Chapter 7: "Farewell, Ohara"

The sounds of destruction still echoed in William's ears as he stumbled through the burning ruins of Ohara. The fires crackled and roared, and the once-proud island was now a wasteland, engulfed by the might of the Buster Call. Every step felt heavier than the last, his body battered from the explosion that had separated him from Robin.

**Robin...** Her name echoed in his mind. The image of her being pulled away by Olvia and Saul haunted him. He pushed forward, even as his legs threatened to give out beneath him. He had to survive. For her.

Through the smoke and chaos, William's sharp eyes caught a glimpse of movement by the shore. His heart leaped when he saw a small boat, and on it—Robin! She was alone, paddling frantically, trying to escape the inferno that had consumed their home. Relief surged through him.

"Robin!" he tried to shout, but his voice barely rose above a whisper, his throat raw from the smoke. He wanted to run to her, to help her, but something stopped him—a shadow in the sky.

A monstrous figure loomed overhead, a man wreathed in magma and fury. William froze as he watched Vice Admiral Akainu standing aboard a Marine warship, the magma on his fists bubbling and glowing with intense heat. William's blood ran cold as he saw what Akainu was aiming at.

The refugee ship.

"No... no, no, no!" William whispered in horror, his heart pounding as he watched Akainu raise his arm. Time seemed to slow as the magma fist was hurled through the air with terrifying precision. The ship, carrying the innocent survivors of Ohara—scholars, families, children—was engulfed in a cataclysmic explosion of molten rock.

William's legs gave way beneath him, and he collapsed to the ground, eyes wide as he witnessed the carnage. Screams of terror were silenced in an instant as the flames consumed the ship, leaving nothing but burning wreckage and the sickening scent of death in the air.

His mind screamed in outrage, but his body was frozen in shock. He clenched his fists, feeling the raw earth beneath him, his nails digging into the dirt as tears of frustration and helplessness welled in his eyes. 

"Akainu... you monster," he growled under his breath, his voice trembling with barely contained rage.

In the distance, the little boat carrying Robin drifted further and further away from the destruction. She was escaping. She was alive. That thought brought a small measure of comfort, but the bitter truth gnawed at William's heart—he couldn't do anything to help. He wasn't strong enough.

He wasn't strong enough to protect Robin.

He wasn't strong enough to save his home.

He wasn't strong enough to stop the massacre.

**I'm too weak.**

The thought echoed relentlessly in his mind as he looked around, desperately searching for a way off the island. His legs were shaking, and every breath felt like agony, but he had no choice. He had to survive. His gaze settled on a small, battered raft washed up on the shore. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

Dragging himself toward the raft, William's body screamed in protest with every movement, but he bit down on the pain. He couldn't give up now—not after everything.

With trembling hands, he pushed the raft into the water and climbed aboard. His strength was failing, his vision swimming, but he forced himself to row. The oars dug into the water as he paddled away from the inferno, leaving behind the only home he had ever known. 

The sound of explosions still thundered in the distance, and as he drifted further out to sea, William cast one final, pained glance back at Ohara—his island, his friends, his memories—all swallowed by flames and ruin."Farewell, Ohara" he whispered.

He was alone now. Truly alone.

---

Days passed, though William wasn't sure how many. Time blurred together as he drifted aimlessly on the open sea. The raft was little more than planks of wood tied together with rope, and it creaked with every wave. The sun beat down mercilessly during the day, and the nights were bitter cold. He had no food, no water, only the endless expanse of ocean stretching out in every direction.

His body ached, and his muscles screamed for rest, but his mind was haunted by the same recurring thoughts. **I wasn't strong enough.**

The faces of those he had failed flashed before his eyes—Robin, her tear-filled gaze as she was dragged away; the scholars of Ohara, their lives snuffed out by the Buster Call; the refugee ship, consumed by Akainu's molten fist. 

His hands trembled as he gripped the edge of the raft. **I'm weak. I couldn't protect anyone.**

A single tear slipped down his cheek as the weight of his helplessness crashed down upon him. **If only I was stronger... If only I had the power to fight back... to protect them.**

The days drifted on, and William's thoughts spiraled deeper into despair. The ocean was vast, endless, and uncaring, and he was just one small soul adrift in its unforgiving waters.

But even as the loneliness threatened to consume him, there was one small flicker of hope that refused to die out. One name that kept him going. **Robin.**

"I'll find you again, Robin," he whispered to the empty sea. His voice was weak, barely more than a breath, but the resolve behind it was unshakable.

"I don't care how long it takes. I'll become stronger. Strong enough to protect you. Strong enough to never lose anyone ever again."

His body was broken, his spirit battered, but his heart remained stubbornly defiant. No matter how much the world tried to crush him, he would survive. He had to. For her.

And so, William drifted, carried by the ocean's current, his heart burning with a single, unwavering promise:

He would rise from the ashes of Ohara.

And when he did, the world would tremble.