Chapter 17: "The Path of Power"

The moon hung high over Mariejois, casting a pale glow over the city of cruelty and chains. Within the cold stone walls of the slave quarters, William lay awake on his rough bed, his body stiff with exhaustion. His muscles ached from the day's brutal training, but his mind refused to rest. It never did.

The others were fast asleep. Hancock, Sandersonia, and Marigold lay huddled together in the corner of the cell, their bodies pressed close for warmth. William glanced at them, his sharp green eyes reflecting the faint light. Over the months, they had changed—become stronger, more resilient. They no longer cried or flinched when faced with battle. They had learned to survive, just like he had.

But survival wasn't enough for William. He needed more. Power. Strength. Revenge. He had tasted just a fragment of what true strength felt like when he ate the Mythical Zoan Dragon Fruit, but he kept it hidden, pretending it was an ordinary Lizard Zoan. If the Five Elders or the Celestial Dragons discovered the truth, he would be taken away, his life stripped from him before he ever got the chance to reclaim his freedom.

No, the time wasn't right. Not yet. But it would come. William would make sure of it.

Silently, he rose from his bed, careful not to disturb the sleeping sisters. His long sandy blonde hair fell across his face, but he swept it back as he crept toward the narrow window at the back of the cell. The guards were lax tonight. He had memorized their shifts, their movements—everything about this place that could be exploited. Tonight was as good a night as any.

He slipped through the bars with ease, his tall, well-built frame moving with a grace that belied his size. At 1.85 meters, he was an imposing figure for someone his age, his body hardened from years of relentless training and brutal fights in the arena. But now, at 13, he was more than just a slave fighter. He was a weapon in the making, sharpening his skills in secret.

Outside, the cool air greeted him as he made his way to a secluded corner of the arena, hidden from the watchful eyes of the Celestial Dragons and their lackeys. This was where he trained in secret, every night, pushing his body beyond its limits, honing his Haki and mastering his Zoan abilities.

Tonight was no different.

William closed his eyes, steadying his breath. He reached deep within himself, calling on the power of the dragon that slept within his veins. His skin began to tingle, the familiar heat of transformation bubbling just beneath the surface. But he didn't let it fully consume him—just enough to feel the raw strength it granted him. His body shifted slightly, scales forming along his arms, his hands growing claws, but he stopped short of a full transformation.

A sudden pulse of energy rippled from his hands, and William clenched his fists. His Armament Haki, now coated his entire body in a dark, hardened layer. He threw a punch into the air, the force of it causing a gust of wind to whip around him. He could feel it—the raw power coursing through him, growing stronger with each passing day.

But it wasn't just Armament Haki he was training. His Observation Haki had sharpened as well. William could sense movements from miles away, anticipate attacks before they came, and predict the tiniest shifts in the world around him. His mind and body were becoming one, each step taken with precision and purpose.

As he trained, Hancock watched him from the shadows. He felt her presence the moment she came, but he let her watch. She had woken up when he slipped out, curiosity pulling her to follow him. Hidden behind the stone pillars, she observed William in silence, her heart pounding in her chest.

She had seen him fight many times before—brutal, cold, and unforgiving in the arena. But this was different. There was a discipline to his movements, a quiet rage that simmered beneath his calm exterior. William wasn't just training to survive—he was preparing for something much bigger. He wanted power, and he was willing to do anything to obtain it.

Hancock couldn't help but feel a strange sense of admiration. She had feared him at first—his brutality, his strength, the way he never hesitated to kill in the arena. But now, after all these months, she saw him in a new light. He wasn't just a ruthless fighter; he was a boy trapped in the same nightmare as she was. And despite everything, he still fought to rise above it.

As she watched him train, she couldn't help but wonder what drove him. What was it that pushed him to such extremes? She didn't know, but there was something magnetic about his determination—something that made her want to grow stronger too.

After a while, William stopped, sweat dripping down his face. He wiped it away with the back of his hand and turned toward the entrance. His eyes narrowed as he spotted Hancock in the shadows, her figure barely visible in the dim light.

"You've been watching me," he said, his voice low and calm.

Hancock stepped forward, her arms crossed over her chest. "You never stop, do you?" she asked, her tone neutral but curious.

William shrugged, wiping more sweat from his brow. "Stopping means getting weaker. Weakness means death."

Hancock nodded, understanding. It was the same lesson he had drilled into her and her sisters. "But why push yourself this far? You're already the strongest fighter here."

"That's not enough," William said, his green eyes flashing with intensity. "Not for what I need."

Hancock stared at him for a long moment, trying to read the emotion behind his words. But as usual, William's expression was a mask—cold, determined, unreadable. She didn't press him further.

"You should go back," William said, turning his back on her. "Tomorrow's another fight. You need to be rested."

Hancock hesitated, but then nodded, retreating silently back to the quarters where her sisters still slept. As she lay down beside them, her mind lingered on William's words and the look in his eyes. 

In the cold darkness of Mariejois, surrounded by chains and cruelty, a fragile bond was forming between them—a bond forged through blood, pain, and the shared desire for something more. Neither of them knew it yet, but their paths were beginning to intertwine, and the road ahead would be one of power and the pursuit of freedom.