[173] Bound and Unbound
[2440 words]
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[Domain of the Gods, Mariejois]
A reasonably tall, dark-haired young marine stood rather stoically. His young face sharply contrasted with his mature expression, though his heart was shaken at this moment.
Standing at the very center of the world, the most heavily guarded place, swarming with defences and a sea of knights.
The Domain of the Gods!
The young marine stood tall before the Celestial Dragon Gate, which was embedded with priceless jewels. His stance resembled that of a loyal dog—something he truly hated.
One voice in the young marine's mind told him to remain standing as he had for the past five hours, while the other told him to abandon everything and fall back.
The Holy Land's air was fresh beyond belief, and its flora and fauna were world-class. Everything yelled luxury and paradise, but the darkness behind the curtain of divinity was ever-damning.
Five hours of waiting had left this thought in the young man's mind, slowly washing away his sense of respect and loyalty to the World Government…
A picture was created in his mind through his Haki, one of the atmospheres many meters below the surface.
A large open area held up by thick pillars. A vast array of slaves, hundreds of them. With sweat, blood and tears covering their faces, they were forced to heave a giant contraption to create an auto-walk that the Celestial Dragons could choose to use to move about their holy land.
A moment of rest meant a sharp pain in one's back as the guards mercilessly whipped them. Food breaks were awarded for ten minutes in the form of literal slop and dirty water. The bathroom was just a hole in the ground at the corner of the cave, with no privacy whatsoever.
The men pushed the flat escalator while the few women were there to entertain the guards when they so desired.
…
The desperate wails, the resounding screams and the deafening cries of woe all came together to pound the young marine's mind. They were so loud that they began to break apart the mental defences of the young marine, gnawing away at his sanity and leaving him lost.
'We don't deserve this!'
'Someone, please... If you can't save me, just put me out of my misery!'
'I haven't seen my kids since they were born. Will I ever get the chance!?'
The white marine coat that danced in the cool wind was printed with 'JUSTICE' in bold ink. Yet he now stood lost while hearing the miserable cries of the weak endlessly oppressed by the very Justice he swore to uphold.
Then suddenly, the screaming and despair were washed away from the creaking of the titanic gates before him.
The thick doors opened outwards, shining a ray of light to reveal the majestic Pangaea Castle in the distance, blinding the soldier.
*Thump* *Thump* *Thump*
Dozens of men in black walked out, their eyes scanning every meter within their eyesight for possible threats.
They cleared the area and took their position to line up the sides of the path, allowing a giant man to crawl out on his hands and knees. Numb to the world around him, the slave continued his crawl with the explosive around his neck, keeping him in check. After all, a God was riding his back!
The Noble held a chain that clanged on the ground occasionally, slowly pulling a string of three young girls, each moving rather robotically.
.
"Apologies for the short delay," the lead agent concisely informed. "Saint Roswald-sama wished to sleep a little longer."
Naturally, he noticed the broken expression of the young marine and was obliged to warn him in a sharp tone, "You may be one of the Star Rookies of the Navy, but in front of a Saint, you are nothing more than a guard dog."
Roswald, who had begun to put on his helmet before leaving the safety of Mariejois, was even more blunt: "Hmph, I only tolerate you because you are the son of the Marine Hero! He did well protecting us from that evil scum, Rocks; consider it an honour to escort me!"
Naturally, Garp had gone to some lengths to prepare his son:
'Remember, boy. Those freaks up top are as bad and sometimes worse than the pirates out there. But even I can't change that without throwing millions to die in the process of some revolution. Just know this: the Navy is the only thing standing in the way of anarchy. The question is: can you live with that?'
Dragon slowly nodded at the sacred presence before him. Deep down, he knew this was a test from the Five Elders onto Garp, yet it would yield a result the Government would one day regret.
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[A Week Later]
[An Island in the West Blue]
The West Blue was a sea known for its Five Mafia Families, who held an iron-like grip over the proceedings of their waterways.
However, this order was disrupted by a certain young man nearly seven years ago when he killed Gambino Delago and slaughtered his Gambino Family.
The unrest caused all those years ago still plagued the West Blue, the four remaining families clashing head-on often. Yet nowadays, this sea was known for a far grander occasion—where the fateful God Valley Incident took place!
…
A cheerful man casually lay with his head supported by his interlocked hands. He leaned back into his hammock, breathing in the warm air, hearing the birds squawking about.
The afternoon sun was genuinely spectacular, pounding the man's pores with its juicy Vitamin D. The feeling of being reinvigorated by the graceful sun's rays was addictive.
"Oh, it looks like I missed a lot of big news during my little vacation. Wahahaha!"
A few bundles of newspaper lay on the floor, stacked in a pile. The man parsed through a few of them, looking for the most booming headlines.
"Hmm…"
Many different big bundles of news that could shake the world.
The Navy Headquarters' Demilitarization.
The Advent of Justice.
The Great Escape from Hell.
The Levelled Enies Lobby.
The Ten Omens of Disorder.
He read through the headline, and it brought out a wide grin fit for a pirate. "Wahahahaha! That guy really made it out of that hellhole!"
No one would have thought that a boisterous man enjoying his vacation would be a fearsome pirate worth over 4 billion berries! The striking stubble, confident eyes and thrown-aside saber that could cut islands in half—the man was Gol D. Roger!
However, his attention on the papers was stolen by something more mundane.
"Oye, Oye, kid! Don't play with that!"
Roger, an infamous pirate, was completely brought to his knees as he saw a young toddler, barely a year old, playing with an everyday straw hat.
The older man gulped, seeing his prized hat being tussled and thrown around by the child's iron-like grip.
Watching the red-haired child gleefully laugh at the occasion left the pirate apprehensive. "Heh, let's see how my special attack goes…" Roger rummaged through his pocket and grinned, bringing out a giant lobster!
He knew the young devil had a strong inkling of lobster, so he always had some in stock.
The pirate tossed the fresh lobster to the side, drawing the eyes of the child like a magnet. "Ooh, aha!" he laughed.
*Fwooo* The straw hat was thrown away while the toddler rushed toward the seafood, the pirate, to the hat.
"That was a close one…" Roger sighed in relief, squeezing the grip over his prized headwear.
He glared at the giddy child, remembering a conversation:
"You'll be lazy if I don't have you do something. Hmm, I'll let you take care of the lad."
"This little devil, Shanks, why did Rayleigh make me take care of him?" the pirate annoyingly smacked his lips.
Looking away from the toddler, Roger's gaze lingered on the swaying tides, the usual gleam of mischief in his eyes dimming for a moment. The headlines he'd read replayed in his mind, each one a harbinger of the chaos stirring beneath the surface.
"The seas won't stay this calm for long," he muttered to himself. His fingers brushed against the brim of his hat, a symbol of the freedom he'd carved out for himself.
"But freedom always comes at a cost, doesn't it?" His grin returned, sharper this time, as he turned to the child gleefully chasing the lobster. "Let's see if this new era can handle it."
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While peace found itself into even the Mafia-ridden West Blue, there was currently a rather loud Marine Battleship entering it.
The glamorous Marine banner and flag kept away anyone with ill intent, both Marines and pirates alike. What seemed to be a routine patrol was instead used as a transport by a collection of infamous pirates who, together, could send the Navy Headquarters into a frenzy!
Upon the upper decks stood two: a young child and a young man, a tutor and a student.
Their main similarities lay in their choice of weapons: swords.
*Shing!* *Whizz* *Zhaaaa*
Swift and clean strikes done in practice to perfect the sole usage of a sword: to kill. "You've already learned to damage steel at a young age. It is remarkable," the older one stated.
With dark skin, black markings and a razor-sharp sword at his side, naturally, it was the Indra. He calmly watched as the six-year-old lad went through a sequence of slashes and swings, using metal railings and posts to sharpen his attacks.
*Swish* *Zing*
'His talent with the sword is beyond anything I've ever seen,' Indra thought to himself. 'The discipline in his training is not that of a child.'
The appreciative glance of the renowned pirate was warranted as he watched the young boy, Dracule Mihawk, display skill and efficiency that could not be found elsewhere.
…
Directly below the upper deck was a large cabin.
One that was used as a mess hall to feed the thousands of marines that could both live and serve off this vessel.
Yet under the dull light of a few closed windows sat a sole woman, glancing at a snail before her. "How was their response?" the woman questioned. Her voice carried authority as if speaking to a subordinate.
The snail had morphed into the face of a bald man who nowadays was called 'The Voice of the Dead' aka Nekrós, one of the two Hounds of Fulcrum. The man was quick to respond: "Better than expected, Boss! Looks like they realized the true worth of having an Underworld Emperor at their side!"
Aurora pondered for a while, giving time for Nekrós to elaborate further. "The Styx Passage remains supreme. Though there were rumours of the World Government summoning big-name scientists to find a way of mastering the Sea Kings, even sending an invite to Buckingham Stussy."
The bald snail snorted while providing crucial information: "We lost contact with half a dozen Sea Kings last night, only to return to their destination a day late."
Aurora narrowed her eyes, sending a chill down Nekrós' back: "Let me guess, there was no sign of the World Government's tinkering."
Nekrós, noticing his boss' sharp tone, answered immediately, "That's right! But although the Sea Kings were unharmed, they were quite agitated, even destroying a port."
.
Aurora leaned back, staring at the dark ceiling in thought.
'The fall of the Rocks Pirates and disappearance of Roger has left the Underworld as the remaining obstacles to the peace and order the Government seeks,' she thought. 'It won't be long till their snooping turns violent. Especially with the new Chief of Cipher Pol taking up office.'
The girl's amethyst eyes glistened with a sharp light as she weighed her choices. 'I can't go to Damien for every little problem…'
"Nekrós, alert the other Emperors about the Government's actions; the Styx Passage represents not just my interest but theirs as well."
The young woman peered past the darkness of the room, locking with the transponder snail. "Remain wary; if the World Government keeps acting up, then war might come to our shores." A dull face and battle-hardened face came to mind, one of the new CP-Chief. "Kade is a lot more inquisitive than Xerxes ever was."
"Consider it done, Boss!" "Katcha~!"
…
A grand kitchen was revealed as the camera panned to the other side of the deeper layer. Healthy tunes and humming resounded in the area made to serve thousands of soldiers, now run by a sole woman: Toki. The good doctor had dived into Marine Specialties found in various cookbooks. That, along with state-of-the-art kitchen technology, had taken up quite a lot of her time.
…
Beyond the thick walls of the inner cabin area was the primary collection of people. Near the edge was a snoring Solomon and Kuzan. After all, going from the Grand Line to the West Blue came with a somewhat overpowering jet lag.
Working atop one lookout station was Quentin Kraft, the newly reborn shipwright drilling through a few textbooks and diagrams of the shipbuilding technology he had missed in the past twenty or so years of his imprisonment.
…
Closer to the main mast were two men of striking similarities, father and son.
"Ruhahahaha! You're using their battleship to take the express passage," Ares laughed. Yet his eyes gleamed with a rather cunning light as he asked, "So, why bring a dying old man like me to this small sea?"
Ares' laughter echoed across the deck, but Damien caught the faintest tremor in his father's voice.
"You think I haven't noticed?" Damien asked, his tone quieter now, yet no less piercing.
Ares fell silent, the weight of his son's words settling heavily between them. He glanced at Damien's eyes, so like his own, and saw not accusation but understanding.
>=-=----[]---<>---[]---=-=<
[Einar D. Ares]
[Birth: 66 years ago]
[Fate: A legendary pirate, feared by most, forgotten by all.]
[Death: Within a day.]
>=-=----[]---<>---[]---=-=<
"Ruhahahaha! So I guess this is my goodbye present?"
Damien lightly sighed as a complicated expression appeared on his face. Instead of answering, the young pirate suddenly stood up, feeling a distant landmass.
Ares did the same, though with a more surreal look.
The aged man felt his breathing skyrocket as his eyes fell upon the mass of green on the horizon—a rather nostalgic sight, not just for Ares but even for Damien.
"I've spent over half a decade keeping away from this place to keep the chances of it being connected back to me low." A surge of nostalgia struck the younger pirate's eyes, forcing his heartbeat to spike. "I'm finally back home… Renaissance!"
To Be Continued…
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Author's Corner.
More of a transition chapter between key perspectives. What was meant to be used against Garp ended up doing more to Dragon. Meanwhile, a baby Shanks is being brought up by Roger in the West Blue (canonically, Shanks' home sea). Cipher Pol also has a new Chief who is much sharper than Xerxes. However, that won't stop a particular father-son duo from returning home.
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