The pirate ship sliced through the clouds, damp sea-air brushing their faces, mist clinging to their skin. Tiny droplets gathered on Hancock's eyelashes. For a moment the world seemed grey and hazy — then, just as quickly, the clouds parted and the vast sky-island appeared beneath them. The sunset painted the horizon in deep amber, an endless sea of orange clouds shimmering before their eyes.
"Wow! Rolan-sama, is this heaven?" Hancock's eyes glowed, her grip firm on Rolan's arm.
Behind her, a chorus of awed whispers rose among the female warriors.
"Is this really the sky-island of Lord Rolan?"
"Are there truly islands floating above the clouds?"
"Could clouds hold up land like this?"
"Impossible…"
Rolan didn't answer. The concept of a kingdom among the clouds was incredible enough. He knew words would stir disbelief — only sight could convince.
He guided the ship with calm precision, as if steering across sea waves. Wherever the vessel passed, ripples of sea-clouds rolled beneath the hull. Soon, a majestic archipelago revealed itself: islands floating among clouds, their outlines sharp against the dying light.
"This…" someone whispered.
"This is Sky Island?"
"This is Rolan's kingdom?"
"How magnificent."
Rolan activated his "Super Heart Net." Through its power he 'saw' bustling construction across the islands: buildings, walkways, towers rising among the clouds.
"Welcome," he said, voice low, "I will show you around Sky Island."
The crowd blinked, rubbing their eyes, shifting between the clouds beneath and the islands looming ahead — only then did they realize they truly hovered above sky.
Even Hancock's wide eyes flickered, stunned.
"L-Lord Rolan, is this… your country?" she asked in a trembling voice.
Rolan reached out and ruffled her hair gently. "Of course. This is our country."
At the word our, Hancock's cheeks turned as red as the evening sky. For a heartbeat, Rolan felt the slight skip of his own heart.
Nearby, Sandersonia spoke suddenly, voice trembling: "Are… are we dead?"
Fear rippled among the warriors. Many looked down, expecting sea.
Rolan's lips curved into a cold smile. He was about to respond when a booming voice echoed across the clouds:
"Who goes there? This is the territory of Sky Nation — unauthorized personnel must register before entry!"
Before any guard could draw a sword, a massive ancient pterosaur landed hard on the deck of the ship. Every pair of eyes widened.
"So fast!" someone gasped.
Most of them froze — only Hancock and Rolan reacted. The creature roared once; then it shifted, transforming into a human form, kneeling before them.
"Welcome home, King."
Hancock's voice dropped. "This is an Animal-type Devil Fruit… an Ancient Zoan!"
Shock filled the air. None of them had ever imagined such a thing.
Sandersonia, still in shock, morphed into a giant python, ready to strike. Venom dripped from her fangs, melting a hole through the deck.
But Rolan raised a hand. Calm, indifferent. The pterosaur-man bowed lower.
"Wyper, these are our guests," Rolan said plainly.
Wyper looked each of them over, his gaze sharp. In Rolan's previous world, Wyper was almost as strong as the greatest swordsmen — with a Devil Fruit and Haki training, he had risen to near-Admiral level.
Wyper met Rolan's eyes.
He bowed again. "Welcome, King."
Even Wyper could not discern Rolan's true strength — his Observation Haki faltered in the face of the unknown.
Silently, Rolan turned back to the group. "I only passed by to return, and to bring Hancock and the others to the place where we will live."
Wyper nodded, transforming back into pterosaur form and flying off toward the sky-island.
Rolan motioned. The ship rose quietly, sailing above clouds toward Sky Island. As they approached, the others saw wonders: sprawling schools filled with youthful faces, a hall of justice, research buildings — signs of civilization the likes of which they had never seen.
Hancock tilted her head. "Rolan-sama, what is this place?"
He explained softly. "This is where children of Sky Nation learn — writing, combat, farming, Haki training."
Eyes widened among his audience. They had never imagined such systematic learning existed. Rolan's plan was clear: build a strong future.
They toured more of the island: research centers, governing halls, buildings for development. Everywhere, citizens went about their lives — calm, content, smiling. Guards greeted Rolan respectfully; he responded without pomp or arrogance.
When they docked at the central shrine square, a guard approached. "King, we welcome you home."
Rolan simply helped him up with a wave.
"Welcome home."
The guard looked at Hancock. Confusion flickered.
"King, who is this woman?" he asked.
Hancock stood next to Rolan, serene. "I am Rolan's wife."
Shock cracked across the guard's face.
"Then… what of Nami-san? Robin-san? Lina-san?" he demanded.
Rolan said nothing.
Tf you mean. He thought.
A cold gust of wind brushed the plaza — and something about it cut deeper than words.
Silence spread, heavy as the clouds above.
_____
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