[Mad Hat Island, Year 1511]
In the darkest corner of the northern auction house of Mad Hat Island, in a windowless, stifling room, Elyndra sat slumped against a cold stone wall. Her hands and feet were still shackled, though the chains were now looser than before. The status of "exclusive item" once placed upon her had been revoked. No more tight security. No more golden chains to mark her as "premium."
Only the remnants of a crushed dignity remained.
Once, whenever the door to this room creaked open, the other slaves around her would bow their heads in fear. But Elyndra never did. Even now, despite her starvation-thinned frame and days of despair, her eyes still burned. Not with hope—but with fury.
With vengeance.
"They'll all burn."
That was the single promise she whispered into the dark, over and over again. A prayer spoken in silence.
For weeks, the auction house traders had been murmuring about what to do with her next. Elyndra had become too "hot" to be sold in a public auction—but that didn't mean they couldn't make a profit.
"Madam Vellora in the red district is ready to take her," one guard whispered to another not long ago.
"Shame, really. She's beautiful—but too stubborn. And those eyes... so irritating."
"Eyes like that should be broken. Or sold to someone who knows how to break them slowly."
The words made Elyndra want to retch. But she only spat on the ground and stared blankly at the darkness above. If she was to be dragged even further into the abyss, then she would make sure someone else was dragged with her.
She closed her eyes and remembered her family—her father's laughter as they sailed together, her mother reading her books before bed, the servants who had become like relatives. All gone. Torn apart by pirates. And the world had simply watched.
"To dwell in sin is itself a crime."
That was what she believed now. There was no room for gentleness anymore. No space for mercy. The world had erased her from its pages—and she would write her vengeance back in blood.
New slaves were brought into the room. They were younger than her. Children—some even smaller than Arthur. They cried, trembling, begging for someone—anyone—to help.
Elyndra stared at them for a long moment, then slowly turned her face away.
Don't look at me as if I can save you. I can't even save myself.
And yet, even as she thought that, something within her trembled. Not with softness—but with terror. The terror that one day, these children would become just like her. Shattered. Scarred. Bound—but unbroken.
"One day," she whispered, barely audible, "we'll all be free. But the world must burn first."
---
Meanwhile, far from the darkness of the auction house, aboard a small Navy vessel sailing across the West Blue, a young lieutenant stood upright, facing a transponder snail.
The voice from the snail was cold and rigid. "Confirm again. You said two pirates with bounties over 80 million are converging on Mad Hat Island?"
"Yes, sir," the lieutenant replied briskly. "Ruhk the Butcher Fang and Lesley the Serpent Smile. Intelligence from our spy network suggests they intend to seize control of the island. A gang war is imminent."
A pause followed.
Then the voice returned, this time heavier. "...Mad Hat has been a nest of crime for two decades. Perhaps it's time to erase it from the map. Send a full report to headquarters. We'll mobilize a force."
The lieutenant nodded. "Understood, sir."
The line clicked off.
The lieutenant turned his gaze toward the horizon. In the distance, seagulls circled above the waves. The sky was beginning to darken.
War was coming. And justice—though long delayed—would descend from the heavens in flame.