The Storm Pirates

Fire and Ash

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As Thatch lay comfortably in his bed, enveloped by the warmth of his covers, he found solace in the symphony of the thunderstorm that raged relentlessly outside his window, a tempestuous dance orchestrated by the mighty Moby Dick. Each rumble of thunder echoed through the room, reverberating in his chest, while the rhythmic rocking of the ship mimicked the ebb and flow of the colossal waves that crashed against its hull.

Imagining the vast expanse of the treacherous sea beyond, Thatch couldn't help but be grateful for his position as a commander, exempted from the daunting responsibility of taking a lookout shift. His heart brimmed with sympathy for the unfortunate souls who, despite the fierce weather, were obligated to venture out into the unforgiving elements. As the wind howled and rain battered against the windows, Thatch couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the safety and comfort his rank afforded him, shielding him from the tumultuous wrath of nature's fury.

As he leisurely shifted onto his side, his gaze fell upon the chest that rested enchantingly upon his meticulously arranged desk. Though uncertainty lingered within him regarding the nature of the devil fruit concealed within, his curiosity had led him to consult a select few individuals from the esteemed ninth division.

These learned brothers, well-versed in the exhaustive study of the diverse fruits, had opined with a degree of certainty that this particular one harbored the formidable power of darkness. Yet, an overwhelming conviction gnawed at his core, dissuading him from entertaining any notion of consuming it.

The name itself, "The Dark-Dark fruit," whispered forebodingly through the recesses of his mind, resonating with an air of impending doom.

According to knowledgeable researchers, an intriguing notion surfaced regarding a specific fruit's extraordinary properties. They postulated that consuming said fruit would grant one the remarkable ability to absorb objects. Furthermore, whispers began to circulate, speculating that the enigmatic Dark-Dark fruit possessed the unprecedented power to not only absorb but also nullify the abilities of other devil fruits. Contemplating this possibility, a sense of apprehension crept into their thoughts, for they feared the dire consequences, if such potent capabilities were to be wielded by malevolent individuals turned against their own allies.

As he stood there, contemplating the mysterious devil fruit that lay, a flicker of uncertainty danced across his face. "Maybe I should talk to Pops about it?" he pondered aloud, his voice tinged with a hint of apprehension. Deep down, a gnawing sense of unease had taken root within him, like an unwelcome guest overstaying its welcome. The mere thought of this perplexing fruit intensified his disquietude, causing regret to bubble up within him like a rising tide. Alas, even the act of gazing upon its weathered exterior sent shivers down his spine, as if unseen hands were tracing icy fingers along the delicate nape of his neck, leaving behind an eerie sensation that refused to dissipate.

Thatch's heart skipped a beat, startled by the sudden jolt that ran through him as an unexpected knock reverberated through the silence of his cabin. Intrigued and slightly perplexed, he rose from his comfortable chair, his mind already occupied with thoughts of who could possibly be seeking his presence at this late hour.