us to eat! What's wrong with that, huh?!"
Varin's voice, low and dangerous, was quick to reply. "Is that so? You wasted all your supplies on that foolish stunt?"
The boy, undeterred by the harsh words, crossed his arms and grinned wide, his usual boisterous demeanor intact despite the cold. "Yeah, well, it's not like I meant for us to get stuck out here! But now that we're here, we're gonna find a way to get out! You can bet on that!"
Varin's silver eyes flicked to the pirate, a faint chuckle escaping his lips. The laugh was humorless, cutting through the storm with cruel amusement. "You're more entertaining than I expected, I'll give you that."
Before the boy could respond, the woman with the orange hair, the one who had been gripping the map tightly, stepped forward, her voice sharp with frustration. "Forget him," she spat, her patience clearly wearing thin. "We really are just here to find food. Like I said, our idiot captain used it all. Well most of it anyway."
Varin's eyes narrowed, the faint smile vanishing as he regarded her, his cold, calculating gaze never leaving her face. She wasn't telling the full truth. No, there was more to this story, but he would get to that later.
"Better," Varin's voice cut through the wind, low and almost approving, though it was laced with an eerie coldness. "Though you're still lying."
The woman's eyes widened, her lips twitching in frustration as she shifted her stance. "What?" she hissed, eyes narrowing.
"You're flying a jolly roger." Varin's tone was deliberate, his words sharp like a blade. "A pirate ship, yet you claim you're just 'trying to survive.' Do you take me for a fool?"
The group fell silent, the tension thickening as his accusation hung in the air. For a moment, no one moved. The swordsman's hand hovered near his swords, and the slingshot-wielder shifted uncomfortably. But it was the woman who finally broke the silence.
She let out a defeated breath, shoulders sagging under the weight of the truth now being exposed. She didn't even attempt to hide the annoyance on her face. "Fine," she muttered, her voice laced with frustration. "We're pirates. But we didn't come here for treasure or anything like that. We just… need food. Our idiot captain messed up, and now we're stuck. That part is the truth." She exhaled sharply, her breath visible in the freezing air, before leveling her gaze in the direction of the unseen voice. "Since you seem to know this island so well, do you know anywhere we can find animals? Anything we can hunt?"
A low chuckle echoed through the icy air, carried by the howling wind as if the storm itself found amusement in her question. The group tensed, instinctively drawing closer together as the voice, sharp and edged with something unreadable, responded from the unseen veil of snow.
"Why should I help you?" Varin asked, his tone devoid of warmth. His words hung in the frozen air, their weight pressing against the uneasy silence. "Why shouldn't I just let you freeze to death? Or better yet…"
A flicker of silver glinted in the distance, barely visible through the thick snowfall. His claws, coated in frost, flexed slightly. His voice dropped lower, almost thoughtful.
"…why shouldn't I kill you myself?"
The words cut through the cold sharper than any blade, sending a visible shiver through the group. The one with the swords stiffened, his grip tightening on the hilts at his side. The lanky one visibly swallowed, shifting behind the others. The blonde man's posture changed just slightly, his hands slipping into his coat pockets, poised for a fight if necessary.
Only the fool in the straw hat didn't react with fear. Instead, he let out an irritated noise and threw his arms up in exasperation. "Oi! Wait a minute, why is everyone calling me an idiot today?! First them, now you?!"
The red-haired woman snapped her head toward him. "Maybe because you are an idiot?" she bit out, shooting him a glare before turning her attention back to the unseen threat.
She inhaled, steadying herself before speaking again. "Look, we don't want a fight. We just need food," she repeated, keeping her tone even despite the underlying tension. "That's all."
The wind howled between them, stretching the silence thin. The storm raged on, yet the presence hidden within it remained as still as the ice itself.
Then, at last, the voice returned.
"…And what exactly makes you think I care?"
The words slammed into them like a fresh gust of icy wind. The red-haired woman's expression hardened, but she didn't back down.
"We don't think you care," she admitted, her breath visible in the freezing air. "But if you wanted us dead, you would've done it already."
The group exchanged glances. Even the swordsman, who had remained tense and ready for a fight, flicked his gaze toward her as if weighing the truth in her words. The lanky one still looked uneasy, gripping his slingshot in white-knuckled fingers, but he hadn't run, likely out of fear of whatever lurked in the storm rather than bravery.
The voice chuckled again, deep and slow, though it lacked mirth. "You're bolder than I expected," Varin remarked. "Smarter than your captain, at least."
"Oi!" The straw-hatted man shouted again, fists clenched. His face scrunched up in frustration, and for a second, he looked as though he was about to charge in whatever direction he thought Varin was.
The blonde one grabbed his coat to stop him, his face a mask of thinly restrained irritation. "Not the time," he muttered.
Varin watched them from his unseen perch, silver eyes reflecting the white abyss around them. He wasn't used to dealing with people, especially ones this… unshaken. The average traveler who stumbled upon this frozen wasteland either fled at the first sign of his presence or collapsed in the cold, unable to withstand its merciless grasp.
But these ones… these ones argued.
He exhaled, watching the frost leave his lips in a slow plume. "So you need food," he mused, dragging the words out as if savoring the weight of their predicament. "And you're asking me, a stranger you can't even see, for help?"
The woman crossed her arms, her patience thinning, though there was a sharpness in her gaze that told him she was well aware of the precarious nature of their situation. "We don't have many options," she admitted, her voice steady. "If you know of any place where we can find animals, then tell us. If not, we'll find something on our own."
Her confidence would have been admirable if it wasn't so misplaced.
Varin let the silence stretch, let the wind fill the space between them until the weight of the cold settled deep into their bones.
Then, finally, he spoke.
"There's nothing living on this island."
The words were final. A verdict passed.
The group's reactions varied. The swordsman remained impassive, though a flicker of frustration passed through his features. The lanky one paled, his hope visibly draining. The blonde man exhaled through his nose, clearly biting back a curse. And the woman, despite her earlier resolve, frowned deeply.
The fool in the straw hat, however, blinked. "…Huh?"
Varin's claws traced idly against the frozen stone beneath him. "You heard me. This place is a graveyard." His voice remained cold, as indifferent as the ice itself. "There are no animals. No prey. No life."
The woman narrowed her eyes. "Then how are you alive?"
That, at least, made him smirk. His silver eyes glinted though they remained unseen.
"I'm not like you," he murmured, the words just barely carrying over the wind.
The group stiffened again.
The swordsman's grip on his blades tightened just a fraction, the blonde's posture shifted ever so slightly, and the lanky one looked one step away from outright bolting. Even the fool in the straw hat, for all his obliviousness, now seemed interested.
Varin let the words settle, let the weight of them coil in their minds.
Then, he pushed himself to his feet, rolling his shoulders, his muscles flexing against the cold. The storm still veiled him, still kept him hidden within the frozen embrace of the island. But that wouldn't last much longer.
Because now…
Now, he was curious.
His claws flexed, his breath slow and steady.
"…And if you want to survive," he said, voice carrying just the slightest edge of dark amusement, "you should hope that you're not like me either."
And with that, he moved.
Not toward them.
Not yet.
But enough for them to feel it.
A shift in the wind. A ripple in the snow.
A presence no longer just watching.
But approaching.
The change in the air was instant. Instinctual.
The swordsman reacted first, his body tensing, shifting his stance as his grip on his weapons firmed. The movement was subtle, trained, the kind of readiness that came from years of surviving battles. The blonde took a step forward as well, one gloved hand lowering near his side, close to where a weapon might be concealed beneath his thick coat.
The long-nosed one, on the other hand, took an immediate and entirely unsubtle step back. His breath hitched, his slingshot clutched tight but clearly outmatched against whatever force now loomed just beyond the storm.
The orange-haired woman remained still, though her eyes darted through the veil of wind and snow, scanning for anything that might betray his position. "So," she started, voice tight, "you are planning to kill us after all."
Varin didn't answer immediately. Instead, he took another step. A slow, deliberate sound, his boots crunching against the ice.
The fool in the straw hat tilted his head, eyes wide and unafraid, as if he wasn't quite grasping the weight of the moment. "…So you do eat people?"
The swordsman's eye twitched. "You idiot-"
The woman didn't let him finish. "Shut up," she snapped before locking her gaze back on the storm. "We're not looking for a fight. We just want food. That's all."
Varin exhaled his breath, a mist against the freezing air. "And I told you," he sighed, "there's nothing here."
The blonde scoffed, shifting his weight. "Yeah? Then how are you still here?"
That question again.
A sharp grin curled at the edges of his lips, unseen through the storm. "I adapted."
The tension twisted tighter; like a cord pulled taut.
Then, just as another gust of wind tore through the mountainside, Varin made his move.
Not an attack. Not yet.
But the sudden shift was enough.
He vanished from where he stood, his movement silent, swift, and unnatural. A blur against the frost, a wraith among the ice, his presence slipping from one point to another like a phantom stalking prey.
The long-nosed one yelped, nearly stumbling back into a snowbank. "He's moving! I, I think, where is he?!"
The swordsman's eyes darted through the storm, searching for the telltale flicker of movement. The blonde shifted, already adjusting his footing. The woman sucked in a breath, visibly gritting her teeth.
But the fool in the straw hat?
He just grinned.
A reckless, gleeful expression spreading across his face as if something about this, this hunt, this unspoken challenge, excited him.
Varin, watching unseen from the storm, narrowed his eyes.
That one's dangerous.
Not in the way of a blade. Not in the way of brute strength or careful strategy.
But in the way of something that shouldn't be possible.
Something relentless.
Something that didn't know fear.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Varin let the moment linger before finally breaking the silence.
"Turn back," he said, his voice rolling through the wind like distant thunder. "This place isn't for the living."
His silver eyes gleamed through the storm, locked on them with something unreadable.
"…And if you are alive, you won't be for long."
The response was immediate.
"That's a lie!"
The wind howled, but his voice cut through it like a blade, sharp, unwavering, filled with that infuriating certainty.
The others barely had time to react before the fool in the straw hat continued, stepping forward into the storm without hesitation, his grin as unshaken as ever.
"If nothing's alive, then what have you been eating?"
The storm almost seemed to still for a fraction of a second.
Varin's silver eyes locked onto the boy's face through the swirling frost, analyzing, assessing. He had expected hesitation, fear, maybe a begrudging retreat. That was the natural response when faced with an unknown predator.
But instead, this one, this idiot, was smiling.
"You just said you adapted, right?" The boy tilted his head, unbothered by the chill biting at his skin. "So that means there's something here. Something to eat. Otherwise, you'd be dead."
The blonde's eyes flicked between them, his jaw tightening in frustration. "I hate to say this idiot has a point, but-"
"That means you know where the food is," the woman cut in, crossing her arms. "So why don't you just tell us?"
Varin remained silent, unreadable.
They were pressing. Trying to get a reaction. Trying to turn this in their favor.
The swordsman, still gripping his hilt, exhaled through his nose. "If you want us gone so bad, wouldn't it be easier just to point us to some food and let us leave?" His eyes narrowed, cold and calculating. "Unless you'd rather fight instead."
A sharp chuckle escaped Varin's throat before he could stop it.
Bold.
Reckless.
Foolish.
He let the sound linger, watching their reactions. The long-nosed one immediately flinched. The woman shifted, bracing herself. The blonde gritted his teeth, clearly preparing for the worst.
But the straw hat?
Still grinning.
Still waiting.
Still expecting something more.
Varin exhaled slowly. "You're more trouble than you're worth."
"Yeah, we get that a lot," the boy replied without missing a beat.
Another pause. The snow swirled, thick and unrelenting, cloaking the landscape in white.
Varin considered his options.
Killing them here would be simple. The storm was his ally. The cold had long since bent to his will. Their warmth, their very presence, was an offense to this place. If he wanted, he could end this conversation in an instant.
But something about them, something about him, made him hesitate.
He was used to fear. Resentment. The quiet dread of those who realized they had stumbled upon something beyond them.
This, though?
This was different.
The silence stretched for a moment longer, the storm raging between them. The wind clawed at their clothes, and the snow stung their skin, but none of them moved. Not yet.
Varin exhaled, the cold misting from his lips as he made his decision.
Fine.
If they wanted to see what this island had to offer so badly… he would show them himself.
The wind shifted.
And then he stepped forward.
From the jagged ice above, the blizzard peeled away like a curtain, revealing a silhouette that had been watching them all along.
Tall. Towering. The last time Varin had measured himself, years ago, he had stood at 8.5 feet. Whether he had grown since then, he wasn't sure. His presence cast a long, imposing shadow over the snow. Bare-chested despite the biting cold, his silver eyes were sharp, unreadable, reflecting the raging storm as if they were a part of it. His long, wild black hair, dusted with frost, lashed violently in the wind. Scars mapped his lean, battle-hardened frame, each one a silent testament to battles fought against foes far more ruthless than mere men. The freezing air clung to everyone else, gnawing at their skin with icy teeth, but he moved forward as if the cold did not exist, his boots crunching steadily against the ice.
Up close, there was something inhuman about him.
Something wild.
The long-nosed one let out a strangled noise, stumbling backward into the snow. "I—I knew it! A frost demon! A ghost! Some kind of—"
A swift smack cut him off.
The blonde tensed, shifting his stance, fingers twitching as if deciding how quickly he could strike. The swordsman remained still, fingers resting near his blade, watching, waiting.
But the one in the straw hat?
He just grinned, staring up at him in awe. "Whoa! You're huge! That's so cool!"
Varin blinked once, slow and unimpressed. "You're an idiot."
The boy simply grinned wider, completely unfazed. "Yeah, I've been told that before."
Varin scoffed, shaking his head, then turned without another word.
"Follow me."
And with that, he began to move.
The snow barely shifted under his steps, his balance effortless, his pace steady. The blizzard howled around them, but he walked through it like it was nothing.
The others exchanged glances.
"Are we just… trusting this?" the blonde muttered.
"We don't have a choice," the woman sighed, already trudging after him.
The swordsman merely grunted before following as well.
"Yep, this is definitely how horror stories start," the long-nosed one grumbled, hugging himself as he stumbled after them.
The straw hat, as expected, simply laughed. "Man, I like this guy."
Varin ignored them all, leading them further into the storm, his expression unreadable. The snow whipped around them, biting and relentless, but he moved with purpose, his steps confident as though he could navigate this frozen wasteland blindfolded. His shoulders were set, his form rigid, and his silver eyes were focused on the distance, seeing something far beyond the blinding snow.
They won't last here, not in his world. This place was merciless, unyielding. It consumed the weak and buried the foolish beneath endless ice. But if they were so determined to see what this island had to offer…
They would.
His voice cut through the howl of the wind, cold and detached. "There might be someplace with edible creatures," he said, his words almost casual, as if he were discussing the weather. "But they're rare. And dangerous."
The group's attention snapped to him, hope flickering in their eyes despite the ominous warning.
Straw hat grinned, his energy seemingly untouched by the cold. "Really? Where?" His voice was loud and eager as if he had already forgotten about the beasts they had just faced.
Varin didn't look at him, his gaze still fixed on the distance. "Deep in the valley, past the ice caves. There are creatures there that can be hunted."
The navigator's eyes narrowed, suspicion clear on her face. "And why are you helping us? You don't owe us anything."
Varin's lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. "I'm not helping you. I'm showing you the truth. If you survive, then maybe you deserve to eat."
The green-haired man's grip on his sword tightened. "Sounds like a challenge."
"It is," Varin replied, his tone devoid of emotion. "This place is a challenge. It doesn't care about who you are or what you want. It only cares about survival."
Straw hat's grin widened, his excitement only growing. "Sounds fun!"
The swordsman shot him an incredulous look. "You're insane."
Straw Hat just laughed more. "If we're gonna find food, we gotta go, right?"
Varin's expression remained unchanged, his silver eyes cold as he finally looked at them. "I'll lead you there. But after that… you're on your own."
The cold wind howled around them as he turned and continued onward, his figure becoming a shadow against the snow. The group hesitated for a moment before following, their determination outweighing their fear. The promise of food was enough to drive them forward, even into the unknown.
Varin's thoughts were distant, his mind drifting back to the days he had faced this land alone, hunted by the very creatures he was leading them toward.
Let them see. Let them understand.
He wouldn't help them. Not really. If they were strong, they would survive. If they were weak…
This island would bury them just like all the others.
Varin walked ahead, his movements silent despite the crunch of snow beneath his boots. The storm raged on, the howling winds clawing at their clothes, yet the one in the straw hat strode forward without a care, his grin unwavering, his energy seemingly boundless.
That one…
Varin didn't let his expression change, but something in the back of his mind stirred, an odd flicker of curiosity. There was something unnatural about him. Not in the way this land was unnatural, twisted by its own relentless hunger, but in a way that defied logic. It wasn't just the idiot's complete disregard for the cold nor his inability to feel fear in a place where fear was necessary. It was the way he carried himself, light, easy as if the world simply bent around him instead of the other way around.
Interesting.
He pushed the thought aside as another question came from behind him.
"S-So, what kind of creatures are we talking about?" It was the long-nosed one. His voice wavered, but he was trying to sound casual. "You know, so we can, uh… strategize."
Varin didn't slow his pace. "Mindless things," he said, his voice cutting through the storm. "They don't think. They don't plan. They exist only to hunt and consume."
The sniper's nervous energy spiked. "O-oh! Like, wolves or something?"
Varin gave a faint, humorless chuckle. "No. Not like wolves. Wolves have purpose. Instinct. These creatures don't. They don't need to eat. They don't need to rest. They hunt because it's all they know."
A heavy silence settled over the group. Even the swordsman looked thoughtful, his grip on his weapon steady but tense.
"How do you fight something like that?" The orange-haired woman's voice was sharp, calculating.
Varin finally glanced back at them, silver eyes reflecting the storm. "You don't," he said simply. "Not unless you have to. You run. You survive."
Luffy, still undeterred, tilted his head. "But you fight them, right?"
Varin met his gaze for a long moment. He could see nothing but certainty in the idiot's eyes, no doubt, no hesitation. It was maddening.
"…Sometimes," he admitted.
The storm swirled between them, snow catching in the wind like shards of glass.
The swordsman studied him now, his gaze unreadable. "You said there's nothing on this island. No people, no settlements, no bounties. But you're still here."
Varin turned away, stepping forward again.
"I was left here," he said, voice steady.
Another silence.
"Why?" The navigator asked after a moment.
Varin didn't answer immediately.
"Come," he said, his tone final. "If you're so eager to see what's out here, then let's not waste any more time."
And without another word, he led them deeper into the frozen abyss.
The wind howled through the frozen wasteland, carrying with it a deep, almost rhythmic hiss that sent an unnatural chill down the spine. It wasn't just the cold. This was something else entirely.
Varin stopped.
Not gradually, not with hesitation, he halted so suddenly that the Straw Hat nearly collided with him. The movement was too sharp, too deliberate. His shoulders tensed, and without turning, he raised a hand.
"Quiet."
The word cut through the storm, low but firm, carrying an unmistakable weight.
The long-nosed one swallowed hard, his hands gripping his slingshot with white-knuckled tension. The swordsman's fingers flexed at his side, brushing against the hilts of his weapons, but he didn't draw them, yet. The woman scanned the area with sharp eyes, and the blonde's jaw tensed, muscles coiling like a spring ready to snap.
The Straw Hat, of course, ignored all of this.
"Huh? What's, "
Varin's silver gaze flicked toward him, cold and unwavering. For the first time since they had met, his expression hardened, though only slightly. It was enough.
The fool quieted.
That was when the sound returned.
A deep, elongated hiss slithered through the frozen air, vibrating against the ice itself. It was different from the wind, more purposeful. The snow no longer fell in gentle waves but instead scattered in sudden bursts, as if something enormous was disturbing the landscape just out of sight.
Then came the movement.
A shifting in the storm, a dark shape coiling between the ice and snow, massive yet disturbingly fluid. Scales, like jagged shards of frost-covered glass, reflected the faint light, blending seamlessly with the whiteout around them.
The first glimpse of its head emerged, a long, angular shape, too smooth, too unnatural, with eyes like frozen sapphires gleaming in the darkness. Its tongue flickered out, splitting into two sharp, icicle-like tips before retreating back into its maw.
Varin exhaled slowly.
"A Blizzard Snake."
His voice was almost a whisper, but it carried a weight that made the words feel heavier than the storm itself.
"It's blind," he continued, his eyes never leaving the shifting form in the storm. "But it can hear the sound of your breath, the crack of your boots in the snow. It feels the warmth of your body through the ice beneath it."
As if to emphasize his words, the snake moved again, slow, deliberate. Its body slid effortlessly through the snow, coiling and uncoiling with terrifying grace.
Then it stopped.
The storm raged on, but the creature remained still, its massive head lifted ever so slightly as if… listening.
Waiting.
Silence.
The only sound was the howl of the wind, but even that seemed distant now, drowned beneath the weight of the moment. The Blizzard Snake had stopped moving, its great head poised, frozen in place, as if the storm itself held its breath.
No one dared to move.
Varin's gaze remained locked on the creature, his silver eyes unreadable. He had seen this before, prey caught in the crosshairs of a predator far beyond them. The wrong move would mean death, a swift and merciless end beneath the ice.
Then,
Crunch.
It was subtle, barely more than a shift of weight, but it was enough.
The swordsman, tense as ever, had shifted his foot. Just slightly. Just enough for the snow beneath his boot to compress.
The Blizzard Snake reacted instantly.
With a sound like ice splintering, its long body coiled violently, the storm parting around it as it lunged forward with terrifying speed.
The world became motion.
Varin moved first, his cloak billowing as he grabbed the Straw Hat's arm, yanking him back before the serpent's fangs could pierce where he had stood. Snow exploded in every direction, the force of the impact sending shards of ice flying through the air.
"Run," Varin hissed.
No one argued.
The long-nosed one yelped, tripping over himself as he scrambled backward, while the blonde pivoted, kicking off the ground as if he was already calculating a counterattack. The swordsman, despite his mistake, reacted quickly, unsheathing his blades in a flash of steel.
The Blizzard Snake twisted, its body undulating through the snow like liquid ice, already recalculating its attack. It was fast. Too fast. If they stayed here, it wouldn't matter how well they fought, this wasn't a battle they could win.
Varin's jaw clenched.
He hadn't planned to get involved. They weren't his problem. But if they died, he wouldn't get answers.
And, if he was being honest with himself, the Straw Hat intrigued him.
"This way!" Varin snapped, already moving, already leading.
No time for questions. No time for hesitation. They followed.
The storm swallowed them whole, the Blizzard Snake's furious hiss echoing behind them as it gave chase.
The group ran, the howling winds and the furious hisses of the Blizzard Snake merging into a single chaotic symphony behind them. Snow whipped at their faces, stinging their skin, but they didn't stop. They couldn't stop.
Varin led them through the storm, weaving through jagged ice formations, his movements fluid and precise. He knew this terrain, every hidden drop, every crevice, every place where the snow ran thin enough to betray the unwary. He didn't need to look back to know the others were struggling. Their footing was unsure, their instincts not yet attuned to the cruel, shifting landscape.
And then, of course, he spoke.
"Hey! Why didn't we just eat it?"
Varin almost tripped. Almost.
The Straw Hat's voice rang out far too loudly for someone being chased by a giant predator. He sounded completely unfazed as if this was just another passing thought rather than an urgent question about the ravenous beast currently trying to kill them.
The others nearly stumbled at his words, turning to him with varying expressions of disbelief. The swordsman shot him a glance like he was an idiot, the woman groaned into her scarf, and the long-nosed one gawked at him like he had just suggested they drink seawater.
Varin didn't stop running, but he did spare the Straw Hat a look. His silver eyes narrowed.
"It's poisonous." His voice was flat, cutting through the wind. "The meat will kill you before the cold does."
For a second, there was silence. Just the storm, their footsteps, and the distant, furious screech of the Blizzard Snake still in pursuit.
Then,
"Awww, man!"
The sheer disappointment in the Straw Hat's voice made Varin's eye twitch.
Was that really his only takeaway from this? Not the fact that they were about to die? Not the fact that the creature was literally trying to eat them alive? No, his concern was apparently that he couldn't eat it.
Varin didn't even bother responding. He just picked up the pace.
"Less talking, more running," he muttered.
Because if they didn't reach cover soon, it wouldn't matter what was poisonous or not. They'd all be dead before it made a difference.
The storm thickened, the snow swirling in chaotic bursts, making every step treacherous. The ground beneath them shifted unpredictably, layers of ice concealed by fresh powder, forcing them to rely more on instinct than sight. Behind them, the Blizzard Snake slithered with terrifying speed, its body carving through the snow like a living avalanche. Its screeches echoed a high-pitched, unnatural sound that cut through the storm like a blade.
Varin didn't stop. He knew exactly where he was going.
The others, however, were struggling. The long-nosed one nearly lost his footing, barely catching himself before tumbling into a deep snowdrift. The cook gritted his teeth, visibly irritated by the situation, but kept moving. The swordsman's instincts carried him forward, though even he wasn't entirely sure why he was trusting Varin to lead them anywhere safe.
The woman was the most skeptical. Her sharp eyes flickered between Varin and the path ahead, clearly debating whether or not they had just run straight into another trap.
And Straw Hat,
Well. He looked like he was having fun.
Varin spared a glance at him, only to find the idiot grinning as he ran. There was no fear in his expression. No hesitation. If anything, he seemed excited, like this was all just some kind of game.
He's either fearless… or an absolute fool.
Probably both.
"There." Varin's voice was sharp as he suddenly veered left, motioning for them to follow. "Stay close."
The path narrowed between two jagged ice formations, their crystalline surfaces gleaming even in the storm's dim light. Beyond them, a steep drop led to a lower ridge, dangerous but not impossible to navigate. Varin reached it first, skidding down with practiced ease, boots digging into the snow to slow his descent.
The others hesitated.
"Well?" Varin snapped. "Jump."
The swordsman grunted before leaping down effortlessly, landing in a crouch. The cook followed without complaint, barely needing to adjust his balance.
The long-nosed one was not as graceful. He flailed midair before crashing into the snow face-first, groaning dramatically. The woman landed beside him with much more control, rolling her eyes.
Straw Hat?
He just jumped without a second thought, except he didn't bother to brace his landing, just hit the ground straight on like a sack of bricks, bounced, and then got back up like nothing happened.
Varin resisted the urge to rub his temples.
At least they were all here.
Behind them, the Blizzard Snake reached the edge of the ridge, its elongated body pausing at the sudden drop. Its eerie, glowing eyes locked onto them. Its head reared back, mouth widening.
It was going to strike.
Varin moved.
With a swift motion , he hit an ice stalactite, sending it crashing onto the floor before it shattered like glass. The creature recoiled, hissing as its vision was momentarily obscured by the sound.
"Move now!" Varin ordered, already turning toward a concealed crevice between the ice.
The others didn't argue this time. They bolted after him.
The entrance to the cave was small, almost hidden against the ice, but Varin knew it well. He ducked inside, leading them through the narrow passage until the howling wind began to fade. The tunnel widened into a larger cavern, its interior shimmering with frost-coated walls. Stalactites of pure ice hung overhead, glistening like frozen daggers.
It wasn't warm by any means, but compared to the raging storm outside, it was a haven.
Varin exhaled, turning to face them. "It won't follow us in here," he said simply.
The cook straightened, brushing off snow. "You sure about that, pal?"
"Yes." Varin's silver eyes glinted in the dim light. "It relies on movement and sound to track prey. The cave's structure disrupts both. As long as you don't do anything stupid, it'll lose interest."
A pause.
Everyone immediately looked at Straw Hat.
"What?" he asked, blinking.
Varin sighed, already regretting this.
The cave's oppressive silence enveloped them as they continued to move deeper, the howling wind from the outside barely a distant memory. The further they traveled, the colder it grew, the air thinner and harsher. Varin's pace didn't change, his silver eyes unflinching, scanning their surroundings with a cold efficiency.
The group trailed behind him, their breath clouding in the frigid air. Straw Hat, ever the optimist, walked with a skip in his step, his eyes darting around, clearly excited at the prospect of finding something, anything, useful.
"We're gonna find some food, right?" he asked, his voice full of anticipation.
Varin's gaze flicked over his shoulder. "You're not going to like it."
The swordsman, who had been unusually quiet, suddenly spoke up again. "What kind of creatures live here, exactly?"
Varin's footsteps didn't falter, though the question seemed to dig at something deeper, something more ingrained in him. "Small. Not much bigger than a rabbit. They'll be easy to catch, but…"
"But?" Straw Hat pressed.
Varin's lips curled slightly into a wry smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I don't know if they're worth eating."
The group glanced at each other, confused. The swordsman raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
Varin's tone was clipped a sharp edge to it. "I've never eaten them."
The cook tilted his head, curious. "Why not? If you're so sure they're 'edible,' then why let them go to waste?"
Varin glanced back at him, his silver eyes briefly locking with the cook's. "Just never have."
The silence stretched between them for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in. The swordsman eyed him warily, but Varin could feel the questions bubbling underneath the surface.
But he didn't owe them an explanation. Not that they'd ever understand, anyway.
"We should keep moving," Varin said, his voice cutting through the stillness. He wasn't about to entertain their curiosity, not when they still had no idea what they were truly dealing with.
Straw Hat blinked, his excitement still brimming. "Wait, hold on, what do you mean, how do you know their edible if you've never eaten them?"
Varin didn't answer. Instead, he quickened his pace, leading them further into the heart of the cave. The further they went, the thicker the walls of ice became, the air colder, and the silence more suffocating.
But Varin remained focused, keeping an eye on their progress. They wouldn't last long in these conditions. He could feel the chill starting to take its toll on them. They were clearly unprepared for an environment like this.
They had no idea what they were up against.
After what felt like hours of walking, they reached a small alcove where the ice seemed to give way to a more natural stone formation. The air here was colder still, and the flickering lights from their torches danced unnaturally against the walls.
Varin stopped in front of a narrow passage, its opening just wide enough for one person to squeeze through. "It's up ahead," he said simply, looking over his shoulder at the group. "But the way is narrow. Stay close."
Straw Hat immediately stepped forward, looking determined. "Alright! Let's go get that food!"
The others followed suit, though they seemed less enthusiastic. The woman with the orange hair was visibly uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot, clearly cold, while the long-nosed one still clutched his slingshot, eyes darting nervously.
Varin turned back to face the dark passage ahead. "You won't find what you expect. But it's all I can offer."
The passage was tight, its icy walls slick and treacherous. But Varin didn't flinch. He moved with ease, like he had done this a thousand times before. The others struggled to keep up, their movements awkward and labored in the narrow tunnel.
Once they emerged on the other side, the air felt even colder, the temperature plummeting further as they entered a vast cavern. At the far end, glowing eyes flickered in the dark, the creatures Varin had spoken of, a whole horde of small, rodent-like creatures, their bodies sleek and coated in ice. They stared at the group, their eyes unblinking, eerily still.
"They're here," Varin said, his voice low.
Straw Hat grinned, but there was something unsettling in the way his eyes gleamed. "This is it, huh? Looks like we're about to feast!"
Varin stepped back slightly, watching as they ventured deeper into the cavern. But he didn't follow them. Instead, he leaned against the wall, his gaze scanning the creatures before them, his silver eyes blank. He wasn't interested in the hunt. Not this one anyway.
The others, however, seemed more than willing to engage.
But Varin wasn't concerned with what they did. They weren't his problem.
The cold air of the cavern seemed to intensify as the group took their positions. The wind from the outside was faint now, muffled by the stone, but the danger was unmistakable. The creatures in the cavern shifted, their eyes gleaming with hunger and aggression, their bodies twitching with the promise of a fight.
Varin leaned against the cold wall, his silver eyes narrowing as he watched them. He had no intention of getting involved. They would prove themselves capable, or die. The creatures were dangerous, but not nearly as dangerous as some of the threats on the island. And for now, they were the ones who needed to prove their worth.
The swordsman's hand gripped the hilt of his blade, the edge of the sword gleaming in the dim light as he eyed the approaching creatures. His posture was firm, his body tense with anticipation. The others positioned themselves around him, ready to face whatever came at them.
With a sudden, deafening roar, the creatures lunged forward in a disorganized, chaotic frenzy. They had no clear strategy, only raw instinct guiding them as they charged toward the intruders.
The swordsman was the first to strike, his blade flashing through the air in a perfect arc. The first creature fell, its body cleaving in two with a sickening crunch. But that didn't slow the others down. They were relentless, attacking in a flurry of movement.
The blonde reacted quickly, swinging his limbs to deflect the creature's attacks. His movements were fluid, but even he was starting to feel the weight of the constant assault. He twisted and turned, dodging the snapping jaws of the creatures, but he was being pushed back, forced to fight defensively.
The coward, his weapon at the ready, used his agility to pick off targets from a distance. He kept his distance, firing shot after shot, but the creatures were closing in on him too quickly. His strikes were still precise, but the oncoming flood of beasts made it difficult to keep up.
The woman with the staff stood her ground, blocking and striking with practiced precision. Her staff cracked against the bodies of the creatures, knocking them back with each hit. But as more and more of them crowded in, her pace slowed. She was growing tired, her breath coming in heavy pants.
Varin's eyes followed each of them, scanning their movements with disinterest. They were strong, no doubt about that. But they were outnumbered. It was only a matter of time before their stamina ran out.
The creatures were relentless, and they had the advantage of numbers. But the group fought back fiercely, every strike and blow met with retaliation from the beasts. The air was thick with the stench of sweat and blood as the fight raged on.
Varin's lips curled into a slight smirk. They were good, but they weren't invincible. The creatures, though mindless, were learning quickly. They adapted to the group's movements, shifting tactics as they began to figure out the weaknesses in the fighters' strategies.
The swordsman sliced through another creature, but the effort was starting to wear him down. His movements were slowing, his swings less fluid. The long-legged one was beginning to pant, his body drenched in sweat, his limbs heavy from the constant battle.
The woman was struggling to keep up with the swarm, her staff swinging slower, her strikes less precise.
The woman was struggling to keep up with the swarm, her staff swinging slower, her strikes less precise.
But the one with the straw hat?
He was grinning.
His limbs stretched unnaturally, whipping through the air with a speed that sent the creatures flying with each powerful swing. He wasn't just fighting, he was enjoying himself. His laughter rang through the cavern like the crack of a whip, his rubbery arms twisting and contorting as he brought them down like massive blades, cleaving through the creatures in his path.
"Ha! This is fun!" he cackled, his foot stretching outward to deliver a crushing kick that sent several creatures sprawling against the cavern walls. His fists snapped back and then shot forward again, hammering into the mass of bodies like a battering ram. He wasn't just holding his ground, he was pushing forward, his attacks relentless and chaotic, yet undeniably effective.
The long-legged one huffed, his breathing uneven as he sidestepped a lunging beast, twisting in the air to deliver a precise kick to its head. "You call this fun?!" he snapped, barely dodging another attack as he landed. "You're out of your mind!"
Straw Hat only grinned wider, his arms pulling back as if winding up for another strike. "Nah, this is just a warm-up!"
He launched himself forward, his body stretching and twisting unnaturally mid-air, dodging a set of snapping jaws before retaliating with a brutal, coiled punch that sent another creature crashing into its brethren. The force of the impact rattled the cavern walls, sending loose bits of ice and rock tumbling down.
The quiet one took advantage of the distraction, landing a precise shot between the eyes of a creature that had been lunging for the woman. She barely had time to register the near miss before swinging her staff again, smacking another beast away.
Varin stood at the edge of the battle, watching. His silver eyes flickered between the fighters, studying them, assessing their strengths. The straw hat one... he was different.
Stronger than he looked.
The way he fought, so carefree, so natural, was strange. There was no hesitation in his movements, no doubt in his strikes. He threw himself into the battle with complete trust in his abilities as if he had never once questioned his own strength.
It was absurd.
And yet... Varin found himself watching just a little longer.
The creatures, though numerous, were thinning. Their frenzied assault was beginning to waver. The unrelenting counterattacks had started to take their toll, and for the first time, hesitation crept into the beasts' movements.
The ones that remained snarled, their glowing eyes darting between the fighters. They could sense it.
They were losing.
And then, in one final, disorganized attempt, the remaining creatures surged forward, throwing themselves at the group with a last, desperate push.
Straw Hat's grin widened.
"Let's finish this!" he shouted, stretching his arms wide before twisting them together, coiling them like a giant spring. The energy in the cavern shifted, the air seeming to tighten as his body tensed.
And then,
SNAP.
His fists rocketed forward, spinning like a tornado, striking everything in their path. A whirlwind of destruction tore through the cavern, slamming into the creatures with enough force to send them flying, their bodies colliding against the ice-covered walls with sickening crunches.
When the dust and frost finally settled, silence reigned.
The creatures were down. Some twitched weakly, others didn't move at all. The battle was over.
Straw Hat straightened, shaking out his limbs as if the whole thing had been nothing more than an exciting exercise. "Whew! That was a good fight!" He beamed, looking around at the others, completely unfazed by the blood and carnage around him.
The long-legged one sighed, shaking his head. "You're insane..."
The woman let out a tired breath, steadying herself against her staff.
Varin?
He remained where he was, staring at the rubber-limbed fighter, something unreadable in his silver gaze.
Straw Hat met his stare, tilting his head slightly.
Varin's fingers flexed at his sides.
Yes... this one was different.
And for the first time in a long while, Varin felt excited
Varin's fingers twitched, his breath slow and measured. The silence in the cave was thick, only the sound of shifting bodies and the faint howling of wind from outside filling the air. His silver eyes stayed locked on the man in the straw hat, the way he carried himself, the sheer ease in which he fought, like combat was something as natural to him as breathing.
Excitement.
He had not felt it in years.
Not since he had been abandoned here. Not since he realized that this wasteland was beyond him.
But now…
He grinned, slow and deliberate, something dark flickering in his gaze.
"You," he said, at last taking a step forward.
The rubber man blinked, tilting his head in confusion. "Huh?"
Varin's movements were smooth as he rolled his shoulders, stretching out the tension. He cracked his neck, fingers flexing, his stance shifting ever so slightly, the air around him growing heavier.
"I want to fight you," he stated plainly.
The cave was dead silent.
The others stiffened at his words, tension creeping into their postures. The long-legged one tensed, shifting his weight slightly, and the woman's fingers gripped her staff tighter, her eyes narrowing with distrust.
The rubber one, however,
He grinned.
"Sure."
His crew immediately snapped their heads toward him.
"What?!" the long-legged one barked.
"Are you insane?!" the woman gaped at him, eyes wide.
The straw hat-wearing man ignored them, stepping forward with a wide, carefree smile as if the idea of fighting a man they had just met in the middle of a frozen wasteland was the most normal thing in the world.
"But," he added, raising a finger, "only if you join my crew."
Silence.
Dead silence.
His crew looked as if they had been struck by lightning.
Varin stared.
And then,
He laughed.
A low chuckle at first, then something more, something deeper, until the sound bounced off the cavern walls, sharp and wild, his head tilting back slightly as his shoulders shook with the force of it.
He hadn't expected that.
Not in the slightest.
His laughter faded into something quieter, an amused smirk lingering on his lips as he looked at the man in front of him, considering his words.
Join his crew?
How ridiculous.
How absolutely, unbelievably absurd.
And yet…
Varin's fingers curled slightly, the anticipation of battle thrumming through his veins. He had nothing here. No reason to stay.
If he won, he could do whatever he wanted.
If he lost,
Well, that wouldn't happen.
His grin widened.
"Fine." His voice was low, edged with something almost dangerous. "If you can beat me, I'll entertain the idea."
Straw Hat's grin was blinding.
"Deal."
The air in the cave shifted.
The temperature had always been cold, but now it felt sharp, cutting, a weight pressing down on the space between them as the two stood face to face.
The rubber man's grin stretched wider, his fingers flexing at his sides, body loose, relaxed, but Varin wasn't fooled. He had seen how he moved, how he fought those creatures without hesitation, how his limbs stretched unnaturally, swinging with the force of a hammer.
Unnatural.
Interesting.
Varin exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders, feeling the familiar burn in his muscles, the long-dormant anticipation of combat waking up like a beast roused from slumber. It had been too long. Too long since he had fought something other than the mindless creatures of this wasteland. Too long since he had an opponent that could push back.
The others had stepped away, some more warily than others, but none of them tried to stop it. They had protested at first, but they must have realized, there was no stopping this.
The rubber man's stance shifted slightly, knees bending, the faintest ripple of movement in his body.
Varin moved first.
A blur.
A shadow in the cold.
His foot barely touched the ground before he surged forward, the cave walls blurring past as he closed the distance, his arm snapping out, fingers curled into a fist aimed straight for his opponent's chest.
A solid hit,
Or it should have been.
Instead, the man's body bent.
No, it stretched.
Like striking something that refused to break.
Varin's silver eyes flickered in amusement, even as he felt his own momentum suddenly shift. The rubber man had grabbed his arm mid-swing, grinning like this was the most fun he'd had all day.
"Gotcha."
And then he pulled.
Varin's feet barely touched the ground before he was yanked forward with force, the sudden shift in motion something unfamiliar, something disorienting. A fist came swinging toward him, stretched too far to be natural, and Varin barely twisted his body in time to avoid the strike.
The rubber man laughed.
The sound was wild, carefree, excited.
Good.
Varin's lips curled.
The fight had only just begun.
The air cracked with movement, snow-dusted stone trembling beneath their feet as Varin twisted mid-motion, breaking free from the rubber man's grip with a sudden burst of force. His boots barely slid against the cave floor before he shifted again, pivoting sharply, body coiling like a predator sizing up its prey.
And then,
A flicker of movement.
His fingers, once normal, twitched and curled, elongating.
The others saw it immediately.
The woman with the staff stiffened, eyes narrowing in sharp suspicion. The swordsman tensed, his grip tightening on his blades. The long-nosed one let out a choked noise, scrambling slightly back, though whether from caution or outright fear, Varin didn't know.
Even the rubber man, still grinning, hesitated.
Varin flexed his fingers, watching with faint amusement as his nails darkened, and lengthened, shifting into something more akin to claws than hands. Not quite bestial, but no longer fully human either. A subtle shift. A sign of something deeper lurking beneath his skin.
It had been a long time since he used even this much of his Devil Fruit.
The cave was silent for half a breath.
Then,
"WHOA! That's so cool!"
The rubber man's grin widened, eyes practically sparkling with excitement. He didn't look worried. He didn't look wary.
If anything, he looked thrilled.
The tension that had briefly settled over the others shattered instantly.
"Cool!?" the long-nosed one sputtered, gesturing wildly. "Did you see that!? His hands just changed! That's not normal! That's not normal at all!"
The swordsman let out a grunt, barely reacting. The woman with the staff, however, was still watching closely, her expression unreadable.
Varin ignored them.
He flexed his claws again, feeling the familiar power hum beneath his skin, waiting. He hadn't meant to let them shift, but the fight, the sheer thrill of an opponent like this, had stirred something in him. A reminder of what his body could do. What it was.
The rubber man still hadn't moved.
Instead, he cocked his head, curious. "What kinda power is that?"
Varin exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "Does it matter?"
The rubber man just laughed. "Nope!"
And then he launched himself forward.
A blur of motion.
His fist came swinging toward Varin, stretching impossibly far, fast enough to send a sharp gust of wind tearing through the cave.
Varin didn't dodge.
Instead,
He met it.
Claws clashed against rubber flesh, the impact cracking through the cavern like a thunderclap. The force of it sent snow cascading from the cave ceiling, loose icicles shattering as they fell.
Neither of them gave ground.
The fight was far from over.
The moment his claws connected, they tore through flesh.
Not just a scratch. Not just a graze.
Real damage.
Deep, jagged gashes carved across the rubber man's stretched-out arm, dark red welling up almost instantly. It wasn't lethal, not yet, but it was definitely enough to make him stagger, enough to make his wild grin falter for just a second.
Varin saw it. Felt it.
And something inside him thrilled.
For the first time in years, his claws had drawn real blood from someone.
The rubber man let out a sharp breath, shaking out his injured arm. His grin returned, wilder, sharper. "Whoa," he muttered, flexing his fingers as blood dripped onto the icy floor. "That's new."
He didn't look scared.
He looked excited.
Varin's silver eyes gleamed, his breath curling in the cold air. "Still think this is fun, pirate?"
The rubber man's stance shifted, his feet spreading wider. "Yeah." He rolled his shoulder, his injured arm snapping back into place with a wet pop. "But now I really wanna win."
And then he came at him.
Faster than before, his stretched limbs snapping through the air like whips, unpredictable and relentless. A storm of fists, each one powerful enough to send a normal man flying.
Varin barely dodged the first few. He twisted, weaving through the barrage with practiced ease, his instincts razor-sharp. But then,
One hit landed.
A full-force punch to the side, slamming into him like a cannonball.
He felt the impact rattle through his bones. His feet scraped against the stone, but he didn't go down.
Instead, he grinned.
And slashed.
His claws lashed out like a blur, catching the rubber man's side deep. Blood splattered onto the ice.
The rubber man grunted, more out of surprise than pain, but he didn't stop.
Instead, he pivoted, using his stretched-out momentum to swing himself around, his foot snapping toward Varin's head with frightening speed.
Varin blocked, just barely.
His arm took the full force of the kick, the impact sending a shockwave through his entire body. He felt his feet slide back across the stone, claws scraping against the frozen ground.
For a moment, the two stood apart, breathing hard, blood dripping onto the cave floor.
The rubber man wiped at his lip where a claw had nicked him, smearing red across his cheek. His grin hadn't faded. If anything, it was bigger.
Varin exhaled slowly, his claws flexing, the metallic scent of blood thick in the air.
Yeah.
He'd decided.
He wanted to fight this man again.
And he wanted to win.
The battle raged on, a relentless clash of speed, strength, and sheer determination. Neither of them held back now.
The rubber man launched himself forward, twisting in midair, his leg stretching impossibly long,
"Gum Gum… Whip!"
Varin barely had time to react. He threw up his arms as the attack came crashing down, the force sending a shockwave through the cave. Ice cracked beneath his feet, the sheer impact making his knees buckle slightly.
But he didn't fall.
Instead, he twisted, his claws flashing,
SLASH!
A fresh set of cuts tore across the rubber man's torso, but instead of backing down, he laughed.
"That all you got?"
Varin's silver eyes narrowed. This pirate, this man, was still grinning, still treating this like some grand adventure, despite the blood dripping from his wounds.
Varin's grin widened, he liked this man but he wasn't done yet.
He surged forward, faster than before, his claws aiming straight for the pirate's chest, only for his opponent to bend in an impossible way, dodging at the last second.
Then,
"Gum Gum Pistol!"
A stretched-out fist rocketed toward him at breakneck speed.
Varin dodged, almost.
The punch grazed his shoulder, but the force still sent him skidding back, boots scraping against the frozen ground.
They clashed again, the impact of their blows sending shockwaves through the cavern. The rubber man twisted midair, his stretched-out leg swinging down like a hammer. Varin barely dodged, the force cracking the stone beneath him.
Varin retaliated instantly, lunging forward with a burst of speed. His claws lashed out in a blur, meeting the rubber man's forearm as it shot up to block. The impact sent the pirate skidding back, boots scraping against the cold rock.
He grinned. "You're pretty good!"
Varin didn't respond. His silver eyes narrowed as he lunged again, shifting to the side at the last moment. His foot slammed into the pirate's ribs, sending him flying into the cavern wall.
The rubber man let out a grunt, rolling with the impact before springing back to his feet, unfazed. "That all you got?"
Varin clicked his tongue. This guy was relentless.
They charged at each other again, trading blows at a relentless pace. Varin ducked a stretched-out punch, slashing at the rubber man's side. The pirate twisted, his torso bending unnaturally as the claws missed by a hair. His counterattack came fast, an elbow straight to Varin's gut.
Varin coughed, stumbling back. The rubber man didn't let up, spinning with his momentum to deliver a kick to Varin's jaw. Varin managed to block with his forearm, but the force sent him sliding back.
He wiped his mouth, glancing at the fresh cut on his arm where a stray strike had landed. The rubber man was grinning again, chest heaving but eyes still alight with energy.
And then, somewhere between the dodging, the countering, the exchanging of attacks that neither side could land cleanly—
Varin realized something.
This fight wasn't going anywhere.
The pirate was still standing, still grinning, still meeting every attack with his own. And so was Varin.
For all the wounds they'd inflicted, neither had slowed. Neither had faltered. Neither had a clear edge over the other.
It was a deadlock.
They both knew.
Their last clash came fast and brutal, Varin's claws against the rubber man's fist, both refusing to yield. Then, just as quickly as they had begun, they broke apart, each stepping back.
They stared each other down, both panting, both marked with fresh wounds. The rubber man's arm snapped back into place, and Varin flexed his fingers, the tips of his claws slick with red.
The rubber man wiped the blood from his chin, tilting his head. "Huh. Guess we're tied."
Varin exhaled, shaking his head, but there was the ghost of a smirk on his lips. "Tch. Annoying."
The rubber man just laughed. "That means I win, right?"
Varin's eyes flashed. "That's not how ties work."
"Sure it is."
A long silence stretched between them, only broken by the sound of the wind howling outside the cave.
The rubber man finally stood straight, stretching out his arms like he hadn't just fought with everything he had. "So, that means you're joining my crew, right?"
Varin stared.
"…What?"
The woman with the staff groaned. The swordsman pinched the bridge of his nose. The long-nosed one looked like he was about to faint.
But the rubber man was completely serious.
He grinned wider, holding out a hand.
"Come on. You're strong. You'd fit right in."
Varin looked at him. At the blood staining both of them. At the reckless, stupid, utterly insane pirate who he had just tried to rip apart, only for him to turn around and offer him a place on his ship like it was nothing.
He should say no.
He should.
And yet,
He found himself hesitating.
Varin's silver eyes gleamed in the dim cave light, his breath steady despite the exhaustion settling into his limbs. He stared at the outstretched hand, at the ridiculous grin plastered on the pirate's face.
His fingers twitched.
"Why?" His voice was low, almost unreadable. "You know nothing about me. Nothing about what I've done. What I am. You don't even know my name."
The rubber man's grin didn't waver. If anything, it got wider.
"Then tell me!" he said without hesitation. "What's your name?"
Varin blinked, caught slightly off guard by the directness. He studied the pirate for a long moment, the unwavering confidence in his expression, the sheer lack of hesitation. Finally, he exhaled through his nose.
"Varin."
The pirate's grin stretched impossibly wide. "I'm Monkey D Luffy!" he declared, jabbing a thumb at his chest. "And now we're friends!"
Varin tilted his head. "...What?"
Luffy nodded enthusiastically as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Yeah! We know each other's names now, so we're friends! And that means you gotta join my crew!"
Varin let out a slow, humorless chuckle. "Is that so?"
"Yup!" Luffy said without missing a beat.
The woman groaned, dragging a hand down her face. "Are you serious right now?"
The swordsman sighed, sheathing his blade. "You really have no sense of caution, do you?"
The long-nosed one pointed an accusatory finger at Varin. "You do realize this guy literally just tried to claw you apart, right?! Like, five seconds ago! Why are you acting like we're recruiting him?!"
Luffy ignored them, still watching Varin expectantly.
Varin crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. "And if I refuse?"
"Then we fight again until you don't refuse!" Luffy was completely serious.
Varin scoffed. "You're persistent. Annoyingly so."
"Yup!"
There was a long pause. The wind howled through the entrance of the cave, the dying groans of the fallen creatures fading into the frozen air.
Varin exhaled through his nose, tilting his head. "And if I say yes?"
"Then we get to eat!" Luffy beamed. "And you get to come on the adventure of a lifetime!"
Varin went silent.
An adventure.
He had been alone on this island for years, the cold his only company, the endless storm his only world. He had fought, survived, and endured, but he had never lived.
He didn't trust them. Not yet.
But…
His gaze flickered to Luffy's hand, still extended, unwavering.
Maybe, just maybe, this could be interesting.
Varin lifted his hand, pausing for a fraction of a second as he noticed the size difference—his was considerably larger than Luffy's. The hesitation was brief, almost imperceptible, before his fingers finally closed around the outstretched hand.
"...Fine."