Chapter 4 Tragedy

The night was calm, a serene stillness blanketing the small village. Isaac lay asleep in his bed, his thoughts of motion and the devil fruit fading into the realm of dreams. The Rikou Rikou no Mi rested securely beneath a loose floorboard, its strange warmth faintly radiating through the wood.

Suddenly, the quiet was shattered by the sound of breaking glass. Isaac's eyes snapped open, his mind instantly alert. Voices—low, angry, and edged with menace—echoed through the house.

He slipped out of bed, careful not to make a sound, and crept to the door. Cracking it open, he peered into the dimly lit main room. What he saw made his breath catch in his throat.

His father was slumped against the wall, blood dripping from his split lip. His mother stood in front of him, arms outstretched as if to shield him. Towering over them was an angry villager, his broad frame blocking most of the light from the flickering oil lamp. Two other villagers flanked him, their weapons glinting in the dim light.

"Don't lie to me!" The man growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I know you've seen it. Someone in this house knows where the fruit is."

"We don't know anything!" Isaac's mother cried, her voice trembling but defiant.

The man sneered, taking a step closer. "You're testing my patience, woman. Do you have any idea how much a Devil Fruit is worth? Do you really think I'd believe you don't know where it is?"

Isaac's father tried to stand, but one of the crew shoved him back down. "Stay down, old man," the thug hissed.

Isaac's hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. His mind raced, thoughts tumbling over one another. They were here for the fruit. Someone must have seen him and Nolan in the grove, and now his family was paying the price.

His heart pounded as he looked back at the loose floorboard in his room. The fruit was there, just within reach. He could give it to them, but the thought of someone evil wielding its power made his stomach churn.

Isaac closed the door quietly and knelt by the floorboard, prying it up with trembling hands. The Rikou Rikou no Mi sat nestled in the cloth, its deep red surface seeming to pulse faintly in the moonlight. He stared at it, his sharp mind dissecting the situation.

He couldn't let that man take the fruit. But what could he do? He was just a boy, and even when he was a man, he had never fought anyone. No weapons, no skills, no power…

His gaze hardened.

No. He did have power. It was right in front of him.

Isaac unwrapped the fruit, its strange texture and warmth sending a shiver down his spine. He knew what would happen if he ate it—he would never be able to enter seawater again, a severe handicap in this world of endless seas. But the alternative was worse.

He lifted the fruit to his lips. The moment his teeth sank into it, a bitter, acrid taste flooded his mouth, so vile it made him gag. He forced himself to swallow, taking another bite before tossing the fruit aside.

Then it passed, leaving him trembling but somehow stronger. He clenched his fists, feeling a subtle connection to the world around him.

A scream from the other room snapped him back to reality. He grabbed three fountain pens from his desk and crept back to the door. Peering through the crack, he saw the man raise his hand to strike his mother.

Isaac stepped into the room, his voice cold and sharp. "Leave her alone."

The villager turned, his sneer widening. "Ah, there's the boy." He let go of Isaac's mother and stepped toward him. "You've got guts, stepping out against me, I'll give you that. But you've got nothing else."

Isaac didn't respond. He held the pens tightly, focusing on them. A faint green glow enveloped the pens, and he felt their weight shift as if they were extensions of his own body.

The man raised his hand to signal his men. "Grab him."

One of the crew lunged at Isaac, but the boy was faster. He held one of the pens up, its green glow flaring. Suddenly, the pen moved faster than the eye could track, slicing through the air and piercing the man's throat.

The thug collapsed, clutching his neck as blood sprayed across the floor.

The lead villager's sneer vanished, replaced by shock and confusion. "What the—?"

Isaac didn't give him time to react. He turned to the second villager and flicked another pen. It struck the man in the chest with such force that it punched clean through him, embedding itself in the wall behind him.

The guy crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

The man took a step back, his hands trembling. "You… you ate it, didn't you? The fruit Elias mentioned…"

Isaac's eyes burned with an intensity that made the man flinch. He reached down, picking up a third pen from the nearby table. "You came into my home," Isaac said, his voice low and steady. "You hurt my family. You made your choice."

The man tried to reach for his a pitchfork dropped by a villager, but Isaac moved faster. He flicked the pen, channeling all his fury into the motion. The pen shot through the air like a bullet, striking the man in the back of the head.

He fell forward, his body hitting the ground with a dull thud.

The room fell silent. Isaac stood there, his chest heaving, his hands still tingling with the strange energy. He looked at the blood-stained floor, then at his mother, who was staring at him in shock.

"Isaac…" she whispered, her voice trembling. "What have you done?"

Isaac looked down at his shaking hands. "What I had to," he said quietly.

Isaac stood in the center of the bloodstained room, the weight of what he had just done settling in his chest. His mother was silent, staring at him with wide eyes, her lips trembling as if she was still processing the events. The once quiet home now felt like a war zone, the walls bearing the marks of violence and fear.

Outside, the sounds of commotion were growing louder. Isaac's sharp ears picked up voices—angry, frantic—and then the distinct clanging of metal, signaling the approach of more people. His heart raced. The villagers were coming.

Within moments, the front door burst open. Villagers, armed with pitchforks and crude weapons, stormed in, eyes wide with shock and fear. Behind them, a small group of Marines, their uniforms crisp and their faces stern, pushed their way into the house.

One of the villagers pointed at Isaac, his voice trembling. "It's him! That boy… he killed them! He killed Bucky and his brothers!"

Isaac's mind spun. He recognised these people, they were his fellow villagers, but their expressions made it clear—they didn't see him as a hero. They didn't care about the circumstances. All they saw was death, and they were terrified.

"Get out of here, you monster!" another villager shouted. "You've brought nothing but destruction to us!"

Isaac's eyes flickered over to his mother, whose face was pale, her hands shaking. She didn't speak, but he saw the hurt in her eyes. Did she blame me too?

The Marines, led by a tall officer with a scar across his cheek, stepped forward. "Step aside," he ordered the villagers, turning his gaze on Isaac. His expression was cold and unfeeling. "The boy is coming with us."

Isaac's pulse quickened. His mind raced for an escape, but he was surrounded. The villagers, still terrified, looked to the Marines for guidance, and Isaac knew there was no way out.

But then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar face. Nolan.

Nolan stood just outside the doorway, his hands held loosely at his sides, his eyes scanning the room. He didn't look angry, as Isaac had feared. Instead, Nolan looked... relieved?

Isaac couldn't understand it. He had just killed several people. His actions had torn apart everything they had built here, yet Nolan didn't show the same fear or disgust that everyone else did. The boy's calm expression spoke volumes, and Isaac felt a pang of confusion and unease.

Nolan's gaze met Isaac's, and he took a slow step forward, not toward the Marines or the villagers, but directly to Isaac.

"Isaac…" Nolan said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "You did what you had to do, didn't you?"

Isaac blinked, his emotions swirling. Did I? He felt the weight of the bodies, the blood, the destruction—was this the price of power? Was this what it meant to have control over forces no one else could understand?

"I—I didn't know what else to do," Isaac muttered, his voice shaky, the guilt washing over him. He looked at the Marines who were beginning to close in on him. "I didn't mean to… to kill them. I—"

Nolan cut him off, his voice still calm and steady. "I know. You're not a killer, Isaac. But there's no going back now."

Isaac glanced up at Nolan, confused. The boy didn't sound angry. He didn't look afraid. Instead, Nolan seemed... understanding.

The Marine officer took another step toward Isaac, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Enough of this," he barked. "Move out of the way, kid."

Nolan didn't budge. He stood between Isaac and the Marines, blocking their path with his slender frame. "No," Nolan said quietly but firmly. "If you take him, you'll have to deal with me first."

The officer raised an eyebrow, not expecting resistance from a child. "Move. Now."

But Nolan didn't falter. "He's not some criminal." He turned to Isaac, his eyes filled with a kind of quiet sympathy. "You don't belong with them, Isaac. You never have. But this isn't the right place for you anymore."

Isaac felt a surge of emotion that he couldn't quite place. Relief, yes—but also something else, something deeper. Nolan's words cut through his confusion, and for a brief moment, Isaac wasn't sure what to say. How could he explain that this world felt so alien to him? How could he explain that, despite all the chaos, all the violence, all the power inside him now, he still felt like he didn't belong?

The officer's hand moved toward his sword, and that's when Nolan stepped forward again. "They'll blame you for this," Nolan said, his voice low, almost like a whisper. "If you stay here, they'll keep coming after you. They'll never stop."

Isaac felt his stomach turn at the thought. He glanced over at his parents, who stood frozen, too afraid to speak. His mother's eyes locked onto his, filled with a silent plea for him to leave, for him to survive.

And then, without another word, Isaac nodded. He turned away from the Marines, from the villagers, and from the life he had known. It wasn't just because of the danger. It was because he knew Nolan was right. He couldn't stay in this village anymore—not after what had happened. He was a danger, and the world didn't have a place for him.

With one final glance at the destruction he had caused, Isaac rushed to Nolan and grabbed him as a soft green glow enveloped them both. They didn't speak as they flew to the other side of the island in what seemed to be seconds, but Isaac felt something shift within him. The weight of his actions, the choices he had made, they would stay with him. But for now, he followed Nolan, trusting that the boy knew more about the world than he did.

…

…

Isaac and Nolan sat in silence within a cave they had found, the fire between them flickering as shadows danced across the stone walls of the cave. The air was cold, and the night had settled in with a heavy, unsettling quiet. Neither of them had spoken much since leaving the village—Isaac, too lost in his thoughts to form words, and Nolan, seemingly content to let the silence hang between them.

Finally, Nolan broke the stillness. He leaned back against the cold stone, his eyes staring into the fire as though searching for something within its flames.

"Earlier today," Nolan said quietly, his voice carrying a hint of sorrow, though it was calm, measured. "You weren't the only one that was attacked." He paused for a moment before continuing. "Bucky… Bucky came to my house, too."

Isaac's gaze snapped to Nolan. He could sense the weight in the boy's words. Nolan's voice was steady, but there was something else there—something that Isaac couldn't quite place.

"He came looking for the fruit," Nolan continued, his voice soft yet bitter. "Just like he came to your place. But when he didn't find it, he... he took something else from me."

Isaac stayed silent, sensing that Nolan wasn't finished.

"My mother…" Nolan's words faltered slightly, but he steadied himself. "She was a doctor. She could heal almost anything—people came from miles away just for her help. She taught me everything I know." He clenched his fists, his expression hardening. "When Bucky couldn't find the fruit, he... he killed her."

Isaac's heart clenched at the words. Nolan's face was unreadable, but Isaac could see the weight of the grief in his eyes. He wanted to say something, anything, to comfort his friend, but there were no words for a loss so deep. Isaac had never experienced anything like that—his parents were still alive, albeit shaken by what had just transpired. But Nolan had lost his entire world, just like that.

"Father was at the market when it happened," Nolan went on, his voice growing quieter. "And I wasn't strong enough to stop him."

Isaac didn't know what to say. But Nolan didn't seem to want comfort. He was just speaking the truth, his grief laced with determination.

Nolan's voice trembled with a mix of anger and sadness. "By the time father got back, she was already gone."

Isaac's mind raced, struggling to process everything Nolan was saying. Bucky had been more than just a threat to Isaac. He had destroyed Nolan's life too. And for what? A fruit that could change everything.

Nolan's gaze shifted back to the fire. "My father was devastated, of course. He will probably never recover. But me…" Nolan's eyes glinted with a hard resolve. "I hereby vow… I will become the greatest doctor in the world. The kind of doctor who can heal anything, anyone. No one should have to lose someone they love because there's no way to save them. I'll find a way to heal wounds no one else can. I'll fix things. I'll undo what Bucky and others like him have taken."

Isaac watched him, his mind spinning. Nolan's words held a raw sincerity, the kind of promise that only someone who had lost so much could make. There was no doubt in Isaac's mind that Nolan would follow through. It was a burning ambition, fueled by the loss of his mother and the injustice of it all.

Isaac felt a flicker of admiration for his friend. He had lost everything but still had the strength to keep going. And Isaac couldn't help but feel a strange kinship with him—both of them had been thrust into this dangerous world, and both of them were carrying the weight of their own burdens.

Isaac leaned back against the cave wall, his thoughts turning inward. He had always believed in the laws of the world, in logic and reason. But this world… this world was a place where emotions, ambition, and power could change everything. He had seen it firsthand. He had seen the destruction people like that brought—and the destruction he himself had caused.

"You're right," Isaac said quietly, his voice steady but carrying a hint of resolve. "No one should have to suffer because of what's beyond their control." He glanced at Nolan. "I'll help you. Whatever it takes. I'll help you become that doctor."

Nolan looked up at him, his eyes softening for the first time since they had met. He smiled, but it wasn't the same kind of smile he had given Isaac earlier. It was a genuine smile, one that reflected trust—a bond forming between them that was solidifying with each passing word.

"We're both outcasts now," Nolan said, his voice full of quiet determination. "But we can carve our own path. Together."

Isaac nodded, a sense of understanding passing between them.

The fire crackled, casting long shadows across the cave. As the night stretched on, the two boys sat together, each lost in their thoughts—but each silently committed to the journey ahead.

Isaac didn't know what the future held for him, but in that moment, he knew one thing for sure: the world was vast and full of possibilities, and he was ready to start creating his own future.