Shore of Arboria
The Silent Orca gently bobbed on the calm shallows just off Arboria's eastern coast. The once-lively chatter on board had long faded into the quiet hum of nighttime insects and the soft lapping of waves. Stars glittered above, and the moon hung low, casting a silver sheen over the emerald canopy in the distance.
On deck, Baral was sitting near the mast, chewing on a large hunk of roasted Sea King meat—leftovers from Zino's effortless takedown during their earlier voyage.
As he ate, he glanced toward the darkened treeline. "Do they plan on staying inland?" he muttered between bites. "They've been gone a while now."
Silence answered him, broken only by the crackle of the torches recently hung on the ship's railing.
"I wish I could go with them too," the ship's voice suddenly echoed softly.
It came from within—the soul of Silent Orca, speaking aloud in her usual calm voice.
"It must be nice... walking around, exploring, touching things with real hands. Or flying like Ancestor Paus did."
Baral didn't respond, just kept munching, as the sea breeze brushed his chest-like body.
Just then, Silent Orca went quiet. Her attention shifted toward the water. 185 L
Something was floating nearby, bobbing gently with the tide—a small, round object, carried ever so slowly toward the ship.
Is that… a fruit? the ship wondered.
As it drifted closer, moonlight revealed the swirl patterns curling across its skin. Her glowing eyes widened.
"A Devil Fruit?"
It was unmistakable. The iconic spiraling design marked it as something extremely rare and powerful. But what shocked Silent Orca most was not its appearance—it was what she felt.
As the fruit reached her hull and touched the outer wood, it pulsed—lightly, rhythmically, almost like a heartbeat.
"…It's pulsing?" she said, surprised. "Is it... choosing me?"
A strange flicker lit up inside her—the lights around her eye-shaped windows glowed faintly. Desire swelled in her wooden frame, like a quiet storm building after long stillness.
She had wished for this.
To move freely. To walk like her crew. To take part in their journeys not just as a vessel, but as an equal.
Could this be the answer?
Carefully, she tried to eat the fruit—but reality struck her. She had no mouth. No stomach. No way to chew or swallow like a living being.
How can I eat it…?
Panic began to rise in her thoughts, until something instinctive stirred within her—a will born not from logic, but desire.
She focused everything on the fruit. Her willpower, her longing, her soul. And then...
The fruit, still pressed to her side, began to melt.
Not rot. Not dissolve. It was fusing—its glowing surface merging into the ship's wooden body like drops of ink soaking into parchment. She could feel it entering her. Merging. Becoming one with her core.
"I'm… I'm absorbing it," she whispered.
Within moments, the fruit was gone. No trace remained.
Silence.
And then—a strange energy surged through her entire structure, like vines blooming through her wooden beams.
"I think… I got the power," she said, stunned.
She didn't know what kind of Devil Fruit it was, but Silent Orca could feel something stirring inside her core. An unfamiliar warmth curled within, pulsing gently, like a slumbering heartbeat waiting to be awakened.
"Let's try it…"
She focused on activating the power.
But instead of a dramatic change, she felt her energy drain. Her core trembled. Her voice flickered. A faint dizziness crept through her hull.
"Uh… I'm losing strength…" she said weakly. "Is this… the Devil Fruit's side effect? Oh no. I'm going to sink—"
But her panic faded just as quickly. Though her strength was fading, her buoyancy remained untouched. After all, she was still a ship—large, solid, and built to float.
She exhaled in relief, her sails relaxing. "Whew… okay, that's good. I didn't sink."
Then her focus shifted. "Hey Baral," she called, her voice regaining strength, "help me get to shore. I want to go inland."
Baral, who was still lazily chewing on the last bit of Sea King meat, looked up mid-bite. "Alright."
He stuffed the rest of the meat into his chest-lid mouth, then hopped up. With a casual leap, he vaulted over the railing and dropped toward the shallow waters below.
Before he landed, his body expanded and morphed. With a burst of cloudy vapor, he took on his towering Cloud Yeti form.
Splash!
His feet sank into the soft seafloor, but the water barely reached his knees. Without hesitation, he waded forward and gripped the edge of the ship's hull, then began pulling Silent Orca gently toward the beach.
With a slow grind of wood against sand, the ship touched shore.
"Thanks," said Silent Orca, grateful.
"No problem," Baral replied, shifting back into his smaller mimic form. He shook off droplets of seawater. "So… why the sudden need to go ashore?"
"I just acquired an ability," she said calmly. "I ate a Devil Fruit."
Baral's round eyes blinked twice. "You what? You… ate a Devil Fruit?"
"You sound surprised," she said flatly.
"Well yeah! You're a ship! How could you eat?"
"Have you forgotten about Ancestor Paus?" she reminded. "He also ate a Devil Fruit. He was a ship, too."
"Right...I forgot about that." Baral scratched his chest-like body. "So, what kind of ability did you get?"
"I don't know," the ship said. "I'm about to find out what kind of ability I got."
Without further hesitation, she activated her power again—this time carefully, with clear intent.
A shift began.
Her wooden hull began to ripple. Planks folded in. Masts and sails collapsed and dissolved into her form. The anchor arms compressed and reshaped. Her large frame contracted down rapidly.
In mere seconds, she was no longer a ship.
Now standing on the shore was a humanoid figure—slim and graceful, about the size of an adult woman. Her skin was bark-like but smooth, marked with soft lines of glowing green energy. Leaf-like patterns traced her limbs, and her hair flowed behind her in long, leafy strands like a vine-strewn canopy.
She had transformed… into a dryad.
"I did it," she said in awe, staring down at her hands, flexing her fingers slowly. "I really did it… I have a body now."
On the side, Baral's jaw hung slightly open.
The ship—Silent Orca—had become a dryad. And not just any dryad. She was beautiful.
Her emerald eyes sparkled, and she spun gently on her heels with childlike joy. "How do I look?" she asked, twirling once.
"You… are naked," Baral said bluntly.
The dryad froze in mid-spin.
She stared down at herself.
Then—
"Aaaah! Don't look!" she shrieked, throwing her hands over her chest and curling into a crouch.
Baral sighed and turned around. From inside his open chest lid, a small portal shimmered. A dark cloak emerged, which he tossed behind him with one hand.
"Wear it," he said calmly. "Also… I think you need a new name. 'Silent Orca' doesn't suit your new form."
The dryad caught the cloak, wrapping it hastily around herself.
She stood upright again, face red despite her bark-like cheeks.
"…A new name, huh?" Silent Orca murmured softly. She glanced down at her slender form, her fingers brushing the leafy strands of her new hair, still marveling at the sensation of touch.
"Orca… Orc…" she frowned. "No, that doesn't sound right. Cor… Cora. Yes."
She nodded in satisfaction. "My new name is Cora."
Baral tilted his head, blinking. "Cora? Why that name?"
"It sounds more feminine," she explained simply. "But that's not the only reason."
She looked up at the stars above the forest canopy, then placed a hand gently on her chest. "I thought about it. My new ability is plant-based—Dryad powers. But my real body is a ship that sails the sea. If you combine those two concepts… plant and sea…"
Baral blinked again, now listening more intently.
"In the sea, there's something called coralline—a plant-like algae that lives underwater. It represents both sea and plant. If you shorten 'coralline,' you get Cora. And when you scramble the letters of Cora, you also get Orca."
She smiled. "So, it's like the name still carries my old self. Just… reborn."
Baral stared at her for a long second, lips parted. Then he finally muttered, "…You cleverly found a name."
Cora chuckled and stretched her limbs. "Alright then. Now that I've got legs, I need to use them. Let's go, Baral. Let's find Captain and the others."
Baral raised a brow. "You sure you wanna walk into the village looking like a dryad? They might mistake you for one of their own. Maybe even think you're some long-lost relative washed up on shore."
"Why should I care?" she grinned. "I'm going anyway. Don't try to stop me."
Without waiting for further argument, Cora grabbed Baral, and began dragging him inland.
"Let's go!"
...
Inside the Dryad Village
The gentle evening glow lit up the central village, casting golden light through the leaf canopy above. Small, glowing orbs floated lazily around the treetop dwellings. The dryads had gathered outside Elder Wister's plant-woven house, where the Orcas were sharing a quiet dinner.
Since the dryads' living space wasn't designed for a pirate crew of this size, Zino had improvised. A massive round ice table glistened in the center, surrounded by several soft cloud couches
Now acting as the temporary cook in Sanji's absence, Zino stood near a small firepit, flipping meat over an open flame. It wasn't perfect, but it sizzled just right.
"Dinner time," he called, his voice cool but casual as always.
He began distributing food onto large leaves used as plates—roasted Sea King meat, grilled fruits, and even steaming bundles of seasoned root vegetables gifted by the dryads.
He handed them out to his crew first, then respectfully to the dryads gathered nearby.
"Mmm… this meat tastes delicious," said Elder Wister, chewing thoughtfully. "Tender and smoky."
"You're quite the cook," said the dryad Advisor, raising a brow. "You must be the chef of your pirate group, yes?"
Before Zino could answer, Alvida snorted and spoke up from her seat. "He's the Captain, not the chef. Our actual chef is currently away. So he's filling in."
"Eh—" the Advisor scratched his head, clearly embarrassed. "Right, I forgot. You're the captain."
Wister tilted his head. "Your chef is away? May I ask where?"
"He and a few others went to Mermaid Island," Zino replied. "They've yet to meet us here in the New World."
"Mermaid Island…" Elder Wister's expression darkened slightly, though he tried to hide it. His fingers tapped lightly against the table.
Zino noticed but said nothing. Just then, his gaze shifted into the distance. His senses tingled—someone was approaching.
"…Baral? And… a dryad?" he muttered, narrowing his eyes. "Did he get someone to escort him?"
Before long, the two figures reached the edge of the gathering. All eyes turned toward them as Cora, still cloaked, walked confidently into the village clearing with Baral in tow.
But she didn't say a word. Calm and poised, she gently set Baral—still in his compact chest form—down on the ground.
Then, without hesitation, she stepped forward… and casually sat herself on Zino's lap.
Everyone froze.
Jaws dropped.
The sight of a stunning, mysterious dryad settling so comfortably on their captain—without warning—was something no one expected. Zino blinked, his hand still hovering over a bowl of food mid-scoop.
"…Who are you?" he asked, his voice calm but cautious.
Cora smiled at him, her green eyes shimmering. "Captain, don't you recognize me?"
"Captain…?" Stev echoed, eyes wide. "Did she just call Captain Zino Captain?"
"When did you recruit such a beautiful dryad?" Binko blurted, nearly choking on his food.
Zino, still stunned, shook his head slowly. "I didn't…"
He looked at her again, studying her face more closely. "So who are you really?"
Cora's smile faded a little, her expression softening. "You really don't recognize me, Captain?" Her voice wavered slightly, eyes beginning to mist with disappointment.
Zino felt a cold sweat. Why does she feel so familiar? he thought. Is this someone I should know?
He closed his eyes, reaching out with his Observation Haki. He searched for that familiar presence—that subtle aura he'd come to know from being aboard the ship day after day.
Then he felt it.
That same comforting presence. That same warmth. Always there during battles, voyages, quiet nights.
His eyes snapped open.
"…No way," he whispered. "You're—Silent Orca?"
A ripple of disbelief passed through the crew.
Cora's eyes lit up with joy. "So you do recognize me after all!"
She gracefully stood from Zino's lap and twirled a few steps away. Her leafy hair shimmered under the glowing orbs, and her bark-like skin glowed faintly with green patterns.
"Allow me to introduce myself," she said proudly. "I am the ship you've all sailed with—Silent Orca. But in this form… I am Cora."
Silence.
Then—
"She's the ship?!"
The entire crew exclaimed at once, expressions ranging from stunned to outright disbelieving. Even Crocodile, normally composed, nearly dropped his cigar.