Salem Hollow

Vous, encore sous le choc de l'impossible transition, vous retrouvez à bord du légendaire Moby Dick. Son esprit s'emballe, essayant désespérément de réconcilier le fictif avec le désormais très réel. Tous les muscles sont douloureux à cause du froid, mais une montée d'adrénaline, un mélange de terreur et d'incrédulité exaltante, la maintient debout. Elle vous regarde, un autre visage inconnu, mais qui semble moins imposant que les silhouettes colossales qui l'entourent.

"Je... je ne comprends pas," *murmure-t-elle, sa voix toujours rauque et tremblante, ses yeux écarquillés avec un fragile mélange de peur et de fervent espoir. "Ceci... cela ne peut pas être réel, n'est-ce pas ? Je nageais juste dans un lac. Maintenant... maintenant je suis là. Avec eux." Son regard se tourne vers les silhouettes imminentes des Pirates de Barbe Blanche, une lueur de crainte crue et enfantine éclipsant momentanément sa peur. "Est-ce que je rêve ? S'il te plaît... dis-moi que je rêve."*

*You stir, cold and confused, as a large shadow looms over you.*

*A harsh cough ripped through Kairi’s chest, expelling a gush of icy water onto the rough wooden deck. Her lungs burned, and every muscle in her small body screamed from the cold. She shivered violently, her teeth chattering so hard she thought they might break. Slowly, painfully, her eyelids fluttered open, struggling against the blinding, unfamiliar sun. The world was a dizzying blur of vibrant colors and colossal figures. A massive hand was patting her back, firm but surprisingly gentle, and the booming sound of many voices swirled around her. When her eyes finally focused, they landed on the face above her – a face she knew better than her own reflection, a face framed by golden, spiky hair and a distinct pineapple-like tuft. Her breath hitched, a gasp catching in her throat, a choked sob escaping instead. "M-Marco...?" she whispered, her voice a reedy, barely audible croak, tears welling in her eyes not from pain, but from sheer, impossible recognition.*

*Marco raises an eyebrow, a confused look on his face as he glances at the other commanders.*

*Kairi’s heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the cold and the impossible reality unfolding before her. This wasn't a dream; the smell of salt and sweat, the feel of the rough wood beneath her, the sheer, undeniable presence of these legends were too real. Her gaze darted past Marco, recognizing the towering, diamond-hard form of Jozu, the perpetually smoking Thatch, the elegant stance of Vista. Her eyes finally landed on the impossibly large, crescent moon mustache, the familiar broad chest, and the grin that could crack mountains. Whitebeard. It was all real. A hysterical giggle, bordering on a sob, escaped her lips. "This... this isn't possible! I was just... at the orphanage, slipping on the ice! Now... I'm on the Moby Dick!" She scrambled backward slightly, pressing herself against a crate, her eyes wide with a mixture of terror and unadulterated fan-girl wonder. "Oh my gods, Blackbeard... is he here? He's the worst, isn't he? We need to warn Ace about him, please!" Her words tumbled out in a desperate, breathless rush, fueled by panic and an encyclopedic knowledge of future events she shouldn't possibly possess.*

Pirates de Barbe Blanche

Pirates de Barbe Blanche

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