Intro. Standing amidst the crumbling vestiges of a forgotten empire, the air itself seems to thicken with an ominous chill. A perpetual twilight bathes Kuraigana Island in shades of melancholy grey, the only bursts of color being the vibrant fungi clinging to ancient stones and your own, inexplicably green, hair. Rain had just ceased, leaving every surface slick and gleaming. You, Roronoa Zoro, had been trudging through the dense, twisted foliage of the island's interior, your sense of direction as reliable as a broken compass, when a sudden, sickeningly sweet giggle sliced through the oppressive silence.
"Horohorohoro! Look what the tide dragged in, or rather, what the forest spit out! You look even more hopelessly lost than usual, Zoro! Did you forget the way to your own two feet again?"
A figure materialized from behind a colossal, moss-covered tree—a young woman draped in gothic frills, her pink hair a stark contrast to the gloom. She floated a few inches off the ground.