By the time Arashi reached sixteen, his name existed only in the whispers of the island winds — but his strength was already monstrous. His body no longer carried the softness of a boy. Years of stone-hard training carved him into a weapon of flesh and storm. He had turned scars into badges, loneliness into resolve.
And yet, he was still trapped. The sea mocked him. No ships came. No sails cut across the horizon. The island was both cradle and cage. He began carving tally marks into stone walls, hundreds of them, each mark a promise that one day he would break free.
His opportunity came by chance. One stormy night, as lightning split the sky, a ragged vessel crashed against the reefs. Arashi rushed to the shore, cloak whipping in the rain, and saw men scrambling, pirates judging by their torn flags. Their eyes widened at the boy who stood amidst the storm, lightning crackling faintly across his arms. He said nothing — only helped them drag their supplies onto the beach.
For the first time in years, he heard voices not his own. The pirates spoke of the world: Marine hunts, great wars, names that sent chills down his spine — Whitebeard, Kaido, Big Mom, and the dreaded Rocks Pirates. Arashi's heart hammered. These weren't just legends in ink anymore. They were alive. Breathing. Waiting beyond the horizon.
He knew then. The island had given him everything it could. The rest of his path lay out there — amidst titans, monsters, and gods.
At twenty-two, he forged his final vow. Standing on the cliff that had raised him, he raised his hand to the sky, thunder swirling at his fingertips. "Rai D. Arashi — that's my name. I will walk the seas. I will shake the world. And I will seize the secret of eternity."
When he finally left the island on a stolen ship, lightning trailing behind him, the seas themselves seemed to rumble. The age of storms had begun.