6 A Dark Covenant

- An alliance? - The giant pirate captain asks, raising one of his eyebrows in an amused manner.

- Yes, a military alliance. - Lucious nods, hand still stretched out toward the giant. - To save your son.

The youngster looks so confidence in his shiny new black plated armor, adorned with gems and runic symbols, with his new powerful army, war gears and body. Yet he's still the same brat, over zealous and boastful in the way that only the youthful could justify. He's still Strawhat Luffy, though what manner of foul sorcery has turned him to this mockery of a human form, Whitebeard does not know.

- You expected me to bow down to you just like that, boy? - The old man asks, smirking distastefully. - Like I am a lapdog that'd bring myself to grovel beneath your feet? Just because you've brought this…ragtag army of yours?

- Lapdog? No. Vassal. - Lucious shakes his head then reaffirms. - I ask for your allegiance to fight with me whenever I call, not your obedience to fight as slaves, we have no need for slaves, slavery is costly and is more troublesome that it worth. You can keep your...domains, but you will give us and our vassals free access through your waters, as long as they promise your people safe conducts.

- And what is your end goal? - The old man narrows his eyes suspiciously at the warrior many times smaller than himself. - What do you hope to achieve in doing all of this?

- Is it obvious? - The black haired man smirks grimly. - I want your entire world.

- You insolent fool! - Whitebeard roars, swinging his naginata sideway, missing Lucious' hair by a nanometer, as the smaller man simply leans forward, nonchalantly avoiding the coming onslaught, his golden eyes never left the old man's gaze, seemingly always three steps ahead of his attacker, as Whitebeard swings wildly. - You think I'd accept such a ridiculous offer?! Who do you think you are?! Who do think I am?! I! Am! WHITEBEARD!

As he roars, Whitebeard brings down his massive naginata onto a seemingly exposed Lucious, savoring the thought of seeing the kid's horrified look in his eyes, while mourning the lost of such a promising youngster. Only…he didn't see despair in the black armored boy. In those shining golden eyes with pupil like those of predatory cats, the pirate captain sees…disappointment. How? How can he afford to feel disappointed when he's being relentlessly attacked like this? Yet against all logic, against all reasoning, the smaller male is, for lack of a better word effortlessly dodging all of his attack, each of his movements is precise, if not graceful, simply getting out of the ways of each vicious blow, not amused in the slightest. Each movement is carefully planned and executed, giving Lucious, as he's now preferred as, the appearance of only narrowly avoiding each of the pirate captain's attack. In truth, Whitebeard and his children fear, this is just a game for him, a menial exercise that takes no more effort than to squat a fly.

No.

It cannot be, Whitebeard thinks as he redoubles his efforts. He cannot lose to this foolish, arrogant upstart, this boastful brat. He is Whitebeard!

- Enough games.

A cold voice rings from just under his nose, as the old captain realizes that Lucious' no longer in his striking range, but rather Whitebeard is in the younger male's. Before he could even react, the old pirate captain feels the force of a small cannon ball collides with his chest in a swift yet brief moment, sending him staggering backward, if not almost flying from his feet. He falls onto one knee, being kept from falling onto all four only by his naginata stamping onto the sturdy wooden deck as hard as rock. The old man feels his warm and bitter lifeblood filling his mouth and dripping from the corner of his lips, down to his chin and falling onto the deck, while holding the bruise made by the boy's vicious blow. There are no broken bones, he didn't need to break bones, Whitebeard thinks, he only needed to make a point. The point being they're outgunned, outnumbered. Outmatched.

- POP! - One of the younger pirates screams, unsheathing his blade and charges at the attacker, not listening to the old man's warning.

- STOP IT YOU FOOL! - Whitebeard cries, hearing the rest of his children preparing to help their comrade.

But it was already too late.

A blur of movements and images, a pale hand moves with blinding speed, clawed but unarmored, straight through the neck of the young pirate, and an arch of crimson fluid splattered on the deck of the Moby Dick, followed by the would-be corpse of a lowly outlaw. To Whitebeard's horror, the pirate, his son, is still alive, writhing on the bloodied wooden deck, half the width of a hair thread from death but still alive. His throat is all but shredded, ripped clean open by five clawed fingers that are now being slowly licked clean of blood, spilling fluid from his death rattles. The boy, Luka, turns his eyes to his captain, his Father, eyes filled with shock, pain and terror, mouth agape but only manages to let out gurgling noises as his lifeblood is being drained. Soon his movements weaken, until he's all but stilled, twitching once, twice, then ceases, the fear and pain frozen in his lifeless eyes.

- Such a waste. - Lucious remarks coldly, finishing licking the blood from his fingers. - He'd have made a fine warrior.

- MURDERER!

Whitebeard roars, bolting toward the smaller male with murderous intents, hands clutching at his naginata so tightly that his knuckles turn white. A bubble forms on the blade of the massive weapon, engulfing it in a condensed shockwave field, readied to be brought down onto the murderer. For a split second, Whitebeard thinks he saw a glimpse of fear in those wide opened eyes of Lucious as he leans back, seemingly surprised by the man's tenacity and strength. But scared or not, the old captain will not let this murder stand.

In mere moments, Whitebeard is upon the smaller man, naginata singing as it cuts through the air, right down onto an almost crouching down Lucious with his arm outstretched. Yet in that moment, a horrifying realization dawns in the pirate captain's mind, despite what his form's suggesting, Lucious isn't cowering, or even trying to dodge the blow, he is anticipating it. What the pirate has seen in those flickering golden eyes wasn't fear, it's not even surprised or shock. It was amusement.

The blade collides with the hand now fully classed in armor plates that have shifted itself like living liquid around its wearer's appendage, metal classes against metal with a booming noise as Whitebeard's devil fruit power came into action. Yet the air doesn't crack like it always does, neither do the armor and limb of the newcomer be cleaved clean off like so many foes were after receiving such a blow. Has his attack been nullified somehow? Is this armor made of seastone? Or is it something else? The old pirate's heart sinks, as horror now spread across his face, seeing that his power wasn't nullified, the air was cracked, but it was so minute that he couldn't see it the first time he looked. Faint cracks slow, then halt to a complete stop, retracting back to the impact point as the air reknits itself, their kinetic energy being drained…into the black haired brat's clawed gauntlet. His attack is being absorbed, and it's about to be unleashed right back at him.

***

The sky has once again been split asunder like when Marco's captain clashed with Shank of the Red Hair Pirates but not quite. This time it is worse. That time the sky has only been split in two, this time…this time both heaven and earth have been shattered. He and the rest of the crews are still trying to maintain balance, the shockwave from Whitebeard's attempt to block that Lucious' attack has somehow reached the ocean floor, creating a minor underwater earthquake and threw the sea above it into absolute chaos. Up above, the sky is full of cracks and rifts, the air has been shattered like glass, distorting sunlight into a maddening display of dancing multi-colored lights.

- Wh-what…what has happened? - Vista, the commander of the 5th Division asks, still too shocked to grasp what has transpired.

- I don't believe it… - Namur of the 8th Division murmurs, his usual grim expression now filled with horror as he looks around.

Half of their crews have been knocked unconscious, the other half is still reeling from the aftershock, the weakest of their numbers are either dead or have their mind completely destroyed, overwhelmed by the physical and psychical tempest unleashed by the two combatants. Yet only one came out unharmed, unfazed from that fight, Lucious is still standing tall and proud, slowly readjusting his lower jaw while still staring at Whitebeard now on one knee, one arm now rendered completely useless, the once proud muscular limb now nothing but a bloodied, mushy lump of flesh and bones being smashed together. It happened too fast, the commander of the 1st Division only managed to get a glimpse of the newcomer's unhinging his lower jaw like a serpent, revealing inhuman fang-like teeth with a forked tongue sticking out from beneath the human tongue, before his view was obstructed by Whitebeard moving in with a left hook bubbled in condensed shockwave. What came next…was a blur, as if his mind, their minds, were shut off for a moment as everything turns to white, followed by an unholy shrill scream and the sound of his captain's fist cracking the air itself shattered whatever grip they have left on reality at that point with a loud booming noise. It took many a minute for the Division commanders to regain full conscious, and many more to clear their head from their blurring vision and ringing in their ears, the rest of their crews…were not so lucky.

Dear gods, Marco thinks, his eyes wide opened in horror, what manner of ungodly…things possesses such power? The moment he saw Lucious dodging every of his captain's attacks, he's realized that something's not right, this is not the Luffy he's seen and read about on the newspaper, the kindhearted, goofy if not naïve younger brother of his friend Ace cannot be this cold, quiet and deformed monster standing on their ship with a massive army of murderers behind him, just to make a point before offering an alliance. And to think that he hasn't even ushered the consequences for refusing their offer yet.

- My offer still stands. - Lucious says casually with his hand reaching for the kneeling old man, as if the ungodly amount of damages he's just caused was nothing to write home about. - Join me and have a better chance of saving your son, join me and your children will rule after you and their children after them. Refuse and condemn your entire domain, your entire family, to an eternity of damnation. The choice is yours.

- Who are you? - Despite his injury, Whitebeard is still oddly calm and quiet, his voice unblemished by neither pain nor fear. - You're not the pirate, Straw Hat Luffy, that much I can tell. But who are you? What are you?

- I know not about this lowly pirate you're preferring to, - Lucious' voice is cold, his tone show no sign of interest or annoyance. - simply know that I am not human. I've lived for centuries uncounted, my kind was ancient before your precious "World Government" was ever conceived, the Empire I hail from has ruled the stars long before your species crawled out of primordial ooze. I am the Talons of my Father the Emperor, I am His Inquisitor, I am the Empire's Spear Tip, and I have come for this world. Look upon me mortals, and despair. Doom has come to your planet.

He doesn't understand what this Lucious has just said, not entirely, Whitebeard doesn't know about this…"Empire", but if what this man saying's true, then these…creatures are beyond his understanding, beyond the understanding of any civilization on this world. If what he's saying is true, then it means that this man, this army, have come from the stars beyond to claim their world for their empire. There is little he could do, Whitebeard realizes as he looks at his all but destroyed arm, there is little anyone of them could do. The old pirate captain sighs, looking at the outstretched hand of the alien invader, a hand that's offering him a path to avoid a tragic fate ahead, but at what cost?

- If…I accept your offer, - The old man says as he slowly standing up with the help of his naginata, blood dripping down from the wounded arm, being kept from bleeding out by his master control over his body and his Haki. - if I join you…becoming your vassal, will you spare my children?

- Old Man! No! - One of the pirates cries, the other unsheathing their weapons, alerting the rows of warriors still lining the decks of the massive ships to draw their arrows, preparing to rain down death upon the outlaws.

- BE QUIET! - Whitebeard roars, stamping his naginata onto the deck to silence the crews, at the same time Lucious raises his hand to signal his warriors to stand down. The pirate captain turns to the newcomer. - Answer my question, and I'll give you my answer.

- Join me and rule like the emperor that you claim you are. - Lucious smirks, standing aside to gesture toward the ship's hulk slowly widening to allow a monstrous creature to come out. - Refuse and suffer a fate like his or worse.

The pirate crew can smell its bloody stench before they can hear its painful moaning, and they hears that horrid noises before they can see the thing's form slowly clawing out of the hulk. Incased from neck down in a crudely forged exoskeleton that seems like it's fused to its flesh and skin than bolted on, the creature the size of a giant scuttles into view on dozen of robotic yet somehow fleshy legs spouting from what should have been the lower half of a giant, dragging the flailing biomechanical tentacles behind. One of the creature's arm is a stitched up, mutilated remain of a normal arm, spikes sprout from the mutated limb, leaving gaping gashes that reveal pulsating muscles and mechanical parts implanted just below the skin, the whole thing tapering to a large, metallic gauntlet that houses a mired of folding blades and retractable drills acting as "fingers". The other "arm", or what remains of it, is nothing but a cluster of fleshy mechanical tentacles writhing blindly, each either tipped with a small hooked blade or with venomous barbs.

Only one feature of the creature that can be vaguely called "human", the head of a giant, but with crazed, twitching eyes constantly oozing sludge as if its very bodily functions cause it unbearable, maddening pains. Its lower jaw is missing, removed to give space for the long, bloated tongue as long as the tentacles, with pulsating muscular "teeth" pointing inward, acting like a treadmill to drag whatever unlucky enough to be caught by it toward its maw. From its sloughing, armored back, sprouted dozens of spikes and clear canisters half filled with a sluggish red liquid, piercing through the tattered remain of a vice admiral robe, the mutilated remains of a marine division hung on the spikes, impaled and left to rot, acting as a warning. The whole profane sight is so grotesque, so abhorrently disgusting that some of the newer members of the Whitebeard's crews throw themselves overboard, or simply ending their own lives with their weapons, while a few of the more senior crew members bend over to vomit from horror and disgust.

- Beautiful, is he not? - Lucious smirks, caressing the smooth part of the creature's tongue as one would caress a house cat. - Our Biomancer Apothecaries have never been allowed to express their…creativities on such a large specimen successfully, few planets can support such large bio form, you see.

- What…is this? - Whitebeard is too shocked to think of anything else, already he can feel his guts churning in disgust and horror.

- My inquisitors from West Blue caught him and his crew a few days after our arrival. - Lucious explains. - "John the Giant" I believe was his name.

- John Giant… - Whitebeard murmurs, the realization that they've captured and mutated a giant vice admiral so easily fills him with dread.

- Yes, that. - Lucious nods and crosses his arms in pride. - Originally I've intended for him to keep some of his mental functions, but the biotransference process and the pains have…unfortunately damaged his psyche too much.

The old pirate captain looks on in disgust and horror, both angered and fearful by the nonchalance of Lucious' tone when talking about his horrible deeds with such gleefulness. The prospect is unthinkable, incomprehensible for Whitebeard, not even the World Nobles would do such thing. Or would they? The old captain contemplates the situation, although he cannot bring himself to understand the thoughts of these…people, in doing such things, he can understand their motives. There's a war over yonder, and they need weapons, powerful ones at that, not specifically to win the war, they only need to make a point, war brings out the worse of all things, perhaps this is one such case. Unlike the Celestial Dragons, whose cruelty knows no bound and no reasoning or logic could excuse their actions. Lucious and his people can be brutal, but compared to the total disgusting reign of these "Gods", they're simply a lesser of the two evils.

- If I join you. - Whitebeard repeats his statement earlier. - You will spare my children of the fate of those who opposes you.

- Should you and your crews survive the war to come, - Lucious turns to face the captain. - I will personally see to it that they and their family have the best life a mortal could hope for.

- Is that true? - The pirate narrows his yellow eyes.

- You have my words. - Lucious smiles, reaching out his hand again. - So, do we have an arrangement?

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