The days blurred into nights, and the nights into days. Time was not something Rai D. Arashi measured by calendars or seasons anymore; it was measured by progress, by the faintest growth of strength in his body and the subtle changes in his will. Since discovering the Seastone shards and realizing their potential as the harshest training tool in existence, his life had shifted into a brutal rhythm. But tonight was different.
Arashi sat cross-legged at the peak of the island's central cliff, the ocean stretching endlessly before him. The moon's reflection rippled on the waves, silver light mingling with the faint sparks of electricity crawling across his skin. His body had adapted more to the Seastone weight, but every session still left him trembling, as if he had wrestled with death itself.
He inhaled slowly, shutting his eyes, feeling the pulse of his own body. Not the ordinary heartbeat of a man, but something far greater—an undercurrent of energy that seemed to dance with each breath. The Thunder Fruit was not just power anymore; it had become a part of him, fusing with his very biology. The once-violent bursts of lightning he struggled to control now obeyed him, humming quietly beneath the surface like a wild beast tamed by respect, not force.
Tonight, Arashi attempted something new. He focused inward, on the flow of bioelectricity within his nerves. He had always known the human brain and body ran on electricity, but here—on this island, in this world—the fruit allowed him to grasp it directly. He visualized the current running through him, tiny sparks firing with every heartbeat, every thought, every twitch of muscle. With concentration, he began to amplify it, layer by layer.
At first, the sensation was faint—a warmth spreading across his limbs. Then it grew stronger, his body twitching with power until arcs of blue-white lightning crackled across his arms and shoulders. He gritted his teeth, sweat dripping down his forehead. His mind screamed that his muscles should be tearing apart under the stress, that his cells couldn't possibly handle this—but they did. His body adapted, growing sharper, faster, stronger with each attempt.
Arashi opened his eyes suddenly, thrusting his hand forward. A bolt of lightning roared out, splitting the sky in two, the thunderclap shaking the trees below. He staggered to his feet, gasping, his vision blurring at the edges from the sheer drain of focus. But despite the exhaustion, he laughed softly to himself.
"Not just power outside," he whispered, flexing his hands, "but inside too… If I can strengthen my body with lightning, then maybe… just maybe… I can live far longer than anyone else."
Immortality. The word was a whisper in the back of his mind, a temptation that grew louder with every breakthrough. This world was supernatural—Devil Fruits, Haki, monsters that defied imagination. If there was anywhere immortality was possible, it was here.
But he knew that goal would demand more than just power. It would require control, mastery, and the will to stand at the top of the storm.
That night, Arashi began experimenting with something far stranger. Using visualization techniques from his past life's knowledge, he imagined tiny patterns forming in his mind's eye—symbols that represented thunder, control, and stability. Mental "runes," not carved in stone or etched in paper, but engraved into his own consciousness. Each rune was a focus, a key that allowed him to channel his lightning in more precise ways.
The first rune was crude, a simple symbol for flow. He tied it to the sensation of electricity moving through his nerves, guiding it like a stream instead of letting it burst wildly. The second was destruction, a jagged, burning image that amplified the violent impact of his strikes. The third, still incomplete, was endurance, an attempt to use lightning not just to destroy, but to preserve and reinforce his body's cells.
Hours passed as he etched these runes into his inner world. When dawn finally broke, Arashi opened his eyes, his body aching but alive with a strange new vitality. He stood, raising his hand toward the horizon. Lightning arced from his fingertips in a controlled line, striking a tree far below and reducing it to ash. Not a wild burst. Not a random explosion. A precise strike, shaped by will.
The ocean breeze whipped at his hair as he looked skyward, determination burning in his eyes. "If I can engrave enough of these… if I can perfect them… my body won't just wield thunder. It will become thunder."
For the first time since arriving in this world, Rai D. Arashi felt he was not just surviving—he was evolving.
But even as the thought filled him with pride, a shadow of unease crept in. Because with every increase in power, the island seemed smaller. The horizon called louder. And deep in his chest, he knew he could not remain here forever.
The seas were waiting.
And somewhere out there… destiny itself.