THE INVENTOR’S LAIR (IS AN ORGANIZED MESS)

"The engines need three minutes to warm up! Ignore the alarm and don't touch anything!" Echo yelled over the shrill of said alarm. "I'm going to change!"

Tremors ran rampage through his nervous system as a pair of imaginary cogwheels ground his throbbing head into a pulp. His body begged for rest, but as was all too often the case, he ignored it.

In the couple of steps it took to reach his quarters, the Diving swan's discontent shriek had eased and, despite the aging thin cane's hissy fit, the engines were soon vibrating underneath his aching feet.

Entering his closet-sized bedroom, Echo made a beeline for his nightstand and foraged through its large wooden drawer. He tore through the cabinet, carelessly throwing out his old sketchbooks, colorful pile of candy wraps, broken pencils, and that stupid screwdriver he'd been searching for all week until the dispersed mess revealed a sleek black case. He lifted the lead, the old wooden casing whining at the reveal of a large syringe and nauseatingly thick needle. A gooey green substance laid cradled between clear glass walls, its fluorescent color anything but reassuring, yet it was this very concoction that was about to revitalize him for the hour to come and have him beg for dead by the next.

Without a flicker of hesitation, Echo jabbed the needle into his arm and forced the dangerous mixture into his bloodstream.

A jolt akin to an electric current burst through his frayed nerves. The warmth of a loving embrace heated his chilled skin and brought much needed color back to his face while his once cramped muscles regained their vigor. Pain, exhaustion and anxiety led way to ethereal clarity. A myriad of micro-explosions dissipated the clouds of stress and fatigue from his fractured mind to reveal a world beyond human experience. Abruptly, he became aware of the infinite particles floating in the air; he could hear a lost ant's rattle on the ground while unknown smells tickled his awareness. It was an explosion of sensations, the vivid colors of the world so bright they threatened to scorch his undeserving eyes. Sounds beyond human comprehension assaulted his eardrums, the beauty of which erased up to his name. He was floating like a feather lost mid-flight.

Until he wasn't.

Echo took in big lungfuls as his mind crashed from its fleeting high. His heart beat faster than a thunderbird's majestic wings, its frenetic rhythm speeding the propagation of the drug through his re-energized body until it eased back to a steady rhythm.

He straightened and reached inside his closet to trade his over-sized cloths for a pair of reinforced pants and long-sleeved t-shirt. As he rummaged through the bottom drawers, he was pleased to find a complete set of taser disks which he clipped onto his bracelet before he grabbed a hold of his goggles. Then and with some effort, he rifled through his muddled memories and estimated that he had just enough powder left inside his gloves' pods for one or two sleep-inducing swipes.

Echo tsked. He'd been wasteful; unfortunately, a refill would take too long.

A roaring beep tore down the hallway. The swan was ready.

*

He re-entered the control room to a display of ill-concealed weariness. From the tight press of his guests' lips to their stiff shoulders, tension bled through every fiber of the revolutionaries' bodies.

Hawk-like eyes tracked his progress, the weight of which conjured cold droplets on his forehead. And yet, despite his better instincts, Echo headed for the control board and set the sub in motion.

Had they discovered his identity? He'd only been gone for three minutes, and nothing on the Diving swan betrayed his demonic origins... Did he? Had he, in his frenzy, said something incriminating?

He gulped.

Calm down.

His priority was Cleo; So long as she was safe, he cared little for his own fate. Yes, so long as they saved her first then—

"So, is this a bomb?"

Echo snapped his head to where Sabo was looming over the circular device that laid amidst a sea of unfinished toys and gadgets he'd hoped to sell on their next halt.

"... Technically?"

No help of his resting haki was needed to know the revolutionaries' unease had doubled, and, considering his earlier behavior...

They must take me for a lunatic.

Which, fair. But the fact they'd still decided to embark with him had him question their own sanity. If anything, it put Koala's earlier reticence in perspective.

Speaking of, the petite revolutionary was glaring daggers at her partner's unsuspecting back. Her big blue eyes wavered with concern, the sight of which ignited a spark of compassion in Echo's chest, and before he could second-guess his impulse, he said, "It's an EMP devise that uses explosively pumped flux compression—" Or that's the idea... "—It's technically a bomb, yes, but that's not what its built for. Plus, I live with a kid who believes the words 'don't touch' are an invitation to the contrary so you can prod at it all you want, it won't set off... Not that that's an invitation."

"Another time then," Sabo said with a glint of madness in his eyes. "Alright, let's hear it."

The yellow fishman—Hack, was it?—cleared his throat. "As I told you yesterday, Diamond End's topography makes it tough to reach. The only hospitable part of the island is a small beach accessible only by the Crescent archipelago's shared waters. As for the island itself, it seems to rely entirely on Silver guard's traffic control... But this is a noble's private island, so I'd be surprised if there weren't some traps around..."

While Hack continued to share his observations, Echo led them through the slim stretch of water running between Golden Bay and Diamond End's apexes.

"There's one small problem still," the fishman said as they neared the island. "There's nowhere to dock. Nowhere discreet that is..."

"Yes," Koala said, "One of us will have to keep the sub under and away from the coast while the others infiltrate the island."

Echo's grip tightened on the helm. If they thought for even one second that he was going to obediently stay back and trust them to retrieve his daughter, they'd have another thing coming. He wasn't their freaking chauffeur! Echo gritted his teeth and prepared himself to tell them exactly where they could shove their fucking expectations, when Arabèl spoke up.

"And that's where I come in," she said with a flash of her sharp, sharp teeth. "Don't you worry about nothing, darling. I'll take good care of your ship."

... He was worried about loads, but ignored it for now as he peering through the safe curtain of his bangs and gestured in invitation. Arabèl took the offered seat, and Echo mumbled an overview of the subs old fashioned controls.

"... Plus there's only one torpedo left and the guidance system is toast," he ended with a wince.

"Reminds me of my first ship," the imposing fishwoman said with a carefree bark of a laugh that soon melted into a knowing smile. "I didn't want to let it go either..."

Arabèl stretched her thick arms up, wide palms brushing the low ceiling even as a shameless groan fell from her translucent lips. Her flimsy tank top rose with the motion, revealing her defined abs and the large and unmistakable burn riding down her side.

It was a sun. A beautiful bumpy sun that may or may not cover the truth of an ugly past.

An uncontrollable shiver ran up Echo's spine even as repressed memories rose to the surface. Shizo's slave mark had been there too, as had his mother's and all of the Albrecht family's slaves.

Did Arabèl...?

Echo pushed the thought down the gaping abyss of guilt and shame festering up his brain. The ghosts of the past could wait. Not Cleo.

"You're looking suspiciously better," Koala said, pulling his attention back to the spot Arabèl had apparently vacated. (Now when the heck did that happen? Fuck, observation haki or not, he needed to up his game). "So… Are you sure you're up for this?"

"I am. I'm feeling much better."

"If you say so... Alright, then here's the plan: all four of us are going in together. I've had a peek at the mansion's layout, so I'll take the lead. We'll enter through an emergency exit before we split up. Hack and Sabo will track the devil fruit user while you and I search for the prisoners. And before you ask, I will be in charge of our little duo, meaning no wild initiatives and no running off, got it?" she asked in a sad impression of a threat. "If you pull a Sabo on me, you're on your own."

Echo didn't know what 'pulling a Sabo' meant, but his fleeting encounters with the blond offered an avenue of inspiration.

"My priority is to find my daughter. So long as you don't get in the way, I'll follow your orders."

A sigh. "Good enough," Koala said with the first hint of a real smile that stretched into a pleasant grin when she looked past Echo.

"We'll be at the drop in two minutes," Hack said.

Echo's grip reflexively tightened on the wheel, and only after a deep exhale did he uncurled his digits and hand the controls over to the mountain of a fishwoman.

I'm coming, princess.

"Wait! You wouldn't happen to have a pipe lying around, would you?" Sabo asked before he could exit the control room.

"… What?"

"A long metal pipe. For fighting," Sabo clarified.

"Um, like a staff?"

"A pipe like a pipe, but a staff will do."

Echo hesitantly pointed at the steel cabinet holding his and Cleo's training gear. "Help yourself."