Uneasy peace

As the day of the execution draws near, the Marine forces on Sabaody are thinned, when they arrived, there were dozens of hundreds of ships patrolling the waterways, now there are less than a hundred. The absence of the main forces of the Marine, along with the fear that looms before every war have their grips tightened around Sabaody. In the main Groves, where the remaining Marine soldiers are based, they're managed to hold on to some sense of order. The same could not be said about the other Groves however.

There have always been skirmishes between the Marine forces and the criminal forces, pirates, slave hunters and otherwise, but never at such a scale. It started in Grove 12, spreading outward until the entire 10-19 Area was taken over and seemingly cut off. Something was stirring up the lawless forces, taking out dozens, sometime hundreds of people at a time, towns and villages put to the torch, with their leaders put to the swords and left behind as grim warnings. There were no survivors after each attack, as if the attackers have came from out of thin air, encircling entire towns and cornered off the populations. Whatever information the Marines have came from those that fled into the other areas, tales of animalistic and metallic shrieks echoing from the burning settlements, of skeletal shadows dancing as towns were razed to the ground. They didn't believe it at first, they didn't want to believe that a horde of mongering animals were stirring up all the troubles. Not until this afternoon.

- Help me you fools! I'm being hunted!

The cry cut through the chaotic and animalistic shrieks of dozens, if not hundreds of whatever it is that's attacking the Marines' final stronghold on Grove 1, where the Human Auction House is. On the other side of the wooden bridge connecting the two Groves, Marine soldiers stand still, guns in hands, ready to fire at whatever comes over the ridge blocking them from seeing the carnage. The screaming of human and the sounds of rapid firearms going off have long died down, what left are the shrieks of animals fighting over the spoils. There is only one scream that is distinctively human, the voice of a World Noble, a Celestial Dragon, Saint Charlos.

- Save me! Come get me you fools!

The obese man in white robe stumbles over the ridge, snots and tears streaming down his cheeks, red and puffing from all the running he's done. His once neatly white robe is now stained with dirt and blood, his hair is a mess, his entourage are missing, his bubble helmet is gone, his oxygen-tank no where to be seen. Did he abandon them? Or did the attackers wrench them off one by one?

- Hold your position. - The Marine commander coldly gives out a command, eyes seething with white-hot rage.

- Sir! That's a Celestial Dragon! - Another one protests.

- Hold. - The commander throws a glare at his subordinate.

- S-sir… - The other one stutters, but does not dare to protest.

- You idiots! - The Celestial Dragon cries out. - You incompetent idiots! I will have your heads! All of you! I! WILL! HAVE! YO…!?

- Going somewhere?

The mischievous voice comes from right below Charlos, as a door hatch busts open from the surface of the tree root. From the corridor inside the root, a small armored hand reached out, black as night, grabbing at the World Noble's ankle, its clawed fingers cut through fabric and flesh like butter. Charlos falls face first onto the moss-covered "ground", just meters away from the bridge, still the soldiers on the other side stand still, not willing to move, some with eyes burning brightly with the fire of hatred. They stand still, even as the small armored frame of a boy, a creature emerges from the hatch, he couldn't have been over sixteen, but what manner of dark powers have cursed him with such deformities is beyond the soldiers' comprehension. A long tail, classed in armor plates as dark as armor that's covering his body, sways from side to side as he sniffs his quarry, raptorial legs encased in razor-sharps clawed sabatons, along with his arms in clawed gauntlets carry him on all fours. The boy suddenly stands upright, one leg stomping down on the World Noble's back, causing him to wail in pain, his pit-black eyes look at the Marines almost inquisitively.

The commander suddenly walks forward a few steps, still locking eyes with the gasping World Noble. He suddenly shoots his eyes upward, into those dark gems of the boy. A heartbeat passes, one that felt like an eternity, an eternity for the marine to contemplating on the things that the Celestial Dragons have done to others, to his wife. Another steps, inches away from the bridge, the marine commander gulps, then whispers, hoping that it'd be enough for the boy, and Charlos to hear:

- Kill that son of a bitch for me.

To his surprise, the boy, the creature smiles at him, a malicious, twisted smile spread across his face, revealing fang-like teeth glistening in day light. The message has been received, the boy drags the still screaming Charlos through the hatch, down the tunnel where he's came from. Automatically, the hatch closed, shutting off the echoing screams of the World Noble, along with the shrieking and firearms going off. There's nothing left, just an eerie silence where once the chaotic sounds of carnage reign supreme, as if whatever it is that have been happening has just stopped, vanished into thin air. Yet despite the seemingly serenity over the ridge, the commander still doesn't order his men to cross the bridge. The silence is no guarantee of safety, it's both a warning not to cross the border, and a promise of peace, no matter how brief and fleeting it is, there will be peace.

- Sir…what do we do now?

The commander narrowed his eyes, looking over the bridge, to the spot where the boy and the World Noble have disappeared into, then with a grim voice, he said:

- We will have peace.

***

The crews of the Moby Dick are still reeling from the red haired man's presence weeks ago, his Emperor's Haki took its tolls on nearly half of them, an overwhelming will that caused them to loose conscious and collapse on where they stand, cracking the frame of their mighty ship, making them doubtful of their resolve in the war to come. Yet it is pale, no, absolutely insignificant compared to whatever it is that's heading their way. The sea itself is churned as the giant vessel of black steel approaches, many times the size of their already gigantic ship, followed by the entourage of several smaller ships, each twice the size of a Marine battleship. There are no sail on those ships, yet they move with speed that seems almost impossible for the beasts their sizes, their hulks decorated with protruding spikes and blades, flying banners that none of the crews, not even the Squad Leaders, has ever seen before.

Flying above them all is a great shadow, a reptilian beast with gleaming golden bat wings, its body classed in dark armors fashioned into the style of the ship. In mere minutes, the vessels have completely surrounded the Moby Dick, chanting could be heard from the decks as soldiers classed in dark armors march into view, wielding masterly crafted weapons, weapons that are undoubtedly superior to what the pirate crews have.

- By the gods… - Marco, the leader of the First Division remarks, eyes dashing from one vessel to another, surveying the now silenced rows upon rows of soldiers standing still like statue.

- Who are they? - A crew member asks in hushed tone. - What are they?

- I don't know, but I don't think they want to fight. - Marco replies. - Not yet anyway.

- They have us completely surrounded. - Jozu crosses his great arms, the leader of the Third Division narrows his eyes as he looks at the shadow slowly descending onto the largest vessel in front of their ship. - Meaning they either want to wipe us out or strong handing us into something.

- It would seem so. - Marco smiles, watching the slender figure, seemingly the leader of the army, hopping off its great flying beast. - Careful, I think they're sending someone or something to hand us their terms.

From the largest vessel flying the black banner with a golden "I" with red crosses extends a great draw bridge, so vast it is that it makes Marco thinks it's enough for at least a dozen elephants to walk across side by side. The leader of the army slowly backs away from view, only to appear moments later on the draw bridge, follow by dozens of soldiers marching in unison behind him.

A gasp escapes Marco's mouth as he realizes what they are, their visitors have the bodies of human, but their legs are those of predatory birds, with a long, reptilian tail trailing behind them. Their entire bodies are classed in black plated armors, save for the three leading members of the group, all their faces are hidden under dark helms, making the pirate crew wonder if they have human features at all.

The leader of the army is young, couldn't be over twenty as Marco has estimated, yet his golden eyes flare with a seniority that rivals even that of their Captain. His armor gleams with runes and scratches, remnants of battles fought in the past, with the skull of a fearsome beast strapped to his right shoulder like a grim trophy. On his right strides a warrior with short, green hair, this one slightly taller, more muscular, at least that's what the leader of the First Division can tell from his bulkier frame and heavy armor decorated with spiked shoulder pads and bladed gauntlets, wielding a double-bladed sword that gives out a greenish glow as sunlight strikes it. The other is a frail man, so sloughed forward that his long hair almost covers his skeletal face, each difficult step makes his body rattle, threatens fall over anytime, has it not for the intricately designed staff supporting his weight. Their entourage is composed of forty soldiers, high ranking elites if Marco's not mistaken, wielding tower shields and simply designed halberds, not unlike their naginata, but straight and forged into the shaped of a short sword tapered into a crude point. The First Division leader chuckles, they don't need to be beautiful, they're only tools for killing. They're meeting with an army of murderers. But…it can't be, Marco thinks, realizing how familiar those faces look, the leading warrior's face is the spitting image of Ace's brother Luffy, save for the golden eyes, the crisscrossing tattoos under his left eye and the lacking, friendly grin that's so clear on the wanted poster. The green haired warrior looks like his crewmate, Zoro, yet he too bears the same crisscrossing tattoo on his left eyebrow, and base on the threatening aura that they emanate, Marco can tell neither he nor his commander have any qualm in cutting down those who stands in their ways.

- I greet you. - The leader of the strange army lifts his arm, his voice was…youthful, yet spoken in the tone of a seasoned veteran. It is oddly calmed, so calm that it's enough to send chills down Marco spines. - My name is Lucious Xol…

- You are not welcomed here! - A pirate shouts, pointing his gun at the young man. - Get lost!

- The next time I am interrupted, - Lucious narrows his golden eyes, unsheathing his rapier, pointing at the pirate, his lips curl back, revealing viciously sharp fangs as he issues a warning. - I will kill one of you.

- We are not afraid of you. - Marco steps forward, crossing his arms in a challenge. - We are not to be threatened.

- Neither are you to be addressed! - Lucious raises his voice, moving his rapier toward the man in opened purple shirt. - You are nothing, vermin, all of you, barely above servitors. Now move aside, I have business with your master.

- If you want to talk with Pop, - Jozu steps up, rubbing his fists together in a threatening gesture as the rest of the crews prepare for a fight. - you will have to go through us, every one of our bloodied corpses.

- I will speak to the master of this ship, even if I have to scream it from here. - The young man snarls, raising his rapier in a bold declaration.

- Conquissiarch. - The green haired warrior next to him calls out. - Lord Inquisitor, must we endure this foolish indignity?

Lucious snorted annoyingly, his golden eyes narrows to mere slits as he contemplates the situation. He's led his vanguards here, riskily exposing the naval fleet that his Inquisitors have been building in secret, away from the prying eyes, just to meet up with this "Whitebeard", one of the Four Emperors of the Sea. A smirk grows on his face as he eyes the "Emperor", some Emperor indeed, holding neither land nor true legitimacy, ruling only a mob of outlaws. And yet, his powers, along with those of his subordinates are formidable, for human, at least.

- No. - The Lord Inquisitor raises his hand, his voice cold and murderous as he issues a single order: - Kill them.

Just as the green haired warrior is about to make his move, a tremor shakes the deck of the Moby Dick, its wooden frame creaks as the giant of a man with a white mustache pointing upward like the great tusks of a proud elephant bull strides toward them. The captain of the Whitebeard Pirates towers over even the tallest warrior of the entourage, his weapon, a great naginata, is so great that a grown man could easily lay stretched out on its blade, and he's using it as a walking stick.

- I wish to speak with the intruders. - The great Whitebeard grumbles, yellowish brown eyes looking down on the young warrior with intrigue. - What do you want from this old man, youngster?

- Whitebeard. - The Inquisitor calls out, his voice cold and calculative, making no effort to hide the fact that he has different agendas in mind. - I've come to propose an alliance.

<coccocgrammar></coccocgrammar>