The rusted iron bars creaked softly, accompanying every lurch of the ship. The air inside the cell was stifling and damp, a mix of sweat and rust. In the corner of the Viking pirate ship's prison, sat a girl with short white hair, her dark and bright eyes gleaming faintly. Her hands were bound by cold, heavy steel shackles, her clothes were tattered, but her gaze remained calm.
Lucy Wathert.
She lowered her head, hugging her knees, then sighed. "Why did everything have to become like this..." she whispered, lost to the roar of the waves.
The day before, the small harbor of Hiert Village was shrouded in fog. A cold wind shook the ship's ropes and creaked the masts. In the distance, you could see the orphanage where Lucy grew up. Its walls were cracked, its roof leaked, but for Lucy, it was home, yet too full of memories to stay, yet too lonely to revisit.
The villagers knew her as a stubborn girl. Old Man Laque, the orphanage's caretaker, knew her habits. But this time was different; Lucy stood at the edge of the pier with a serious face, staring out at the sea, searching for something unseen. That emptiness was named Lace Wathert, her sister. Seven years ago, Lace left the island with a simple promise, but seven years passed, with no news.
That night, Lucy stole a small fishing boat and a bag of bread. As she rowed, the fog swallowed the island's silhouette. "I'm coming for you, Sis!!!!"
But that hope didn't last long. As evening approached, a large shadow appeared — a giant ship with a black flag. A Viking pirate ship. Lucy panicked, but it was no use. Rough hands dragged her away without mercy. After that, there was only darkness, the sound of waves, and the smell of blood.
Now, inside that ship's prison, those memories felt so distant.
"Hey," a heavy voice broke the silence.
From the opposite cell, a disheveled purple-haired man stared at her with a smirk. "Looks like you're confused, huh.... Beautiful."
Lucy glanced briefly, but remained silent.
The man chuckled. "Also proud. Maybe we should introduce ourselves. My name is Waker. Waker Drakel. And you?"
Lucy took a slow breath. "My name is Lucy. Lucy Wathert."
Waker chuckled, his eyes gleaming. "Wathert, huh... a beautiful name to hear."
Lucy didn't respond, letting her thoughts drift with the waves. The sea is vast, but my determination must be even greater. She stared at the shackles on her hands. "I'm coming for you, Sis…"
The pirate ship docked at a large island. In the distance, you could see towering stone mountains and rows of wooden buildings that stood firmly. The island was called Os'e, land of the Vikings. The sound of iron chains and harsh shouts echoed as the prisoners were forced down. Lucy followed among them.
The shackles were strange, with foreign purple runes engraved on the surface, like a spell. But they didn't seem to affect her, so Lucy ignored them.
"Move! Faster!" shouted a guard, nudging Lucy with a sword.
Along with dozens of other prisoners, they were led to a large building with the words: Slave Shop. Inside, the air felt damp and stifling. Lucy sat on the floor, observing the surroundings.
Waker, the man from the previous cell, approached and leaned against the wall. "Looks like you have a plan, Lucy," he said.
Lucy replied softly without looking at him, "You haven't realized it yet? We're being brought to a place called Slave Shop. What do you think we're going to do here? Have coffee? We're going to be sold, you idiot."
Waker was silent for a moment. "True, you're pretty clever," he muttered.
Some time later, the slave auction began. A crowd of Vikings filled the large hall, and the sound of bartering filled the air. Lucy carefully looked around. Near her, stood a young guard who seemed nervous, with the end of a shackle key visible in his pocket. A golden opportunity.
Lucy lowered her head, then pretended to tremble. "Sir.... What's going to happen to me? Why is it so crowded outside?" Her voice was soft, like a scared little girl.
The guard looked at her panickedly, "There, There Little Girl.... You will be fine, i guarantee it."
With a swift movement, Lucy successfully stole the key. She sat back down, pretending to give up.
From afar, Waker watched everything. "Clever, Interesting..." he muttered with a grin.
When the guard lost focus, Lucy slowly moved away, then quietly unlocked her shackles. The shackles fell to the floor with a soft click.
But before she could take a step, a familiar voice was heard. "Also Clever, huh?" Waker said as he approached. "If you could.... Unlock mine too. I can help you escape."
Lucy stared at him warily. "Help? How?"
"These shackles have an Anti-Skill seal. I can't use my power while they're on," Waker replied.
Lucy stared at him confused. "Seal? Anti-Skill? What are you talking about?"
"Just trust me. You'll understand later," Waker replied quickly. "Hurry up and open them, before the guards come."
Reluctantly, Lucy agreed. She unlocked Waker's shackles. As soon as they were released, Waker grabbed Lucy's hand.
"What-"
Before Lucy could ask, Waker's left hand changed. Thick, dark red liquid dripped from his fingers — then hardened, forming a sharp blade. With one slash, the stone wall in front of them split like paper.
Dust filled the air. The guards' shouts were heard outside. Other prisoners panicked and ran, trying to escape.
Waker pulled Lucy out before the dust completely settled. They ran through the narrow alleys, until they stopped at an old corridor filled with rusty pipes.
There they hid, panting. Lucy stared at Waker, unable to believe what she had just seen.
"So... You're not an ordinary human, huh?" Lucy asked softly.
Waker looked angry "I'm a normal human idiot! Don't tell me you don't have a Quirk?"
Lucy was confused. "Quirk?? What is that?" she muttered, and at that moment Lucy realized — she was still too weak with an empty stomach. But one thing was certain: her adventure had just begun.
Lucy stared at Waker, that purple-haired man, with burning curiosity.
"Waker!! Explain what a Quirk is actually?!?"
Waker glanced briefly, then chuckled. "Heh, you really don't know? Seriously, that's pretty weird."
Lucy pouted. "I'm asking nicely, Waker. So explain!"
He raised both hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. Listen up. A Quirk is... a kind of main power in my island. From what I remember there are 5 types but the one I only understand is elemental."
Lucy raised her eyebrows. "Elemental? Like... fire, water, something like that?"
"More or less," Waker replied. "For example my Quirk, which is elemental type: Blood. I can release blood from my body, control it, even change its shape to whatever I want."
Lucy looked at his hand, then sighed softly. "If you're the one explaining it, it seems like I understand even less."
Waker rolled his eyes, his face annoyed but also amused. "Hhh… it seems like your brain needs an upgrade. You're a bit of an idiot too, huh?"
"WHAT?!" Lucy shouted.
"Just kidding, just kidding…" Waker chuckled, then leaned against the end of the corridor.
After a moment of silence, Lucy spoke again. "Hey, but... if you have such a strong power, how did you get caught by those Vikings?"
Waker's expression changed, his face turned gloomy, as if remembering the past. "…. It's a long story," he muttered softly.
Waker then told about his origins and why he was captured:
Dalac Island, Waker Drakel's birthplace. A cold island, and in the middle stands a giant skull head, and on top of that skull rises a black castle. The island is called the land of vampires. But Waker was different. Among all the inhabitants, he was the only ordinary human — without fangs, and without immortality. Because of that difference, he was a victim of Racism on Dalac Island. He grew up without parents. Becoming a homeless person, stealing to eat, and getting beaten if caught.
Until one day, when he was 19 years old, his blood started throbbing strangely. He realized that his body... was changing. His Quirk awakened. And his Quirk was also the strangest on that island. Everyone there has a Quirk to strengthen their physique. While Waker controls the elements.
But that awakening became the beginning of disaster.
Three years later, exactly 9 days before Waker told Lucy. the sky above Dalac split. From that crack came a sharp-winged creature of dark purple color, its eyes glowing gold, small horns glistening on its head. The air turned freezing. Then the crack released hundreds of demonic spirits who rampaged and destroyed everything.
Waker, who at that time was often too lazy to train his Quirk, could only fight one spirit out of hundreds. The rest? He ran away.
With his Skill — Flying Blood, he channeled blood into his feet, creating a strong impulse that carried him flying among the ruins. He looked down, witnessing his home island disappear swallowed by a wave of darkness that was the devil's skill. "One attack… and everything disappeared. Like the island never existed before."
Even though he hated Dalac, the shadow of that destruction stuck in his mind, along with the face of the demon he would never forget. Now his ambition is only to avenge his vengeance on that demon.
Because he still couldn't control that flying skill. Foolishly, Waker's face hit the mast of the Viking pirate ship. The Vikings panicked and shackled and put Waker in prison because the Vikings thought Waker was attacking them.
Back in the present, the sun had set, and it was already night.
Lucy was silent listening to his story. Her eyes widened — not only because of horror, but also because of a sense of pity that she herself didn't understand. Although she laughed when Waker told her that he had hit the ship's mast.
Waker just stared at the wall of the corridor. "Okay, hurry up and go to sleep. Tomorrow we have to find a way to escape from this island."
Lucy nodded softly and started to fall asleep.
The next morning, Waker shook Lucy's shoulder. "Wake up, oyy. I found something."
Lucy rubbed her eyes, then saw an item in Waker's hand — a rusty iron pipe. The end was pointed, sharp enough to be used as a temporary weapon.
Waker grinned crookedly. "Not great, but good enough to protect yourself."
Lucy took it and looked at the pipe with a small spark of hope in her eyes. "With this... Could we escape.. Waker?"
Waker grinned. "Don't worry, besides that pipe, there's me who's gonna protect you."
Lucy smiled quietly at that moment as if she believed in Waker. For the first time since she was captured, her heart felt a little lighter.
In that iron trash corridor, fate brought them together. Two wounded souls, stranded on a foreign island, with different goals. But in Lucy's eyes, Waker saw the same determination — a determination to survive, and perhaps… a determination to change the world.