Near the foggy eastern shores of Moon Rock Island, the stillness of morning was broken by the creak of a wooden hull slicing through water. A massive blue ship approached, its sails billowing proudly beneath a jolly roger etched with a skull flanked by two lightning bolts.
From a smaller brown and black ship anchored ahead, a voice rang out:
"That's quite far enough! You're trespassing on the territory of the Sea King Pirates! State your business or face the wrath of our crew!"
Aboard the Blue Storm Pirates' flagship, one of the crew stepped up from the observation deck, his voice urgent.
"Captain, we've got incoming. A crew claiming to be the Sea King Pirates is posturing on the waterline. What should we do?"
The man speaking was known to the crew as Trump Woods.
A low chuckle echoed as a figure emerged from below deck, his presence silencing the murmurs. His grin was sharp, and his eyes glinted with dangerous curiosity.
"Hehe… So Hercule, are you sure this is the island? Wouldn't want to start the day wrecking some upstarts if we didn't have to."
Leaning lazily against the railing stood Hercule Haunts, the ship's Vice-Captain, unimpressed but calm.
"Yeah yeah, I'm sure this is the one. At least, that's what Sparks and Fiona reported. Their info's solid."
"And the ship?" the Captain asked, voice flat but expectant.
"Stan's on it. He looked pissed, but it's probably nothing," Hercule replied, shrugging.
***
On the brown-and-black ship, chaos had already begun. A lone man stood amid the bruised and the unconscious, his blood boiling with frustration.
"Damn you, Hercule! You told me this was the Captain's order when he didn't even issue one!" he roared into the telecom band. "These bastards weren't even worth it. You should've sent the weaker crewmates!"
Stanley Buff, one of the commanding officers as well as the crew's Helmsman, clicked the device off in irritation. His sand-crafted stairs rose beneath his feet as he climbed toward the Blue Storm's ship.
Hercule's voice crackled over the line.
"Don't put this on me, Stan. You're the one obsessed with being on time. I just sped things up."
Stanley sighed, forcing down the irritation.
"Speaking of being on time, how are the others? Captain's got places to be. Have you heard from them?"
"Nope, which means they're not done. But I'm sure it's fine. Just relax a bit."
***
Up on a rocky hill overlooking a white-brick mansion near the island's center, five figures observed their target in silence.
"Hey, Zephyr… There are quite a lot of people in there. Are we sure this is safe? There could be civilians," said a cautious voice.
Sparks Burns, his katana in a red sheath, looked uneasy.
"No need to worry," answered Fiona Frost, perched on a chunk of ice. Her pale skin glimmered under the morning light. "That captain doesn't allow civilians inside while he's around. We're clear... I think."
From beside them, a voice barked with excitement.
"That means we can trash the place, right Zeph? Captain's orders are captain's orders!"
It was Blaze Inferno, smoke spewing from his lips, fists already aflame.
"You moron!" growled Tony Shore, the largest of the five. He raised a fist to knock some sense into Blaze. "We're here to drive them out, not kill them—unless it's by accident. Got that?"
"Argh, enough nagging already," muttered Zephyr Gust, hands in his pockets, his gaze locked on the mansion with disdain. "Let's deal with this so I don't have to hear another Stanley lecture."
Fiona stood, her ice melting away.
"So, what's the strategy?"
Zephyr didn't look at her as he spoke.
"Sparks, Fiona—you take the rear. Tony, stay here and watch for runners. Blaze—you're with me. Front entrance. Cover me."
"Roger!!" came the chorus of agreement as they sprang into action.
Blaze knocked down the mansion's entrance in a single blow, his fists blazing.
"Sorry, forgot to knock," he smirked, storming through the startled defenders.
"We've been compromised! Get out of the mansion, hurry!" someone screamed.
"The back door's blocked! What's going on?!" another cried.
From the crowd, a horrified gasp rang out.
"No… it can't be. That's Sparks Burns and Fiona Frost!"
"If that's true… then…" a trembling man whispered.
"We're being attacked by the BLUE STORM PIRATES!! We're dead meat!" the enemy captain panicked, frozen with dread.
"Fire Craft: STAR GLAZE SLASH!" Sparks shouted as his katana released a crescent blaze, sweeping through the crowd.
"Now, Fiona!"
"Ice Craft: WINTER GARDEN."
Roses and thorny vines of frost erupted around Fiona, freezing attackers mid-stride, locking them in a silent, icy bloom.
"Tony," Fiona said over the telecom, "some slipped out the side."
"Earth Craft: STONE PILLARS DESCENT!" Tony responded. Rock spires fell like judgment from above, striking down the fleeing survivors as he held position on a lower hill .
Inside, the mansion began to tremble.
"Blaze!" Zephyr called out.
"Fire Craft: DRAGON'S ASH CLOUD!" Blaze bellowed, black smoke pouring from his mouth to fill the lower floors, blinding the enemies.
Now hovering over the haze, Zephyr unleashed his finishing move.
"Wind Craft: DISASTROUS TYPHOON!"
A howling sphere of wind grew around him, expanding violently and collapsing the building in a roar of dust and ruin.
From the hill, Tony sighed.
"So much for not wreckin' the place…"
The other officers gathered beside him as Zephyr emerged from the dust, cloak fluttering.
***
Back aboard the ship, chaos resumed.
"You have any idea how much you've screwed up our schedule?!" Stanley roared, grabbing Zephyr by the collar. "And now we've got the Navy on our backs thanks to your recklessness!"
The officers looked anywhere but at him.
"Oh come on, Stanley," a gentle voice intervened.
Flora Bush, the crew's medic, stepped forward. "They got the job done, didn't they? All this yelling's just burning more time."
Stanley grumbled, releasing Zephyr.
"Damn it, Flora… you're right. I'll deal with them later."
Turning to the helm, he called over his shoulder, "So, Captain—who exactly are we meeting? Why this island?"
The Captain rose slowly from his seat, stretching.
"Some crime syndicate apparently owns the place. But that's just rumor. Our destination's already decided." He grinned.
"Alright gang, set sail for Crosshill Island!"
"AY AY, CAPTAIN CHRONO!" the crew chorused.
***
Meanwhile, on the Moon Rock City shores, a Navy officer made his call.
Bzzt.
"Navy Headquarters, come in. Anyone there? Pick up already…"
Kenneth Sunburn adjusted his coat.
"Yes, Commodore Sunburn. Have you confirmed the whereabouts of Chrono Nimbus and his crew?"
"They're headed to Crosshill Island," Kenneth responded. "Probably to meet the others."
"Understood. I'll inform the higher-ups. Over and out." Bzzt.
At Navy Headquarters, Captain Bunny Chance stood before a grand door that read: Fleet Admiral's Office.
"Fleet Admiral, this is Bunny Chance. We've got an update on the Misfits' whereabouts."
"Come on in," a voice answered.
Inside were three men. One lay sprawled on the couch, flipping through a magazine.
"Hey Bunny. Don't give me that weird look again, it freaks me out," said Admiral Carlos Cloud, the Lightning Mage.
Another greeted her with a warm but unnerving smile.
"Ah, welcome Bunny. By chance, have you heard from my daughter? I'm starting to worry. Are you hiding any letters from me?"
Admiral Cliff Faust, Earth Pilgrim and master of polite menace.
"Enough with the fake smiles, creep," barked Fleet Admiral Strange Loud, the Sky Knight. "Let's focus."
Bunny saluted.
"We've confirmed that all Twelve Misfits are headed to Crosshill."
Carlos waved a hand.
"Just send a Rear Admiral to deal with it or something."
"They're all occupied. But we do need to gauge their threat level. Anyone lower than Captain would be overwhelmed," said Strange.
Cliff grinned.
"Then let's use the inmates. Tell them if they bring in a Misfit, their sentence gets reduced. Win-win. If they win, we win. If they lose… well, less prisoners to worry about."
"I agree with Cliff!" Carlos added, clearly not listening.
"You weren't even paying attention, dumbass," Strange snapped.
Bunny hesitated.
"Sir, I don't think this is—"
"Enough. Pick inmates with around ten years left. Get it done," Strange commanded.
"Right away, sir." Bunny left with a salute.
***
At Crosshill Island, the Blue Storm Pirates arrived under cover of clouds. Chrono and Hercule disembarked first.
"Stanley, you and the officers sweep the area for Navy ships. Everyone else, hold the line," Chrono ordered.
In a massive building at the island's center, the two men stood before heavy doors.
"You're late, Mr. Nimbus. Mr. Klaus will not be pleased," warned the doorman.
"Thanks for the warning, old man. I'll manage," Chrono muttered as the doors opened.
Hercule followed hesitantly.
Inside, Chrono found himself surrounded by spears of sand.
"You're late," boomed a man at the end of the table. "Trevor was here before you. Embarrassing."
"Come on Klaus, I had complications in Moon Rock City," Chrono chuckled awkwardly.
"Enough," said a deep voice as the doorman stepped inside.
Jason Fuel looked across the room.
"You're setting a poor example for your attendants. Let's get started."
Klaus released Chrono with a grunt.
Jason stood tall.
"Ahem. Welcome to Crosshill Palace. Now presenting… THE TWELVE MISFITS."
Whispers erupted. The attendants were stunned—these feared figures weren't a myth. They were in the same room.
"Cap... what is he talking about?" Hercule asked. "Why did he call you guys the Misfits?"
Chrono didn't turn.
"No interruptions, Hercule. Let the old man finish."
Jason began.
> Seat Twelve: Viktor Bones & Lucy Chestwood.
Seat Eleven: Trevor Tempest & Crash Parker.
Seat Ten: Noelle Hex & Buff Crust.
Seat Nine: Cash Phantom & Sandra Lint.
Seat Eight: Flare Vermillion & Kate Wintertide.
Seat Seven: Chrono Nimbus & Hercule Haunts.
Seat Six: Hazel White & Clara Shaw.
Seat Five: Rose Woodlot & Hank Cyclone.
Seat Four: Freeman Don Mafia & Raphael Graphite.
Seat Three: Prince Glacier & Bill Stones.
Seat Two: Klaus Cinders & Ash Burns.
Seat One: Marcus Grill & Ray Specter.
"And with that, you may begin."
***
High above in a Navy aircraft, Captain Lance Deep scratched his head as he stood before a dozen chained inmates.
"Captain Deep, we've reached the drop point. Orders?"
"Huh? What was that?" Lance shouted over the engine.
"Your hearing aid, sir!" an officer yelled.
"Oh, right. Drop the inmates. Make sure their trackers are on."
In the back, one inmate grinned beneath shaggy hair.
"All Twelve Misfits in one place, huh? It's about damn time. I'm coming for you, Freeman Don Mafia."