Chopper and Wyper have gone out to wander.

'What are all these graves? ' Wyper frowns. 'This is an insane amount. And they 've all got fresh flowers. What a waste. '

'Down here in the blue sea, we put flowers on graves, ' Chopper explains. 'Do you guys not, up there? '

'No, we just pray. '

Flowers were scarce up there, after all. And so was food. They built statues in honour of those they 've lost, but they don 't have the habit of burying the dead ' they just let them drift on a cloud, to be free forever to the will of god.

But it was still strange.

There were dozens of graves here, and every one of them had flowers dry but not wilted. They were placed recently, every single one of them, like there was recently a procession to honor them all one more time.

Wyper tosses a side of his flowy clothes over his shoulder, tightening his bazooka 's strap over his belt so it is laid comfortably aside. He crouches down, touching the stone.