Chapter Text
The air from the east carried a hint of smoke. The acrid taint of bubbling tar followed soon after, then the oily reek of canvas being consumed and stuttered cries on the wind. The lusty red glow at the horizon was unmistakable. Under a violet night sky marbled with stars, a ship was dying.
Zoro stood at the lip of the crow’s nest, one hand finding its way to a hilt as he counted the dark shapes. The taste of ash was thick on his tongue when he reached for the bell.
All hands! it rang. To arms! it called.