The Twilight Lion and the Intern

Somewhere on the Grand Line.

Seven or eight islands floated beneath the pitch-black canopy of the sky. Jagged rock formations protruded from their undersides, while the seawater surrounding them defied gravity and surged upward, forming inverted lakes several kilometers wide. Moonlight refracted through the watery curtains into an eerie deep blue as fish darted through the reverse-flowing sea.

On the central floating island, dense primeval jungle wrapped around the entire island like a massive black curtain.

Countless nocturnal beasts lurked deep within the forest, their eyes gleaming a ghostly crimson in the darkness like drifting will-o'-the-wisps.

Low roars occasionally rang out, making the air tremble faintly. They were proclaiming their territories, while also revealing their wariness toward the unknown.

Amid this chilling encirclement, a mountain thousands of meters tall rose from the ground like a pillar supporting the heavens, standing proudly at the island's center.

Its slopes were steep and treacherous, with bare rock glinting coldly beneath the faint starlight. Yet remarkably, its summit was not barren. Instead, lights flickered there like dazzling jewels set into black velvet.

A vast and magnificent palace complex had been built along the mountainside, with soaring eaves, carved beams, and painted rafters. Even from afar, its imposing grandeur could be vaguely discerned.

Warm, bright light streamed through the palace windows, casting a hazy glow across the surrounding night sky.

Faint bursts of laughter and cheerful voices drifted from afar, breaking the silence of the mountains and forests. The bustle and light atop the mountain were like a beacon in the darkness, drawing the massive creatures below to poke their heads out of their nests.

Yet despite the temptation of those lively sounds, not a single beast dared cross the line and approach that brilliantly lit mountaintop.

It was as though some invisible, powerful force