One Piece Unknown 1 Novels & Stories

I need some time. Inaya: I'll think about it. Unknown: I'm happy. At least you're talking to me. Thank you. I don't know why but I'm feeling like he is a genuine person. Inaya: At least you can tell me your name to me. I have to save your number. Unknown: You can call me Mr Stranger. I knew it, he won't tell. Inaya: So, you can't even tell me your name. Why he can't even tell his name? Why? Will I ever find my answers?

But if Permiton is right, if I'm truly meant to have four Ones, the matter is yet to be settled. The council members begin murmuring again, their earlier relief turning back to concern. My mother’s expression tightens, the worry returning to her eyes. She knows as well as I do that if I’m missing two Ones, it could mean that the barrier won’t be fully strengthened until they’re found. And who knows how long that could take? It’s already taken this long to find the first two. Akin reaches out, his hand finding mine beneath the table. His touch is warm and steady, grounding me in the midst of the uncertainty swirling around us. River, too, is watching me closely, his earlier frustration replac

Unknown: You can’t hide behind him. Unknown: You belong with me. Unknown: Why won’t you admit it? Finally, she broke. Lila: Who are you?! Why are you doing this? Lila: What do you want from me?! This time, the reply wasn’t instant. Minutes dragged, thick with silence, until the screen lit again. Unknown: I want you to open your eyes. Unknown: Anthony isn’t who you think. Unknown: He’s mine. Lila’s breath caught. Her fingers slipped against the phone, her vision blurring with fresh tears. Mine. The word screamed in her head, a claim, a warning, a promise.

The screen lit up, icons loading. Immediately, a text notification popped up. Then another. And another. All from different numbers. > Unknown: Running away from my calls, sweetheart? That’s not very wifely. > Unknown: The police can’t find me. You know what that means? I can find you. Any time. > Unknown: We need to meet. Talk about us. About our future. > Unknown: You think you can be happy with him? In my house? With my daughter? I won’t allow it.

I frowned at the mention of my full name. Me: Who is this? Unknown: Does that matter? I frowned, staring at the screen and trying to figure out who it could be. Me: What do you want? Unknown: Your downfall. My eyes jumped out of their sockets as I read the text. Me: Okay, mister! I had enough of unknown numbers threatening me. Text me again, and I will call the cops on you. Unknown: Try it, please. Unknown: I am waiting.

My smile widens as I see an unknown number. Unknown: ‘Save this. And stay at my place for the night.’

Tomorrow loomed over me like a storm cloud, dark and inevitable. My phone buzzed. I glanced at it, expecting maybe Talia, Instead, it was a notification from an unknown number. UNKNOWN: Good luck at the panel tomorrow. Hope the truth survives. My blood ran cold and another message came through immediately after. UNKNOWN: Some secrets don’t. I sat up immediately, heart pounding, fingers numb as I stared at the screen realizing, with terrifying clarity, that this was far from over. These girls were planning something else.

Her phone buzzed. **Unknown number:** *You were brave in there. I'm proud of you.* She stared at the screen. Read it three times. Didn't recognize the area code. **Aurelia:** *Who is this?* **Unknown:** *Someone who's been watching from the shadows. We need to talk. There are things about your bloodline you don't know. Things that predate the packs. Things that will hunt you once the article drops.* **Unknown:** *Dinner. Tomorrow. 8 PM. The Brasserie on Fourth. Come alone.*

Rhythm. Like something inside him kept interrupting the disease mid-sentence. I checked the analyzer's function log. Clean. Ran the internal controls twice more. Everything passed. I wrote: Unknown modulation. Circled it hard enough to tear the page slightly. Unknown was never good news in this field. Unknown meant the model didn't exist yet, and models that didn't exist yet had a habit of arriving too late to matter. I pulled the other case files—the boy from the first isolation room, the newly mated woman with the wrong-smelling mate, and half a dozen Stage One charts from Ashvale.