Spring-heeled dickweasel…
Despite everything that had happened since that day, that insult had refused to leave his brain since he arrived on this island.
Anger and dread could both be blamed. Obviously, he was furious at the return of that nickname. But the dread came, ironically, from when the natives had led him to the pillar of gold.
The fact that Cross had known from the moment he met him that Bellamy would come to this island in the sky to find some remnant of treasure that he could use to get back in Doflamingo's good graces? That was intimidating on its own. But even without considering Nami's usury, it was downright ominous for them to allow him to take what was rightfully theirs.
Yet, with the Straw Hats disbanded, for now, the dread at the inevitability of meeting them as enemies again took a backseat to the treasure in his grasp and the possibilities it held.
The only problem was—
"I can help."
Bellamy started in place, whipping around to see… a kid? Bellamy blinked, but it didn't change what he saw. A little girl with an overstuffed bag on her back and the same little wings as everyone else up here.
"You were wondering how to get the gold down to the Blue Sea, right?"
He froze, a finger raised. Then he scowled at her. "I didn't say that out loud."
"No, but you were thinking it really loud. Which is a shock because, frankly, you don't look that smart."
Bellamy's scowl deepened even further, his forearms coiling viciously. "Alright, you little—!"
"I'm here to make you a deal," she interrupted, stepping back just enough to be out of his normal range before shouting over her shoulder.
"Oh, Nola! Dinnertime!"
The ground began to rumble, and Bellamy took a step back as a gargantuan blue-and-white serpent emerged from the trees, looked at the pillar the girl was pointing towards, and coiled around it. Carefully avoiding the carved jolly roger, the snake snapped the pillar into pieces and unhinged its maw, to Bellamy's horror.
"What's with that face? You seem upset," the girl cooed.
"That damn monster is eating my gold!"
"The Straw Hats' gold, and of course, she is. How else would we move that much metal? Don't worry, it won't weigh Nola down even a bit. She was carrying way more than that for centuries, and she's been letting us clear up her stomach for a while now. She's all set to cart down as much shiny metal as you need, wherever you want. Though, of course…" The tyke's expression slowly morphed into a vicious grin as she started to sway back and forth on her heels. "Getting her to give it back isn't an easy feat. Nola's got quiiiiite the protective streak going, you see."
The girl pressed her hands to her cheeks in a look of mock-sorrowful despair. "Oh, if only there were a precious, wondrous child who's spent the last few months gaining the God-Serpent's trust and who could convince her to surrender her riches on demand, as well as direct her wherever she might be needed. Oh, if only!" The tyke kept up the facade for about ten seconds more before 'gracing' Bellamy with an impish smirk. "Can you read between the lines, or do you want me to be a bit more obvious?"
"What are you getting out of this, besides making me angry?" Bellamy ground out as he fought very hard against the instinct to concuss the brat before him.
"Brass tacks, I want adventure," she said, her expression turning firm. "I want to get down and onto the Blue Seas. I've got a destination in mind, and while I'll eventually get there on my own, I need somewhere to stay. Someone to lead me. Someone to follow for so long as you're headed in the same direction I am, and I'm fairly confident you are. You don't ditch me or betray me; you let me stay with you until I decide I want to leave."
Bellamy leered at her.
"No, I'm not going to be deadweight," she snapped, cutting through his train of thought again. "I'm not a big tough guy like you, but I've got more than that going for me."
She tapped the side of her head. "I wasn't kidding when I said you were thinking too loud. Like right now, you're thinking about taking a swing at my head from the left. Baaad idea, by the way. Nola's nicer now, but a Sea King will always be a Sea King." The girl swung the sack off her shoulder and opened it, revealing a colourful collection of shells. "And I've got more than enough Dials to make up for what I'm lacking physically. I can hold my own in a fight, and I promise you, I won't slow down in trying to get stronger."
Bellamy was still frowning heavily, but there was appraisal in his eyes instead of annoyance now as he weighed what she was saying…
Right up until the girl suddenly seemed to sag in place, her gaze became downcast.
"Please, mister… I just… I don't want to wait. I don't want to be left watching from the sidelines when I could be out in the action. For once in my life, I don't want to watch, I want to do, and I can only do that on the Blue Seas. I just…"
And then the girl looked up, and Bellamy reeled because there was no way her eyes had been that big a second ago!
"I just… want to follow my dream…" the girl whispered softly. "Is that too much to ask…?"
Bellamy sucked in a hiss as that word slammed right into his skull.
"GYAHAHA! 'Dreams'?! What a jo—!"
The spring-man growled, shaking his head to banish his own cackling voice. For a moment, he berated himself for even considering this. It was stupid at best, insane at worst…
And then Bellamy swayed as the ground slightly shifted beneath him, and he remembered exactly where he was standing.
'Then again…' he thought, dragging his hand down his face before giving the girl a final, contemplative look. 'Maybe, a little insanity wouldn't be the worst thing…'
"…fine, you little brat," he huffed. "You've got yourself a deal."
Bellamy's stomach dropped as the girl's head snapped up, all traces of her prior sorrow replaced by a bright, cheery grin. "Glad to hear it, partner! Heh, knew that word would tickle you just right! Come on, let's get going!"
Before Bellamy could allow himself a backslide by throttling a tyke, an ear-splitting shriek rent the air, causing damn near every bird in the jungle to set flight in panic.
"AISA!"
The girl—Aisa, if the way she'd become white as the clouds was anything to go by—stiffened furiously, her bright grin turned rictus. "Now, let's get going, because Laki just realized I've cleared out my stuff and half the camp's weapon Dials, and I think she's literally going to tan my hide if she catches me this time."
"Still need a ship to get off these clouds, brat."
Aisa scoffed and waved her hand dismissively. "Hey, do I look like a liar? I said I'd give you transportation, and I have. Though fair warning, this is not what I'd call 'comfortable.'" And before Bellamy could think to question that concerning tidbit, she brought her fingers to her mouth—
FWEEEET!
—and loosed a shrill whistle worthy of Soundbite.
"SHULALAAAA!"
Bellamy had just enough time to glimpse the snake's yawning maw bearing down on him before he found himself tumbling through what seemed like a very big, very dark cave. Veins popped on his skull.
"YOU DAMN NO-GOOD SHITTY BRAT!" he roared, lunging after the cackling brat, who was running through the writhing dark with infuriating ease.
"You're gonna be saying that a lot from now on, partner! I guarantee it! Oh! Just one thing!"
Amid the writhing darkness and mayhem around her, Aisa whirled around and planted her fists on her hips, baring her teeth in a proud grin.
"That's no-good shitty pirate brat to you, mister!"
-o-
"It's inconceivable, dahling, simply inconceivable. Somehow, you've saddled me with a pack of fools who are half as beautiful as you yet twice as brainless. Where did you even find these pretty little idiots!?"
"You geniuses are always so condescending, Dame Onde," Cavendish simpered. "They're more than capable of the job. You're free to keep reminding everyone that you're the smartest person in the room, but if you're going to join my crew, you need to show some manners."
He daintily sucked down another candied rose petal before continuing.
"As for the boys, they were running a local fashion magazine out of their host club. Orange-something or other."
"…remind me why I'm bothering to help you again?"
"Because you're too good a person by half, and when the World Government found out you were helping ferry the World Nobles' latest 'Most Wanted' to the Revolutionaries, they put a price on your head, and I was the only person left with the graciousness to help you."
"Hmph. Well, the first part must be true if I'm bothering to sail nearly a quarter way around the world just so I can pick up this tub of yours."
"Hey, now, this is hardly a tub! It's meant to be the single sturdiest cruise ship to sail the six seas! … And, to be completely honest, that's not quite right either. Our new ship isn't quite done yet."
"…do you care to repeat yourself?"
"It isn't finished yet. The general framework and hull are well underway; don't worry about that, but what about the interior design and proper aesthetics? I'm leaving that to your refined palate and sensibilities. Unless, of course, you'd rather live somewhere designed by a…" Cavendish sucked in an offended breath at the blasphemy he was about to spit. "Day labourer, would you?"
"…I suppose it would be nice to rest my head someplace without the ever-present desire to tie myself to the anchor chain… still! Quite the assumption you're making, hm? That I'll actually be sticking around after I do you this favour? I could just go off on my own, try my chances with the rest of the world!"
"And all it would cost you is the chance to live amongst and endlessly design beauty for a bastion of the veritable demigods who define the balance of this world," Cavendish said pleasantly.
"…hmph. If that spineless hors d'oeuvre can turn a profit with his patchwork abominations when his primary canvas is unwashed swashbucklers, I can't imagine I could turn up less than double his profits working with someone like you." A brief pause fell, the snail scowling and Cavendish still smiling. "Assuming I say yes to all this… what is the name of this tub I'm to oversee, hm?"
"Undecided thus far, but I was thinking something like… 'Elegant Swan of Truest Beauty'?"
"…unbelievable. You really do need me around to keep your dense head from dragging you straight to the bottom of the sea. Oh, honestly, I'm just too nice sometimes. Very well, dahling, if only out of a misguided sense of pity, I'll play your silly little games. Until we meet in person, Little Cabbage. KA-LICK!"
"Wait, wha—!? Hey, where the hell did you hear that name, Onde?! Onde!?"
-o-
In the depths of the Government's secret laboratories, two conflicted scientists pored over the after-action reports and scant remains of the three prototype BioMEGAs.
"The Hebrides design seems to have the best endurance," Hogback noted. "Shipfuls of an Emperor's crew, and it took two masters of fishman martial arts to strike its heart after the wearing down. Yet for offence, it leaves something to be desired."
"Indeed, it made no headway against the titan crane. Further proof of my own genius, of course," Indigo simpered, summarily ignoring the glare Hogback shot at him. "But if it has prodigious endurance, we need only sap its opponents."
"Yes, yes," Hogback waved him off, pacing to a nearby desk. "I've already got a list of Magellan's imports here, but you know we need a subtler approach than the Lofoten's acid bombardment."
"Well, we'll need the technical aspect for that. Where's that engineer when we actually need him?" Indigo asked.
They immediately looked at the door to Typhon Labs. And almost immediately, it slammed open with a thunderous crash, followed shortly by a lump of twitching, tenderized meat thrown onto the floor. Hogback and Indigo looked back at each other, the door slamming shut again, and nodded in satisfaction before approaching the quivering mass, close enough to lean over it. For a moment, neither spoke.
"Hogback, biology is more your specialty than mine. What do you think this is?" Indigo wondered aloud.
"Well, my first thought was that someone had made human carpaccio again," Hogback answered. "But on closer examination, I think—"
"I'm still alive, you assholes…" Ratchet husked out in a death rattle.
"Ah! My apologies, Ratchet," Hogback lied. "Not to worry, a preliminary analysis suggests that you have suffered no permanent damage! Though you may need some reconstructive work in the pelvic region…"
"Maybe actually install a new spine in him?"
"Oooh, removing the in- from an invertebrate? Truly outside-the-box thinking, doctor. I do so hope we don't lose the subject. I mean, he is highly replaceable, but I find myself becoming marginally attached."
"Fuck… you…" Ratchet gurgled as his eyes rolled back in his head.
Both scientists sighed in disappointment as he lost consciousness.
"Save him, would you? I can only stabilize him for so long."
The two double-took at an unfamiliar woman's voice, and they looked to see a short crone limping in, patches of barely healed skin all across her body and one lens of her glasses was cracked. The eye revealed beneath carried hatred and madness the likes of which they had seen in their old captains.
"And you are?"
"Nightin, doctor and last surviving member of the World Pirates, and the most masterful of herbalists you'll ever meet. The Government has stuck me with indefinite service for my crimes."
"You have our sympathies," Indigo and Hogback deadpanned as they carefully (to their annoyance) relocated Ratchet to the nearest surgical table. Nightin, meanwhile, patted herself down for a few moments before withdrawing a sample jar and following them, unscrewing it as she went.
"Use this for disinfectant, it'll—agh!" she cringed, one leg locking up and sending the contents of the jar throughout the room. Hogback and Indigo looked back at her in anger and panic, and she sighed.
"It's harmless, don't worry," Nightin huffed, getting back to her feet. "I suppose you'll have better disinfectant anyway."
Slowly, she made her way over to them. A few minutes passed as they worked on Ratchet…then she broke the silence.
"The powder has taken effect now."
"YOU SAID IT WAS HARMLESS!" Hogback howled as Indigo turned to her with a snarl.
"It is…to humans. To gastropods, on the other hand, it has the potential for inducing temporary seizures. Which, I've found, causes their occipital lobes to loop ever so slightly for several minutes without them recalling anything after."
Hogback and Indigo slowly looked around the room, fully grasping that their ever-present watchers had become cross-eyed and bleary and that, consequently, nobody could see them right now.
"We don't have much time until they regain their wits. From what little Ratchet let slip in his twilight state and from what I've managed to read of your attitudes in the past five minutes, I take it that neither of you wants to let your genius selves remain in these circumstances for an instant longer than you need to, yes?"
"As if you even need to ask!?" Hogback all but spat, as though the notion of having to ask the question offended him.
"But if you are, then I'm assuming you have a plan to… alleviate our current circumstances?" Indigo said, a clear undertone of hope audible.
"Mmph. Not one I ever thought I'd have to use, but as it happens, yes. Somehow fully aware of what would happen to someone of my nature were I to be captured alive, and somehow fully aware that I had a trump card to save myself from Magellan's poison? Our 'patron', who funded our jailbreak attempt, pulled me personally aside from my crew and gave me a fail-safe," Nightin said, withdrawing a single slim object from her clothes.
A pen.
Both held their tongues, waiting for the other shoe.
And it came as Nightin held it sideways in her hands and twisted it, releasing an image of light. The first image displayed was a note:
'Until we are properly acquainted, you may know me by the moniker… of Pennywise. Until we meet in the flesh, my fellow erudites… should you survive, that is! Shurorororo!'
Another twist, once they finished reading, revealed a map, which they easily recognized as the base they were in. They needed no more proof.
"This will not be fast—" Indigo began.
"—but it will be sure," Hogback finished.
She snapped the pen closed and stowed it away.
"So, unless there's anything else, we'll start planning once their guard is down again, and Ratchet can actually walk. Agreed?"
Both of them nodded, grimacing but not hesitating.
"But in the meantime, I heard you were looking for subtle venom? Try the Gympie Gympie. It's only deadly in great doses, but the pain it causes is acutely horrible."
This group may never be friends. They may all clash with their pride.
But Hogback, in particular, would never deny that he was seeing far more nightmares now than Moria had ever offered.
And he looked forward to unleashing them upon the world at his leisure.
-o-
"Another machine would later go on to follow up the android's words, and say that while life is indeed a spiral of life and death, life is all about the struggle within this cycle. That machine was also right."
-o-
Angmar, King of the Vikverir, sat fuming on a plush chair outside a nondescript office in Marineford. Every few minutes, his eyes would dart to the door, where a Suomi civilian, neither he nor Sir Lyonel—finally up and mobile, though still bandaged up—recognized had gone in with a World Government official they also didn't recognize. Then they would dart back to his hammer, clearly contemplating its use.
It had been two hours since then. Lyonel gave the Vikverir king another fifteen minutes before he at least threatened to break down the door. Twenty before he followed through on that threat.
Lyonel, personally, didn't particularly care whether Angmar broke down that door, but duty compelled him to at least attempt to distract his nominal comrade.
"I take it the party was still ongoing?" he ventured.
Angmar growled, his fingers whitening around his hammer's haft.
"Yes, and what a party it was. Fit for the battle we just finished," he growled. "And I am missing it. The skalds promised to have their ballads on the battle finished by today."
Lyonel hummed thoughtfully. "Do you mind if I send a few scribes their way once we're done here? I'm curious as to your styles of poetry."
"Sure, sure," Angmar said dismissively, waving his hand. No, his attention was reserved for Lyonel. "You a poet, then?"
Lyonel harrumphed. "It was that or religious texts during my schooling. I decided that poetry at least might help me with the ladies in court."
Angmar grinned. "Did it?"
"My future wife certainly liked them. I may pick it up again once I return home."
And there was the pressure again, Angmar now staring, narrow-eyed, at the knight.
"Home," he said, turning the word over. "Your king gets scared off by the battle?"
"Oh, far from it. I understand he had to be restrained by his guard to keep from joining the fresh army we're assembling," Lyonel dryly answered. "And even if he were, plenty of young firebrands among the nobility are chomping at the bit to seek gold, gore, and glory. I wish them good fortune; may they dye their steeds' hooves red with pirate blood. My war is over, barring an attack at home."
Now Angmar's look was questioning. Respectfully so, even. Lyonel chuckled.
"Do you know how old I am, Your Majesty?"
Angmar hummed thoughtfully. "At a guess, around fifty."
"Good guess. Forty-eight," he answered. "To put it another way, around the time when knights like myself, who have lands and sons, start thinking about retirement. And after the injuries I sustained during the battle…"
Angmar winced, having been there. Lyonel had suffered second-degree flash burns over practically every inch of exposed skin from the laser blast that had hit him, and far worse burns where his armour had melted onto him.
"The doctors here can work miracles, but even they were unable to restore me to full functionality," Lyonel continued. "In an emergency, I can fight. But I would better serve my liege by imparting my wisdom to our many young knights instead."
Once again, Angmar nodded. "Aye, a respectable calling. Gotta have someone around to teach the young and stupid. But I repeat myself."
The two men shared a chuckle at the old joke before falling silent. Naturally, within a few minutes, Angmar looked at the door again.
"I wonder what they're talking about in there," he mused.
"Well, you probably haven't heard, partying for days as you have, but I've heard rumours that the Suomi are attempting to…" A grimace curled on Lyonel's face. "Renegotiate their obligations towards the World Government."
Angmar whirled around to the knight. "You're joking! Why would they do that?!"
"Apparently—just a rumour, mind you—they find themselves unconvinced of the World Government's long-term prospects. Honorless curs."
As he'd spoken, Lyonel's voice had gotten colder and colder. Angmar, as was his wont, burned hotter and spat in disgust at a convenient spittoon.
"If that's the case, I agree. Honorless curs," Angmar growled. "If they weren't so good at fighting, I'd have lost all respect for them."
The door creaked open, drawing a muttered 'finally' out of Angmar. The same Suomi they'd seen earlier strode out, almost smug in his body language. This was followed by a tired "Come in."
The two warriors shared a glance, then stood and walked in. The office was just as nondescript inside as it was outside, devoid of any personal touch and furnished with old furniture with little character. Sitting behind the desk was the same World Government official they'd seen earlier, now looking harried and his hair askew.
"Okay," he said as soon as the two walked in, Lyonel closing the door behind them. "There's a bunch of formalities here, but after that negotiation, I think I'll cut to the chase. Do either of your governments wish to amend the terms of your enrollment?"
A dark look passed between Angmar and Lyonel, along with a shared thought of 'I knew it.' Thankfully, they both had an answer they knew would please the man.
"My king and my peers have only become more enthusiastic for your cause," Lyonel reported. "Our sword arms remain at your disposal."
"That was the greatest battle my people have fought since the Dragon Extermination!" Angmar declared. "Of course we're in!"
"Oh, thank Poseidon," the official said, slumping in his chair. "You would not believe what that Suomi bastard tried to pull."
"Well, don't leave us in suspense," Angmar stated.
"Well, he started with attempting to pull the Suomi out of the agreement entirely," the official said, to noises of disgust from both warriors. "Quite. Had some loopholes built into the treaty we drew up, which he pointed out."
Lyonel frowned. "Then, are they still in your service?"
"Oh, yes, because we're the World Government, so we still have the option to say 'Sign or we'll burn your island down,'" the official stated with vicious glee. "I didn't actually say that, but we both knew I could have. Anyway, I managed to talk him down to restricting Suomi deployments exclusively to New World theatres."
Once again, Angmar and Lyonel shared a look, but this time it was one of confusion.
"How is that a concession?" Lyonel asked.
"Got me," the official shrugged. "But they're on board, and that's what my superiors wanted, so I'm calling it a win. That being said, on to more palatable business: what resources will your people need to hurry along your respective deployments?"
-o-
Several levels down, Ilmari, diplomat of the recently established Suomi Foreign Service, stepped out into the sunlight of Marineford. Reaching into his briefcase, he retrieved a Transponder Snail and dialled a specific number. After two rings, the line picked up.
"They agreed," was all he said.
"Excellent," was the innocuous reply.
Satisfied, Ilmari hung up and power-walked his way to the ship that the remnants of the regiment they'd committed were embarking on. Returning to the background gave them their out, one way or the other.
-o-
The Masons were not the only covert contact that Impel Down had established. The same day, with the truth of the 'Demoning Away' now known, they had left notes in isolated cells far from any guard or snail. Notes that had received answering notes from the few prisoners that hadn't absconded with Ivankov, confirming their existence.
Confirming that there were still prisoners in Impel Down who were out of their control. And despite innocence and guilt being more subjective terms than ever now that the staff had turned against the Government, allowing them to go unchecked was out of the question. Yet, of course, so was going about things the normal way.
This brought Mistress Sadi to an isolated room on Level 3 of the prison. The verifiable lack of prying eyes had persuaded one of the renegades to meet with them and begin proper negotiations. The dominatrix was somewhat tense at the situation; it was unfamiliar territory, and more importantly, she had no idea who would be coming up.
They had a solid list of everyone who had disappeared. But with all of them having been under Ivankov's care, Tartarus only knew if they'd ever recognize them.
At long last, the door on the opposite side of the chamber opened, and a long leg wearing a leg-length high-heeled boot slid into view. Mistress Sadi was unsurprised to see that its owner was an okama.
The specifics were still a surprise, though. The okama wore a red jacket with pink tulle around the waist and collar, and a black leather belt with a bronze buckle. Their hair was short and black in a prominent widow's peak, and they wore black lipstick with pink splotches on their dimples. But what shocked Sadi most was how devilish the figure looked: pointed ears, a curly goatee at the end of a pointed face, and every inch of exposed skin lobster-red, with lobster-like claws covering their hands.
"I'm terribly sorry to have kept you waiting," the okama purred, the voice as flamboyant as she had expected.
"Oh, not to worry, I was simply thinking of using thumbscrews on you…ah…?" she trailed off, failing to recognize the prisoner as she had suspected.
"Ohh, I do hope you were thinking of the toes," the okama giggled. "Oh, and don't fret about formalities; I've gone by my initials for quite some time now. Just call me… HIM."
Beneath her locks, Sadi's eyebrows rose. But he continued before she could properly connect his identity.
"Although, if you truly wanted to make me suffer, darling, you ought to have opened with an apéritif."
"Mm, I'd think poison to be an obvious choice, given our most gracious overlord."
"Hmmm? Ohhh, nonono, darling. Nothing so banal as poison. I was thinking more of a wolfkiller."
"Oh? What's that?"
"Why, it's simply the most marvellous device you've ever seen and so utterly brilliant in its simplicity! You take a piece of baleen, bundle it as tightly as you can, tie it with some very light string, and hide it in some food. When the victim swallows it, the baleen seamlessly passes through into the intestines. Whereupon the string is dissolved, and the baleen unfolds. From there, it slowly tears through the length of the intestines. What follows is a slow, agonizing, excruciating pain… and at the end? The victim is left begging for the sweet, tender release of oblivion."
"…I've never heard of such an exquisitely awful way to kill someone…" Sadi breathed reverentially.
"Oh, rest assured, darling, I can teach you things about agony that would make your pretty little head spin. But, I suppose we had best get negotiations out of the way first—"
"Oh, no, no, no, don't worry, I believe we can wait. Please, sit down."
He graciously took the only chair in the room, only for a sudden knock to interrupt. Both of them stiffened in annoyance, even more when the guard actually opened it.
"Mistress Sadi, the Warden is calling a staff meeting," he explained hurriedly. "We found a Devil Fruit in the pantry."
The annoyance turned to intrigue and shock, and Sadi rose from her seat. She glanced back at the okama, who waved her off.
"Oh, go right along, dear. I'll be right here when you get back," he said.
Sadi smiled before she realized it, and he settled patiently into the seat as she left the room.
It was the beginning of a match made in Hell.
-o-
Despite its reputation as a festival island, San Faldo was not a place for blood sports. They were built for family-friendly fun and kept their more adult entertainment very strictly regulated in content and location.
Thus, it was a good thing the Jormungandr had set up camp in the woods outside the city. Else the constabulary would've been compelled to at least attempt to arrest them for the fight that was soon to begin.
An arena was set up, with two opponents on opposite sides. A one-eyed amazon and the undisputed top dog—top cat, rather, of Jormungandr.
"We have no issue welcoming a competent warrior into our lower ranks," Lucci enunciated coldly. "Time will prove if you deserve to stand among us."
"Time is something I can't afford to waste," Marguerite answered without flinching. "I'm prepared to go through hell to improve faster."
"I'm not interested in taking on an apprentice, least of all someone who hasn't mastered the Six Powers," Lucci countered.
"I don't know the Six Powers. But do you know Haki?"
Lucci hadn't moved from his spot. He hadn't expected her to offer anything that could make him change his mind, but stranger things had happened. And here was another.
"No, I do not," he answered.
"You won't find a better teacher outside of the New World. Armament Haki is a daily part of the Kujas' lives; we know it inside and out. I'll teach you as well as you teach me."
"And your Captain? Are you forsaking the Kuja Pirates?"
"No. But I have leave for as long as I wish. The Government carried their fight to our home, and I intend to return the favour. And nothing would be better than turning their power against them."
Lucci's eyes narrowed as he finally sized her up properly. It was a minute before he spoke again.
"You will be third-class among Jormungandr until you have learned the Six Powers. With your proficiency in Haki, you will be held to standards twice as strict as the rest of us, with no regard for your missing eye. You will not challenge me after tonight until you have bested the rest of those who were once CP9. And you will submit to any training without argument or complaint."
"And you and anyone else who wants to learn Haki will do the same, even to possible degradation."
The pair of them held each other's eyes for a moment.
"I accept," Marguerite said.
Then she ducked, and a second later, a Finger Pistol stabbed into the space where her eye had just been. Forgoing her bow, she drew a knife and stabbed at the assassin's quadriceps. Unfortunately, despite his weight being thrown into a lunge, which should've made the move he pulled impossible, he limboed back hard enough that the knife passed an inch in front of his knee.
Her Observation screamed an attack coming at her blind spot. Trusting it and remembering both their respective positioning and how the Tempest Kick worked, she stabbed her knife into the ground and used it as leverage to dodge out of Lucci's line of fire.
Or, at least, she tried. Despite the forewarning, the razor wind came faster than she imagined possible, catching her at the top of her arc with no way to dodge except to fall.
That, along with her Armament, saved her life, at least.
"AUGH!"
But the razor wind still carved into her chest, leaving a bleeding trench in its wake. She hit the ground, rolled—and took a Finger Pistol to the shoulder, her Observation blaring a warning the second after it made impact.
His opponent, now bleeding from two wounds and down an arm, Lucci turned around, flicking considerably less blood than he had expected off his finger. The next instant, his instincts demanded he move.
A quick change to his leopard form and back allowed him to duck under the arrows Marguerite had fired. He eyed the wound in her shoulder: bleeding sluggishly, it was clearly shallower than his finger.
This Haki, he decided, was annoying.
But, he mused as he slowly returned his gaze to the Amazon, flaring his claws in anticipation, it was also just the slightest bit interesting. Interesting enough to warrant him giving his would-be opponent his attention for a little while longer.
In the spirit of this decision, Lucci lunged at Marguerite with a blood-curdling snarl, and the fight roared back to life.
~One Hour Later~
On one side of the arena, aside from having doffed his trademark hat, Rob Lucci was as impeccable as ever, completely unruffled by a solid hour of combat.
On the other side, Marguerite was almost unrecognizable with her blood-coated face. Her good eye had swollen shut, and the left side of her jaw was swelling, clearly broken. Blood oozed from a long, shallow cut on her torso, her left arm hung limply from a shredded shoulder, and her right was only working because her snake Kaa had wrapped himself around it in an unknowing imitation of her queen.
Lucci raised an eyebrow. In response to this unspoken challenge, Marguerite declared, with surprising vigour, "I can do this… all day!"
On the sidelines, Jabra scoffed derisively. "Not the last words I'd have chosen if I were standing where she is."
"At least she had the class to not say 'thank you, sir, may I have another?'" Kalifa retorted, the sunlight glinting briefly off her glasses.
"I TOLD YOU, THE BASTARD CONCUSSED ME!"
Back on the field, Lucci's eyes finally graced the Amazon with respect before he nodded. "I can work with this," he declared.
Then he shaved in front of her and swept her ankle, all present wincing at the angle it bent at.
Unable to support her weight any longer, Marguerite crashed to the ground with a cry of pain.
Expression unchanging, Lucci turned to one of the organization's more junior members, a bespectacled man in a white lab coat. "Get her patched up, with priority to that sprained ankle," he ordered. "I want her up and mobile as soon as possible." He paused, then added, "And no modifications this time."
"I am never going to live down sewing Hattori into Kaku, am I?" the medic groused rhetorically as he went to work. "It was an accident! But do zey believe me? No! Honestly, he'd have coughed him back up eventually! Sooner, if the dummkopf had shortened his neck! "
Had she not been thoroughly concussed, Marguerite would've been scrambling away from the man fast enough to impress even Lucci. As it was, Kaa decided that discretion was the better part of valour and was already up the nearest tree.
Assured that their newest recruit was taken care of, Lucci retrieved his hat and accepted several manila folders from the masked, besuited former member of CP2. Most of them veritably bulged with documents, but rather than any of those, Lucci pulled out and opened the thinnest.
Inside were several pictures of people in white suits and odd masks. Their next targets.
They wouldn't be going after them today or tomorrow. Likely not for years to come. But they'd get them eventually.
However long it took, Jormungandr would finish the job.
-o-
Most new members of the Zodiac of the Divine weren't given such a major assignment as their first one. But most new members weren't on the incredibly short list of Marines who could still casually approach the recently retired Vice Admiral and not get glared away.
Or get too bewildered upon entering their old training ground to see that, as was (stereo)typical of a retired old man, he was kicking back with a fishing rod.
And judging by the giant sea snake on the shore beside him, it seemed like he was actually doing a good job of it.
Still, Koby and Helmeppo approached Garp carefully. Fortunately, there was no need to worry; he cracked a grin and stood up as they came up to him.
"Hey, boys! Shouldn't you two still be in bed resting or something?"
The two boys' utterly flat, silent looks communicated just how little they wanted to hear that from someone with his family name.
"Heh, that's fair! So! Here to do some fishing with a retired, feeble old man who's lost half his marbles? Won't stop you if you are; just pick up a rod and—!"
"Actually, sir—"
"That's Mister Monkey to you brats!"
There was a moment's pause before Garp joined the boys in grimacing.
"Okay, yeah, no, that sounds horrible. But still, knock it off with that 'sir' crap! I didn't go through three straight days of paperwork and ass-chewing so I could keep getting called that. I'm retired, and there's nothing you or anyone else can do about it. Just call me Garp."
Helmeppo and Koby trade glances, and then…
"About that. We wanted to discuss something of a job offer with you, G…G…ugh, no, can't do it. Sorry, sir."
"Ha!" Garp chuckled. "Yeah, that's fair. I remember ol' Zeph had a hard time getting used to not calling me 'sir' when he got promoted. We'll work on it."
His smile faded to a wry smirk. "But who's putting you two up to whatever this is? I'm not planning on coming back to the Navy after all of this."
The two of them exchanged looks again.
"You're not exactly the only one who feels that way, sir. You could say that, er…"
Koby stepped closer and lowered his voice.
"You could say that you'd only be putting on a mask."
All levity fled Garp's face, and several emotions flashed over his face. Then he frowned, narrowing his eyes. It wasn't normal to see him taken aback or deep in thought. But they thought nothing of it, considering what they had just said.
Veins popped on both of their skulls; however, when they heard him snoring a few seconds later.
"Oh, for the love of—wake the hell up!" Koby snapped, grabbing one of Helmeppo's knives and slamming the flat of it against his nose.
Garp snorted and straightened immediately, and an amused smirk came back on his face at the glowers of his former apprentices. It stayed in place as he shrugged.
"Eh, what the hell? What's life without giving Senny another heart attack or twenty?"
The veins turned to sweatdrops.
"Well, at least he's enthusiastic?" Koby asked.
"Like a dog after a bone…" Helmeppo groaned.
-o-
"But something that should also be known is that some cycles of life and death, of beginnings and ends, are longer than others."
-7 Days After the War-
Certain parties worldwide would wait no longer now that the war was solidly behind them. Its aftermath, of course, was not.
"With our Warden and Adjutants occupied until further notice, if there are no objections, I will conduct this meeting."
Silence met Tsuru's request. Even among the Damned, nobody was brash enough to contest her.
"Then let us begin. Before we move to business, we have many newcomers to our roster. Beginning with the Damned, ladies first."
"As it should be," came a cool, imperious female voice. "'Pirate Empress' Boa Hancock, Captain of the Kuja Pirates and de facto liaison for the New World Masons and Revolutionary Army. The Snake seat, of course, is mine. The full might of Amazon Lily awaits the chance to destroy the Government."
"I have chosen Boar," rumbled a deep, ominous voice. "Vice Warden Magellan of Impel Down. I now rank among the criminals I have dedicated my life to persecuting, something I accept only because of the naked bias of those making the rules."
"Sorry to cut in—I mean not really, but still—but how exactly are you going to help?" Bartolomeo cut in. "Nobody here is stupid enough to think you're a pushover, but do you and yours ever leave that hellhole?"
"Rarely, if at all," Magellan conceded.
"I hope you're not saying that you have doubts about him deserving to be here because of something like that?" Foxy drawled.
"Meaning what? This ain't like Rabbit, where we're turning another island into a base."
"Fehfehfehfehfehfeh…Boar, allow me to venture a guess: you know the World Government's lawbook cover to cover and by heart, right?"
"Naturally."
"And can anyone else tell me precisely what you can do if you know all of the rules?" Foxy asked, his grin ear to ear.
"Find every possible way to cheat," Apoo said, grinning even wider. "Geez, even with Cross AWOL, I'm meeting my match for troublemaking."
"Back on track, if you please," Tsuru's voice cut in. "We have filled three seats on the Divine as well. Taurus and Gemini cannot attend this meeting, but that leaves one other."
There was a tense pause.
"Vice-Admiral Momonga. Leo."
"We welcome our newest members. Before we list our full roster, a final verification: the three of you vow now to stake your lives on destroying the World Government and forming a world of freedom in its place. Not a world of disorder and chaos, but not a world of fear and slavery. We will strive constantly for a balance between the freedom to be who we wish to be and everyone's safety. Victory or death, one way or the other, with all you can offer behind our efforts. Do you accept?"
"Of course."/ "Obviously."/ "Until their end, we cannot begin to know peace."
Whether their motivations were born of trauma, guilt, or duty, they all agreed with iron determination.
"Then that is that. Now we shall introduce ourselves. Vice Admiral 'Great Staff Officer' Tsuru, Aquarius."
"Commodore 'White Hunter' Smoker, Cancer."
"Lieutenant 'Inquisitor' Tashigi, Pisces."
"Former Captain 'Black Cage' Hina, Capricorn."
"Former Captain 'Ship-Cutter' T-Bone, Scorpio."
"Vice Admiral 'Chessmaster' Jonathan, Sagittarius."
"Back on the Damned's side of things, 'Fiendish' Foxy, Goat."
"'Roar of the Seas' Scratchmen Apoo, Monkey!"
"'Black Bart' Bartolomeo, Rooster."
"'Blue Ogre' Dorry—"
"And 'Red Ogre' Broggy—"
"—Ox!"
"'Mist Maiden' Lola, Rabbit."
"'Surgeon of Death' Trafalgar Law, Tiger."
"And last but definitely not least, 'Hellbeast Princess' Perona, Puppy."
There was a moment's pause as the new arrivals processed these names before finally responding.
"Well. The loudmouth has certainly been busy, I'll give him that much…" Momonga mused.
"At least he has some sense in his choice of allies…" Magellan grunted. "Most of your number are difficult enough to condone. Had Kid been amongst your ranks, I might very well have walked. Some offence intended."
"Some taken, buuut not much. Trust us, we hate the punk bastard too!" Apoo snickered; the sentiment was echoed by his fellow pirates.
"Mmph… I quite dislike the idea of working in conjunction with so many men, but needs must. At least the number of women present inspires some degree of confidence," Hancock said.
"HEY! We saved you and your sisters' asses out there, doesn't that count for squat?!" Bartolomeo barked incredulously.
"Yes, it does: you all laying eyes upon our island and living to tell the tale. Truly, I am most generous. And you will, of course, allow me this, for I am—!"
"Enough." Tsuru cut in with a harsh knock of her cane on wood.
"GRK! Damn crones, not even on the same damn island…" Hancock hissed petulantly.
"Now that the introductions are out of the way, to business."
That simple declaration served its purpose; the snickers from that last interaction died abruptly.
"The war has come and gone, and as Ophiuchus said, it is from these ashes and in this time that we must focus on rebuilding the world. Or, barring that, focus on fortifying our position and gathering our strength for that far-off day. The Straw Hats will return in only two years. Capricorn and Scorpio, what is our current status report?"
A stern, tired face came over the snail.
"Overall, the evacuation was successful. The Black Cage Squadron's recovery has proceeded smoothly, as nobody has thought to search the ruins of Enies Lobby. Our medical camp has done all that it can."
"Now that we finally have another storm on the horizon, Puffing Tom will arrive this evening to transfer you and your injured to Water 7's hospitals," Dorry cut in. "If the chance to seize Punk Hazard still surfaces, we have plenty of nondescript boats for the operation, and meanwhile, you'll have all that you need to recover and contact the families of the deceased."
"Something we will need," T-Bone sighed exhaustedly. "A final headcount reveals that we lost approximately 23% of our mutineers, including those who succumbed to their injuries upon leaving the war. A further 36%, myself included, are still recovering from injuries sustained. We are notifying the families of those who lost their lives or were unable to inform them before the war."
"For what it's worth, from what I saw, you nearly had the flat-faced bastard. Got nearly halfway through his neck before the damn Yaksha made you fumble that parry," Law summarized in a grim tone.
"Next time, I intend to finish his sentence with gusto," T-Bone ground out in much the same voice.
"Very good, then. Pisces, Cancer, your status?"
"Despite the jailbreaks, all of our men are present and accounted for," Tashigi answered softly. "Physically, we're all fine. But a bit shaken at being unable to respond to Ophiuchus's distress call."
"We intend to keep our ears open for any further leads on this 'Hell of Darkness,'" Tsuru answered with a dark frown.
"Our current orders have us returning to Marineford. I'll be attending a hearing on my failure to prevent Straw Hat's jailbreak before receiving my actual marching orders, so it shouldn't be more than a week or two. In the meantime, Pisces will be checking in before heading down to Water 7. Apparently, there's something there she needs to acquire."
"We'll be sure to welcome her with open—"
"But subtle!"
"—Arms! Well, subtle for us, anyway!"
"And you aren't worried about the hearing?" Magellan posed.
"Not particularly. I've got it on good authority that this will all be a formality."
"Is the source reliable?"
"He should be. He's the judge."
"…Turnabout is fair play, I suppose."
"Not sure where I'm aiming for next, though. It all depends on whether Sakazuki still takes the seat."
"We shall see. Tensions are high concerning the appointment. And Sagittarius?"
"First of all, grave news: former Admiral Zephyr and his most loyal troops and trainees have departed without leave or notice. Given their already precarious states of mind at the time…I fear this bodes ill for the future. I do not believe them to be of any immediate threat to the Masons, or at least the Divine, but to themselves and others, well…"
"That… does not sound good, no…" Apoo hedged warily. "I'll put out some feelers, see what comes up. An army like that can't hide forever…"
"He said, forgetting about Shiki and his hordes…" Perona pointed out.
"Unfortunately, well said…" Jonathan nodded grimly before continuing. "As for our own efforts, Navarone remains unshaken, both the island and the soldiers. The war cost us only 4% of our soldiers in the organized formations. We will still need to be wary of the 'conscription campaign' that Ophiuchus referred to. And indeed, I heard rumours of it as we were returning. It's still early days, but I imagine they'll begin by delving into areas ravaged by pirates recently, where Cross's voice won't have resonated particularly well with anyone."
"Tch. All of these contacts, entire islands turned, and still too many more islands out of reach," Apoo bemoaned. "Hopefully, we can use this time to spread our network wider. We got anyone at ground zero for this fresh blood hunt?"
"Yes, you do: me," Momonga declared bluntly. "I've already been tapped for deployment on this assignment, both to keep me away from Marineford a bit longer for my apparent insubordination and because my background is amenable to the individuals we seek to recruit. I shall take the measure of as many as I can. And, in particular, to keep an eye out for this 'Issho' character."
"Very good. Now I'll share my own news from the top of things," Tsuru said. "Sengoku and Garp have struck bargains to remain within the Navy's ranks as instructors for future Marines in exchange for three months paid time off in their home oceans. Sengoku will, I hope, be doing soul-searching in the South Blue. As for Garp, he will take the time to recover and fortify certain islands of interest. When he returns, he will be actively involved with our operations as Taurus."
A brief pause came over the connection.
"So, we've got all three of those Monkeys on our side now?" Apoo deadpanned.
"For a given definition of the term regarding the middle generation, but essentially."
"Well, better with than against, that's for damn sure. So, is Gemini Koby, then? After that show he put on at the end…"
"He is still recovering from the trauma of awakening a powerful talent for Observation in the middle of a war, yes. But he and Chief Petty Officer Helmeppo will report for duty as soon as they are recovered."
"Yeesh. That'll probably take a couple of weeks," Lola said with a wince.
"Indeed. Now… the last item on the side of the Divine is Jormungandr's status report. With the other eight Cipher Pols subjugated and Bison commanding a means of covert aquatic transportation, they will be able to resume their information gathering, but for our own ends. They will primarily focus on locations with vulnerabilities, either for recruitment to our cause or destruction to detract from our opposition."
"It's the damnedest thing: usually, I'm not what you'd call a fan of spooks and suits…" Barto grumbled before abruptly sounding more chipper. "But when it's to help us, well then hell, I'm all for it!"
"Truly, a phenomenon that boggles the mind," Law snarked, to a bevy of laughs.
"Hmph, quite," Tsuru concluded with a curt nod. "All that being said, I believe that is all we Divine have to offer at this stage."
"…So, transitioning to the Damned now? Well, our newest island base is coming along nicely," Foxy said with a grin. "The bounty hunters here and I have come to an understanding, and we're in the middle of building a permanent base. Really more of a permanent carnival ground-slash-amusement park, but believe me when I say that in our hands, it's set to become a butcher's shop! We'll see how much we vary between recruitment and hunting based on the visitors, but at the moment, I'll focus on raising the quality of who I've recruited rather than expanding the quantity."
"Water 7 is doing well also," Dorry concurred. "Iceburg and Galley-La have been working overtime on the plans for the last two weeks, and we've got a solid plan to get the place floating, though not mobile, within a month."
"Meanwhile, our fortifications and weaponry are making excellent progress. And I think I heard Iceburg mention designing a water cannon using the fountain or something," Broggy added with a grin. "Aqua Laguna's made an impression on the city over the years, and for once, it'll be for the better!"
"Got to keep your home well-guarded," Lola concurred with a sage nod. "Skelter Bite is fine as well. The Obelisks are as unfailing as ever, and we're not seeing many new clients. Although the Great Kung Fu Fleet hasn't set off yet." She paused. "I could possibly try recruiting them."
"I would advise an unofficial alliance, at the most," Jonathan opined. "They've been stationary for a while now, but I don't exactly foresee itinerant warriors such as they remaining rooted in one location for much longer than they have been."
"A fair argument," Lola conceded. "I don't have much else to report, though. Whatever pirates are still here seem to be largely permanent residents, and not many are incoming right now."
"The full impact of Whitebeard's dying words hasn't sunk in yet. Trust me, we'll get the swell of new blood soon," Apoo said, grinning ruefully. "I should know; I'm the one spreading the news! The Free Feather Report is starting off strong and reaching as far as the WEJ does, or rather did at this point, and we're pulling down a hell of a lot of subscribers and payment for it. And applications to work for us are pouring in at a good pace, too. We'll just have to make sure none of them are the birdbrain's moles."
"Pass the resumes on to Jormungandr. You won't hear back from the ones who don't pass muster."
"…aaaand I'm gonna just spend a minute snickering at the fact that the world's second-best—for now!—source of free and honest information is embroiled in a lethal global conspiracy! APAPAPA!"
"Horohorohoro…it is pretty funny, I'll admit. On my end, Merveille is standing strong. My Peerage is growing stronger; the rest of my pets stayed tame while I was away at war, and it seems the new species are growing more docile. A few more generations, and the natives may be able to tame them without me. If that happens, I'll double down on my powers. I intend to be ready for the real trouble when it shows up."
"As will the Kujas," Hancock said regally. "The crew is already aware of our new alliance, and it largely makes no difference in how we have acted in the past. It has been a long while since I have taken orders from anyone, but…I am willing to cooperate."
"I, personally, would like to discuss the possibility of comparing our forces," Tsuru said with a soft smile.
Hancock blinked slowly before returning the smile. "Ahh, yes. I do recall that your crew was exclusively female. I think a cultural exchange would be a fitting beginning."
"Well, this should be fun," Bartolomeo snickered. At a slap from someone, he shook himself and refocused with a heavier-than-necessary frown. "Anyway, as for those of us who don't have entire islands at our command yet…not much shit to share, honestly. We're fucking off for the New World and seeing what we can do."
"Although I have a few plans of my own in motion," Law interrupted. "An alliance here or there, a mid-term goal to aim for in the meantime… I'll share them as they come to fruition."
"And before anything is likely to blow up in our face, right?" Apoo cut in.
Law just smirked.
"So I am the last," Magellan exhaled. "Well, we have established a liaison with the remaining Revolutionaries who have escaped their cells and have begun a lengthy process of going over the prisoners and determining them innocent or guilty."
"Kyuuu."
"Yes, Popora, we greatly appreciate you remaining here to help us," Magellan said, tired but sincere. "From here…where we can release the innocent, we shall. Where we cannot, they will be 'demoned away' to join the new 'Prisoners' Resources Department.'"
"At least it'll be a fair sight better than their typical treatment, that's for damn sure!" Bartolomeo snickered.
"Would you care to compare them for yourself? Rest assured, our doors are always open for individuals of your particular… reputation."
"GRK!"/ "SONNUVA—!"/ "Oh, what the hell—!?" A chorus of panicked cries rang out as a dozen snails simultaneously growled out a noxious cloud.
"And that sounds like a fantastic stopping point," Smoker grunted with a raspy huff. "So, unless anyone else has anything else to bring up—"
"One moment, if you please."
The Masons collectively sobered up and quieted down. Not merely because Tsuru had spoken but because she sounded uncharacteristically subdued. She sounded… old.
The wizened Vice-Admiral visibly took a moment to collect herself before speaking. "I have been alive and served the Marines for… for a very long time. And in that time, I have gone to battle countless times. To war, countless more. And in almost every instance that I have done so… more often than not, I have left it with fewer friends than I entered it. I would just like to say that I am… I am glad that this instance was not one of those times. So… thank you. Thank you all for surviving this ordeal, no matter how harrowing it proved to be."
There was a lengthy silence as the Masons processed this statement. Then, a dry chuckle rasped through the connection.
"Hehahahaha…" Bartolomeo chuckled, seemingly to himself. "Two years to go before things kick off for real… gonna be a hell of a long time. There are a lot more fights… don't any of you dipshits go dying on me, you hear? When all's said and done, I want to see just how big of a crater we leave once we all get good and brickfaced!"
A fresh round of chuckles rippled out across the conspiracy, not even the most recalcitrant of their members able to contain themselves at that proclamation.
"A good point made crass, Rooster…" Tashigi sighed wistfully. "But, not a wrong one. Whatever fresh hell this world throws at us… I just hope you all will be ready and waiting on the other side so that we can see it through together."
Another chorus of general agreements and assents, and then Tsuru spoke once more.
"Well then, with all that said… much like the Straw Hats, let us not consider this a goodbye. Merely an… 'until we meet again.' But until we do… for the moment, let this meeting of the Zodiac of the Divine and the Zodiac of the Damned of the New World Masons come to an end."
And with that declaration, snails worldwide let loose a final KA-LICK and fell silent.
-o-
"For those of us with longer cycles, we often find some solace in the shorter cycles. In watching their fleeting struggles, and how they rally against an ending they know will come all too soon. Watching them live, as we could never live, and die as we could never die."
-14 Days After the War-
At the slowly rebuilding site of Marineford, Sakazuki straightened his tie as he prepared to address the subordinates awaiting him. With Kuzan AWOL and Borsalino undergoing remedial training after getting grievously injured for the third time this year, his promotion to Fleet Admiral was guaranteed. And with the current state of things, he couldn't afford to wait until its finalization to prepare the troops.
The war had shaken the world. And they needed to stabilize it before it crumbled apart.
As he marched out, his gloved hand traced over the obsidian prosthetic that had replaced his missing hand, and he reminded himself how important it was. He walked to the prepared parapet and wasted no time as he saw the soldiers' eyes upon him.
"Two weeks ago, the Navy experienced the greatest blow to its pride and numbers in living memory. The heirs of the two worst criminals in recent history slipped through our fingers, making every sacrifice and loss we made along the way for nothing. And the strength of our collective enemies is now excruciatingly clear.
"I stand before you now as Sengoku's successor, and I tell you now that Justice falls to us to enforce. Our enemies are great, many, and growing every day. It falls to us to preserve a world of order—"
Bong…
"—to ensure that all threats—"
Bong…
"—both old and new, near and far—"
Bong…
"—will not go unchallenged."
Bong…
"We are the ones tasked with—"
Bong…
"—keeping the peace, and now—"
Bong…
"—that we have lost so much—"
Bong…
"—it is more vital than ever before—"
Bong…
"—that we keep our focus."
Bong…
"WHO IS RINGING THAT!?"
Bong…
All eyes turned to Marineford's plaza.
Bong…
All eyes fell on the Ox Bell, where a single figure stood.
Bong…
The gathered crowd parted for Akainu, who moved toward the bell and its ringer barely slow enough to be called walking.
Bong…
And all thoughts of his speech vacated their minds when they finally realized who was standing there and ringing the bell. And the amount of trouble that it was likely to cause.
Bong…
And it wasn't because of anything that they could see of the figure's features. That barely helped them confirm his identity.
Bong…
It was because of what they could see in the bay leading a straight line from the horizon to the Ox Bell: one long line of ice.
Bong…
Sakazuki slowed his approach upon realizing this fact, his frown deep as he came up behind him. But even as he spoke, he could tell that something was wrong.
"What is the meaning of this?"
"I think it's appropriate," Kuzan answered, his back still turned. "So many things have ended now. And so many more things are starting. For me, the past is in the past. But I'm not going to forget it as I focus on the present."
Sakazuki stared, his expression not changing. After a moment, he sighed angrily, deeming any further protest or chastisement not worth the effort.
"If your sabbatical is over, then get back to your post, Admiral Aokiji," he huffed, turning on his heel.
"No."
The response came immediately, before he could take a single step away. Slowly, dangerously, Sakazuki turned back to glower at the man.
"What was that, Admiral Aokiji?" Akainu growled.
"I said 'No,'" he repeated, and as he turned to face him, Sakazuki almost flinched. The scowl on Aokiji's face was even more ferocious than his own, his eyes practically shining with cold fury. And then, it hit Sakazuki, what was wrong with this image: for the first time in years, the Red Dog didn't need to angle his gaze downwards; the ice-man was standing straight. It was more energy than he had seen Kuzan show since…ever.
"For the past twenty years, I've ignored my better judgment and followed orders because it was the easiest thing to do. But following the order to let Blackbeard live has caused one of the worst disasters in living memory. I doubt I can ever make up for what I've done anymore. But I'm going to try, starting now."
He ripped the sleeping mask off his head, and it crystallized in his grasp before he crushed it into diamond dust.
"The era of Lazy Justice is over. From this point forward, my Justice is that of Atonement. I will put everything I have into fixing the mistakes I've made, and I'm not going to let anyone tell me I'm wrong. Not the Elder Stars. Not Jeremiah Cross. And not you."
He held his hand out to the side, and an ice partisan materialized in his hand.
"Former Admiral Sakazuki. You are guilty of war crimes, crimes against humanity, and the genocide of the civilian population of the island of Ohara. The weight of these crimes makes you fully unsuitable for serving the Marines, let alone leading them. I challenge you to a duel, Sakazuki. The island of Punk Hazard, one week from today. The winner will succeed Sengoku as Fleet Admiral. The loser will die."
Sakazuki stared at the man without a word for several moments, processing everything he had said and the unprecedented fire in his eyes.
Then his glower returned in full force, and he raised his new fist.
"I accept. I could list off the plethora of charges that you have on your own head, Former Admiral Kuzan. But frankly, I've wanted to excise your lacklustre justice for a long time."
As the air above and around Marineford crackled and raged with conflicting temperatures, all who bore witness to the standoff knew that this fight would represent one of the greatest conflicts in the history of the Marines.
What few suspected, however, was that this duel would only be the harbinger of the true conflict yet to come.
-o-
Upon the peaceful isle of Sphinx, the remnants of the Whitebeard Pirates stood solemnly around their captain's newly erected gravestone. His naginata stood tall, and his coat, its back immaculate but its edges singed, fluttered proudly from it.
The fifteen commanders stood before it, a long moment of silence as the overdue funeral for their father came to a close. The only one who stood on equal ground with them was Isuka, her new coat rather Marine-like but still looking good on her. But as the solemnity faded, a feverish tension filled the air as Portgas D. Ace stepped up, walked a few paces away from Whitebeard's grave, and turned to face all of them.
"I know you're all furious. I know you all want revenge. You want Blackbeard's head on a spike. His fleet in ashes, every one of his lieutenants driven before us, and everything he's ever built reduced to rubble. You want payback for every last thing that bastard's done, to us and in general. Believe me when I say that I understand. I feel the exact same way, the exact same fury, if not more so than most of you here. So believe me when I say that it kills me, kills me to say this…"
Ace paused, long enough to draw in and release a deep, thoroughly super-heated breath… before he spoke the six words he would never have said over a year ago.
"But it's not going to happen. Not yet."
For whatever reason, nobody shouted at this declaration. But the shock, confusion, and outrage were practically palpable among the gathered pirates, even among the commanders.
"I'm going to say this once, and only once, so that my words are clear and there is no room for doubt and ambiguity: The Whitebeard Pirates will not go on a crusade of vengeance against the Blackbeard Pirates. Not today, not tomorrow, not next month, not even next year. There will be no immediate retaliation for Marineford."
He turned away, staring at the horizon beyond. In doing so, he allowed everyone looking at him to see his new tattoo. On the back of his neck was now a small jolly roger with a long and curly mustache.
"Pops warned me not to go after Blackbeard, and I didn't listen. An oracle—" Ace trailed off at the number of rolled eyes he could feel behind him and rolled his own. "—Alright, fine, Cross told me I would die in my brother's arms if I went after Blackbeard, and I couldn't back down. Now Pops is dead, and the only reason I'm not under a gravestone right beside him is that Cross pulled every connection he had and then some to rig the war for us. For Luffy. And I still might have died if I hadn't had Isuka and my brothers there to keep me from losing my head and going after him again. It's nothing less than a miracle that I'm standing here right now. So the last thing I'm going to do is make it all for nothing by getting us killed at the first chance we get."
The outrage subsided into simmering anger. Anger at the fact that, as much as they one and all hated his words, they knew that Ace was right.
One of them broke the tension by stepping forward, his usual expression of neutrality marred by a frown, but otherwise head and shoulders calmer than the rest. "So what's the play, Acting Captain?" Marco asked patiently.
"First of all… get used to calling me that. Because no matter what else happens, no matter what may come…" Ace pointed up, indicating the monument in whose shadow he stood. "We are the Whitebeard Pirates. And no matter how the world changes, no matter who's giving the orders or charting our course, who our Captain is will not. Aye?"
A resounding "Aye!" bellowed back in turn, and that was that.
He turned back to face them, a ghost of a smile on his face.
"Glad to hear it. As for our current plans… for now, we're playing the long game. We focus on standing our ground and keeping Blackbeard from gaining more than we can stop. He's been planning this for a while, so losing some of our territory is inevitable, but we can still hold onto enough. We take the time to get as good a look at the powers on his side as he already has of us. We recruit whoever wants to join us and meets our standards. And above all, we grow stronger. All of us. But we're not going to make waves. Not when there's already a tsunami in the making. We're going to wait for that wave, and we're going to ride it over the Blackbeard Pirates and straight to Laugh Tale.
"Our captain survived countless fatal wounds over a few hours. I think our crew can stand tall for a few years."
And slowly, almost unwillingly, the tension of discontent among them turned to determination.
Edward Newgate was dead and gone. But no force in the New World would extinguish his legacy.
-o-
"But while the struggle within the cycle can often be the most interesting part… sometimes the ending, even one ending, is what changes everything that comes after. The ending is where a single spark… can turn into a firestorm. A blaze, bright enough to illuminate entire worlds."
-o-
The good news for Totto Land was that Big Mom's hunger tantrum had subsided. But her feelings in the face of Whitebeard's death were nowhere close to burning out.
A funeral was too sombre, and a party for the new opportunities too disrespectful. So she threw a Celebration of Life on Whole Cake Island and rejoiced in the past, present, and future.
The four Sweet Commanders and a handful of her other children were there. Around the rest of the room were many mirrors reflecting the faces of many other Charlottes across the archipelago, all smiling happily as they watched the celebration. A good part of that happiness was that they were far, far away from the risk of their mother… losing her composure again.
Charlotte Linlin grinned throughout the feast, laughing and dancing and gobbling any Homies that crossed her path. She laughed, she cried, she created, and she devoured.
Because in the end, that was all she knew how to do: to devour and consume. To engulf anything and everything in her path without a second's thought or a moment's remorse.
Until the seas ran dry and the stars burned out… Charlotte Linlin would devour it all.
-o-
In the wastelands of Wano caused by his many factories, Kaido, the King of Beasts, stood bloodied but unbowed. With the way Whitebeard had perished, the legacy he had left behind, the future was bright. One way or the other, destiny was on the horizon.
In the face of the countless impossibilities that the last year had wrought, he had begun to entertain the possibility, the slight possibility, that the rising generation would bring someone who could defeat him. That Joy Boy would soon come. And if that was a possibility, he had an excuse to do something that he hadn't had to do since before Roger had died: Train.
And in the wastelands of Wano, he had engaged in that training and executed a new horizon of despair for Wano's civilians.
Because he had challenged his crew, the entirety of the Beast Pirates, ordering them to fight him with all they had. And he was winning.
Waiters were walloped, Pleasures were pummeled, Gifters were gifted with nearly a dozen broken bones apiece, Headliners had their headcases rattled. The Three Calamities were the only ones who remained standing, and all three were on their last legs. Kaido observed this with a small smirk. It would not be the last time he tried this.
Orochi watched with excitement. If all the force Kaido could bring to bear couldn't defeat him, what could?
And Yamato watched by snail from Onigashima, chains intact. No matter how much of an additional challenge it could be, Kaido would never risk freeing him, especially with Ace still alive.
But if Kaido thought that losing was a possibility, no matter how remote, then the hope in the self-proclaimed Oden's heart couldn't be stronger. But there was no way he or anyone else could prepare for just how many souls would return to Wano when Ace fulfilled his promise…
-One Month After the War-
Buggy had no reason to put up a façade before anyone anymore. The comical overreactions that made him seem less of a threat were something he was unlikely to revisit.
Hence, when he entered Pangaea Castle for his inauguration, the reaction that he gave to seeing Douglas Bullet waiting there was not overblown in the least. The only reason he wasn't slack-jawed and buggy-eyed at the sight was that it was wholly unsuitable to show weakness in front of him.
"What in the Nine-Ringed Circus of Hell are you doing here, Demon?!"
"Hmph. Clown. So you're here too. Apparently, they want pirates worth their salt in the ranks now."
"How have you been standing here for any amount of time, and nobody is dead yet?!"
"Captain's almost back. So I need to be patient. Just a bit more… until he's here."
It was nothing Buggy was unaware of. But he'd hoped it hadn't gotten that much of Bullet's interest.
"Until then…" Bullet rumbled, rolling his shoulder and causing a series of loud cracks, like an old tree splitting in half. "Need to get ready. Knock off the rust. Kill some time… until I can meet him again. Being a Warlord… should be interesting for a while."
Buggy ground his teeth darkly. "Sure, 'interesting.' One word that keeps popping up whenever our damn crew is involved…" Even as he cursed his luck and fate, Buggy tried to process and plan through this development. It was inconvenient, but it wasn't as catastrophic as it could be. With any luck, Bullet would leave enough of a burning trail to steer well clear of him, and only the most cataclysmic of events would be capable of garnering his interest. Until there was no other choice, Buggy could do as he'd always done and keep out of the Demon's way.
And since he knew that he had a while before Straw Hat got back, that gave him significant lee—
"And more than that…"
'There's more?!' Buggy thought incredulously, side-eyeing the Demon with outright near-paranoia.
"The other one."
It took all the decorum Buggy had to keep his stomach from dropping clean out of his torso. "'Other one'…?" he repeated numbly, hoping against all rational despair that Bullet wasn't talking about who he knew he was—!
"Last time, Captain and the Hero fought him on their own. I could only fight his crew. But this time…"
And then, Buggy witnessed one of the most terrible sights of his life.
Bullet smiled, and the world seemed to tremble with the phantom sound of some titanic round being chambered.
"To fight the man who nearly killed the Captain… I can't wait."
Buggy didn't react again. He simply took his place beside his past and now present crewmate, staring ahead at nothing as he waited for the titles to be made official. But after a few minutes, he voiced his thoughts.
"All these years, I've tried fending off the storm. I always knew it would come eventually, and I was alright with that so long as it was after my time. But now, I know that was a mistake."
He shook his head, and his eyes darkened as he glowered up at Bullet.
"I should have hoped it would come after you were dead."
Bullet answered his glare with that damn smile as he looked right back. "You're still as funny as ever, Clown."
-o-
"What new endings will this one bring about, I wonder? Heh… I'll be honest with you: I haven't the faintest idea. And for the first time in eons… I can't wait to find out."
-13 Days After the War-
Like many of the most dangerous things in nature, Rusukaina Island was a picturesque place, filled with the natural beauty of being too inhospitable for anyone to begin developing it.
Now, before the sacred tree that invited no harm in its vicinity, "Dark King" Silvers Rayleigh stared at Monkey D. "Straw Hat" Luffy as he laid his duffel bag at the foot of the tree. The silence between them was tense and contemplative. No stomach grumblings or snoring broke it.
"Still thinking, Luffy?" Rayleigh asked at last.
"We need to be able to rely on each other," Luffy answered quietly. "Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Merry, Sanji. Cross, Soundbite, Vivi, Carue, Chopper, Lassoo. Boss, Mikey, Donny, Raphey, Leo, Robin, Conis, Su, Funkfreed, Franky, Brook, Billy, and me. This needs to be the last time we can't handle it, the last time all of us need to spend this much time focusing on improving ourselves. And I know we'll find more friends on the way, maybe even more crewmates. But we need to be ready."
Luffy turned to face Rayleigh. And in that moment, the old man's brows rose as he saw another silhouette over him. One that he knew well.
"Cross said that I only needed a year and a half to get the basics before. So I'm going to use the head start he gave me: I want to know everything you can teach me. And I'll do it by the time two years are up."
"You seem pretty confident."
"Well, sure. After all, this isn't where my story ends. No matter what happens…"
Luffy finally grinned, and Rayleigh swore he saw the shadow of the young man who had convinced him to set out to sea with him so many years ago.
"I'm gonna be King of the Pirates!"
And for only the second time in his life, Rayleigh believed in those words with every fibre of his being.