Chapter 83
-4 Days After the War-
"
Don don don don!"
Across the globe, activity ground to a screeching halt. Pirate, Marine, and everyone in between reacted the same to that familiar noise: they picked up the snail the instant they were able.
Cross's expression this time had the snails' eyes closed and their breathing deep and even, as though he was steeling himself. When the snails opened their eyes, they held a quiet fire, but none of the madness from the time of the war. And when his lips turned up in a small, tired smile, even the Marines relaxed a bit in the naïve belief that this one broadcast, just this one, wouldn't drop another mess in their laps.
"
Hello, people of the world, and welcome back to the SBS."
And then
those godforsaken words made them check their hopes at the door.
"
I'm not in a good place right now, physically or mentally. I haven't been for a couple of weeks. But I've got help now. I've even found a good therapist! That's why I need to make this broadcast now. I won't take too much of your time, but there are a few things that I still need to share with the world before I bring the SBS to a close."
There was a brief pause as those words sunk in, and the world trembled at their possible ramifications.
"
I should have your attention now, so let me confirm what I just said: this is going to be my last broadcast for a very long time, so I'm going to make it count."
DENOUEMENT
-o-BEGIN-o-
Even with its namesake duo gone forever, Little Garden was an inhospitable death trap on a good day. Nobody's idea of a good day involved the prehistoric preserve getting encircled and invaded by a hostile nation. Unfortunately for the rest of the world, the hostile nation was winning, culling dinosaurs, clear-cutting the jungle, and surveying the land for potential mineral deposits.
More immediately problematic, though, was that the army's commanders had gathered in one of the new clearings to set their plans for the world abroad. Red, blue, green, and pink sat around a table with a computer monitor built into its surface, the quartet themselves and the technology proof of their family's nearly unequaled technological prowess.
And so it was that in the wake of calamity, Germa 66 sat down to decide where they would unleash their own fresh, new hell upon the world.
"Water 7 is ideal," Vinsmoke Ichiji declared. He tapped at a spot on the digital simulacrum of Paradise—though the resolution wasn't good enough to render more than basic geography—displayed on the screen-surface of the table. "An island in revolution without access to the Revolutionary Army, it would be unable to resist an assault by our forces. Seizing the island would grant us their entire shipbuilding capacity, as well as the Sea Train and by extension the entire rest of the region. Not to mention whatever's left in the corpse of Enies Lobby."
"Nah, no way!" Yonji disagreed. He swatted at the table with excessive force and centered the focus on a much larger—and much more inhospitable—island. "We've been on a hot streak lately, I say we catch ourselves a true prize! The fallen jewel of the World Government, Alabasta itself! Let's see what riches and weapons they have left over from that rebellion. Not to mention I wanna see if they've got anyone else half as hot as that princess of theirs!"
"You're thinking with the wrong head again," Reiju sighed, raising her hands in mock surrender when her youngest sibling snarled at her for the remark. "I, for one, believe there's more potential to be found in calmer waters." She flicked the display to a wider ocean, and pointed at the vicinity of the planet's South Pole. "Ever since the Enies Lobby debacle, the Vantruskan Coalition has been rebuilding itself. In less than a year, it will be the most powerful organization in the South Blue. We should move in before they reach that point, and both curtail their growth before they become a threat
as well as take their considerable wealth for our own ends."
Left unsaid was that it would also drive their nation's attention away from Paradise—and the East Blue, for that matter—therefore minimizing the odds of running into their estranged brother.
"Now you're being too cautious, sister," Niji said, not unkindly, as he lowered his hand to the map. "This location is somewhat riskier, but the potential payoff is far greater."
The map's display now rested on a hazy section of ocean, a single island marked by a skull within.
"Father has been considering an alliance with Charlotte Linlin for some time now. Were we to present her wayward daughter's skull as an opening gift, it would go a long way to build good will with her. The Florian Triangle is a terrifying place even to the Emperors. But for us? It will only be a question of breaching the fog. And after that?" The blue-haired monster's expression twisted up into a sadistic grin. "We burn the rat hive to the ground with every one of the vermin still inside, and pry whatever loot is left from their hands."
Ichiji and Yonji tilted their heads. Mirrored smiles overtook their faces as they followed their middle brother's train of thought. Reiju quietly bit her lip, trying to conjure a counterargument that would dissuade them from a course that was not only foolhardy (the Florian? They honestly wanted to try and attack
the Florian!?), but also seriously risked drawing the only
human member of their bloodline in to fight.
Maybe if she backed Ichiji's proposed operation. With the Giant Corps guarding it Alabasta was
almost as hard a target as the Florian; Water 7 was still in Paradise and still had ties to the Straw Hats, but from a military perspective it was the only sensible option her brothers had floated. She leaned forward to interrupt her brothers' enthusiastic brainstorming—
SLAM!
"All fine choices."
The Generals of Germa all snapped to attention as their Lord himself marched in and sat at the head of the table.
"But I regret to inform you that none of those locations shall be our next destinations," Judge declared.
While her brothers had reverted to the emotionless machines that
he had designed them to be, Reiju had to put actual effort into maintaining her mask over the sense of foreboding that had suddenly bloomed in her chest. Vinsmoke Judge bothering to actually
compliment someone was rare enough; the ear-to-ear grin on his face was practically an
omen.
"And what brilliant plan do you have to promote Germa's prosperity, Father?" Niji asked (simpered at, really) their
progenitor.
"Indeed! Where do we start, Father?" Yonji asked eagerly (sycophantically).
In response, Judge slammed his fist down upon the table, and the display shifted to present
not an island, but an ocean. An ocean all in the ranks of Germa were
intimately familiar with.
"
Home," the Tyrant declared, his voice almost
reverential.
Emotionally stunted though they were, such a shameless declaration brought the boys up short, and they showed a rare flicker of humanity—of
doubt—when as one they exchanged wary glances. And in their inexperience at such emotion, it was Reiju who got over her own dumbstruck reaction first to voice her concerns.
"Father…" she drew out, her gaze locked on the javelin strapped to her father's back. "The World Government already despises us. If we were to attempt to…
reacquire the North Blue… it was made well clear to us at the last Reverie what sort of a reaction
any such attempt would invoke."
Judge's grin, if anything, only grew wider. His free hand reached into his jacket and presented a letter, the Government's seal visible upon the portion that folded backward near the top.
"Don't think of it as
conquest. With this letter of marque, it's merely…
pacification."
And it was with that declaration that the four Vinsmoke children began smiling. Three out of genuine (if empty) viciousness and desire for violence, and one born of an instinct for survival, the mind behind the smile already churning with what her 'family' was about to gain.
-o-
"
Let me begin by issuing my sincere gratitude to the Five Elder Stars. The fact that they decided to execute Ace when they did, and tip my crew off beforehand, was the biggest reason we were able to intervene. The day we raised our revolution on Sabaody was always going to be the last day that the Straw Hat Pirates were together before we disbanded. Our time was finite and our separation was unstoppable. And so, you see, I'm thanking the Elder Stars for when they chose to announce the war. Because if they hadn't warned us before we disbanded, if they had waited just one. More. Day. …
They would have succeeded."
Driiiing.
Over the past year, Cross's actions had given the Elder Stars a chronic case of acute indigestion. But it was only now that they felt legitimate fear because of him.
Driiiing.
Because now, in what they knew was a direct response to what Cross had just said, a device in their possession was ringing. A device that was
never supposed to ring.
Driiiing.
The katana-wielder slowly got to his feet, leaving his sword behind, and walked over to the unique communication device. It had a solid base with a receiver at its top designed to be held in one hand, and the small speaker hung at its side on a hook, designed to funnel sound directly to the owner's ear. The Elder lifted the phone and braced himself.
Driiii—KA-LICK.
"Hello?"
Silence gripped the room for exactly 42 seconds. Then the speaker was returned to its hook and the phone to its stand.
"…We have been summoned," he said quietly.
Not another word was said. After all, there was not a single word that
could be said.
Not when
THAT PERSON deemed it so.
-o-
Every hospital within a day's sailing to Marineford, and many even further away, had been filled to the brim with war casualties. Morale in the hospitals was overall gloomy, but most Marines were still very happy they weren't in one particular wing, where Akainu was cuffed to his bed with a sea prism stone bracelet to ensure his powers didn't impede the surgery on his hand.
And for many of them, Akainu wasn't even the person they wanted most to avoid.
"Ulawun… no. You're not…"
Sighing in resignation, the Admiral regarded the cyclops in the bed across from his, her sole eye staring at his maimed arm. Most of her physical injuries would be fixed within a matter of weeks, but mentally…
"I told you as much before," he grunted. "And I told you no lies at all. Don't fault me for your own stubborn assumptions."
The look in her eye was one of hurt and anger, and no small amount of manic fervor. It was a combination of emotions that would push her to greater heights, so Sakazuki paid it no mind.
"Your generous aid is appreciated and you will be compensated as we agreed," he recited. "From there, the Government's arrangement with Laut Kecil will be maintained. But your continued service in the Navy is your choice; if you are no longer committed to the cause, then you are free to leave. The Navy has already proven itself to be overly encumbered by sentimental liabilities. We will not waste our time catering to one more."
Indignant rage and, more importantly,
pride overtook the other emotions, her face twisting into a properly volcanic glower.
"…If not for the will of the Divine… then for the Will of Justice. I will follow you still,
Admiral…" And
there was her mania flaring back to life as her glower twisted to greater heights of fury. "So long as it means bringing down
divine judgment on those vile,
pumice-spined—!"
Sakazuki tuned her out as her rant spiraled into a string of increasingly creative promises of agony towards Whitebeard's forces, the Straw Hats, and everyone who flew a black flag in general. His eyes closed briefly, and he saw in his mind's eye the deranged visage of Marshall D. Teach. Fury clouded his expression again, and he channeled every ounce of resentment he felt in his body towards the
unholy monster who'd forced the Admiral to actually prioritize something over the heirs of Roger and Dragon dying
screaming.
Then another face floated into his mind's eye. One he knew as an equal, who wore a blindfold in his mental image. It was surprising how outspoken Kuzan had been. It was uncharacteristic, even, and that was something he'd been thinking over for days. He had learned before the war that Aokiji was, in some way, responsible for it, and it was easy—surprisingly so—to see that he resented it as much as Akainu, or more. But on the battlefield… it raised the question: was his demonstration something to worry about or, for
once in his lifeless career, praise?
The door to the room opened, and Akainu's frown shrank some at the sight of Vice Admiral Onigumo marching in, flanked by a pair of grunts. Onigumo was in no great shape himself, a half-dozen limbs in slings and most of his face held in place by what looked to be stitches and skin grafts. But he was actually capable of standing on his own, and that made him one of the healthiest individuals on Marineford by default.
"A status report, sir. The Vikverir are in high spirits. They've scattered the ashes of their fallen comrades, finished their grieving, and are celebrating their accomplishments. The party, I'm given to understand, has crossed half of Marineford already. The Angevins are performing rites for their knights with honor and swearing vengeance on their foes. They've left the deceased footmen and banner-carriers where they fell. The Suomi are the most problematic. They seem to believe that the results of the war speak ill of the Government's longevity, and are threatening to resign en masse unless we offer a
significant renegotiation of their expected duties."
The Admiral processed all of this with no change in his expression. As the seconds stretched into minutes, Onigumo took the silence as a sign that his superior needed more time to think, and turned to leave.
"I assume that you are… curious about the motives behind this war."
He turned back slowly, noting in his peripheral vision his escorts biting their lips, so hard it was for them to not demand answers. He understood; even the infamously ruthless Vice Admiral couldn't help but hesitate to answer such a question. "I… wouldn't presume to question—"
Either Akainu didn't hear him, or he didn't care. Either was possible, both was most likely.
"The Five Elder Stars made this decision personally, to fight this war before the Voices of Anarchy could cause any more damage. They saw to it that the Straw Hats learned of the execution. This guaranteed that, if they made it out of Sabaody alive, they would attempt to intervene and be crushed in our strongholds. Whitebeard was never more than a tertiary consideration. The deaths of Roger's heir and the Straw Hat Pirates, especially Monkey D. Luffy and Jeremiah Cross, were always the ultimate objective."
Onigumo and his escort shifted nervously at this, deeply uncomfortable at the revelation that one of the Four Emperors had been such a low priority for a war against all of his forces.
"And why were they so determined? For the same goal as twenty-two years ago: to kill the spirit of piracy itself. With Straw Hat, Fire Fist, and the Voices of Anarchy slain before the world, they would prove that no matter how far you ran, Justice would come due, and
nobody would be allowed to escape the World Government. That defiance of the law has no option in the end save for death."
"…Well, that seems to have been as spectacular a failure as the last time they tried it," Irian scoffed.
"Whitebeard's dying words will have almost as much an effect as Roger's," Onigumo concurred grimly. "So… what's their plan now?"
"Their plan is irrelevant. But I will tell you what
our plan is," Akainu said, rising to his feet and dragging the bed he was still shackled to with him. "We are going to take that information and disseminate it to every single person who still bears the Navy's colors. I will not take the slightest risk that they will learn it from
Jeremiah Cross instead. If we are going to lose soldiers from this revelation, then we will purge them now. We have already lost too many good men and women and I am
certain that the turncoats still have spies within our ranks."
He clenched his fists.
"Justice falls to us to enforce. And we do not need the continued presence of
anyone who will hinder or betray us in the face of what that means. Now, where is T-Bone's apprentice?"
"Seagirl Apprentice Yoko?" piped up one of Onigumo's escorts. "She and the beetle are two floors down, being treated along with the rest of the Glutton's victims. She's been swearing bloody vengeance against the Ship Cutter since she heard that he got away, and she damn near concussed the MP who tried to accuse her of knowing anything about the mutineers beforehand. I know we have to exercise all due caution, especially in these treacherous times, but it seems rather self-evident: T-Bone betrayed everyone, her included."
Akainu regarded the speaker with his usual scowl, nothing overtly concerning.
"
I will judge that for myself," he declared. And though there was no accompanying heat to accentuate the contrast, not a person in the room mistook the chills that shot down their spines. "And can someone get a nurse in here to uncuff me!"
Everyone faceplanted at that order. Even the still-bedridden Irian.
-o-
"
Next, on an equally sincere but much
less provocative note… to those who have already given so much, and who, sadly, will yet have to give so much more. In particular, all of those who turned against the Navy in the middle of the war. You really cannot comprehend how much it means to me. Thank you for everything that you have sacrificed. Every one of you, what you've done means more than I can ever pay back. All I can say is: thank you for listening to me."
Kobato wandered the docks of G-8, eyes focused on nothing in particular. Having only just resumed her study of medicine (a renewed willingness to practice
unfortunately did not translate to an immediate ability to do so), she'd been shunted off to the daily base care while the more seasoned doctors handled the flood of casualties from Marineford. But with most of G-8's personnel having been deployed
to Marineford, she found herself without any daily care to perform. All that had left her to do had been to track the soldiers arriving: too many in critical condition, yet not enough for how many had been deployed, especially since G-8 had to handle overflow casualties from other bases. Hence, the dockside walk.
She came to a stop, her gaze wandering to the ships that had come back. Most were already being repaired, either pierside or in one of G-8's drydocks. Some, though, were simply sitting forlornly, waiting for the facilities and manpower to free up. After so long listening to the SBS, to the ship that had become a person, she had grown to feel as much empathy looking at a damaged vessel as a damaged human. And she knew that what she saw now was only the fringes of a tempest whirling to engulf the world.
As the loudspeakers around the base broadcast the SBS (a desired lack of ignorance was the only excuse Jonathan needed), and as she felt her own heart stir within her at the realization that she was among those he was addressing, her eyes closed, stinging beneath their lids.
"…How am I supposed to feel about this, Dad?"
She turned to the old shipwright, who stood next to her, his gaze also upon the ships.
"I know… I know that this has to be the right way, with everything that's come to light, but I'm scared." Kobato clutched her hand to her breast, her teeth worrying at her lip. "The world is changing so fast, and so is what I thought I believed. So many people are suffering because of it. How am I supposed to feel? How am I supposed to trust that I'm doing what's right?"
For a long moment, there was no answer but the waves against the pier and the distant sounds of ship repair.
"Have you been keeping up with your studies?" Mekao asked at last.
Kobato blinked at the apparent non-sequitur. "Dad?"
"Ever since you met that furry whipper-snapper, you've put your desire to help people ahead of your fears of hurting them," he said. "You know the tradeoff that entails: a little pain in the present to spare a lot more in the future. So, have you been keeping up?"
"…Yes. I've been working hard to match the other doctors on the base," she answered slowly.
Mekao's gaze remained resolutely aimed forward. "There's an unfortunate fact of life, Kobato: nobody ever comes into this world without hurting someone. It all comes down to what their actions can do to make up for it. If you believe you're on the right side, then that's half of what matters. And the other half…"
He finally turned to look at her, revealing a pair of weary, bloodshot eyes.
"Whether we turn out to be following the right path or not, our roles take precedence. You fix people. I fix ships. Let the ones working to change the world worry about philosophy and morality. Regardless of who wins, every life and soul that we save along the way is proof of our convictions. Never forget, Kobato: nobody deserves to die in pain. Come hell or high water, new regime or old, that's what we decided, and that's what we'll stick to."
Kobato managed a tearful smile at that, and they embraced, Mekao patting his daughter's back.
…Then a few choice memories of the past few days sprang up, and his smile dropped into a scowl.
"Well, not quite," Mekao muttered. "
Almost nobody deserves to die in pain."
Kobato's smile dropped as well, and she slowly broke the embrace. "…I think Jessica is serving bouillabaisse today."
Mekao's only response was to begin trudging towards the mess hall, Kobato following close behind him.
-o-
"Alright, let's run through this one last time…"
"Come oooon, can't we just go home already? I'm tired! Plus, I remembered everything this time, we don't have to do this
every day!"
"So you locked the doors."
"Yup!"
"And the windows."
"Aaaaand the medicines!"
"Swept?"
"And mopped!"
"Records of all the patients we saw?"
"Alphabetized!"
"The tools?"
"Cleaned and put away! Like I said, I remembered eeeevery last thing!"
"Which, of course, means you
also laid out all the pills and bottles for everyone coming to pick up their prescriptions in the morning?"
Lori paused with her mouth open and finger raised in Martin's face. Almost immediately, she turned around. "Mr. Aladdin, we need the keys again!"
The Sun Pirate shook his head fondly as he handed over the keyring. "Almost perfect this time, just keep it up. You're good helpers, both of you."
Clownfish and blue tang beamed as the latter sped back into the infirmary. Aladdin, meanwhile, peered out the door at the darkening district.
"Mmm. You two had better stay the night, it looks like I've kept you over too late. Pray forgive me for asking you to shoulder such burdens." He bowed his head in apology.
"That's OK, Mr. Aladdin, we like helping around the clinic!" Lori said as she ran back out of the newly locked room and returned the keys to the old pirate. "Mr. Jinbe was right, working with you is a great way to talk with people who've met humans! We've heard lots of great stories 'cause of it! Er…" Her grin became noticeably shakier. "While you're, uh, stitching them up, I mean…"
Martin winced at
that particular reminder of the current state of affairs, and warily glanced around the darkening streets. "A-Anyway, you don't need to worry about us, w-we can… get home ourselves…?"
"The number of bite marks on today's patients can only mean that Daruma is on a tear," Aladdin answered, shaking his head. "It's not a risk you need to take."
Neither objected this time. Aladdin led them out, his charges clinging to his legs as he locked down the only entrance to his clinic. The only free medical center in the Fishman District, and the only one that had physicians willing to go to the main island and treat humans, was becoming more and more dangerous.
The New Fishman Pirates normally paid little heed to the SBS, but two weeks ago, when they'd heard a member of the royal family's voice on the show, that had changed. And ever since then their simmering hatred had begun to boil instead…
-o-
"
And third… I'm not usually this philosophical, but I've had what I've done literally shoved in my face recently, so I can't go without saying this. I need to express my gratitude for everything that this cruel, crazy, beautiful
world has to offer. For all the little pieces aligned in just the right ways, in just the right times. If just one thing had gone wrong then I, any of us really, might not be where we are today. It was a long, hard road. Some moments were incredible… others were incredibly cruel… but I will remember each and every one. Every instant that led us here to today, and that will still lead us into whatever future awaits."
The elder heard every word, as he had for the past many moons. He never spoke a word of his feelings, but they were as acute as those of his more…
outspoken charges.
Yet there remained a nagging feeling that had grown stronger the longer it had gone on. A feeling that only now seemed to settle into a restful realization.
…
I don't think that this is what you intended, he reflected, nobody there to bear witness to his words.
It does not seem like this was meant to be… and yet…
In a very slow motion, he raised his head and looked over his shoulder. His time-worn eyes beheld the ones he now lived to protect. They ran about, shrieking happily, oblivious to his gaze. One and all in a far better place since this stranger had reached out to them and touched their lives.
…
And yet… I do not think you would begrudge it… Joy Boy.
-o-
"
But I have more to share than just gratitude. For this final broadcast, there's one thing that I need to share. One thing that I need to stick in everyone's minds when they think of me and what I've done. One final
piece of knowledge I want you all to chew on while we're away. And that's the why
of my actions. The first reason I started the SBS was and still is what they did to Vivi, but from the moment I joined the Straw Hats, I had always planned on changing this world. I didn't expect it to be this fast or this widespread, but since it is, let me share my motivations.
Beyond the Straw Hats, beyond Alabasta, beyond Ohara and Baterilla… beyond even the scope of my knowledge. I started to oppose, and will always oppose the World Government, because of their perpetuation of The Most Despicable Lie, and their denial of The Most Glorious Truth."
You wanted to talk, and you have nothing to say?
Far from Marineford's bloodstained battlegrounds, the only Admiral to have escaped the war without grave injury stared blankly at the horizon in front of him.
You should know better than to expect someone to hand you a straightforward answer. I believe you've already made that mistake.
The place he had come for much needed reflection was utterly private. An island with no name and no life upon it, more of a rock at this point. A rock that was quite literally in the middle of nowhere, so unimportant it could not be found on a single map.
I'm starting to see why he gave up on you.
The only feature that was worth noting was a pool near its center.
…
Fine.
One that to this day, for reasons none dared fathom, contained thousands upon thousands of books, slowly disintegrating in the water.
You need a direction that much, Kuzan? Go back to where it all started, and remember the first
answer that you got.
Coming back to where it all began and hearing Cross's words echo out in the present, Tsuru's words echo out in his mind, pushing him to the brink…
But if you can't accept it, don't bother coming back. You wouldn't work under the mutt anyway.
Nobody would bear witness to it. It would be a long time—years, most likely—before anyone would know.
But from that day onward, the ashen ground of the place once called Ohara was covered by an ever-present sheet of snow.
-o-
"
Now, I imagine that most of you are wondering what in the hell I'm talking about. Well, I'll tell you. To start with, the Most Despicable Lie. It is a lie that the World Government has told for centuries, a falsehood that they have proliferated incessantly for hundreds of years, because it guarantees their dominance over this world. And that lie is thus: you are capable of nothing. Such a small thing, yet so profound: they tell the people of this world, over and over, that they are worthless. That they are nothing, can do nothing, and will never be
any more than they already are. That what they have is as good as things will ever be, and that to dream otherwise is folly. The World Government tells you that without them, you are nothing, that without them, you have no purpose or hope. They say that you are capable of nothing.
And it is, and will always be, nothing more than a lie."
-o-
One place thus far only lightly touched by the war and its aftereffects was a seafaring nation that shone like gold.
Actually, scratch the 'like': Gran Tesoro was, in the main, literally
built out of gold. And where anywhere else such ostentatious vanity would be tacky and tasteless, in Gran Tesoro the sheer overwhelming wealth so carelessly put on display intimidated.
The architecture was strongly aided by the individual in charge. A single, deranged,
ruthless demon of an individual, who at this moment was lounging at the head of a long table.
While normally Gild Tesoro
would be spending his time rehearsing for his next live performance or contemplating new attractions and forms of entertainment to lure in new victims
patrons, today was different. Today, the (second) Gold Tyrant of the New World was entirely focused on business.
Specifically, he and his executives,
and his island's middle-management—pit bosses, bookkeepers, et cetera—were assembled for the single most important task in any casino: setting the odds for bets. Though unlike similar establishments elsewhere, the stakes that Gran Tesoro's customers put money down on? Were not so insignificant as games of chance or skill.
"Deaths of captains, hundred to one odds," Gild Tesoro declared, his voice as confident as ever. "Collapse of crews, thousand to one odds. Deaths of royalty, ten thousand to one odds. Countries turning revolutionary, ten thousand to one odds. Outright
collapse of countries, hundred thousand to one odds."
Murmurs of agreement and scratches on paper met his words. Scratches that would become the odds that would set the standard for Gran Tesoro's 'economy', so to speak, for the foreseeable future.
"Suggestions on the cut-off point for when our high-rollers have 'turns of fortune'?" a pit-boss asked.
"Alert the house when a patron hits the ฿400 million mark, then direct them to the usual complementary VIP Suite," Baccarat declared.
"But that's a whole hundred-fifty million more than three months ago!" another pit-boss protested.
"And? What of it?" Dice grunted around his cigar. "With the rate we'll be pulling down whales, we can afford to take the hit on our margins. We'll make it back in no time,
especially if fresh-faced rookies get pushed over the edge
before we turn them around."
"Just make sure to keep an eye on our new guests and all should be well. Gold misters at full functionality, security working double overtime, the works," Tanaka drawled, patiently tapping out a staccato rhythm on the table. "If we've said it once, we've said it a hundred times: so long as we see where the money
is going, we can ensure it does not go where we do not
desire it to."
The second speaker slowly nodded. Meanwhile, the next question for their boss was asked by Baccarat.
"What's our policy on the involvement of the Straw Hats?"
The Casino King flashed a
far too shiny smile before leaning back and cackling. "If any of them are involved,
all deals become void! Blanket policy, no refunds and no debate! After all…" The man leaned back forward, a mad glint in his eye, and an even madder smile on his face. "The house must always win, and that's one game you can
only win by not playing."
Few showed pleased expressions at this declaration. None spoke disagreement.
"At least…" he added with a menacing smirk. "Until we can
rig it, just so!"
Absolute silence met that declaration. Unconcerned, he sat back down, a casual smirk on his face.
"And if the opportunity never comes, then that's a win on its own. Now, moving on. I'm in need of a new female lead. Usual business, reach out to our contacts, and make it happen before the next show
or I'll skin you all alive. Especially with the model industry dead in the water, you should have no trouble finding candidates. Got it?"
"
Aye, sir!"
As the meeting moved onto…
somewhat lighter matters, a maid hard at work cleaning the carpets slipped away from the door she'd been eavesdropping at.
'
And there's my in,' Carina mused, cheerfully humming her scales.
-o-
On a scarred but unbowed island that had once been the Navy's foremost training ground, scores of soldiers stood in lockstep formation before their scowling commanding officer.
"MARINES! What is our duty on these glorious seas?"
"TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT AND PUNISH THE GUILTY, SIR!"
"And has our flag upheld this duty thus far, Marines?"
"SIR, NO, SIR!"
"What crimes do you levy against our flag, Marines?"
"BLINDNESS TO CORRUPTION! INDIFFERENCE TO INJUSTICE! PARDONS FOR THE UNFORGIVABLE!"
"Heavy crimes indeed! And what does this make our flag?"
"GUILTY, SIR!"
"Indeed so. A terrible tragedy indeed. And worse yet, for having sailed under this flag, so too are we guilty of these self-same sins. Sins that can never be forgiven, nor forgotten. So I ask you, Marines! What would you guilty, damned souls do with your lives?"
"UPHOLD OUR DUTY, SIR!"
"Even should you yourselves be judged? Even at the cost of your own lives?"
"
SIR, YES, SIR!"
"…Then so be it. Henceforth, let us quit the purity of white, and don the black cloak of the damned! Henceforth, we shall venture into the deepest of pits, the darkest of nights, and we shall fight! Until our last breath is spent! Until our last drop of blood is shed! UNTIL THE BLUE SEAS RUN DRY! WE, THE NEO-MARINES, SHALL NEVER SURRENDER, UNTIL THE SCOURGE OF SIN IS CLEANSED FROM THIS WORLD!"
"
YES, FLEET ADMIRAL ZEPHYR, SIR!"
-o-
"
Now, I realize that learning of The Most Despicable Lie is jarring, I understand, I truly do, but do not lose hope. Do not lose hope, because as horrible as the World Government's Lie is, it is countermanded by that which they have tried to obfuscate with their Lies for all these years. And The Most Glorious Truth, which they would deny to their dying breath?
That you are capable of anything. Again, so simple, yet inherently true.
No matter how much the Government might Lie and call you capable of nothing, the Truth
is that anyone is capable of anything!
For ill sometimes, yes, but just as often for good! If you can imagine it, if you can dream it? If you have the will to reach
for it? Then it is possible
for you to achieve it. Oh, it will be hard, harder than any of you can possibly imagine, but it is that alone which is most Glorious: the possibility
of it all. People are filled with boundless potential which cannot be denied once acted upon, and no amount of Lies will ever, EVER!
be able to suppress this single. Shining. Truth."
-o-
It was a dark and stormy night.
While this literary device normally served to mark the beginning of a hero's journey, or of a villain's grand design, this instance was different. Rather, it instead marked the… '
regrettable' end of a villainous scheme. More than one, in fact.
On the island in question, the ground lay muddy and ashen from the destruction that had ripped through but a scant few hours ago. Yet the fires had barely had any time to burn before the heavens gracelessly broke their floodgates, and a veritable deluge plunged the ravaged island back into darkness, the gloom of devastation broken only by the occasional crack of lightning.
The only things still living on the island were a group of pirates that had, a few days ago, aimed to take their first giant step in conquering the world. Now, though, they were a sorry sight. Their shanghaied submarine was little more than scrap metal, the result of pushing it to its limits for too long with no expertise to know what those limits were, and their rampage to vent their anger now left them without any substantial shelter.
And so the now-infamous Blackbeard Pirates were huddled together under a makeshift tent—a hastily and haphazardly erected bunch of tarps, really—vainly trying to keep the wind and rain from extinguishing the fire that was their only source of light and heat.
They were a (again, subjectively) pitiful motley bunch: ranging from a wrestler to a drunkard to a twice-fallen tyrant, all monsters of some variety, all in discontent and decrepitude.
"
MRMRMRMMMMPH—BUT BIG BROTHER—RMMMMMRPH!"
…Though at that moment, the biggest slimeball among them was quite
literally a ball of slime, in that he was currently in the form of a massive amount of sentient mud gagging his big-mouthed lizard-haired gravedigger of a younger brother.
"Hmm—
hurk…" Doc Q hummed thoughtfully through hacking coughs. "Interesting technique to wire a jaw… are you—
wheeze…—sure you don't want me to help? It wouldn't—
huff…—be a problem…"
"Not to worry, Doc, not to worry, I have it all under control! No need to check him at all! Just stay right there, everything's fine!" Caribou declared with an ear to ear grin. Wheen the decrepit doctor looked away, he leaned in close to his still-struggling brother and hissed quietly, "
Keep your mouth shut, fool!"
Was attempting to smother Coribou a bit of an escalation in the brothers' usual antics? Perhaps. But this time, the sweaty idiot's brainlessness
really took the cake. The last thing Caribou needed was for his dopish sibling to clarify his lies.
Because yes, he
knew he'd only absorbed the unconscious—and regrettably poison-drenched—Blackbeards so he could turn in their heads.
And yes, he'd only gone looking for an infirmary to save his own neck when it turned out the poison could get him from inside his mire.
And
of course he'd only vomited up the Blackbeards within grabbing distance of the antidotes they'd needed by sheer coincidence!
But they sure as hell never needed to know that!
And though in his slimy heart he still cared about his brother, Coribou's survival instincts tended not to kick in against anyone who
hadn't tried to kill him already.
Speaking of which…
"Hey, swamp-shit, when's this so-called 'employer' of yours calling?" Avalo Pizarro growled, stalking up to Caribou in high dudgeon and his knuckles cracking up a storm. "We need a new ship yesterday, and I'm getting sick and tired of this mudhole!"
"We wouldn't be stuck on said mudhole if
someone!" Catarina Devon snapped, shooting a gimlet eye at the member of their group who was obliviously knocking back a bottle. "Had actually done his
job and kept that last salvo from hitting the sub's engines!"
"Hey, I hit
one of 'em, don't that count for—
hic!—nuthin' at all?" Vasco Shot slurred back, any real threat in his tone destroyed the fact that he was pointing to Devon's left.
"YOU WERE SEEING DOUBLE, YOU IDIOT!"
"Hey, who'ze you callin' an idiot?! …No, really, who? I forgot what we weres talkin' 'bout…"
"
RAGH! USELESS! EVERY ONE OF YOU, USELESS! THERE ISN'T ANYONE WORTH EVEN
HALF A DAMN IN THIS ENTIRE CREW!"
"I mean… if it weren't for me, holding up the sub, you'd have all sunk already?" piped up Sanjuan, standing just offshore with water up to his breastbone, as sheepishly as a mountain-sized Wolf could.
"SHUT IT, WIDE-LOAD!"
"Okay…"
"And as for the
rest of you—!"
"
Pshhh-koh…"
Devon's nascent tirade trailed off, her eyes warily tracking their most inhuman member as he shoved his way to his prosthetic feet to shamble away from the dying fire.
"And where do you think you're going, iron-sides?" Burgess rumbled, glaring daggers into the ex-jailer's back.
"Anywhere…
Pshhh-koh… but here…" the killing-machine ground out, meeting the wrestler's gaze with a mask of indiscriminate, but for now low-burning, hate. "There's no reason to keep up this charade."
"The hell are you—?!"
"We all joined Teach because he said had a plan to seize the world. And we believed him. But…
Pshhh-koh… his plan failed… so now there's no reason to stay." Shiliew turned his back on the group, his coat rendering him little more than a silhouette in the torrential downpour. "So I'm leaving. And anyone who stays… is nothing short of a fool."
That statement took about two seconds to sink in before half a dozen more people stood up to leave.
Lafitte shot to his feet, his plastic smile cracking. He scrambled in front of the departing pirates, waving his hands in a panic. "N-N-Now now, let's all calm down and just try to talk this—"
"Get in my way, Mime, and I'll kill you," Pizarro spat, shoving Lafitte aside and kneeling down to loot what scarce resources they had.
"Yeh, whut he said! I'm goin' back to doin' my
own thing! Ain't gonna do nuthin' for nobody, no how!" Vasco Shot agreed, joining Pizarro.
"Shoulda done it from the start, no
fucking idea why I bothered listening to a crazy bastard like that to begin with! Screw this crew, I'm gonna go start a war or two to take the edge off!" Catarina sneered, hooking her sword into her belt.
"And I should, um, probably go back to Elbaf…" Sanjuan mused, shifting about in the sea. "I need to see if there are any giants that I need to kill for threatening my title…"
"Now, see here—!"
While Burgess and Lafitte busied themselves trying to dissuade the deserters, Van Augur and Doc Q (and Stronger) remained quiet. Whether they too were contemplating leaving, or simply wished to remain out of the worst of the storm (and out of the impending crossfire) was anyone's guess. Meanwhile, the burgeoning argument continued to drift away from the light, words rapidly becoming heated.
But before the first fist—or worse, more likely—could be thrown, the one pirate who hadn't said a word or moved an inch since they settled around the fire spoke two short sentences.
"Go right ahead. But you won't live long."
The escalating argument abruptly died, everyone present turning to look at the speaker. Shiki the Golden Lion's tone was calm and casual, almost carefree. It was this abnormal shift from his usual arrogant rants, more than anything else, that drew everyone's attention.
Of course, this was not the type of company to stay in stunned silence for long. "And why…
Pshhh-koh… is that?" Shilieuw intoned. "Feeling sympathy… for your fellow failure?"
It wasn't much, but the schadenfreude prompted a brief round of snickers and mocking chuckles. Contrary to expectations, rather than descend into a frothing rage, Shiki just shrugged.
"It's true, you have very little reason to listen to me. I've lost a lot of respect. It's all my fault, really, for letting my pride take control," Shiki declared, his zen demeanor unshaken. "Before Straw Hat, before even Roger… my biggest mistake was that I thought I could go independent. Thought I could go my own way, start my own empire."
The brief mirth was long since gone, and with every word unease crept in to replacement. Creeping became a stream when Shiki chuckled darkly, yet ruefully.
"But now… now I know better. Know that it was folly,
idiocy to ever dream otherwise. That man's crew… once you join it, you can never leave. I never knew Teach before he came to Impel Down, but 'Blackbeard'? Oh, I knew him the moment I saw his face. The others, they'll pay for their treachery, they'll pay. Hell,
Edward already has… but not me. No, not me. I know my place, and I'll live in it for as long as he'll let me."
Four members of the crew, the ones who'd sailed with Blackbeard the longest, could genuinely say later that they were merely unnerved and not scared spitless by that little speech. The newcomers could not, and some did better than others at hiding it in that moment. But no matter how scared they were, they all paid very close attention as Shiki, one of the proudest pirates in the word, shamelessly bootlicked with a contented smile.
"Plan A failed. But it's a minor setback. Our Captain is destined to shake this world. And if you need any more convincing… has anyone noticed that he's not the only one missing?"
That got everyone to stop pretending. All the gathered buccaneers, even Shiliew, knew fear in the face of Byrnndi World. Impel Down, after all, had quite vigorously agreed with the Government's decision to keep that man on ice. And more than fear of World, it was uncertainty that kept them all rooted to where they stood: uncertainty as to who would come out on top of the clash they all
knew was happening right now.
Uncertainty as to who they'd prefer to come out on top.
"Jihahahaha… You all just sit back and watch. Watch… and bear witness to the darkness that shaped our world into what it is today."
-o-
It was a dark and stormy night. And it was even darker where the Logia of Darkness sat, fuming, just a little bit into a cave on the other side of the island from his crew's encampment that blocked most of what little light there was. It fit his mood; since devastating the island, he'd sat here, in darkness, muttering feverishly to himself.
He had lost before. Recently, in fact, he had lost to Magellan. But he always got back up and took his revenge in less than a day, and all was well again.
But this loss was different. This time, he'd been
thwarted. Utterly. There was no way for him to claim the prize he'd poured all his effort into acquiring. It was a new sensation for him, and he found he didn't like it. Even the idea of revenge felt hollow when he imagined it.
He needed time alone to decide his path forward. Time to get the urge to destroy everything the light touched out of his system.
And the towering silhouette that appeared at the mouth of the cave was the opposite of what he wanted. Even if it was exactly what he needed.
"…World. You're on the edge of mutiny right now. I said
don't disturb me."
"Mutiny?" World grunted. "
Barororo! You can't mutiny against a Captain you never followed, you fat fool!"
Utterly unbothered that Teach was now getting to his feet, World jostled a handful of pebbles he'd picked up.
"You're just another rookie who blew it when it mattered most. And you blew your weakness to me, too. So, any last words?"
"…Good."
"Eh?"
"Means I won't have to justify killing you."
He still hadn't turned around when World saw him yank on a rope. And it was less the absence of light and more the muffled sound of the rain that told him that something had now blocked the cave entrance.
Something that he realized very quickly was a black velvet tarp.
For the first time in a very long time, Byrnndi was acquainted with the feeling of
panic. He spun around, as fast as he could. Swung his hand, pebbles arcing out to perforate his captor—
They hadn't gotten two inches before something grabbed the wrist holding the pebbles, prompting them to clatter harmlessly to the floor. Something drained at Byrnndi's strength, and his legs gave out, bringing him to his knees.
"It was always my plan to make the world tremble before me, and I'm still gonna do it…"
For the first time in World's life, he felt scared… and small.
"
One way… or another."
So very, very small.
-o-
Shiki's words had had an effect on the hardened criminals. For a good few minutes, they stared apprehensively into the storm. But let nobody say that these were the most mentally sound people in the world, nor the most patient.
"Ya know what? I think I'd rather take my chances," Pizarro scoffed, levering himself to his feet again.
"Chances with what, exactly?"
The
CRACK! of thunder tearing through the air served to both herald Teach's return from the darkness,
and to stifle his crew's cries of shock.
Marshall D. Teach looked like a drowned rat, his eyes squinted to keep out the rain and his hair and beard matted across his face. But the number of new injuries he sported… was zero. He was disturbingly clean.
The only one not shaken was Shiki, who merely chuckled, "Welcome back, Captain. We've been waiting for you."
Teach grunted in acknowledgement, his expression not shifting an inch. "You were talking about something?"
Catarina covered her shaky breathing with a quick cough. "We, uh… were wondering when you and World would be getting back, is all? Just, you know… worried?"
"World won't be coming back."
The assembled pirates stiffened, and Pizarro opened his mouth to say
something asinine—
CLANG!
Only for all words to die when a mangled helmet was tossed into the center of the camp.
World's helmet.
"Ever."
(In the years to come, the Blackbeards would several times contemplate returning to the site of ruin that rumors rechristened World's End Island, to look for its namesake corpse.
Every time, they would lose their nerve.
For fear of what they might find.
For an even greater fear of what they might not.)
Everyone stared at the helmet, be it in shock, horror, or in Shiki's case, dull interest. He let out a puff of cigar smoke before voicing the question none of the others dared to:
"So, what happened with him?"
Shiki actually straightened when Blackbeard stalked toward him, but Blackbeard marched past without comment or action and so his eyes and the rest of the crew's quickly turned toward his
actual target. Sanjuan Wolf, who hadn't moved from where he was, stared at him warily.
"World made a decision. We all make decisions in life. That's part of life. World? He made a stupid decision. And it cost him. But I did respect him for it."
Vasco Shot swallowed audibly. "You… respected him for trying to mutiny?" he asked, in a terrifyingly sober voice.
Blackbeard's paused on the shoreline. When he spoke, his voice was in the same dulled tone as every other word he'd said.
"Well, of course I did. Even if he made a stupid decision, he followed through with it. All the way to the bitter end. And I can respect that. Because in that regard…"
Blackbeard held his hand out, as though he were reaching out to grasp something. Sanjuan Wolf stared down at the little man in confusion…
And then from one moment to the next, found himself, for the first time in as long as he could remember
, staring
up at a hand bigger than he was.
The World's Largest Giant had
one second to squeal in terror before the palm
slammed onto his head and forced his head beneath the waves.
"
He was just like me."
Shiki blinked, mildly unnerved. Everyone else was terrified beyond words. How could they not be, when there was a Titan—a
pillar of darkness, stretching to the sky itself—within spitting distance of them, effortlessly drowning the largest man in the world with one hand?
"
Stubborn, determined, dogged."
And then there was what he was saying. The voice of
sheer evil, like massive boulders grinding against one another,
terrifyingly casual, drowning out the thunder rumbling around them. Casual and even, while Wolf
flailed in the waves, fighting for even a single gasp of air.
"
These are the inherent qualities of greatness. The sheer force of will needed to make a decision, and stick with it through everything the world throws at you. No matter the pain you are dealt, or the suffering you endure, or the agony you survive by the skin of your teeth, you hang on to your decision, with all you have, and you follow it to the ends of the earth. Past the very mountains of madness."
Before long, Sanjuan Wolf's flailings weakened, fading away into a terrifying stillness. The Titan's hand jerked his head from the waves, letting the mega-giant cough and wheeze and hack up hogsheads of seawater.
"
Of course I respect World. After all, I've been sticking with my own decision all my life. Through hell or high water, I have had only one driving force in all my life, and I intend to see it through. No matter what I have to do, where I have to destroy, or who I have to kill."
The Titan slowly turned around and
stared down at the pirates cowering before him.
"
I am the man who will be King of the Pirates. And you're going to do everything you can to make that happen."
A deaf man could have heard the 'or else' that those words carried. Then, in the blink of an eye, the Titan was gone, and Teach stood in its place.
His stance was relaxed.
His expression was blank.
And his eyes were pits of darkness, from which no light could eascape.
"Is that clear?"
Twelve of the Blackbeard Pirates snapped into shaky,
desperate salutes, and from all of them—even Wolf,
especially Wolf—the cry of "YES, CAPTAIN!" echoed to the ends of the island.
The thirteenth of their number, meanwhile, merely raised his cigar in a casual acknowledgement, and gave him a wide, resigned smile. "As ever and always, my captain. To the end of the world."
Satisfied with the declaration, Blackbeard marched up to the campfire and planted himself beside it, ignoring the exceptionally wide berth his crew was giving him.
As for Caribou, though still wrapped around his brother he was no longer on the verge of smothering him. Coribou, he reckoned, wouldn't say another word for a month. Both of them were now fully aware that they had stumbled into something that they would never get out of alive. But at the least, maybe if they kept their heads down, didn't draw any attention—
"Hey. Caribou."
Why did the world hate him so much?!
"Y-Yes, Captain?" the slimeball simpered, rubbing his sleeved hands as grovelingly as he could manage.
"This employer of yours, the person who put you and the Worlds up to hitting Impel Down," Blackbeard said, not looking up from the fire. "You're sure he can get us a new ship, right."
"Ah—y-y-yes, yes he can!" Caribou's head was a blur, he was nodding it so fast. "Our employer is—I-I-I mean,
was? Was! A very resourceful individual! Price was
noooo object to them, and I'm sure a ship will be of no issue, particularly as I still have the prisoners he wanted me to acquire! Once I call him, he'll get us a ship for certain! And-And-And! I'm sure you'll be
quite interested in conversing with him yourself! After all, a person like this… their services would be very… ah,
beneficial, shall we say? To an undertaking like ours! It just, you know… might be useful?"
"Hmph. I'll keep that in mind." And that,
mercifully, was that.
Caribou's heart rate didn't slow for the rest of the night. He wasn't fool enough to say that things couldn't get any worse, but when his idea of improvement was having
one boss who punished failure with death instead of
two, things had definitely never
been worse.
-o-
"
And so, the world knows the Lie and the Truth. Honestly, been thinking about spilling those for a while. Now, as to the consequences
of these revelations… well, let's be honest: for many people these truths must seem too self-evident to be of any real note. Or perhaps they're irrelevant to your lives, and will have no great effect on how you go about your days. And that is all entirely fair. Because these revelations are only meant to be of any import to those who weren't
aware of them. To those who have had the Lie ripped away, and the Truth unveiled to them. If even one person has had a revelation from my words, has found the courage to set off in search of their dreams, and fly in the face of what is apparently impossibility itself…
then this all will have been worth it.
"
Because I guarantee you… now that the Truth is out there, there will be so many
who set forth in search of their dreams, in search of achieving the impossible. And not a single one of them
will forget who it was that has Lied to them. All. Their. Lives.
"
So enjoy that
parting shot, for as long as you can."
-o-
The living war machine stood in front of the elevator out of Level Six, the unconscious, moaning bodies of the impertinent fools who'd tried to stop him lying on the floor around his feet. Two guards remained standing, resolutely guarding the door, and while their ability to maintain bowel function did them credit, the fact remained that they were visibly, absolutely terrified. Case in point, the mere fact that they had used their Transponder Snail to dial the Warden instead of futilely attempting to stop the war machine.
"
Warden Hannyabal speaking."
"This is Douglas Bullet. I'm leaving."
"
WHAA—how in the—?! Why—! How did you get out of—"
"The intruder unlocked my shackles. Nobody locked them back."
His bland tone prompted a vein to pulse briefly on the snail, which grumbled to itself for a moment before frowning silently.
The guards' hands twitched towards their weapons, awaiting the order to subdue him. Hence, they nearly fell over in shock when their orders came through.
"
Let him pass."
They boggled at the snail, which was still frowning.
"
Escort him to Level 1. Vice Warden Magellan will meet you there."
Understanding and relief flooded their beings as the snail hung up. Their fear didn't fully subside as they entered the elevator—it
couldn't with
Douglas motherfucking Bullet riding up beside them
completely unshackled—but the promise of Magellan's presence was a massive reassurance.
Minutes ticked by as the elevator climbed, the ride otherwise silent, nobody saying a word.
When Level 1 finally came into view, the doors opened to Magellan already clad in a violet sheen. The guards retreated to a corner with almost unseemly haste as he addressed Bullet.
"What, exactly, makes you believe that you are allowed to leave simply because you have decided to?"
"I have decided to accept the deal."
"…Deal? What deal?"
"The only one relevant for anyone in my position."
It took less than a second of consideration before Magellan's eyes widened. The Vice-Warden's mouth dropped open, fully prepared to tell Bullet
exactly where he could stuff said 'deal.'
"Accepted. Vice-Warden Magellan, stand down."
Only for his mouth to slam
shut when fate declared that it had
other plans for the abomination before him. A declaration made in the form of a group of individuals who had
not been present several seconds prior, let alone standing directly behind him. The venom staining his body bubbled in fury as he turned around. His anger didn't dim despite his surprise at the white-clad Government agents standing there.
Bullet, for his part, simply walked past them all towards the exit. Trying desperately to keep his temper, Magellan glowered at the man leading them.
"Cipher Pol Aegis Zero. What business do you have here?"
"Just a bit of cleanup," huffed a woman with puffy blonde hair and a prominent white choker. Her voice was tinny and metallic, contrasting wildly with her prim demeanor. "That self-absorbed fool Ratchet tried to break his agreement, yes? We'll take him off your hands, and you can rest assured you'll never see him again."
That was
almost enough to calm Magellan. He might have preferred Ratchet dead, but he definitely wanted him gone.
"Very well, his holding cell is on Level 4," he said as the earlier pair of guards returned to the elevator.
"We will also be taking Nightin of the World Pirates."
Magellan's anger began simmering again. "By what reasoning? She is a wanted pirate who broke into this prison. She is under
our jurisdiction."
"She also has yet to receive a proper trial, or been sentenced to any form of internment. We will be taking her, so that Justice may be
properly carried out. Naturally, we will also need for you to provide the necessary antidotes so that she does not expire during transit."
The concentrated rage nearly made Magellan black out. Now that it was
convenient for them, they chose to bother by the book. Just so that for
whatever reason, they could take the
one single person who had violated Impel Down and not escaped or died—the slight salve on the prison staff's pride—and spirit them away for their own devices.
His mind seized on the only other thing he could argue at this point.
"Fine. But that does not apply to
Bullet. He was charged with hundreds of crimes against humanity, terrorism against the stability of the world, sentenced to
thirteen consecutive life sentences—!"
"All of those charges are hereby suspended."
Magellan
swore he chipped a tooth, so hard was he scowling.
"That.
Thing. Is a
demon."
"And it has taken the deal. So now, it is the
World Government's demon."
"Magellan, has it still not sunk in?" the metal-voiced woman simpered. "You've already been demoted because you haven't been showing the Government the proper respect. It's time to come to heel, and acknowledge that we know best."
The smirk on her face made it clear that she knew exactly how Magellan felt about the situation, and she derived great joy from that fact. She held his gaze for a moment longer than the others before turning her back and entering the elevator. Only one of the guards escorted them down; the other stood by, his mouth a grim line.
"Inform Hannyabal that I am going to jump into the hole to Level 6. Headfirst. Hopefully, the concussion will help this migraine," Magellan said as soon as the elevator was out of sight.
While in freefall a minute later, he reflected on the irony of what had just happened. The past four days of conversation with 'Cancer' and 'Pisces' had been promising, but not quite enough to convince him to make their alliance permanent. Yet the past four minutes had obliterated whatever reservations he had left.
-o-
"
Now, with all that having been said, let's wind this down. Lastly, and perhaps the most important thing I need to say, is this final promise: the Straw Hat Pirates will return. We have disbanded, dispersed, and disappeared for now, but it won't be forever. We're not yet equal to the challenge of the New World, so we're going to change that. We've gone into hiding to train for the second half of our journey. And someday… maybe in a few years, maybe a decade, they'll come back together. And when they do, they're going to take the world by storm."
'
How did I get here?' was the question that ran through Vice-Admiral Momonga's mind when he awoke in the dark, in a different room from where he'd gone to sleep.
There were two answers to such a loaded question.
On the one hand, he was here because at his core, Momonga was a simple man with a simple and familiar life's story: in his youth, Momonga was a person who sought out strength. He knocked over every dojo he could find, challenged every swordsman he encountered, all simply for the thrill of it. To better himself, to fight ever stronger people. A hollow existence, upon reflection, but a simple one, and no less enjoyable for it.
Then, by coincidence, Momonga happened to save a town from a gang of attacking pirates when he challenged their captain to a duel. There were no stakes, but the aftermath of his victory - the relief of the people he'd saved, the praise he'd received, instead of the usual scorn - was like a drink of water when dying of thirst. And on top of that, the pirate had been quite a bit stronger than the usual fare he'd challenged.
After that, Momonga put his skills to use by backing a cause: he pledged his blade to the Marines, and never looked back. And for the longest while, life had been… acceptable. Better fights, a decent sense of purpose, even men he could admit he'd been proud to serve with at his beck and call. He'd even managed to stay out of politics during his rise to his current position, attaining his coat with skill and will alone. In all, a respectable life and a career well lived, by his reckoning.
By
his reckoning, anyway.
This past year… to learn of all that had gone on in the shadows, the lies he'd been told and believed for so long, everything that had been
hidden from him! But then, it wasn't as if he'd ever bothered to look very hard to begin with. His attention hadn't been on anything that he couldn't perceive or touch with his own hands, and that was on him.
Which left the Vice-Admiral where he was now: lost and confused as he pondered where he belonged in the world, and to what cause he should pledge his blade to now. All because he'd been so focused on his own pursuits, to the exclusion of all else.
Of course, this was only the
personal answer to his initial question.
The
literal answer was that Momonga had
frustratingly little clue as to how he'd come to be seated in a dark room: the last thing he remembered was going to sleep in his personal cabin,
still exhausted from the war a few days prior, only to reawaken chained to a wall in a prison cell. A prison cell that looked a lot more like a well-kept, if Spartan bedroom than a place to keep criminals, but he was still bound in place, so his already uncharitable mood was downright Scrooge-ian.
Fortunately, this question was answered when the door to his cell swung open: a very recognizable silhouette stood in the frame.
"'Ship-Cutter' T-Bone," Momonga drawled, eyeing the gaunt man. "I will admit, I thought your actions during the war were the height of your audacity. It's rather disconcerting to be wrong so often in so short a period of time."
The decidedly
ex-Captain of the Marines hummed noncommittally as he stepped into the cell, pulling the door shut behind him. "You will find, Vice Admiral, that one comes to question many things when one finds the temerity to look beneath the surface of what the world presents to you. And no, sir, that was not a jab at your expense."
Momonga snorted dismissively. "First, don't call me 'sir' anymore. We're no longer in the same chain of command, not that I ever cared for honorifics to begin with. And second…" The Marine bit out a sharp
tsk. "It might as well be. Focus can only be an excuse for so much."
T-Bone strode forth into the room and seated himself before the Vice-Admiral in the seiza position. "The past is immaterial. What matters now is your present, and how it will shape your future."
"A recruitment offer, then," Momonga surmised, his expression blank.
"Or a day that never existed, if you decline," T-Bone said calmly.
"And if I accept, mutiny against the Marines?"
"Among other things, though our reach and goals extend far beyond just the Navy."
Momonga's eyes closed.
"…Tell me everything. But keep in mind," Momonga stated firmly. "I do
not accept yet. I simply intend to have all the facts before reaching a decision."
"Very well, then. But you will accept, Momonga."
"Because you think you can break me?"
"No. Because while you are a simple man, Momonga… I also believe that you are a
decent man. And that as such, you will make the right decision. So! It begins with Jeremiah Cross."
"And
just like that, I have a migraine."
"I'd be surprised if you didn't."
-o-
"
As for why I'm saying 'they' and not 'we', I'm not confident in my chances of making it. But don't you white-hats start dancing on my grave just yet, because I'm sure as hell going to try. I'm going to fight, and claw, and scratch by as much as I damn well can, until I've got nothing
left to give. But even if that should come to pass, then I'm not going quietly. One way or another, I leave you this last message with absolute certainty: regarding Monkey D. Luffy. Regardless of whether or not I return, he will. And when he does… one last time for the road, Captain?"
For almost a full minute, the world was silent.
"
Dot dot—KA-LICK!"
And then the unforgettable voice of the man who had challenged the world three times and never lost spoke. And the entire world bore witness to his will.
"
My name is Monkey D. Luffy. And I am the man who will be King of the Pirates."
-o-
"Thank you… and thank you all for listening to me. This is Jeremiah Cross—"
"
AND SOUNDBITE—"
"Signing off… for what might be the last time."
And with that, I put down the microphone with a heavy sense of finality. It was… harder to let go of than I'd expected, only emphasized when, for the first time since I received it, I hovered my finger over the power button. And… then I held my finger there. Because if I pressed that button, it would mean…
"Not even a full second. Fastest case of second thoughts I've ever seen."
I looked up from the transceiver to one of the first… well, 'allies' I'd made in this place since getting my head on straight.
Would have been nice to call her a friend, but I'd almost been
literally stabbed in the back three times over the past week, and had gone through a dozen different team lineups in that same span.
If she managed to survive past a month, then maybe I'd update our relationship status.
Still, it wasn't normal circumstances that I'd be accepting therapy from someone in a black cloak and an unmarked white mask. Didn't even have the temerity to ask for five beris for it.
"It's… not exactly a small decision, Duze," I pointed out.
Her mask tilted patiently. "No, it isn't, is it? After all, according to you, that device has defined your life for the past year. It's not just a
part of your identity, it
is your identity. So to set it aside, even temporarily… do you think you're prepared for that?"
I rolled the words over in my head, a grimace on my face. It took less than a second for me to have my answer.
"No, I'm not."
And with that, I pressed the button. I swear, that click might as well have been a gunshot.
"But I wouldn't be me at all if I didn't boldly go where others didn't dare tread," I said, plastering a shaky grin on my face as I stowed the now-inert piece of machinery back in my bag.
She nodded. "All that being said, keep your past in mind as you move forward. Retaining a firm grasp on who you are is going to be key to maintaining your sanity. Forget it, and you'll be no better than the beasts hunting us. And I don't just mean the ones with more than two legs."
She had said that at least a dozen times already over the past few days. But when part of the daily routine was fending off howling and
literally bloodthirsty lunatics, it was a very mandatory part of survival.
"Keep moving forward," Lassoo said, nudging his head beneath one of my hands. I let out a sigh as I petted him, the action helping me keep myself anchored.
"Trust in the friends around you," Funkfreed agreed, his trunk pressing gently against my face.
"YOU'RE
not alone," Soundbite concurred, tapping his eyes against my neck.
I took the precious time that I needed to breathe, then opened my eyes again and turned to look at the commotion going outside. The few lights we had danced in the endless darkness, those holding them working to hold up the thin, swiss-cheese perimeter we'd managed to establish.
"When you're ready, Cross," she prompted, her posture relaxed. "We can continue with your session if you wish."
I took a moment to draw in a steadying breath as I contemplated that. My only response was to slip my gas mask down over my face. Wish I didn't have to wear the stuffy thing, didn't even really
work with the crack in its visor, but as I'd come to quickly learn, a measure of anonymity was a necessary part of survival when going out and about in Serpent. When you're locked in a human slaughterhouse, you
really didn't want anyone to draw a bead on your face so they could hunt you down later.
"Later, then," Duze nodded. I returned the gesture, promising to continue soon.
With my head as centered as it was going to get, I stepped out of the shack and cast my gaze over my assembled "forces".
Almost everyone who had joined up only did so out of survival and/or because I was, apparently, the outright craziest bastard in this hellhole. Most of them were bedraggled and vagrant-looking survivors, the majority of whom would either shuffle off or bite it before the "day" was out.
But there were a few who naturally caught my eye. A few who had affirmed that they would lay down their lives for my plan, who I had at least a
small bit of confidence and trust in.
Like a figure who was twice as tall as I was hauling an armload of rubble across our encampment.
Like a white-haired woman casually erecting and collapsing string figures with the silken threads strung between her fingers.
Like the hunched-over man warming his hands at a fire, which in turn was burning brighter for his presence.
And like Duze. She had been a godsend. I hadn't even realized how jumbled my thought process was when I saved Benedia, and I probably would have shattered if I had kept cracking like that.
…Benedia… wait,
where in the hell was—?! …oh crap.
NOM!
"SONNUVA—!" I strangled a bluestreak in my throat as I felt an outright
bear trap clamp down on my left shoulder. I jerked my head around to glare at the culprit who was
gnawing at my scapula. "For the last time. S
top. Doing. That."
"Mmmm, but yu tashte sho goo…" was Benedia's garbled response as she
kept trying to bite off my arm.
"…
Hey, Cross? You can THANK ME ANYTIME, Y'KNOW
."
"What the hell are you talking about?" I snarled as I worked on levering my quote-unquote
comrade's teeth out of my flesh, which was
not as easy as it ought to be. Seriously, was she spring-loaded or something?!
"
Giving you PAIN TOLERANCE FOR BITING~" Soundbite sing-sang.
"Yeah, and you can thank
me for every day I haven't
drowned you in your own mucus yet. Keyword there being
yet, by the way, I'd suggest you
mind it." And with that final declaration, I managed to yank Benedia off and shove her in front of me, keeping a firm grasp on the back of her collar.
I then raised my voice to the rest of my followers. "ALL RIGHT, PEOPLE! The 33rd Block Reavers hit us hard a few hours ago and I know we're still smarting from it, but we've built up a bit of a reputation at this point and we
cannot let it slip now! Everyone who's good to fight, group up so we can split you in half. Usual deal: away team makes them bleed, home team keeps shit locked down. We hit them hard, hit them fast, and we
do not stay separated for any longer than we have to. We clear?"
A general chorus of agreement made the rounds of the assembled convicts. Only about half of them had any real heart to it, but that was a major improvement from the start of this week.
"Right then," I grunted as I dumped Benedia to the ground like a sack of flour. I stalked through the middle of the pack, the cannibal trailing close behind me. I stuck my hand out, and Funkfreed filled my hand with cold steel.
"
Let's get this done."
And with a small army at my back, we strode out into the Darkness.
Just another day in Hell: fighting for the chance, however slim, however
impossible, that the next would be our last.
-o-
Alvida wouldn't deny that she was nervous when the 'small-time' pirate she had regularly belittled while they were allied (and outright
usurped when he was arrested) returned to the Big Top. And contrary to what she'd have once thought, the army of ex-Impel Down prisoners following him
wasn't the main reason for her trepidation.
The nervousness only grew when the first thing that the man did upon setting foot on the Big Top again was walk right up to her. He looked her in the eyes for a few seconds, and then walked right past her, up to a balcony where he could stare down on the whole deck. It was a dramatic position, she had to admit. Within seconds everyone present had his eyes on him, riveted.
"The truth of who and what I am is out now," he announce. "All of you know it. And all of you know the kind of fire that's going to bring down on us from now on."
Every man and woman present listened in utter silence. The clown's lips slowly split into a wide grin.
"So, let's make this clear: I don't want to be the Pirate King, never have. Witnessing the first king's journey was more than enough for me. I just want to carve my own path on this sea, with loot, adventure, and most of all,
plenty of flashy carnage. And I'm the last person in the world who'll hold it against you if you don't want to face the danger. Whoever wants to stay, whoever wants to go, now's your chance to make your choice."
The words hung in the air, and there was a wave of huddled, muttered conversations. It was really only to be expected with a revelation of
this scale, but it left a stifling tension in the air. And when the tension was finally broken, it was in the only way possible for the Buggy Pirates: flashily.
"Bu-ggy! Bu-ggy! Bu-ggy!"
Cabaji and Mohji (and Richie) raised the chant first, drawing everyone's eyes. And from there? It spread like wildfire. From old crew to new, a singular chant extolling their newly returned and newly badass boss.
"
BU-GGY! BU-GGY! BU-GGY!"
"THREE CHEERS FOR THE BOSS!"
"GOOD TO HAVE YOU BACK, CAPTAIN!"
"YOUR NOSE IS AS GREAT AS EV—
AARGH!"
That particular dimwit got tackled and gagged before Buggy could be tempted to blow a hole through his own ship, but then they wouldn't be the Buggy Pirates without some (or a lot) of idiots thrown in the mix.
Oblivious to the near-miss—and really, anything besides the roaring acclamation—Buggy grinned from ear to ear.
"ALRIGHT, EVERYONE!" he roared over their chanting. "THE BUGGY PIRATES ARE BACK AND FLASHIER THAN EVER! BEFORE WE PROPERLY CELEBRATE, WE'VE GOT A FEW THINGS TO TAKE CARE OF! SO EVERYONE GET YOUR NEW OUTFITS AND QUARTERS SORTED OUT, CHOP-CHOP!"
Alvida, who had remained silent the whole time (albeit pumping her fist with the others), remained where she was as the crew went to work. Buggy, meanwhile, descended down to the deck again and came to a stop next to her, ostensibly to watch the crew get settled in. Instead, Alvida heard a whispered, "This way", and noted a subtle hand signal towards his cabin.
At this point ready to leave the raucous crowd on the deck behind, and also eager to get this meeting over with and settle her nerves, Alvida followed Buggy to the captain's cabin in the stern. She noted his visible relief and pleasure at seeing the room undisturbed: though she'd have been well within her rights to claim it for herself while the clown had been incarcerated, something had stopped her. Some sense that somehow, Buggy would return, and that in that case, it would be incredibly rude to mess up his room.
Buggy opened one of the sea chests, producing another fine reward for her discretion: a very,
very high-quality bottle of rum.
That had tempted her, certainly. Two glasses followed.
"Go ahead and sit down," Buggy stated, pouring a finger of rum into two glasses.
Alvida sat, curious. She accepted the rum and took a dainty sip that slipped down her throat like honey. Oh, that was
good stuff.
"So," Buggy stated. "First things first. I'm okay with keeping up our previous dynamic if that's what you want."
"We can try. Though I expect we'll have to settle into something new regardless. I…
saw what you did to the Marines. Can't exactly unsee it," Alvida replied.
He nodded, unbothered.
"Second. What I said to the minions on deck goes for you, too: you want to stick around, you'd better be ready to handle the kind of battles the Pirate King's crew is expected to get into. Because like it or not? We're New World-bound."
Left unsaid was precisely
how hellish such battles would be. After all, one such battle had been broadcast to the world mere days before. Alvida took another sip of rum to hide her disquiet. She was no stranger to violence, and with the defenses of her Smooth-Smooth Fruit she fancied herself a formidable combatant—for Paradise. She had no illusions about how long she'd have lasted at Marineford.
"Well," she said, putting on some bravado. "I do like a challenge."
Buggy scrutinized her for a long, hard moment. Just long enough to make Alvida start to sweat. And then, mercifully, he nodded again. "Good. That leaves one last item," he said as he stood and turned to look out the stern windows.
"The former prisoners," Alvida ventured, taking another sip. "They're all from Impel Down, and all a
lot stronger than the thugs we've been dragging around up until now. You're certain they won't be a problem?"
Buggy scoffed. "I make a point of surrounding myself with minions of a certain quality."
"Brave and loyal?"
"Greedy and gullible. Stupid's a good bonus. Now… I'll defer to you to get them all situated."
Alvida turned that duty over in her head. Well, it would be a good head start on improving herself in combat, and it made her the de facto second in command. Not too bad a demotion after her stint as captain. She exhaled briefly. "Fine. Not the first time I've had to wrangle a large pack of meatheads. When do we set sail again, and what's our heading?"
"As soon as possible," Buggy answered. "And…"
Fear stirred once more in Alvida's breast as he turned back to her, his face serious as a heart attack.
"See to it that the Big Top's extra-large reins and chains are still in good condition. The moment that we're ready to set sail, we're grabbing some Sea Kings and paying a visit to Amazon Lily."
Alvida blinked several times. Opened her mouth, a litany of objections ready to spill forth. Closed it. Finally…
"Why there? Even if the Empress would see you, isn't it a Revolutionary island now?"
"Boa Hancock left with Straw Hat after the war. If he's anywhere in the world right now, it's there," Buggy answered, waving his hand dismissively.
At the mention of Straw Hat, the fear bloomed into outright
terror. "You
cannot be thinking of trying to get revenge after all this!" she shouted, shooting to her feet. "We've tried before, and look where it's gotten us! To try again against even greater opposition—"
"It was never about 'revenge' to begin with, Alvida," Buggy interrupted, expression still as serious as ever. "So no. It's about what this has been about from the very beginning: hedging our bets on our survival."
-o-
"And what news is there of the Straw Hat Pirates? Has there been
any luck in tracking them down?" Rear Admiral Brannew asked his assembled Marines.
Despite the fact that the forces committed to Marineford
still remained combat-ineffective, the world waited for no one, and the Straw Hat Task Force had been reassembled almost immediately despite almost the entire team being walking wounded. They couldn't go after the Straw Hats anytime soon, but Brannew and his officers all knew that any successful operation was preceded by weeks or months of preparation and intelligence-gathering.
"We know for sure where some of them are," one Marine officer said. "Boss Dugong and his four apprentices never left Sabaody: they seem to have made the archipelago their training grounds. Their strength is trouble already, but they can also disappear just by diving into the water. If there's any good news there, it's that they're attacking pirates at least as much as they're attacking Marines."
"And we have confirmed that Nefertari Vivi and Carue have returned to Alabasta," another piped up. "They have resumed their roles within the royal family, and the princess's Gust-Gust abilities have removed what little chance we had of blockading the country, combined with the Giant Squadron and Accino Family."
"Hmm… she may not return to the Straw Hats at all. She only accompanied them for lack of opportunity before." Brannew paused, and when nobody else spoke, he asked, "Are those the only ones?"
"We had a confirmed sighting of Nico Robin in Tequila Wolf shortly before the war began. But she disappeared not long after the war when the Revolutionaries invaded; she has most likely joined Dragon's forces," a new officer said. A ripple of disquiet ran through the room. That had been a nightmare scenario for many of them, and there had been sighs of relief when she'd joined up with Straw Hat. That relief hadn't lasted long. "There have been unconfirmed sightings of Conis around Eden's Cinders, but with all the war and carnage in that place, it's hard to be sure."
More silence. Yet another officer sighed before putting in his two beris:
"And a rumor is going around that Tony Tony Chopper is somewhere in the South Blue; it's barely worth mentioning, but we haven't heard anything contradictory."
Brannew made a final note before sighing as well.
"So, the remaining Straw Hats have disappeared completely. If they're training for the New World, then it's likely that they'll be in places that correspond to their skill sets. Gather up the psychological profiles we've established for the Straw Hat Pirates and identify their strongest skills, then start cross-referencing them against any notable places for those skills in the Four Blues and Paradise."
He straightened up. "There are no words to describe how much trouble will result if they are permitted to enter the New World after putting forth the effort to grow strong enough to challenge it. We
must find and destroy them before they are ready to reunite."
"And if we fail?"
The question received no response, simply because
nobody in the room would know the answer until the new Fleet Admiral was decided…
-o-
Song wafted out the Hard Shell Tower, Manboshi and Ryuboshi doing their best to ease their sister back into her confinement in the tower. Sadly, she was still nearly inconsolable at the idea that her one reprieve from that confinement had been discontinued, possibly never to return. The two princes detested the necessity, but a necessity it was: a small armory's worth of 'gifts' had been sent in the minutes since Cross's farewell.
Father and Brother had mobilized the troops in force in an attempt to run down Vander Decken, hoping the sheer exertion and volume of such a barrage would leave him vulnerable, leave a visible enough trail that they could use to hunt him down. But in her heart, Shirahoshi knew it wouldn't work. After all, it hadn't all the times they'd tried before, so why would now be any different?
Despite her grief, Shirahoshi didn't blame anyone involved. She
knew why the Straw Hats had to go radio silent: they had their own voyage to complete. And she
knew why she had to stay in the tower: Vander Decken had an almost preternatural ability to tell when she was vulnerable, and even leaving her tower's door open for a few minutes posed an all-too-real risk…
But just because she knew
why things were happening and that it wasn't the fault of anyone she liked didn't make the situation any easier to bear.
She'd had a
chance. A chance at happiness, a chance at peace, a chance to say
goodbye… And now, once more because of factors outside of her control, that chance was at an end before it could begin.
Almost as soon as her brothers left her alone again, Shirahoshi threw herself onto her pillows, and she cried and cried.
Puru puru puru puru! Puru puru puru puru!
The familiar sound broke through her miserable haze, and Shirahoshi slowly sat up, wiping her face. She blinked a few times at the snail, curiosity replacing grief as she wondered why it was ringing. It looked up at her with the same curiosity, and she slowly nodded.
"
KA-LICK! Ah, hello? Do I have the right number?"
Shirahoshi's hands came to her mouth. "Wha—N-Nami? 'Weather Witch' Nami, of the Straw Hats?"
"
Yep, that's me! And is this Shirahoshi?"
"Uh, y-yes, but—?"
"
We heard about your situation from Cross, all of us did," Nami warmly answered. "
I can imagine what you're going through. Locked up for eight years, not able to mourn your mother… believe me, I get it. Hell, I even think I had it better than you, and from me that's saying something. When we get there in a couple of years, I promise you, we'll get you out of that tower for good."
The tears were flowing again now, and she smiled a watery smile. "Th-Th-Th-thank yooouuu," she sobbed.
"
You're welcome. But, in the meantime…we can't do much while we're so far away, but like Cross said, you can call us anytime. I've got everyone's numbers; we won't always be able to pick up, got training to do and all that, but we'll make as much time for you as we can. Soooo… what do you say? Want a couple dozen pen pals over the next two years?"
Shirahoshi's tears continued to flow, but now, she was smiling from ear to ear.
-5 Days After the War-
Dracule Mihawk was in a decidedly sour mood on his arrival to Kuraigana Island. While Marineford had left him buoyed, the long and extremely tiresome 'visit' with that red-haired
nuisance had drained every drop of what little goodwill he had left for the decade. As he walked up to the door of his castle, he wanted nothing more than to relax on his comfiest chair with a bottle of wine and polish Yoru for a few hours. Or days.
Unfortunately for his mood, the sight that greeted him when he opened the door was… well, not the
last thing he wanted to see, but it was definitely in the bottom five: Roronoa Zoro, slouched in one of
his chairs, surrounded by a pile of his wine bottles (he knew his wine cellar top to bottom, and he recognized his
entire stock of thirty year Déesse), chugging down one last bottle like it was
water.
And he didn't even have the decency to look buzzed.
"Welcome back," Zoro stated as he shook the last drop into his mouth, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. "Just so you know, I drank all your wine, moved everything two inches to the left, and let the humandrills in to finish the rest. And
they've been watching my crew, sooo…"
There was precisely one second of silence before Mihawk drew Yoru from his back. But his expression did not
remotely resemble one ready for combat.
It was much more reminiscent of a certain lightning-empowered lunatic.
"Mars Ultor above, Roronoa Zoro, have you lost all sense of self-preservation?!"
"You say that like I ever had one."
The World's Greatest Swordsman could only shake his head in sheer disbelief. "Truthfully, I'm shocked that you didn't go the extra mile and soil my rugs."
Roronoa shrugged, and Hawk-Eye felt something
crack in the back of his mind.
"Like I said, humandrills."
Mihawk's eyes twitched. And for the first time of what would be many over the next two years, he thought back to the question Cross had asked him on the battlefield.
"…Your first lesson:
DIE."
It was very, very hard to find an answer.
-o-
When their newest addition's mood had, during that dreadful battle, turned literally stormy, the scientists of Weatheria initially saw it as an opportunity. An opportunity to witness a hitherto unseen meteorological phenomenon! Oh, the papers! The accolades! The petty oneupsmanship in the bars!
The novelty wore off quickly. At this point, they were all just relieved that the most recent newspaper delivery had calmed that mood to something normal and non-meteorological. They still gave her a wide berth: a little due to fear of triggering a relapse, but mostly because her latest experiments involved lightning in truly unsafe voltages.
"Ah… pardon me for saying so, young lady… and I fully acknowledge that I'm no expert in these matters-" Haredas gulped audibly, tugging at his collar as sparks flew between Nami and Billy. "But, ah… while I will always applaud your innovations, I am a tad confused about the direction you seem to be taking them. It's just… you don't seem the type to go for overwhelming firepower in combat?"
"Oh, I'm not," Nami responded calmly, if absently. Most of her attention span was being spent on carefully maneuvering a beam of lightning linking her staff's tip and Billy's body across a shirt hanging on a clothesline between them so as to pass the plasma through every inch of the fabric. "I've always relied on wits and speed more than brute strength, and that's not about to change. But… how should I put this?"
She hummed thoughtfully, then nodded to Billy, who killed the current. Nami set down her staff, and reached for the hem of her shirt. Haredas barely had time to turn around, blushing, before she removed it.
"I could say this is about wanting to get stronger. To not
have to rely on others, even though it's really nice to be able to," Nami explained to the sound of rustling cloth. "But that's not it. Or, not
all of it. See, here's the thing: my dream, in case you didn't know, is to chart a map of the entire world. But now that I've seen a bit
more of the world, I know that's just the end of the road. I'm sure lots of other navigators have tried the same and failed, so I'm going to have to do the same, but better. Oh, by the way, you can look."
Haredas slowly turned around and blinked at the form-fitting top covering everything between her neck and skirt. Even her fingers were covered by the sewn-in gloves.
As she kept talking, she moved over to the workbench nearby, where a tangled mess of wires lay around a golden frame. Slowly, she worked her covered right arm through the wires, fitting it around her forearm and over her hand, before withdrawing a seashell from the drawer and securing it to her elbow.
"Better maps are drawn by better navigators. So if I'm going to draw the best map in the world, then I'm going to have to
be the best navigator. So all of this? This isn't me wanting to be stronger. That's just a bonus. This… is just the next logical step. I'm doing this because I can. Because this is something I
can do. Because this…"
Nami raised her hands before herself and snapped her right's fingers, and a
spark leapt from one hand to the other with a
crack.
"This is
me."
-o-
Heracles peered around the tree he was hiding behind, finding his new friend standing over a massive pot, a pointed black hat on his head and a grin a few molars too wide on his face.
Where the devil did he get that hat'n? he wondered.
"
Double, double toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble," Usopp chanted gleefully, moving his hands like a conductor as he and the handful of bugs that had already fallen under his spell—and Heracles had
thought that was figurative, but given how many were glaze-eyed and drooling, he couldn't be sure anymore—fed ingredients into the spice-filled concoction.
"
Giant rhino beetle's horn,
In the brew now, freshly shorn.
Reaper's Pepper, seeds and all,
Scorpion's sting and monkey's gall.
Nettles brought by hand of toad,
Boiled right quick with yellow-woad.
Sear the poisoned snakeskin 'way, Char and bl—"
"GROARGH!"
An absolutely
massive Komodo Dragon burst through the brush of the clearing. Heracles's hand whipped to his side, going for his Pop—
"YOU THREW OFF MY GROOVE, YOU SCULLION!
GET HIM, MY PRETTIES!"
BZZZZ! "
GRAAAARGH!"
—only to be pre-empted by an enraged shriek from the 'potion master', whereupon a buzzing
cloud slammed into the uber-lizard and knocked it back in a panic of flailing limbs. Heracles stared at the thrashing undergrowth for a moment before
slowly retracting his hand from his side.
"Gah, so annoying…" Usopp sniffed as he re-straightened his hat. "Alright, where was I…?"
Heracles considered for a moment, before cautiously answering, "Er… 'poisoned snake—'"
"Oh, I'll just take it from the top. Twice as potent this way!" Usopp cackled. "
Round about the cauldron go—"
Heracles groaned, pressing his hands to his helmet. Just two years and he'd be left alone with the
normal monsters.
Why had he missed having other humans around again?!
-o-
"
Double double, skirt steak plate, Gorgeous slices, that's just great~
"
Cooked quite rare, with searing heat, Crisp the crust and red the meat…"
Such was the red-clad Newkama's chant as she practically juggled ingredients with all the grace and skill of a bartender. Despite the theatrics, she did not stop stirring the red sauce in another pan.
"
Chase the classic sous vide craze, Zhoosh with bittered rhubarb glaze.
"
Garlic butter pat, delish, Sea salt flakes, and there's the dish~!"
Meanwhile, Sanji, Ivankov, Inazuma,
and Bentham all watched with mildly disturbed expressions.
"…I'm sorry, I haven't met too many of the island's masters yet, but is it typical for them to be this—?"
"Weird?" Inazuma asked bluntly. "No, Ann is a special case."
"I admit, she's one of the more eccentric ones, but she makes it work," Ivankov shrugged. "And she makes a damned good steak dinner."
"I'll take your word for it," Sanji said, of two minds about the whole thing. "But I don't suppose you have literally anything else—
food-related, anything else
food-related that I could be doing instead?"
"Actually, I was
very interested in dissecting your Death's Door Lunchbox," Ivankov said, leading him out of the kitchen (to everyone's relief). "I've been meaning to bring it up since yesterday, now that we know Cross-boy is…well, as well-off as he
can be."
"But it performed its task perfectly," Inazuma picked up with a frown. "It was an impossible show of willpower to begin with; he was emaciated with no other recovery from the operation other than a nap, and he was
still almost too healthy to eat it safely."
Sanji shuddered at the image, grateful that he could help his captain but horrified both by his gift's necessity
and near-failure.
"You can rest assured, Sanji-boy, it will be my absolute
delight to help you refine it," Ivankov said with utter seriousness. "This would be a worthy recipe to make the 100th."
Despite the circumstances, Sanji grinned with no small amount of pride as he withdrew his recipe book. "Well, I've gotten a few tips already, but what have you got to suggest?"
FWOOOM!
Fire blasted out of the windows of the kitchen they had just left.
"Dinnertime, ladies and gentlemen~" Ann sang.
"…though I suppose I'm morbidly curious about this recipe first," Sanji murmured.
"I'm just morbidly terrified!" Bentham wailed melodramatically.
-o-
Standing in just outside the Torino library's entrance, Chopper smiled as a News Coo touched down.
"Nice hat," Chopper complimented. "Your new boss lets you wear what you want?"
[Mmm, it's still kind of a uniform,] the gull shrugged, tipping the blue and orange newsboy cap atop her head. [But we get to choose whatever style we want now. Who knows, maybe in a few months we'll get around to diversifying a bit more. At least now we won't get our tailfeathers plucked for asking.]
"Couldn't have gotten worse than it was, huh?" Chopper sighed. "Well, I'm glad for you."
[Thanks. But one thing that hasn't changed is the busyness, so can we get to business?]
"Oh, right, sorry." Chopper held out a thick yellow envelope along with a few beri notes. "This needs to go to Sakura Kingdom, as soon as possible."
[You got it,] the gull said, slipping the package into her satchel and turning away.
"Oh, wait! Sorry, take this too!"
The coo looked back in mild annoyance, but she took the postcard Chopper held out. Then she saw what was written:
Dalton,
I hope you're the first of many to benefit from this treatise. But I'm sorry for probably making you Doctorine's test subject here. Don't bother running, you'll just be tired if she catches you and she'll be mad if she doesn't.
Tony Tony Chopper
The coo slowly raised her head and
stared at the human-reindeer. […]
"I don't think you want to ask."
[You're a Straw Hat, that was a given.]
-o-
The Revolutionaries were very hospitable. They had raised no objection to her desire to remain on the deck and had immediately relocated furniture and refreshments from inside to make her more comfortable. And there was no sense that they were doing it out of fear of her, either; they knew what she had gone through and respected the lingering trauma she still had.
Robin had little not to trust them. It was only old instincts that made her prefer the open air, and she hoped that it would be a short-lived paranoia.
"So, how far to the island?"
"About a week's sail. Hopefully, we should be out of the snow by tomorrow, the day after at the latest. We'd have gotten you there sooner, but our express route is busy in the North at the moment," the nearby Revolutionary answered.
Robin nodded and settled back in to wait, sipping her coffee with a soft smile. All things considered, with Luffy's mission successful and Cross, if not in ideal circumstances, as well off as he could be in whatever training ground he was at, her mood could hardly be better.
"Hey, look alive! They're here, the commanders are here!" another voice called.
"The South and East commanders?" Robin asked, standing up at once. She had been warned of their arrival but hadn't expected it to be so soon. Nor had anyone else, it would seem.
A pair of rappel lines came down upon the ship's edges, swiftly followed by a purple-haired woman dressed all in red and a cat-man who looked like he belonged in a more steampunk-centric setting.
'
I have been spending entirely too much time with Cross if that's
the first word that comes to mind,' she reflected. Standing, she walked over to them.
"Hello, nice to meet you. I believe that we'll be working together for a while. I'm Nico Robin," she introduced herself.
The two of them gave her a once-over, the cat-man with a grin and the woman with a neutral expression. In unison, they held out their hands, Robin taking both and shaking with an application of her Devil Fruit.
"Belo Betty, nice to meet you too."
"The name's Lindbergh, the honor is entirely yours, I promise ya!"
"Hmm, indeed," Robin said with a small smile. "Will the other two commanders be joining us as well?"
"Probably at Baltigo, yeah," Betty shrugged. "Karasu was on assignment with the boss to begin with; your—" Her lip twitched as she visibly swallowed part of what she wanted to say, "—
brother… did
exactly the right thing to get his help."
"Oh?" Robin's expression became one of curiosity. "And how is that? I was certain that the Revolutionary Army would find no cause to intervene."
"Under the
original context of the war, sure 'nuff, we couldn't do spit! Marines executing Pirates, that's the law and that's entirely and totally fair! Eh, no offense." Lindbergh coughed slightly.
"But then," Betty said, actually managing a smile. "The
very first thing that he did was have Sengoku admit that the execution had nothing to do with
Ace being a pirate, only that his father was one, and that furthermore there is no law that can convict someone on their bloodline alone. That tipped the context from lawful to tyrannical, and the moment that Dragon heard it, he took flight to join the war."
Robin silently filed that away as something that she would definitely tell Cross at the earliest opportunity. She could only imagine he could do with
any sort of triumph, given his state of mind when she'd last seen him.
"And you know how that turned out. But anyway, to answer your question, if Karasu's already there, he'll probably have Morley show up, too," Betty finished.
"I see. I hope you won't mind me picking all of your brains for how I can improve myself. Although I'll be surprised if you have any tips on stealth that I've yet to learn."
"Maybe, maybe, but in terms of the other fine and feral arts of revolutionizin'? Sorry to say, you're still a small guppy in a large pond! But!" Lindbergh popped a finger up. "Don't you worry your pretty little head: We'll teach you everything we know and a few things we don't before our time together is up! We'll make you into a bonafide, Lindbergh-approved badass before you know it, toots!"
"I'll keep that in mind, Mister Lindbergh. And for the record?"
"Ye—?" The engineer's nascent question was interrupted by an arm sprouting atop his head, grabbing his goggles and yanking them out—
SNAP!
"
YEOWCH!"
—aaaand letting them snap right back into his eyes causing him to double over and paw at his face, a stream of curses spilling out of his mouth.
"That's 'Nico Robin', 'Miss Robin', or 'ma'am' to you," Robin chuckled lightly, her favorite Smile™️ affixed to her face.
Betty took ten seconds to take in Lindbergh stumbling away and swearing bloody vengeance before grinning from ear to ear and throwing her arm across her newest comrade's shoulders. "Congrats, you're my new favorite person."
"How nice," Robin said with a small smile. "And my relationship with Cross makes no difference?"
"I am
actively ignoring that," Betty answered with a cheerful twitch.
"Razza frazzin…" Lindbergh grumbled as he stumbled away, navigating into the ship's comms room easily despite still fumbling with his goggles. Once he finally got his vision clear and his eyepieces back into place, he couldn't help but grin.
"…Well, at least we've got someone else with a sense of humor here," he chuckled before reaching for the nearest (non-black and non-white) snail. The answer came quickly.
"
Wait, how did you get this number? Who are you?! WHO DO YOU WORK FOR, WHAT DO YOU WANT?!"
The Mink stared cock-eyed at the snail for a few moments. Then he burst out laughing.
"ZIZIZIZIZIZI! Good one, Koala. Though maaaybe you've been hangin' around Cross a tad too much recently? Just sayin' is all."
"
Oooh you don't know the half of it, Lindbergh. But anyway, what's the report?"
"According to the X.O., Tequila Wolf's sacking encountered no resistance… that wasn't taken out by Nico Robin well before the main force arrived," he chortled. "Sooo yeah, full success on that mission. No new Devil Fruits acquired yet, but we've got a report on the new shipyard that the Navy's building here. Though, heh, something tells me construction's going to stall even more now that their stores of pitch have
mysteriously vitrified. Aaaand lastly, we scrounged a few new recruits from the Grey Terminal, which is smelling as
delightfully pungent as ever!"
The engineer's good cheer abruptly collapsed into an out-and-out scowl. "…And you may want to tell Sabo that his so-called family, which I do
not so-call, are making a grab for the throne with that
thing they're calling their 'son' making moves on the princess. Like it or not, unless we meddle like he's told us
not to, we'll probably be seeing him at the Reverie. So, yeah, two years to brace for
that screaming nightmare."
"
Isn't there already a king and an heir?"
Lindbergh's response was grim silence and a flat stare through his goggles.
"…
Right. Forgot that when you think of rock bottom with these people, you need to bring a pickaxe. Well, we'll burn that bridge when we come to it. And your ETA is on track?"
"Should be, yeah. Oh, but while I've got you…" Lindbergh trailed off, and his voice was gentle as he spoke again. "You're doing all right, right? I mean, an assignment that brought you that close to Mariejois in the middle of a war… plus what you had to take care of first. You sure you don't regret goin' on that mission?"
There was a pause as Koala looked away, her gaze elsewhere…
~The Day of the War~
One of the very few top Marines who hadn't been called to Marineford for the war lay in a hospital bed, a day or so away from recovering sufficiently that he'd be more asset than liability in a fight. Such was the diagnosis that the physician beside him had given him when he woke up.
It took a minute for him to realize that the dread he felt in his heart wasn't from the inability to help the Navy when they needed him most. Rather, it was because he recognized the speaker's voice, and not as a doctor or nurse. His eyes snapped open and he forced them to focus. When his vision did clear, he felt his breath catch at who he saw under the medical disguise.
The one standing beside him was the one who had put him in his hospital bed.
"You didn't really think you'd get away, did you? An execution was promised today, and I can't let you ever recover. Maybe a lethal injection isn't the best way to end this…"
Vice Admiral Strawberry tried desperately to muster enough Armament Haki to reinforce his arm where she was holding the syringe at the ready, right above—
Where the last one had gone in, he realized. Which was followed by the last realization of his life as she set the syringe down beside him: it was empty.
"…but what's done is done. Say goodbye…"
And she didn't speak another word. She just sat there, staring him in the eyes as the poison grew coursed through his veins despite his willpower. Something desperate shone in his eyes as he stared at Koala… and the Revolutionary shook her head disapprovingly, reached her hand out, and closed his eyes.
Nobody was there to save him. No mercy was to be found. Koala simply stared at him until he finally, mercifully stopped moving. She gripped his neck and pulled back an eyelid, and it wasn't until ten minutes later, when she was fully satisfied that her task was finished, that she left the corpse of one of the Navy's best men to be discovered.
~Present~
Koala shook her head softly to clear her mind, and gave her commander a sincere smile.
"
I'm doing just fine, Lindbergh. Thanks for asking, but this was one of the most fulfilling assignments that I've had in years. I have no regrets for what I did."
Lindbergh nodded. "Just makin' sure. Can I count on seein' you when we get there?"
"
Hopefully. A week, then, give or take."
"Yep. Take care."
KA-LICK!
-o-
"Mister Franky! As impressive as it is that you've managed to keep from blowing yourself—or our
island for that matter—to high heaven, as well as the fact that you've uncovered our dear Vegapunk's long sought-after inner sanctum, I'm afraid that the grace period we've afforded you has expired. If you cannot provide what you promised, we will have no choice but to alert the Navy of your presence and place you under citizen's arrest."
Franky looked away from the machine he was working on to give the gathered council a flat look.
"OK, first of all, do you really think you can take me?"
"We think that we have a good enough grasp on your character to be confident that you wouldn't hurt a group of defenseless elders simply trying to do their due diligence."
"...Yeah, alright, that's fair. Would be SUPER uncool of me to crack your skulls like that, Granny Kokoro raised me better than that."
"Apparently not well enough to wear
pants an appropriate amount of the time…" Another of the elders grumbled.
"Oh, she
tried. Didn't take," Franky laughed. "Aaaanyway… second question! You folks listen to the SBS that often?"
"As frequently as we can manage: dubiously legal content aside, it
is being broadcast from one of our national pride's masterpieces."
"Well, then, let me play you a little number that I don't think Soundbite has shared with the world yet."
His grin almost split his face as he gripped the grandiose lever before him with both hands.
"It's called 'Here Comes the Sun.'"
He slammed the switch upward with both hands, and- a klaxon began blaring.
"
WARNING, WARNING. ISLAND WILL SELF DESTRUCT IN T-MINUS 10… 9…"
"WHOOPS!" Franky yelped, slamming the switch back down.
"
SELF-DESTRUCT ABORTED. PLEASE BE MORE CAUTIOUS IN THE FUTURE, DOCTOR VEGAPUNK."
"Eesh," Franky huffed, shaking his while the assembled governors worked their heart rates down from 'impending heart attack.' "You know, your 'national pride' seemed to have a bit of a habit, ya know? This is the third damn one I've found in this place!"
"So noted…" the lead governor grumbled acridly as he mentally upped the dosage of heart medications he'd have to take tonight. "But in the meantime, I assume that
wasn't what you intended to show us?"
"Eh? Oh, right, right. It waaaas… ah, this one!" Franky reached out and grabbed a
much less grandiose and normal-sized lever, located just to the side of the self-destruct switch. "So, uh, like I was saying, 'Here Comes the Sun!'
And hopefully not a nuclear fireball…"
The switch slammed into place, a spark jolted through the lab's circuitry, and all at once, a
hum filled the room.
An appropriate term, given the hum was localized not to a single source, but emanated from all
around the spectators: the entire mountain, humming and vibrating with newly awakened energy. An energy that surged forth in the form of a noticeable rise in temperature.
The governors gazed upon their surroundings with untempered awe, and their admiration only grew as they took in the readings displayed on the surrounding monitors.
"I… I don't believe it! The climate control system, it's… it's actually—!"
"By thunder he's done it, he's actually done it!"
"The long night… is over?"
"Well, I'll be damned…"
"Hey, do me a favor?" Franky said, already walking away. "Since winter's about to end, toss all of your coats in my room on your way out, I could use the down for a
SUPER! Mattress! And once you're all done celebrating with your families…"
He shot a madcap grin over his shoulder. One that would stick with them all for a
long time to come.
"Send someone back up here to pick up my shopping list. I've got a few ideas in mind… and you can bet your asses that they are, one and all,
SUPER!"
-o-
A long-armed crook and a living skeleton stood on opposite sides of a table. Their focus was on the contract awaiting signatures between them. At first glance it was a boilerplate contract, the kind record agencies churned out by printing press, but a lawyer taking a close look would've noticed…
irregularities.
Irregularities that were the result of much stubborn negotiation.
"Alright, let's go over this one more time," Sancrin muttered. "You're one of the Straw Hat Pirates, and your reason for sticking with me is to grow stronger…by making yourself a music star."
"
How I improve myself is for me to worry about. Your role is to manage everything else," the skeleton coolly answered.
"And the time frame…you're not promising me any more than a year?"
"I have insight into what I must do, which may accelerate my growth. I will stay with you for no less than a year, after which I will stay until I need to try something different for my training, or until the crew reunites," Brook clarified. "And I believe it goes without saying: attempt to sell me out and bankruptcy will be the least of your worries."
Sancrin felt an urge to mop at the sweat that had suddenly bloomed at his hairline, despite the fact that 99% of any desire to try crossing a Straw Hat had died long ago. As for the remaining 1%…
"…And the profits. You're sure about this division?"
"I don't anticipate I'll need much," was the answer. "The 5% I've requested is only for emergencies. You're welcome to the remaining 45%."
Sanction grimaced. "Yeah, that's the part that I'm not clear on. You get 5%, I get 45… who the hell gets the last 50!?"
"Nami," was Brook's matter-of-fact response.
A vein popped on Sancrin's skull, and his eye twitched.
"…Yeah, hell no, there's
no way I'm paying that much to a gold-digging sk—!"
KRAK-A-THOOM!
Both of them jumped at the sound of a thunderclap outside. It sounded rather close.
"…That was a coincidence," Sancrin muttered. It wasn't particularly convincing, especially since he had already snatched up the nearest pen.
"Then why are you signing so fast?" Brook asked knowingly. One of his empty sockets was warped, an imitation of a raised eyebrow.
"
None of your boneheaded business, that's why!"
-o-
Pell dove, soared, bobbed, wove, and spun harder than he'd ever had to in training. A necessary exertion, when the air currents themselves were conspiring against him.
Vivi, down on the stone garden that the palace terrace had become, had her right fist tightly clenched around a vortex of air while her left kept her Lion Cutter spinning. Every attack she flung was an attempt to ground the Falcon Zoan.
Both of them were grinning.
"Maahes's Blade!" Vivi declared, swinging the scythe she'd been spinning towards her longtime friend…and missing by a mile, seeing as she only had so much chain and arm strength, and he was several meters in the air.
But the blade of razor-sharp wind that was flung off the arc of her weapon flew
much farther, and at such a speed and width that Pell was forced to fold in his wings and dive to avoid receiving a nasty gash. As he approached the ground, he threw his wings out, catching as much air as he could, before flapping them just as hard. This both arrested his downward momentum, and directed him towards Vivi. Not especially fast, but fast enough, and with his blade drawn he had hope he could make up for it with the extra reach.
SHHHING!
The howl of metal against metal rang out as Pell's blade glanced off of Vivi's scythe. Planting his claws, the guard pushed off with both his wings and feet, sending him back into the air before his opponent could follow up.
Vivi's lips pressed together, wracking her brains for a way to get at Pell. Something that would disrupt his flight much harder than anything else she'd tried. An idea sprang to mind, and she breathed deeply, filling her lungs to capacity. Then, bringing both of her hands before her, she clenched her fingers together as though gripping an orb, and then spread her arms out, clawing the air apart.
The unnatural movement of air created a vacuum for half a second before it abruptly collapsed, sucking in Pell in toward the center. No novice he, he swiftly turned the new development to his advantage, leaning into the wind swirling
around the collapsed air, accelerating in much the same way a spaceship would slingshot around a planet.
Vivi was in no position to contest this maneuver. The technique had stripped the air from her lungs with all the force of being kicked in the stomach. This time, when the Flying Talon struck, her Lion Cutters flew from nerveless hands, the impact sending her flying several feet away in the sand. If the loss of her weapons didn't indicate defeat, the wisps of air swirling about, attempting and failing to reintegrate with her body, were an even clearer sign.
As the winds died down, Pell sheathed his sword and resumed his human form. Cobra, Chaka, and Igaram, who'd been hiding behind a stone wall, peeked their heads up as he walked over to Vivi.
"That was impressive, Vivi. What do you call that technique?"
"I'll… think of a name…when my lungs reinflate," she wheezed, ramming her fist into her chest. "My powers… did
not like doing that…"
Pell smiled softly, extending a hand to help her to her feet.
"Don't worry, you're not alone. Devil Fruits come with drawbacks beyond our issues with water. Don't even get me started on how often I used to mistake couscous for maggots
." He shuddered. "Not one of my finer memories…"
"What do you mean 'used to,' feather-brain?" Chaka cut in, smirking. "I know I saw your head moving in a pretty familiar way during lunch last week!"
"Says the man who buried and lost his last three medals of valor."
"ONCE! Only once
, you molting—"
"And this is why I never considered taking the Storm," Igaram laughed. "No embarrassing stories for me."
"Says the crossdresser," Chaka, Pell, and Vivi deadpanned.
"ONCE!"
"Something you want to tell Terracotta and me, Captain?"
"NOTHING AT BALL—AT ALL, YOUR MAJESTY!"
The two Royals looked between the red faces of their three best men.
Then, all at once, all five of them burst out laughing. In that moment, Vivi decided, she couldn't possibly be happier.
It took a few minutes, but the laughter eventually petered out. "So…it's all a matter of practice?" Vivi asked. And to their nods, she continued, "Then I guess I should be focusing on how can I become stronger, faster…"
"I'd start by improving your situational awareness."
Vivi froze at that sickeningly, terrifyingly familiar voice. She could see everyone else present in a similar state. Why?! Why was
he here?!
SCHLICK!
The sound of metal piercing flesh - or rather, hooking it - was a welcome distraction, especially since Vivi could see that none of her family had been harmed. Her eyes, and everyone else's, shot up to the parapet looming over them.
There, hovering in a whirlwind, was the master of the Sand-Sand Fruit. To their collective shock, a stranger clad all in white was speared on the end of his poison hook, a dagger tumbling out of nerveless fingers. Almost reflexively, Pell reached out to catch it, and hissed in displeasure when his thumb brushed the blade.
Crocodile, for his part, descended to the ground before them, his hand gripping the assassin by his neck and his eyes locked on his face. The stunned silence lasted long enough for Crocodile to nod in satisfaction and fling the corpse off the balcony.
"That's more like it. That's how things are supposed to go: I stab someone, they die."
There was no relief or gratitude in his audience's eyes. Unperturbed, he withdrew a golden casing from within his coat and covered the poisonous hook on his left arm.
"Crocodile…" Cobra uttered, his tone dark and bordering on a growl. He exhaled forcefully through his nostrils before speaking again in a more moderate tone. "I must express my gratitude to you for subduing that assassin. But that is far from enough for me to permit your presence in this country again."
"And I admire the audacity it takes to think you can control even a single thing I do,
Your Majesty," Crocodile drawled back. "In case you've missed it, there aren't any rookie pirates around to miraculously save your hide again."
In response, the wind howled around the courtyard. Vivi took a thunderous step forward, teeth bared and gales swirling about her arms. "There's one right here
, you monster!"
"And should worse come to worst," Cobra intoned, glaring fearlessly at the crime lord. "Then we will call upon that rookie's father
. I believe you've recently had the honor of his presence."
That comment had the intended effect: for a brief moment, Crocodile's smug demeanor twitched down into anger tinged with fear. But the moment passed and his arrogance returned.
"If you feel that's the appropriate course of action, feel free to do just that. Why, there's not even any need to go so far. Simply say the word, and I'll depart your…
lovely kingdom without a word of complaint. To put it another way…" Crocodile swept his arm across his waist and dropped to his knee, lowering his head in a bow that was
entirely undercut by the sarcastic smile he bore. "I am entirely at your disposal."
For the briefest of moments, Vivi swore the world turned red. For
that man to be standing in this place, again, standing like that and saying those words, again, after all this time, after all he'd done—! It took every ounce of self-control in her body to not bring the storm of the century down on his head.
But she managed it. Only barely, but she did, with a harsh intake of breath to fortify her nerves. For her country, and for her father, she'd allow this monster to speak. For exactly as long as she needed to, and not a second longer.
"Why have you come back to Alabasta?" Vivi grit out, the words dragging like barbed wire. "Are you that desperate to conquer our kingdom!?"
Crocodile blinked, then threw his head back and laughed, the Alabastians stunned into silence at the reaction.
"Kuhahahaha! Conquer it? Oh, please, Princess, you give this wasteland entirely too much credit. If I wanted to conquer a kingdom, there are far easier and far more hospitable options to be had. Only the misinformed come to Alabasta for its waters." Crocodile's smile was all teeth as he spoke. "Let me be entirely transparent: not once have I ever harbored any desires to rule your little sandbox. If you want it, you can keep it."
"Then
why did you plunge us into a civil war?!" Chaka barked indignantly, his teeth slipping into fangs.
"For Pluton
, you cretins," the Warlord scoffed, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "The only worthwhile thing that your country has to offer is the location of the Ancient Weapon Pluton. Or at least…" Crocodile's expression slipped into an aggravated scowl, teeth clenching down on his cigar. "I
thought it did, until I was disabused of
that notion. Fifteen years of ambition, sunk into a worthless heap of sand…"
It took every
inch of royal discipline Vivi and Cobra had between them to keep themselves from reacting to Crocodile's dismissal of their country. Thankfully, from the way he sighed and waved his hand, they'd managed to succeed.
"But, so be it. The past is the past, and now I have
other priorities in mind. Because as it so happens, a
single worthwhile investment is here that will be a key part of my plans going forward."
At her limit for inaction, Vivi stormed over to Crocodile until she was right in front of him, glaring murder at his face.
"
What investment, you
bastard?"
The man looked down at her with the same arrogant smirk. "I'm looking at her," he answered.
SHING!
That was the limit, and Vivi found herself flung backward a few steps as Chaka and Pell, both in their hybrid forms, rushed forward.
"If you think we'll let you hurt so much as a
hair on her head, you're as mad as you are evil!" Pell shrieked, the hilt of his appropriated blade creaking in his talons.
Crocodile impassively regarded the blades crossed directly over his jugular, then loosed a derisive snort. "Cute," he drawled, before slipping clean through them, effortlessly maneuvering his body around the sea prism stone. "You can put the toys away, boys, I'm not here to hurt your
precious little princess."
"You—!"
"If I wanted her powers, I'd have drained her dry before any of you could even think to blink." He raised his crimson-tinted hook, waggling it back and forth. "I think I've established
that well enough, no?"
Vivi stared at the weapon, trying to find a counterargument. Though it killed her to admit it, she couldn't find one. Raising her hand, she signaled her Guardians to step back, which they did, glowering all the way.
"What are you after, Crocodile?" she asked.
"Wealth, fame, power, and all that which these things can bring me," Crocodile answered. "But in order to acquire these things, I'm in need of opportunities. Cracks and openings in the balance of the world, into which I can introduce my influence and grow all the more powerful. And while I
could create these opportunities myself, why
bother when there's already someone gallivanting across the oceans and knocking the status quo on its ass wherever he and his merry band of misfits choose to go?"
King Cobra's eyes widened in indignant rage. "My daughter would
never help advance your insane ambitions!" he roared.
"Cobra, you senile fool, she and her friends advance them just by being themselves," Crocodile scoffed, waving his cigar dismissively. "All I need to do is follow along and pick up whatever broken pieces they leave in their wake. And if there is
one thing I'll admit the Straw Hat Pirates are good at, it's breaking things. As such, rejoice! It is entirely to my benefit that the Straw Hat Pirates not only survive the next two years and reunite, but flourish in the process. Which circles back to why I'm here."
He locked eyes with Vivi, the smirk never leaving his face.
"No matter how many records you have to pore over, the fastest way you'll become a Logia worthy of the New World is to learn from one. Decades of practicing control and versatility, all the ruthlessness needed to survive the most dangerous ocean in the world, all of that stands before you. I think you already get it: the fact that you hate me is just another reason why I'm your best choice for growing stronger. So go ahead. Loathe me.
Despise me. But if you want to get stronger,
truly stronger, for the sake of your
precious kingdom and friends…"
A flash of motion and both Logias
moved. Vivi
only just caught Crocodile's hook with the blade of her Lion Cutter, only to be forced to her knees with the sheer
force he pressed into the weapon. Down, down the Cutter went, until the very tip of his hand caught under her chin, and tipped her face up to stare up into his cruel sneer.
"Then you
will accept my offer. Because you don't have any better choice,
Miss Wednesday."
The sound of sloshing liquid came from the guards nearby, Crocodile rolling his eyes. Otherwise, silence fell on the proceedings - silence
Vivi broke.
"Stand down."
Despite keeping her eyes on Crocodile, she could
feel the incredulous shock rolling off of everyone else present.
"I
hate him... but he's right. I swear I feel my tongue rotting in my mouth, but he's
right."
Crocodile's smug grin grew at the words. "Let's start right away, then. I did anticipate that you might say no, so there's a sandstorm due to hit the city that you'll need to go dispell immediately."
The air
cracked from the sheer tension, whether by Vivi's wind or her Haki.
"I will kill you," Vivi vowed. "One day, I swear, I
will kill you and take back
everything you've stolen from us."
"Now, now, is that any way for a good little princess to speak?"
Between one breath and another, a
slicing dust devil spun into existence around her, and one word struck with all the frigid force of the north wind:
"Absolutely."
And the next moment, the literally screaming gale blasted its way into the sky, aimed at a sandy cyclone that had just crested the horizon.
Still utterly unperturbed, Crocodile reformed from the damage she'd wrought on him and turned back to the king.
"Now, then… do you still have my things?"
"…One word, Crocodile," Cobra swore, his eyes bearing as much hatred as Vivi's. "One word of you harming anyone in this country, one word of consent from Vivi—"
"You'll what, Cobra? See that I go straight to the deepest pits of hell itself? Sorry to inform you, but I've already been… and found it
wanting."
And with the last word his, he marched out.
Cross-Brain AN: We know that this note is out of place, but we can't wait for this one. To anyone who likes the idea of Crocodile training Vivi over the time skip? All credit goes straight to Edward15 on SpaceBattles. Congratulations, Edward: your idea is now canon. [SpaceBattles posts 18,475 & 18,496]
-o-
It was impossible to detect for anyone that wasn't an animal with a sensitive nose, or at least a Zoan. And even for such being, this particular scent trail was buried so far under the omnipresent stench of blood, gunsmoke, and adrenaline that it was impossible to find unless you were actively looking for it.
Su was actively looking for it and had been scampering around the war grounds so long that she was unsure the ash would ever wash out of her paws. She was roughly halfway to exhaustion, at her wits' end from avoiding the seemingly endless armed sides in this conflict, and yet her expression was one of excitement.
The tree was the root of the war; hence, if there was anything that every faction tried to avoid damaging, it was the tree's own roots. So who would stick around them long enough to find a well-hidden foxhole beneath a particularly knotted knoll?
Only someone who already knew what was there to find, Su reflected as, finding the burrow still untouched from the first time she laid eyes upon it, she descended inside.
She wasn't surprised to find a labyrinth waiting for her: as Adam's trunk was colossal above, so was its root system titanic below. Yet the scent trail was plain to follow now. Anyone who made it this far on purpose would make it the rest of the way if they had any good animal sense. Which, now that she thought about it, seemed a little bit
too easy…
Her fur stood up as she came to a fork, the scent directing one way far more strongly than the other. On a hunch, she took the path less traveled - and stopped in front of a window carved in the tunnel, through which she could see a thresher's worth of bone and wood spikes that would have awaited her had she taken the lower path.
[Okay,
not that easy then…] Su muttered nervously. She resumed her travels
much more cautiously, head on a swivel for any further 'surprises'.
She was not disappointed, and it was only after traversing what must have been at least two miles of trap-infested roots that Su managed to wriggle her way out of the last hairpin turn. But once she'd finished getting the dirt out of her tail and could properly behold her destination, the fox froze, overcome with joy, relief, and sheer
awe.
[The Heart of the Eternal Firstborn… this… this is actually it! I found it!]
And that she had.
'
Kitsune ni Mitsukerareru Kakure,' the riddle had said. And having found the answer, Su could now fully appreciate the cleverness of the name. The sensible and logical thing was to assume that it meant 'Village That Can Be Found
By A Fox.' Su shook her head, a wry grin on her face, at the fact that even as a Straw Hat, she had overlooked the nonsense and madness option.
The correct translation was 'Village That Can Be Found
In A Fox.'
Few organisms in the world had skeletal structures that could outsize the titanic bones that Skelter Bite had appropriated from Oars. The vulpine skeleton in front of Su was not one of them. That did not take anything away from the majesty of the preserved canine. It lay suspended and cradled in the roots of the Jewel Tree Adam, the size of the Thousand Sunny, and utterly breathtaking.
But the true centerpiece of the tableau before her was the skeletal remains of
nine tails, curled protectively about the skeleton's form.
[Blessed Tamamo…] Su whispered reverently, instinctively bending her neck and touching her nose to the ground. [Forgive my trespass, o Avatar of Inari, but this humble trickster is
so glad to have finally laid eyes on you.]
Her exultation complete, Su raised her head and lifted her paw to make her way toward the fox's feet. But she didn't get the chance to make that step before her instincts prompted her to freeze, fur standing on end.
[Though, before I complete my pilgrimage…] Su said,
slowly angling her gaze up. [I suppose it is only right I pay proper respect to your
children first…]
On ledges around the entrance, peering down at her, were six other foxes. Except to call these entities
mere foxes was a disservice, if not an insult.
Where she was about the size of a full-grown human's head, all of them were the size of a human. Where her fur was a natural grayish-white, all of them had pristine,
ethereal snow-white fur with vibrant sky-blue highlights, giving them an almost unnatural radiance about their bodies. An unnaturalness further enhanced by the glowing pools of pure white that were their eyes, and the trails of light that seemed to flow from them.
And most important of all, where Su had a single tail, none of them had fewer than three.
"
How unexpected," a low voice came, one in a tongue that a human could understand - and also flanged
just outside the realm of natural. The nearest fox gracefully hopped down from his perch and approached her. She remained still as he looked over her, padding around her form. "
A guest… truly an auspicious occasion."
"
It has been some time since the last pilgrimage…and for the one to manage it to be as a kit. She is a bold one, if nothing else," another onlooker opined, this one female.
Su slowly breathed in and out, dismissing her frustration at the designation. It was their ages, not hers…
"
Well, if she has come to pay reverence to our dear mother, we must show the proper hospitality," a third declared, her tone mirthful. "
Let us hear what the little one so desires that it drew her down from the heavens themselves, hm?"
Su couldn't hide a gulp at her species being sussed out
that fast, but she swiftly mastered herself again. She lowered her snout once more, torso dropping into the closest thing to a bow she could manage.
[Children of Inari, you humble me with your attention. I am sorry to trespass on your holy grounds, but know that I do not do so lightly: my voyage thus far has been harrowing, life-threatening, and it is at most only halfway done. If I am to complete my voyage and support my friends in their struggles, then I am in dire need of strength. In need of the means to
break reality, and twist fate itself to my will.]
Her courage bolstered by giving her pitch, Su dared raise her head and meet the ethereal foxes' gazes head-on.
[Children of Inari, I have come in search of the Blessing of Inari, and I will not leave until it is
mine.]
"…
well now. This one is bold indeed."
The other five foxes now dismounted and surrounded her, while the first turned towards the skeleton, inclining his head in a clear gesture to follow.
"
She's come this far. It seems only right she lays eyes upon her goal," he declared.
"
As for whether she is worthy of it… we shall see," another intoned.
Su was all but forced forward as they escorted her into the village proper. Her eyes spotted other foxes around as she went, confirming that these guardians were not the only Children. Butterflies fluttered in Su's stomach as they went. Not only was she feeling the anticipation from being so close to her goal, but the very area around her seemed to be invigorating.
"
Hmmm, I see that she can feel it," said one of the guards, his voice quiet but reverent. "
The fullness of Mother's power may have reincarnated for the next bearer, but the remnants have never left. In her very bones, in the very blood she passed down to us, even after generations, her blessings remain."
"
Truly, mere 'devils' are ephemeral…" another sighed reverentially. "
But that which is Divine
is Eternal."
They came to a halt before a curtain of vines, strung before the entrance to the skeleton's ribcage. Three of the guards passed through ahead of the others. Su, fur standing on end again, waited a few seconds before the others ushered her forward, and she passed through the vines to behold a field of rice.
Giant stalks of the stuff reach for the shreds of sunlight that seeped in through the tree above. Enough of them that the Children, with a little judicious scavenging of meat, would never need to enter the warzone above.
In the very center, plain to see and surrounded by the three guards, was a golden birdcage. And within it?
A single rice ball. And despite being plain white, the very grains themselves seemed to swirl in such a way as to cause migraines if gazed upon for too long.
"
Even dormant, you see the power's potency. The true fruit lies among the countless white grains, yet it permeates every morsel around it."
[Ah… so, is it the ume or the actual rice?]
"
Yes," instantly answered everyone in earshot, Su included. There was a shared moment of amusement before the solemnity returned, and the six of them surrounded her once more.
"
Naturally, we cannot simply give her Mother's power. Not even any of our own have dared to take up her complete legacy."
"
She has a long road ahead of her if she seeks to prove herself worthy of such an honor."
All of them sat down around her, front legs upright and their tails waving mystically behind them.
"
It may take years, and it may take every ounce of dedication she has to succeed. But only one question matters: does she have the will
to face such a challenge?"
Seconds stretched like eons, Su turning their words over in her head. There it was, the goal she'd been searching for, the force multiplier she'd desired for
so long. That which could elevate her existence to a higher level, that which could make her a proper
equal on her crew, even if only to contend with her own insecurities.
With all her dreams sitting before her, Su found that there was only one
real answer she could give.
[…no.]
They stirred in response to her reply.
"
Truly?" one of the foxes sniffed, raising her muzzle high. "
To come so far and see the prize before her eyes, yet to shrink before what is necessary? Disappointing… but unsurprising."
[Oh, you misunderstand me.]
The very air seemed to thicken at Su's change in behavior: her voice had lost its reverence, and her posture reflected defiance.
[I'm not saying I'm not willing to do what it takes to claim the Blessing of Inari. I'm just saying that I'm not willing to do the trials that you set for me. I'm on too tight of a schedule, too much to improve and too little time. And if that was my only issue, I'd submit in a heartbeat; I'm sure your trials would make me stronger. But there's a bigger problem. And you all know exactly what it is.]
Silence fell again. Silence that stretched on long enough that Su began to wonder if she'd made a fatal error. But, finally, the six's solemn visages melted into smirks.
"
I was mistaken, it seems: she is as cunning as she is bold."
"
A kit truly worthy of making it to Mother."
"
But not one worthy to take her power."
['Worthy' nothing: you're the trickiest of tricksters. Nobody's passed the trials since Tamamo died because they
can't. You'd keep them coming until I died or gave up. Playing by your rules means that I lose. So allow me to speak like the pirate that I am:
I'm taking your treasure, whether you like it or not!]
Su had expected condescension, howling laughter. And she couldn't deny that she felt unnerved when the atmosphere just shifted instead. It had been tense moments before. Now it weighed heavy with amusement.
Lethal amusement.
"
Awwww, how cute! The new toy doesn't want to play with us!"
"
We'll just have to break her sooner, then."
"
Oh, let me break her jaw! The sounds they make are always so funny!"
[Brutal bastards, aren't you…]
"
We have lived with conflict since time immemorial. Perhaps our tastes have warped a tad, but don't worry. You'll learn to appreciate it."
"
That or go mad. Either one is fine!"
[You don't know my kin, do you? I'm one of the Straw Hat Pirates. When we don't like our options, we make our own.]
The foxes didn't react as Su flicked her tail, revealing a small orange gun that she caught in her teeth. But as she sprung into the air, they were still taken aback when she fired it.
Because the fiery projectile that it shot went straight through one of the field's skylights rather than at any of them. She landed and let the gun fall from her mouth.
"
Is she attempting to stall us by showing all the good sense granted to a drunkard?"
"
Bewilderment is powerful. But fleeting."
Su ignored the jabs in favor of turning up her nose at them. [This is your last chance. Give me that rice ball now and you won't get hurt.]
Their response was for one of their number to break ranks and lash a kick at her side, and it was only with the training she'd gotten over the past few months that she was able to leap out of the way of a blow that would have sent her flying.
"
Impressive agility," the guide drawled. "
But the kit is still decades too young to challenge us. And she is all alone."
[Yeah, being alone is real bad,] she said, smirking. [That's why I packed a flare gun.]
As one, the foxes blinked.
"
What's a flare?"
BOOM!
The foxes yelped at the sudden blast of heat and force, leaping away from the source. They landed on their feet, snarling at where the ceiling above them had collapsed, raining debris on their rice field and letting the sun into their sanctuary. And the cause was most unwelcome.
"
Trespasser!" "Defiler!" "Humans are not welcome here!" the guards howled like a chorus of the damned.
"I'm very sorry," the human responded coolly, scooping up Su in one arm. "But you threatened my friend. So I'm afraid I have no choice but to desecrate your holy land and topple your religion. It's really starting to become something of a habit for me."
The six of them leaped at her, claws and fangs aimed to preserve their own peace and order—
And then she jumped. She jumped surprisingly high, tucking her legs against the wall as though to leap off in another direction. They tensed, ready to leap in whatever direction she landed, any second now—
FWUMP!
Then their jaws hit the ground when she suddenly grew wings, pushing off the wall and gliding through the air away from them. The shock took a second to wear off, by which time it was far too late: she was within reach of the golden cage, smacking the guards aside with frustrating ease. Only then did she draw her pistols.
They darted forward, prepared to dodge whatever lethal blows the intruder fired. They were utterly unprepared for her weapons to produce floating masses of murky water that filled the area around them, slowing them down and blinding them. Even extracting themselves from the marsh taxed them, normal force proving feeble. By the time they were free, the two intruders were gone. And so was their treasure.
All six of them came to the same conclusion that they would
never admit: the kit had proven worthy of Tamamo's power. After all, she had outfoxed them.
They would
further deny that the fresh breeze blowing through Tamamo's skull almost sounded like
laughter.
-o-
When it became clear that they weren't being pursued and were still close enough to the roots to avoid the warring factions, Conis leaned against the nearest mass of wood and took the chance to catch her breath.
"Su, su su," Su panted beside her.
"No problem, Su… but let's not waste any more time," she said, straining a bit with the cage before tearing off its metal door and taking out the rice ball. "Open wide."
The fox tilted her head back and opened her mouth, and Conis shoved the entire confection between her jaws. Her mouth closed as her eyes shot wide open, blank white and with the kind of brittle texture that reminded her of that time Vivi had tried making pasta from scratch. Visibly straining, Su gulped, swallowing the Devil Fruit and everything with it.
"GROWF!
ROWF, YIP! YEACK!"
And as soon as her airway was clear, she spat out a series of noises that Conis was forever grateful Soundbite was
not present to translate.
Especially considering her body language, which was big on thrashing and flailing around.
"I am so,
so sorry, Su…" Conis apologized, hands raised placatingly - which
conveniently hid the smile on her face at her dear friend's current state.
"
SUUU…" If the gimlet glare Su was hammering into her was anything to go by, Conis hadn't managed to keep the laughter out of her voice as well as she'd hoped.
So she let it out instead, one hand coming to her mouth in a vain attempt to hide her giggling. Su bristled all over - and scampered to a nearby section of root, wrapping her jaws around it and gnawing with all she had, clearly trying to rid her tongue of the awful taste.
Conis snickered a bit more at her friend's predicament before sobering up and staring at Su with deadly seriousness. "All kidding aside, can you tell if it actually worked? Did you get what you were looking for?"
Su abruptly stopped gnawing. Withdrawing from the root, she bowed her head in concentration. After a moment, her head snapped up, her typically hidden eyes glowing a baleful,
unnatural shade of blue.
"
Suu…SUUUUU!"
The fox's head snapped back as she loosed an ethereal-tinged howl, her fur rippling as an unseen wind blew through it.
Conis held her breath as she waited to see what would come of such a miraculous display of sheer power…!
Ten Minutes Later…
Conis heaved a tired sigh,
once more glancing up from her watch to scan her surroundings, her foot tapping an impatient staccato on the ground. Su was
still screaming. Now that she thought about it, Conis was starting to doubt whether or not Su had actually taken a
breath in the past few minutes. And while that
was impressive, it was probably not healthy, especially given their present circumstances.
Honestly, when was this display going to come to a hea—?
"—UUUUuuuu…
SU!"
Then, all at once, the fox's voice subsided, and seeing that all the light had pooled into her tail, Conis' annoyance fled from a wave of anticipation. She watched without blinking as the fox leapt into the air—
POP!
And a burst of smoke came over her, hiding her from view. It cleared quickly, and Conis stared at the new form of her friend. She blinked once. Twice.
Then she fell on her back, howling with laughter.
"I-I'm so s-s-sorry, Su, but—HAHAHAHAHA! The buildup, the confidence, and it was just—HAAAAHAHAHA!"
The little white fox, just as little and just as white as before, swished both of her tails in agitation. Agitation that seemed directed mostly at her own powers, seeing as she'd turned her head to snap and snarl at her second tail.
Conis allowed her laughter to wind down to mere chuckling, then amused sobriety. She stood, clutching herself with a somewhat lost expression.
"Well, learning curve aside, you've got what you need now," she said, speaking as much to herself as Su, who refocused on her human. "It'll be rough training, I'm sure, but nothing that we're not used to already. But what does that leave me?"
She peered at the ground around her, absently kicking a pebble into a nearby chasm with firelight pouring out of it. "I don't know if I'd have better luck trying to put out the fire on the island or the flames of war in all of these factions. Where am I supposed to start?"
Without waiting for an answer, she started walking back toward their bunker, Su on her heels. It was an open question how much longer it would last as a sanctuary or if they'd find an answer before it did. But still—
Both of them stopped as a gunshot range out, darting behind cover right, bullet after bullet firing… not in their direction? And they heard the sound of a body falling nearby, too.
Peering out, they saw a fallen, bloodstained figure clutching a smoking gun, a fallen body a ways off that still had its fingers locked in its own guns. But a closer look showed that the fallen soldier was grievously injured as well. And then further observation revealed a chilling fact: that that was no soldier at all, but a
child. A teenager at best, dressed in ragged armor and clothes and clutching a gun in a white-knuckled grip, but definitely
not an adult.
Conis's legs were moving before she even realized it, dashing out of cover and skidding to her knees by the injured child, one hand pressing his weapon into the ground while another locked onto his shoulder and kept him pressed against the wall.
"Hold still," she ordered urgently, her eyes scanning over him as she recalled her White Beret training. "I need to see how badly you're hurt, try not to—!"
"
Su, su!"
Su's franting yipping was the only warning Conis got…
K-chack.
Because the familiar noise of a gun cocking was simultaneous with the equally familiar sensation of cool metal pressed into the back of her neck.
"Don't move."
He had reinforcements waiting. She couldn't see the boy behind her, but the voice told her all she needed to know of his age.
"Hands where I can see them," the other boy ordered. She slowly obliged, holding them up. Immediately, the fallen boy pointed his gun in her face, or tried to. He was still shaking, and she grimaced as she saw the pallor of his face. He was losing too much blood. Her fists clenched, and then after a moment's consideration, Conis lowered her arms and grabbed at the boy's chest, searching the growing bloodstain for his gunshot wound.
"I said—!" the voice behind her snarled, pressing his gun harder into her neck.
"He's already dying, what are you worried about me doing?" she snapped. "If you're going to shoot me, then at least hold off until I can save his life."
The gun at her neck didn't move, but the boy behind her didn't speak again, nor did he pull the trigger.
She found the wound quickly, a hole in his side that was still bleeding profusely. Nodding to herself, she reached into her coat and withdrew the cloths, bandages, and salve that she wouldn't leave her base without.
"This might feel worse before it feels better," she said, dabbing some salve on a cloth. Wiping the wound down, she carefully secured the bandages around his waist once, twice, thrice - and that was when the roll ran out. Conis frowned. It was a quick fix, yes, but it shouldn't have run out that quickly. She needed more…
An image of a gaunt Marine crossed her mind, and she smiled to herself before gripping her trenchcoat's hem and tearing off three long strips. Bound together, it was enough to secure the wound.
"Anywhere else?" she asked, already gripping her coat again. The wounded boy, whose look of suspicion hadn't even faltered as she bound him up, scoffed.
"No. What are you playing at, whose side are you on?"
"Side? Nobody's."
The guns snapped right back up, this time with more hostility.
"Nobody on this island is on nobody's side. Answer or you're dead."
Conis swallowed audibly, her brain attempting to find a way to explain the truth to them. But it was with a sinking pit her gut that she realized she
couldn't. Neither of these children seemed inclined, or even
capable, of understanding any explanation Conis gave them that didn't fit their current world-view. So if the truth wouldn't work, what
could she say that would disincline them… from…
An answer came to her in a flash, and before she could think better of it, she blurted the first word that came to mind.
"Yours."
The boys blinked, obviously surprised, and Conis doubled down on the opening.
"I'm not an enemy. I'm on your side," she insisted, slowly allowing a kind smile to spread across her features.
The two boys looked between her and each other for a few seconds. When they looked back at her, they were still stern and distrusting, but the doubt and confusion in their glares gave the angel hope.
"No you're not, we've never seen you before," the uninjured child stated.
"Then in that case, I'd like to properly enlist. Show me to your leader."
Her request drew the kids up, open confusion passing between them. The uninjured boy looked between her and the fallen one, and slowly lowered his gun.
"Fine," he said quietly. "We'll give you a chance."
'
And I
will give you
a chance,' Conis swore silently. She carefully but effortlessly hoisted the injured boy on her shoulder, drawing quickly hidden surprise from both of them, and they were on their way.
"My name is Conis. What's yours?" she asked, only to immediately flinch as her mind caught up with her mouth. Because on this island, the only response she could imagine was—
"Private Nils, J9K7," the healthy boy said.
"Corporal Gunnar, V6N4," the injured boy wheezed.
…that.
"A pleasure," she answered immediately, despite her insides
roiling at the latest injustice heaped on the pile. A companionable silence fell between them, which Conis used to workshop over how to get an in on whatever faction these boys represented without having to go full Wiper, while potentially
dealing with yet another Wiper…
"By the way, you gonna eat that?"
Conis glanced at Nils, and seeing that his eyes were turned towards her shoulder, she snapped her hand up to restrain her newly empowered friend.
"SUUUU! SU SU SU, SUSUSU!
SU!"
"It's going to be a
long two years…" Conis sighed.
-o-
Merry dusted off her pitch-coated hands, a smile on her face at the sight before her. What had once been the Fishmen's camp was now a single super-tent, strategically reinforced with spare planks (pay no attention to the
odd stains coating them), sitting in front of a small fire pit. Surrounding the much-shrunken encampment was every single booby-trap her devious mind could come up with: all of them hurt, encumbered, and/or made a hell of a racket. Those fishmen weren't going to be sneaking up on her camp anytime soon!
"Let's see…" she hummed. "Tent's up, fire pit's placed and wood gathered, booby traps are armed, dangerous—" She pulled out a map she had drawn on the back of an old dinner menu. "—And very well-marked. I've got plenty of supplies. I'd say that's everything!"
Merry tucked the map away. And then slowly fell back onto the ground with a quiet, dusty 'Thump!' A pained, tired groan wormed out of her mouth.
"That took
foreeeeeever…" she whined. "And my hands hurt… 'M probably gonna get blisters…"
A minute passed in the Locker, the only sound the creaking groan of the ships slowly settling into the abyss. Then, Merry slapped her hands to her cheeks.
"Okay, whining session over," she told herself. "Time for long-term planning. I've got a week's worth of food and water, so I'm gonna need to keep scavenging. Which means the newest ships closest to the edge. Which means risking run-ins with Sea Kings and those salvager assholes." A prospect she didn't particularly relish, but at least she wouldn't be hurting too bad for throwable projectiles anytime soon.
"Main priority: get stronger." She grimaced. "Problem is, I have no idea
how. Maybe I could ask some of the older ships…?"
After a few minutes of thought turned out no better ideas, Merry tabled the subject and moved on to her next item.
"Note to self: start drawing up ideas for
peeling that damn robobear like a tin can." A pause. "And save it for when I'm feeling down, because wow, I feel better already!"
That left one last item, and it was one that killed Merry's mood in a hurry. Ignoring her aching muscles, the girl-ship rolled over onto her side, unconsciously curling up in a fetal position as she tried to pointedly ignore the howling vortex at the center of the graveyard.
"How the hell am I gonna get
out of here…?"
The despair of her situation weighed on her for a while; she was in no danger of dying as long as she stayed in the graveyard, but she would inevitably need a way out, and she couldn't use the way she came in. It may have been hours before she finally mustered the will to raise her head and look back at the wrecks.
"Oi, geezers. Don't suppose any of
you lot got any clues on how the hell to get out of here? You know, that
don't involve tipping over that final edge into the great ever after?"
For a few seconds, all Merry heard was the everpresent creaking of timbers and the howl of the vortex. Heaving a sigh, the ship-girl turned over in an effort to get some sleep—
"
The Threshold."
Before her eyes abruptly shot wide open.
"
Yes, the Threshold."
"
You must sail up the Threshold."
"
The Threshold is the only way."
Merry scrambled into an upright position, whipping her head about with an ear-to-ear grin.
"Well, bloody hell, that sounds like a winner! Where's this Threshold thingy, then?!"
The crack of splintering wood rang out, and Merry beheld a timber collapsing so that its end was pointing… directly into the center of the Locker.
Directly at the central vortex.
Merry stared at the 'exit' she'd been given for nearly a full minute before choosing to respond. "Ah. I see. That goes all the way to the top, doesn't it?"
"
Of course."
"
Obviously."
Merry continued staring for another minute before flopping onto her back with a defeated groan. "Fucking
great. Eeeeergh… don't suppose any of you lot feel up for one more ride from beyond the grave? In, like, two years, but still."
Rather than any immediate, tangible responses, the only answer Merry received was a wave of sheer confusion.
"
Why do you ask?"
"
Why do you require help?"
"
Why do you not sail upon it yourself?"
That last question caused Merry to jerk up again, an exasperated glare on her face. "Have you spontaneously gone senile? That's what I need the ship for! How am I supposed to sail if I don't have a ship!"
"
You are a ship."
The sheer bluntness threw Merry for a loop, but she swiftly rallied and crossed her arms with a huff. "That's… kinda right… but still! At the moment, I'm still human, and even if I
could go back to how I was, which I can't without killing myself, that still leaves two
very big problems: first, I don't have any mates to crew me, so I'd be dead in the water, and second, and perhaps much more pertinent!" she flung her arms out, displaying herself for all to see. "I'm a
Devil Fruit user, so I'd
literally be dead in the water! In case you've forgotten how all this works,
I can't swim!"
And then, just like that, the Locker went silent.
Not the Threshold's howl, or the few winds it kicked up. But the rest? The creaks of timbers, the groans of rotted ropes, those fell dead silent.
And in that silence, the next statement was like a cannonshot.
"…
We do not ask you to swim."
Merry reeled at the intensity of the message, so loaded with determination. "Ah—?"
"
We would never ask you to swim," another ship declared, heralding a rising chorus of the nautical dead.
"
You cannot swim. This has ever been true."
"
You should not swim. This is fact."
"
To swim is not in your nature."
Merry's head whipped back and forth as the voices of the dead echoed about her, understanding what they said but knowing she was missing what they
meant. Until finally, the choir united in a single voice. The same message delivered with all the force, truth, and earthshaking impact of Luffy's declaration that he would be the Pirate King.
"
You have never swum in your life."
And in that instant, their words
crashed over Merry like the first wave of a high tide, understanding striking her harder than any current. She stared in awe as her mind
reeled with the implications, the possibilities…
The chance that maybe… she could…
she could…
"OK… that… that's a
thing…" Merry breathed, a hand shakily reaching up to cradle her head. But even with her newfound clarity, that still left her with a problem, one that made her gnaw at her lip. "But… but still… I-I still don't have a crew. I managed to sail myself once, but that was completely different, and it almost killed me. And even without that, I still can't go
back to being a ship without splitting in two. It's still… impossible…?" But even as she said it, she could hear the doubt present in her own voice.
"
Then do the impossible."
And Merry, first ship and helmsgirl of the Straw Hat Pirates, could make no argument to that.
It was going to take a lot of introspection and a lot of practice, but those words brought to mind a memory. A single, hazy memory, so far away, but if she followed that line of thought, then maybe, potentially… could she one day—?
Crrrrreeeeak…
She snapped out of her stupor at that sound, looking around in confusion. She knew the sound of a ship's timbers creaking, but she had never heard it that…muffled, before.
"
New company."
"
A new arrival."
"
Incoming."
The words were 'spoken' with all the formality of a hotel bellman who uttered the same phrase a thousand times a day. Merry frowned , scanning the black seas outside the coral trees.
"Oh, if they shoot out and crush my camp, I am going to be
pissed…"
Thankfully for Merry, the ship was ejected from the vortex at an angle away from her humble camp, crashing down onto the seafloor a good ways off from where she was positioned.
But even at that distance, Merry's eyes nearly leapt from her skull.
"SHIVER ME BLOODY TIMBERS, IS THAT WHO I
THINK IT IS?!"
-14 Days After the War-
[Argh, how much longer before we get to leave this Archipelago? It feels like it's been two years already!]
[Dude, it's only been two weeks, calm down. Seriously, you should take a leaf out of
his book.]
A vein pulsed in Mikey's head. He whirled on his fellow dugong, not even looking in the direction Donny was pointing.
[HE'S DEADER THAN BROOK!] he yelled.
And indeed, the youngest Dugong wasn't wrong: in both the state of his body and the total stillness he'd maintained since arriving, Bartholomew 'Tyrant' Kuma did indeed put their undead musician to shame.
[…I'm impressed, that comeback was technically accurate,] Donny drawled.
[The best kind of accurate!] Leo chimed in.
[He has a point, though,] Raphey admitted, shoving Mikey aside, which cut off his budding explosion. [At this point, I almost wish we were dealing with wherever the Hell everyone else is instead. The war was a rollercoaster, but it's over now, and none of the aftershocks are hitting us. If anyone comes back and finds that we've been twiddling our flippers for two years? Never mind the shame and embarrassment, we'd get kicked off the crew!]
Her (relatively) smarter brothers gulped, a deathly pallor falling over them. [More likely into a stewpot, but point well made…] Donny whimpered.
All four of them shuddered.
[Remember how you're feeling now, boys.]
The quartet looked up at Boss, who was staring off into the distance again. But this time, his gaze wasn't turned towards the Red Line.
[Remember how stir-crazy you're feeling with this reprieve, and keep it in mind when the training gets harder than anything I've yet put you through. Then you can decide whether you'd prefer it.]
The four disciples exchanged confused looks. Without a word, the four of them came up beside Boss. And when they saw what he was looking at, they froze.
Because in the dead of night, they saw more lanterns shining in the distance than the whole of Skelter Bite. Just on the horizon was a downright insane quantity of ships, comparable to the Dead End Race that they had been part of less than a month ago.
[Now, a lot of these here folks, these rookies only going along with the new tide. They'll be weak. Pathetic, even, having never held a weapon in their lives. But the thing about a rising tide lifting all boats…] Boss trailed off, expecting them to fill in the blanks.
[Is that we're getting everyone…] Leo summarized grimly. [The weaklings, but also a fresh crop of prodigies and veterans. People who never had any reason or inclination to leave their islands until now. And they're all coming here.]
[And Sebek only knows how many of them are going to try coming after Sunny when they find out that we're the only ones guarding him,] Raphey added quietly. [The clout, the gold, the armory, the
wood…we're standing between them and the potential to be set for life.]
[And look at where we are,] Donny said, though none of them took their eyes from the horizon. [Land on one side, ocean on the other. We're gonna be sandwiched from below and above.]
[So… we've got to keep our defenses perfect. Constantly. In every direction. With no guaranteed backup besides Kuma. For two years,] Mikey concluded quietly.
For another minute, the five of them stared solemnly at the horizon.
Then, in perfect unison, the four disciples drew their weapons, the slightest smirks playing across all of their faces.
[Well. It would be rude to not offer them a proper welcome to the threshold of the New World. Permission to start
culling some of the more questionable ones?] Leo asked.
[Granted. Be back before dawn,] Boss answered.
All four of them shot into the air, Mikey and Leo climbing higher while Donny and Raphey plunged into the water. And the moment their backs were turned, Boss allowed himself a satisfied smirk.
[Couldn't be prouder, boys,] he said softly. He took one last drag of his cigar, and turned his expression downward as he tapped out the ashes. Securing it back in his lips, he took up his hook and started spinning it, eyes laser-focused on something below the surface.
He dove overboard without another word, primed for combat.
Utterly unaffected, Bartholomew Kuma maintained his lifeless vigil.
Thousand Sunny, the ship fated to carry the Pirate King to the final island, all but glowed with hope.
And even, in the face of the daunting challenge that awaited, no small amount of eagerness.
As was only appropriate of a Straw Hat.
Cross-Brain AN: To anyone savvy enough to expect us to pull a prank on April Fool's Day…we hope you appreciate this 20,000-word preview of our final chapter. Which is now an official 29,000-word chapter, both an apology for the year-long wait, and a recognition that we would've had to split it for the sake of Spacebattles and Sufficient Velocity anyway.
Xomniac AN: For the record, I wanted to change the Nine-Tails Fruit's form from rice to soy beans so that it could be the much more appropriate Aburaage, but my co-authors protested.
Patient AN: Also for the record: yes, we know that Catarina Devon has the Dog-Dog Fruit, Model: Nine Tailed Fox. And yes, like everything else that could clash with canon (except perhaps Serpent), we still have a plan for Su's fruit that won't contradict that.
