FicWad

'So. They're all here?'

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'Yes, Sir Crocodile. The Straw Hats and the princess have finally arrived. I watched them enter the palace myself.'

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'Excellent. Everything is proceeding according to my plan.'

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'Including the loss of so many of the blessed?'

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'You and your cultists. I still don't understand why you're attached to them. You can always make plague victims.'

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'Unfortunately, Sir Crocodile, while the plague may provide many blessings, the ability to grow on trees is not one of them.'



A low growl echoes through the dark, musty tomb.

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'Enough with the snark.'

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The shadows themselves dance across the walls as the lantern's flame flickers.

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'Pawns are made to be sacrificed, not coddled. Unless you want Operation Utopia to fail?'

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'...well, they are creating beautiful carnage. It would be rude to stop them when they're so determined.'

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A dark chuckle fills the tomb.

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'Now I remember why I chose you to help me claim this nation. It's rare to meet someone as sick as you, Nico Robin.'

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'Do you mean literally, as in I'm blessed by the plague, or figuratively, as in I'm mentally unwell?'

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'Both.'

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Now it's Robin's turn to laugh. 'Have you looked in a mirror lately, Sir Crocodile?'

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A golden claw smashes into a pillar near Robin's head. The daughter of the plague doesn't flinch as the warlord of the sea leans towards her.

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His twisted features are outlined by the faint illumination of the pewter lamp hanging from the ceiling. A tall, thin man with skin the color of sour milk stands before her, his tumor-speckled face wearing an angry scowl. He wears an orange button-up vest, black striped pants, and a dark, pelted fur coat over his shoulders. A massive spiked hook has replaced his left hand, its golden body covered in bile that leaks from the tumors around his wrist. Wild black hair is slicked back with grease that drips down and stains his suit. His most distinctive feature, though, is a jagged scar that drips black fluid, dividing his face into upper and lower halves.

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'Say that again, Nico Robin.' He wraps the curve of the hook around her neck.

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'I meant it as a compliment, Sir Crocodile.' Robin offers a curt bow. 'I am sorry if I offended you.'

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For a moment, the tomb is still.

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Both fighters stare at each other, daring the other to make a move.

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Crocodile smirks, withdrawing his weapon. 'And that is the second reason why I chose you as my second in command. You don't fear death.'

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Robin offers a small curtsey; her simply black leotard, skirt, and long-sleeved shirt blend into the shadows. 'The Second Principle: after breaking down, all things eventually die, ceasing to exist in their original form. Death comes to us all in time.'

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'Keep your religion to yourself, Robin. You will have plenty of time for preaching to the masses once we take over this land.' He breathes out. 'What about Strawhat Luffy and his peons?'

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Robin leans against a barren pillar, examining her four sets of fingernails. 'He's headed to the east gate with the mad doctor's patchwork monster. However, I fail to see why you're so obsessed with him. He seems to be an idiot with no chance of figuring out our plan.'

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Crocodile snears. 'In case you hadn't noticed, he was able to stop the bomb from going off in the palace and crushing the Rainbow City. That idiot is the greatest threat to our plans; if we are to succeed, he must be disposed of.'

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'Well, Mr Three is leading the assault where he's headed. So it looks like he'll get the chance to make up for the loss of his little side project.'

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'He had better.' A cruel look fills Crocodile's eyes. 'I only spared him this time since his power is useful to me. If he fails again, I'll make sure he lives to regret it.'

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'...this time?'

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The warlord turns to the daughter of the plague; his face is an angry grimace. 'A... misspoken word. What is Mr Two's status? Is he good?'



Robin places her hands behind her head. 'Good? After his masterful performance, I'm tempted to give him a Cindy for best acting in a newscast.'

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Crocodile rolls his eyes. This woman and her drama. 'I meant, is he at the safehouse overseeing Dr Kureha?'

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Robin nods. 'He is, along with the sevens. Though now that the good doctor's work is almost complete, she is being a great deal more... defiant.'

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'Whether she resists or not makes no difference. She needs to put the finishing touches on the injector if we are to succeed in creating our Utopia.' Crocodile says. 'And for that Mr Two needs to do one last task and bring me the final piece of my plan. Have you located the monster?'

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The plague maiden closes her eyes. 'He's moving toward the West gate along with the navigator.'

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Crocodile opens his mouth in a cruel smile, showing off a set of broken, rotten teeth. 'Good. Go with Mr Two, recover it Alive. Uninjured if possible.'

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She bows. 'As you command, Sir Crocodile.'

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'And when you have it, dispose of Mr Two.'

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Robin hesitates for a moment. '... and may I ask why?'

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'Because I said so.'

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'If I may remind you, Sir Crocodile, his power is useful.' Robin crosses her arms. 'And I happen to like him.'

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'Consider it... a test of your loyalty.' Crocodile licks his lips and walks towards a long flight of stairs leading upwards. 'Just make sure to drop the beast off with the sixes when you're done with him.'

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'Oh?' Robin watches as the warlord activates his power and turns to a cloud of sand. 'And where is our king piece moving to?'

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The sand-man flashes his claw. 'Simple, I have a troublesome piece to remove from the board. You know what they say, if you want a job done right...'

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Leaving the words hanging, Crocodile disappears, his sandy body flying the stone stairwell upward towards the surface.

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Robin savors her solitude for a moment, ensuring she is truly alone before looking around at the Tomb of the Kings. Despite currently residing in the beating heart of the kingdom of Alabasta and an ideal location for their operation, the Plague Maiden had to admit that the decor left a great deal to be desired. Rubble, piles of sand, closed-off passages, defiled hieroglyphics, and, of course, all-consuming darkness were her only company. The only light came from a rickety oil lamp fastened haphazardly to the ceiling.

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She sighs, looking at the shadows around her and thinking of the history lost on these walls. Scraps of information left to rot by a careless monarch. How could Nefitari Cobra permit their cherished history to be so defiled by the passage of time? She runs her blackened hand over the sand-worn words, trying to feel for legible print she could decipher. What had led an admittedly kind king to vandalize his own past?

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She removes her hand and clenches her fist.



In the end, though, it doesn't matter. What is done is done. The first thing she'd have to do once this country became a haven for the infected (and after she found the Ponegliph telling her Pluton's location, of course) was lead a genuine archeological expedition to these tombs. Who knew what lost secrets these damaged passages contained?

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...........

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'Reinforcements! Eastern Stairway here! We're being driven back! I repeat! We are being dri-'

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A communication officer has his head bashed in by an infected woman wielding a white hammer. Her bulbous body is covered in a pale, waxy armor that obscures her rotund frame.

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'Bastard!' A nearby guard swings his polearm with all his might towards the woman, only for his weapon to barely chip the substance.

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'Kill... COBRA!' The woman with tumors for eyes swings her massive hammer at him.

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Only for the hammer to be parried by a blonde soldier in royal armor. With a skilled backswing, he cuts clean through the woman's exposed head, killing her instantly.



The corpse falls over, and the third member of the kicking claw force shakes the gore from his two polearms. 'Are you all right, soldier?'

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'Commander Brahm!' The indistinct man salutes. 'You've arrived!'

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The man nods, his headrest of a Duck on his head marking him as an elite soldier. With eyes covered by black cloth looks towards the cusp of the stairway leading into the city and finds a battlefield.

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The eastern stairway is a waterfall of blood, sick and trampled corpses. The vaunted eastern gate at the bottom is a smoking crater rapidly filling with the blood of his men and the mob that is currently charging up towards them. Yet the gruesome sight of tainted blood flowing down the flights of slick stone stairs or the ten-story climb has not discouraged the attacking mutants in the slightest. Driven by rage and betrayal, they climb the stairs, killing anything in their way with hand, tooth, and strange chalk-white weapons.

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The soldiers of Alabasta fight desperately to keep the enraged and insane from pouring into the city. Spear and gun clash against hammers swung by the horde of wax-armored mutants. Screams for Cobra’s blood mix with shouts for Alabasta’s continued survival. But despite the guard’s battle-tested resolve, they are rapidly driven back up the stairs. The infected's greater resilience and armored bodies make them all but immune to direct attacks from the soldiers’ weapons. Every guard that is felled dies with a scream before tumbling down the stairs and being trampled under the horde. Yet the guards fight back, attempting to deny the mutants access to the city and its inhabitants. Regardless of the odds against them, they resist to their dying breaths.

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The soldiers following behind Brahm catch up. 'Commander Brahm? Your orders?'

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'Aim for the weak points in their armor. It's weakest under the armpits and near the nape of the neck.' He assesses his foes instantly. 'Hold them back long enough for the civilians to escape, then manage a fighting retreat. The infected will tire themselves out for our counterattack.'

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'Yes, sir!' The soldiers shout as one, drawing their halberds and leaping to reinforce their brethren.

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Bolstered by the reinforcements, the guards at the gate rally, shouting, slashing, and striking with a renewed frenzy.

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A frenzy that lasts until they get a look at the new soldiers entering the fray.

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At the bottom of the staircase, wading through the blood-filled crater are white-garbed golems, each one three times the height of a normal man. Unlike the shoddily armored vanguard assaulting them now, these advancing soldiers have no weak points. Their white mail is a work of art; images of human faces in agony are molded into the wax of each plate, making the creatures look all the more monstrous. And most terrifying of all is the infected pus dripping from microscopic holes in the armor’s eyes, making it look like the wax itself is weeping.

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'Oh Ho Ho Ho Ho Ho!!'

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And then there's the laughter echoing up the valley walls. Some naisily voice at the bottom is perched on top of an ornate war chariot, shouting something over a giant wax megaphone. Announcing something Brahm can neither hear over the clamor of battle or cares to know.

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He assesses his options. The man in the chariot is obviously the Devil Fruit user. If he kills him, the wax should fade away like most Devil Fruit powers do when their user dies. But how to get to him?

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Jump from the battlements? No. Not only would that kill him, but if he missed, which was likely as he had no way to control his fall, his suicide attack would fail. If Guard Captain Pell were here, perhaps, but last he heard, he was escorting important guests to the palace.

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Attack from range? Unfortunately, thanks to Chaka's "brilliant" decision- a decision which he suspected after the broadcast was the work of an imposter- they were out of ammo for anything heavier than a portable bazooka. The wax armor and carriage the Devil Fruit user surrounded himself with would deflect anything smaller.

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Close the distance? There is an army between them.

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A soldier is smashed into the air as the armored beasts reach his lines.



A very strong army of well-armed, very angry people infected by the plague.

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Breaking through so many people determined to kill them would take a miracle or an act of the go-

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'GOOMMMU NOOOOOO...'

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Brahm turns around just in time to see an utterly bewildering sight. A strange, red-vested man and his mount are barreling towards the fray. Riding on the back of a large furry beast the size of three camels, the young man soars past him, an elongated pair of arms suspended in the air behind him. His guards throw themselves out of the way as the most unexpected pair of reinforcements joins them.

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'What? Who-' He tires, asking whichever gods are currently listening.

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The beast leaps over his lines of demoralized guards in front of him straight towards an advancing armored giant.

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'BAZOOKA!!'

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The man's armored hands snap forward like a rocket and hit the advancing pile of tumors in the chest with the force of a hurricane. The iron-hard wax disintegrates from the singular attack, and its entire chest caves in before the creature rolls down the stairs, crushing everything in its path.

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Both sides gape at the unbelievable sight as the bison lands in the middle of the battlefield. For a few seconds, all thoughts of combat are forgotten as both sides wonder who this complete lunatic of a man is.

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And over the silence, an annoying voice makes itself known.

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'STTTTTRRRAAAAWWW HAAAAATTTT!?!' The man on the chariot screams in naked rage. Even from this distance, Brahm can see him seethe, his face turning purple as he yells curses through his megaphone.

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Curses the new arrival is ignoring.

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'Great job, Nojiko!' Luffy jumps off his mount that transforms into a blue-haired female. 'We got here in no time at all!'

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'It easy.' The woman draws a long shovel-spade from a holster on her back. 'Just follow the blood smell.'

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'Well, we're here.' The man raises his hand over his eyes, his head craning around. 'Now where's the boss guy?'

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The woman by his side stretches. 'Boss?'

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'Yeah, Nojiko! The boss!' He looks to her. 'There gotta be a boss leading these guys so we beat him and all these other guys...'

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'PAY ATTENTION TO MEEEEEE!!!'

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'Huh?' The man turns to look down the hill. '...HEY! IT'S UGLY WAX GUY!''

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'UGLY!?! I'm only ugly because I barely survived your wench of a princess' cowardly attack!! I had to staunch my bleeding with my magnificent powers and roll in a wax ball...'

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Luffy ignores the rest of his rant. 'He's the boss we've gotta beat! Come on, Nojiko!'

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'K.'

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'STOP IGNORING ME!! Kill him!' Mr Three howls through the megaphone. 'He's a friend of Cobra! Kill him now!'

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With one final curse directed at him, Monkey D. Luffy, future king of the pirates, and Nojiko Belimere enter the fray against a literal army of well-armed infected.



And despite all his senses reeling in disbelief, the most unbelievable thing Brahm is currently wrestling with is the fact that he is feeling sorry for the hordes of infected attacking the capital. Because for the life of him he couldn’t possibly imagine any of them facing a more intimidating foe than the one currently facing them now.

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...........

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'One hundred eighty-four.'

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'One hundred eighty-six.'

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'One hundred ninety.'

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'One hundred ninety-three.'

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'...two hundred.'

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A feeling of pride and accomplishment washes over Zoro as he kills his two hundredth foe.

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'Two hundred and eight.'

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This is far better than touring some musty palace.

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'Two hundred and sixteen.'

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He had to hand it to these infected soldiers, though.

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'Two hundred and twenty.'

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It took a lot of courage to crawl over a mountain of corpses just to die screaming in pain.

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'Kill him! He's protecting Cob-'

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Zoro swings his sword in an arc, and a trio of blade-wielding members of Baroque Works is cut in half at the waist. Gore and pieces of intestine splatter over the sides of walls and fall on top of the five-foot-high pile of corpses surrounding him.

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'Two hundred... and twenty-three.' He pants.

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There's literally no end to these guys. You'd think they would know better than to approach the blood-caked swordsman surrounded by the bodies of their friends.

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A duo of men tries to crawl past him while disguised as dead bodies, only to get stabbed in the back.

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'Two hundred and twenty-five.' Seriously, did those idiots think he wouldn’t notice some of the dead bodies moving? Were they that desperate to try and get through the gate?



Or what was left of it?



Zoro glances at the blasted open stone portal. Twisted wire and metal clasps hang from the sides of the stone wall, the only visible evidence of the gate his crew had entered through an hour before. The rest of the rubble was unfortunately obscured by the hundreds of butchered humans half filling the entrance.



Then again, he was currently standing behind their only way into the city. If they wanted in, they'd have to come through the battered open gate and get past him.

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Trying to scale the walls was even more suicidal.

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'Rapid-fire Gunpowder Stars!'

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A barrage of explosive bullets rains down on the charging crowd, blowing off limbs and sending shrapnel of bone cutting through the remaining survivors attempting to bum rush the fortifications.

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A volley of rifle bullets claims another hundred or so infected attempting to scale the South Gate Wall with their bare hands.



'Pick your targets!' Arrow of the Kicking Claw force cuts down a bloated man attempting to scale the wall by crawling on top of his allies. 'Drive them back! Sniper?!'

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Usopp salutes; the cannons sprouting from his back wiggle as he tries to stand straight. 'Y-Yes, sir, Boss Arrow?'

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'Focus on the crowds near the wall! Put those explosives you ate to good use!' He impales another infected woman, her body fused to a giant pot. 'And stay away from my men! The last thing I want is for them to mistake you for a foe!'

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'Right!' Usopp turns, his stomach churning as he converts the hundreds of shells he "accidentally" ate into new ammunition to rain down on the attacking army.

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'All right, try this!' He points the cannons on his back downwards. 'Rapid-fire gunpowder stars Mark two!' He discharges a volley of shells, blowing the hordes attempting to scale each other to a red mist. Gore and bits of corpses fly into the air, coating the survivors below in a black rain of infected bile.

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For the agents of Baroque Works leading the charge, the battle for the South Gate had turned from a sudden lightning assault into a grinding siege. Without the gate’s promised destruction at the hands of their infiltrators, the infected soldiers’ entry into the city had been stymied. Now the infected, spurred on by the agents’ threats/hateful rhetoric, were assaulting the fortress walls like a mob. They climbed over each other, threw grappling hooks, and ran through the open gate blown off its hinges by traitorous guards. Yet, the guards of Alabasta were crack soldiers hardened by years of civil war, and every one that fell meant a hundred of the infected rabble would join them in death. Still, their numbers were infinite, and even Zoro, as mighty as he was, started to slow as exhaustion took hold.

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A grappling hook hits a soldier on the wall, dragging him over the side with a horrific scream. The bleating crowd tears him to pieces with their bare hands.

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'Kill them!' A Baroque Works agent screams over the sounds of battle. A moldy cape with his organization emblem fused to his tumor-covered back. 'Remember what Cobra did to you! You'll never be safe until his head-'

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A bullet finds his eye, splattering brain matter over the agent behind him. The female agent wearing a mask over half her face takes his place. '-Is on a pike! Kill the guards who murdered your children! They are just as guilty!'

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Arrow's thrown javelin finds its mark in her throat, sending her to the ground, bleeding out.

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The crowd tramples her to paste in seconds; their screams of bestial rage are barely human.

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'Hold fast, men!' Arrow brandishes his blade. 'Pell knows we're here! Reinforcements will arrive-'

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Arrow, fourth in command of the Kicking Claw force, loses his head.



Literally.

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Before he even realizes it, one of the top five strongest men in the kingdom is split into three pieces, his lifeless body falling over the edge of the battlements along with his severed dome.



The kill was so clean and swift that the nearby guards didn’t even have time to react as their commander’s blood covered their bodies.

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The nearest guard turns his gun towards the shadow that landed behind his commanding officer. 'W-What!? Wh-'



His body is diced into cube-sized clumps. Bloody pieces of meat, shredded cloth, and shattered pieces of metal all land in a disorganized pile on the battlements.

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A guard turns towards where their commander once stood. 'O-One of them go-'

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Every soldier on the right half of the wall explodes into a bloody mist as their arteries are opened up by one attack from a single unarmed man.

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His tanned upper body is completely bare of any clothing; his only piece of attire is a pair of tattered pants that look as though they have been half eaten by rats. His thick, knotted muscles ripple as he moves; every jab, kick, and chop is a work of lethal art. The only distinguishing features aside from his peerless skills are his bald head, the kanji for "one" on his chest, and a bloated mouth filled with tumors.

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His body transforms into bladed edges with every movement, the slightest touch dismembering anyone within range. In less than ten seconds, half the soldiers on the wall are minced meat.

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'G-Gunpowder...'

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The man dashes towards Usopp; his hands become claws as he punches towards the sniper's neck.

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The bladed hand stops; a single sword blocks the strike.

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The assassin shows no response other than to glare at the three sword users in front of him.

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Bending his body around the bladed hand, Zoro surrounds the attacker’s neck with a vice of three swords. 'Crab Cut!'

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The three blades strike as one at his exposed neck, and despite the tremendous force behind it, the swordsman's blades barely scratch the attacker’s iron-hard skin.

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The Assassin skates backwards on razor skates he conjured on his feet. His silver eyes coolly assess his foe.

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Zoro glares at him before offering him a smirk. The blade in his mouth drips blood onto the ground, mingling with the gore left behind by the guards. Blood that he had claimed from the so-called invincible assassin of the West Blue.

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'Daz Bonez the killer.' Zoro names his enemy.

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'Whew!' Usopp wipes sweat from his brow. 'Thanks, Zoro! That was...'

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'Usopp.' Zoro says, not taking his eyes off his foe. 'Run.'

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'What? Zoro, I can't leave you!'

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Daz Bone cracks his neck; a length of intestines spills out of his open mouth, landing with a slap against his bare chest.

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Zoro brandishes his swords. 'I'm not going to say it again, Usopp. I can't hope to beat this guy if I have to protect your ass.'

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The sniper looks at the foe Zoro is facing. More than anyone he has met this far, the assassin in front of him screams murder. His body language communicates an overwhelming desire to cut, cleave, and kill that rivals Zoro at his most bloodthirsty. Even the crowds of infected now streaming through the gate, howling for Nefitari blood, pale in comparison to the Killer of the West Blue.

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'Eat one of those grappling hooks, use your dumb Devil Fruit powers and get yourself and any of these annoying soldiers out of here!' Zoro charges towards the man, striking his metal hard body with a flurry of blows.

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Usopp reacts quickly. 'You heard the guy!' Usopp shouts to the demoralized men behind him. He points upwards to the battlements high above. 'Get me some of those hooks those guys were using! I'll get us to the top of the cliff!'

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The soldiers stare at the infected monster; every ounce of their training urges them to kill the abomination, to purge the unclean creature standing before them. The hordes of mutants around them howl as they dash up the stairs to the capital.

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'Do you want to die here!?' Usopp shouts at them, his bloodshot eyes filled with anger. He gestures to the combat behind him as Zoro fights desperately to cover their retreat. 'Right now Zoro’s giving his all to protect you, and you’re doing nothing! Do you want to help Alabasta? Or are you going to sit here and do nothing while your country burns!?'

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A larger man shudders at the creature before him. He looks to the hordes advancing up the stairs before slapping himself. 'R-Right! Hatial! Get me some rope! We're meeting up with the artillery division above us!'

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'Yes sir!'

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Men who just watched their commanding officer and half their division die snap into action, galvanized by their training and will to protect their people.

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.........

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Screams and panicked sounds of combat fill the streets of Alabasta. Civilians run for their lives as hordes of infected run them down. Some indulge in bloodshed, others loot their comparatively lavish surroundings, others indulge in more base pleasures. Years of pent-up stigmatization, hatred, and self-loathing have been sparked into an inferno of mindless hatred by an act of unprovoked violence. The king they had depended on, that sick people of Alabasta had looked up to, that they had loved like a father, had revealed his true face as a power-mad tyrant.

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Now only his death and the death of the people he sacrificed them for would calm their madness.

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'Comeoncomeoncomeon!!' A half-mole, half-woman cheers from her hole in the ground.

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With as much effort as someone jumping into a pool, she dives down into the earth, creating another cavernous opening in the ground. A minute later, she pops back up and a swarm of infected pull themselves out of the hole behind her.

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'IgotyouinthecapitalsogoonandkillCobra!' The woman known as Ms Merry Christmas says faster than anyone around her can comprehend. The short, round mole creature flashes her claws, prancing about in a pink tutu like a madwoman. 'Killthemkillthemkillthem!'

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The mole woman cheers as a screaming woman is skewered through her stomach by a length of rebar. 'YessoonCrocodilewillcontrolthislandthenournationofdreamswillbeborn!'

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She digs her talons into the wet ground to open another branch attached to her main tunnel. She had dug the initial staging area days before; now she just had to link it to the surface with a smaller tunnel and...

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Wait? Wet?

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She feels the mushy ground beneath her. The sandy soil had turned into a quagmire of mud before her eyes. Miss Merry Christmas looks up, taking in the completely unexpected sight of rain clouds spontaneously forming above her.

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What the abyss!? Is it raining? In the middle of a desert!?

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A violent rainstorm buffets the mole woman. The completely unexpected freak storm causes her to sputter in disbelief.

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And for it to rain this much!? What was going on!?

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'UaaaAGdAfGJfd!'

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An incomprehensible scream of terror rips through the air behind her. She turns just in time to see the loose tunnel behind her collapsing as its foundation walls turn into slick mud. Hundreds of her potential soldiers are buried alive as they suffocate on wet sand pouring into their hole.

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And they aren't alone. Wherever the heavy rains strike, her beautifully crafted mole holes turn to loose mud. A gross, wet sound is the only signal before the tunnels she crafted weeks before in preparation for their invasion collapse. The sudden wave of destruction drowns those closest to the surface, with wet dirt filling their lungs and burying them alive. The more unfortunate are trapped under hundreds of feet of mud and dirt, left to slowly suffocate alive in the dark underground of Alubarna’s soil.

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'Whotheabyssismessingupmyplans?I'llhaveyouknowthatmytunnelsaremeanttobeusednotflooded!Whenifindoutwhoisresponsibleforthisiwilltearthemtopiecesandfeedthemtomydog!Andanyonewhosupportedthemwilljointheminbeingeatenandpoopedoutbeforeiburytheirremainsinalandfill!' She takes in a single deep breath. 'Andanotherthing!'

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'In the name of Alabasta, die!'

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The woman looks up just in time to see a large round guard charging right at her. And from the door-sized butcher's knife he’s swinging at her and his look of righteous fury, he is obviously not friendly.

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..........

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'Luffy said to go to the West Gate.' Chopper smashes a group of mutants with a punch of brute strength.

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Nami reloads her gun and fires another three shells into the air. The Dance Powder shells explode in the air, pulling moisture from the air and forming more storm clouds.'No he said, "Go to the West," not the West Gate. It's totally different.'

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Chopper snarls as he punches out another mutant. Half the western city is covered in a freak rainstorm, slowing the mutant's advance and extinguishing many of the raging fires threatening to consume it. Unfortunately for them, Nami's efforts to combat the blaze and guide civilians to safety haven't gone unnoticed.

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'Urragh!' A dripping wet freak the size of an outhouse with a smell to match lumbers towards them.

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Chopper dodges its punch and taps its wet skin. With a flick of his wrist, he lets loose a burst of electricity from his gauntlet, frying its nervous system and sending it into the wet mud under him.

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'You know what he meant!' Chopper blocks a concrete hammer swung at him before punching out the attacker. 'We're wasting time here. If we get to the gate, we can stop their advance. I have some anesthetic gases that would work wonders in open spaces.'

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'H-Help me! Please help!'

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'Come back, little sweet! You're not afraid of a little plague, are you!?'

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Nami turns to see a group of hunchbacked creatures pursuing a young girl carrying a baby. Memories flash through her mind. Images of a mother screaming for mercy. And the navigator is filled with rage.

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Breaking open the three-barrel cylinder of her gun, she chambers one dark yellow, one light yellow, and one white round before snapping it back into place.

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'Ge ha ha! Come back, girlie! Don't you want a kiss?'

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Nami aims and fires the white round. The recoil causes her to slide backwards a full two feet on the wet cobblestone. The vibration rocks her arms.

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But it was well worth it.

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The shell hits the ground; a blast of compressed air hits the mutants like a tank shell, blowing them all into the air.

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She cycles the barrel to the dark yellow round. 'Negative charge.'

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She shoots upwards into the clouds, her bullet causing the clouds above to spark uncontrollably.

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'And positive.' Nami fires off her last shell directly at the airborne mutants. It hits the foremost one, an arc of blue electricity, then rapidly spreads to the others through the rain in the air.

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'Tracking Thunderbolt.'

​

The clouds' negative charge, pulled by the positive charge in the mutants' bodies, hits its targets with a blast of thunder. Without the ground to serve as an insulator and discharge the electricity coursing through their bodies, the lightning fries them black. The mutants barely have time to scream before they are converted to piles of charred flesh.



Nami breaks the revolver, discharging the three shells just in time for twenty fried corpses to land in the wet mud of Alubrana.

​

The baffled woman, thrown to the ground by the explosion, looks on in awe as Nami walks towards her. Her eyes widen as she takes in the sight of a deity that is molding the air itself into a weapon.

​

'Hey!' Nami shouts, reloading her caster gun. 'Get to the palace! It's the safest place in this warzone!'

​

'T-The palace!?' The woman shivers in fear, clutching the crying baby in her arms. 'B-But Cobra might be there! What if-'

​

'The guy you saw on the screen is an imposter!' She fires another shell into the air, adding more clouds to the rainstorm above them. 'You'll be safe there! Now get a move on!'

​

The woman shudders a moment longer before the crying baby in her arms spurs her to make a split-second decision. She gets up and runs towards the palace without another word.

​

Chopper sighs. 'Look, Nami, I get it. You think staying here will help, but you can't save everyone!' The doctor turns, shocking a gangly, long-haired creature with his gauntlets. 'You need to ask yourselves where we can best make a difference! We need to get to the gate where we can slow...down...here?'

​

Nami grunts, having tuned out Chopper's protests long ago. 'From where I'm standing, we're making a difference. Besides, we're much safer here than at the front lines.'

​

The navigator looks through her bandolier of shells Usopp made for her. Four more Air Pressure rounds. Eleven Negative Electric rounds. Three Positive Lightning rounds. And only two Dance Powder rounds.

​

She was blowing through the shells way too quickly. She had to hand it to Usopp; the Caster Gun was powerful, no doubt, but it burned through ammo way too fast. In fact, if it hadn't been for Usopp's Devil Fruit, she wouldn't even have shells in the first place. She needed something like the lightning gun, something that wouldn't run out of charge easily (and wouldn't blow up in her face after a single hit).

​

She curses her distracted mind, loading two negative lightning shells and one positive.

​

A conversation for later. Right now she needed to save...

​

Chopper reaches into the satchel on his back and hands her his portable flamethrower. Given the fact that it was designed for Chopper, though, its weight sends her falling on her rear end, landing in the mud with a heavy thud.

​

'C-Chopper!?'

​

'I'll be back in five.' The deer-human says with a sudden urgency tinging his voice. 'Kill anyone who approaches you.'

​

'W-What? Chopper, where...'

​

But it's too late. By the time she voices her protests, Chopper has dashed away in his deer form down a vacant alleyway.

​

Nami's mouth gapes as she watches their doctor abandon her in the middle of a battlefield, running off to gods only knows where.

​

Grumbling to herself, she manages to pick herself up and at least try to aim her cumbersome weapon. 'Great. Just great. I'm all alone here. Can anything else go wrong?'

​

Yes.

​

A building next to her collapses as a man four times as wide as Zoro and three times as tall is chucked through it like a cannonball through cheap wood. He swings his massive axe into the ground, the edge slowing him just enough to avoid hitting the building on the other side. He grunts, pulling his massive weapon from the upturned earth and dusting off his white duck headdress.

​

'You were fortunate, abomination, that your cowardly partner was able to attack my troops from behind.' He readies his axe to strike. 'But you'll find Barrel of the Kicking Claw force far more difficult to fell when his back isn't turned!'

​

Through the dust and rain of the collapsed building, another mountain of a man emerges. The blonde-haired giant of a man pushes through the rubble, his brown shoes crushing rocks bigger than Nami's head into sand with his weight alone. His titanic body, more a giant egg than a man, is dressed in a massive green sweater covered in gaudy patterns. But his size isn't what scares Nami the most.

​

No, that would be his massively infected right arm. The limb is a collection of tumors swollen to half the size of his torso and dripping white fluid onto the wet ground. The meaty, scar-covered hand clings to a massive spiked bat that is absolutely coated in gore. And to top off the disgusting image, there looks to be some kind of mechanical dachshund fused to the tumorous limb, whining in pain as the animal moves about.

​

The man doesn't even bother to respond. He simply points his mutated arm at the guard.

​

kerCheW

​

The dog spits out a ball covered in snot, which Barrel barely dodges. The building behind him explodes from the explosive projectile. The mutant charges towards the off-balance guard, swinging his bat like a madman.

​

'...well I've done my part.' Nami turns away from the battle. 'I think I'll go meet up with Sanji and Vivi now that I put out the fir-'

​

'MrFourrrrrr!!'

​

Nami turns to find a mole woman in a tutu running towards her, bleeding from a massive gash in her right arm. Despite her crippled state, the speed of her feet is only matched by the speed of her mouth. 'Killthisguyhecutmeandineedyoutosnashhisfaceinwithyourtentonbat!'

​

Another building is cut in half, and dashing out of the collapsing stonework is a massive man swinging the largest knife she has ever seen. He swings the razor at her with his full body's force behind it.

​

'Eeeeeiiieee!'

​

The mole woman screams, then, in the face of a blade bigger than her, jumps into the air and digs into the ground with her one good arm. She buries herself in the weakened earth just as the massive, bulky man's knife shatters the ground with one swing where she was standing a second ago. The man grunts, and having lost his target, he rips the blade out and looks around. He quickly notices the intense fight between his comrade Barrel and a hulking abomination, a rainstorm in the middle of Alabasta, and a suspicious-looking girl in the middle of a town square.

​

He looks at Nami.

​

Nami looks back.

​

His eyes narrow.

​

'Um, I'm here to help?'

​

Hyota glares at Nami and her strange outfit. 'More of you? You Baroque Works agents seem to delight in dressing frivolously.'

​

Nami blinks, looking down at her plague suit, the lace from her desert dancer's outfit sticking out from the zippers. Light green lace contrasts with black latex like the fires in the rainy skies.

​

The man points his blade at them. 'How dare you taint our country! Prepare to meet your end!'

​

'What?! No!' She waves her hands. 'I am not a Baroque works agent! I came here with Princess Vivi! I'm her friend!'

​

The man's brow narrows. 'A likely story! Princess Vivi is in hiding! How dare you lie and say you know her.' He readies his massive cleaver. 'Say your prayers, criminal! Hyota of the Kicking Claw force will have your head!'



'...cluck.'

​

..........

​

'Bring more sand! The fire's out of control!'

​

A five-star hotel off the main street burns, the air filling with smoke and screams of anguish. Even here, so close to the palace, the flames of war have left their scars.

​

'We have to stop it from spreading! If it reaches the hospital...'

​

'Hurry! Before those mutants arrive!'



'Guard platoons two and three! Form a perimeter!'

​

'They're tunneling into the city! They could be anywhere below us!'

​

The fiery remains from the bomb set to destroy the palace have fallen across the entire city of Alubarna like comets from hell. Buildings that have endured for hundreds of years catch light in the desert air and quickly begin to burn. The citizens are torn between fleeing from the attacking mutants or watching their homes go up in smoke.

​

'Damn it! Of all the times for the soldiers to be occupied!'

​

'The hospital can't evacuate! We already have casualties incoming!'

​

'We located a tunnel at the Sixth Street Bistro! Grenade squad! We need to close it before we're overrun!'

​

'Miss! Don't just stand there!' A thick-set man in a purple vest fills a bucket with the ash-covered dirt beneath him. 'Grab a bucket of sand and join the line!'

​

'Nah.'

​

'Nah!?' The man snarls. 'Then stay out of our-'

​

'I've got a quicker way.'

​

Before the management can respond, she raises her hand. Before their eyes, the building's flames are sucked into her palm. Three floors of fire are inhaled into the woman's body as easily as taking in a deep breath. Before they can even blink in surprise, the fire consuming their livelihoods is gone. A few wisps of smoke are all that remains of the destructive force threatening to immolate the town.

​

The man turns, his concern for the woman before him overcoming his dumbstruck nerves. 'M-Miss, you're on fire!'

​

Ace smiles. 'Yes, I am. I'm also really, really hot, thank you for noticing.'

​

'But... but... but...'

​

'I also have a hot one of those.' The commander smirks before slapping her rear playfully. 'How very kind of you. I can see why Alubarna's hotels are packed year-round with flattering staff like you around.'

​

The man shakes his head; his cheeks are as crimson as the flames once consuming his business. 'How did you even do that?!'

​

'Oh, I'm a fire woman.' The stranger quips, showing off a handheld flame. She looks around, listening with her haki; she senses the building in front of her. 'And you should help the three people trapped in the janitor's closet near the fourth-story rear stairwell. I think they're still "rare" and not "well done" like most of the mutants I ran into on the way here.'

​

The man sputters, but acts quickly, trusting in the newcomer's miraculous powers, if not their sense of humor. The soldiers enter the building in organized single-file lines, wasting no time in assisting the concerned citizens previously trapped by the flames.

​

Ace adjusts her hat, looking around at the quieter streets. Thanks to that freak rainstorm on the west side, she had no problems putting out the other fires in record time. It was childishly easy for someone with her abilities. More importantly, playing firefighter allowed her the opportunity to search for life forces that could be her quarry. With her Haki to guide her, she had immolated half an army of attacking mutants who were swarming the city from holes popping out of the ground. There was also Luffy, his crew, and a few of the attackers who were strong enough to distinguish themselves as threats. But Crocodile was elusive. She hadn't sensed any sign of hi-

​

'Desert Sword!'

​

Speak of the devil.

​

Ace backflips over a blade of sand just as it cleaves a canyon in the hotel behind her. She curses as she feels several dozen life forces vanish from the sneak attack.

​

A figure drifts down from on high. An ugly son of a witch, dressed like a cheap pimp and wearing a puss-covered face not even a mother could love. The warlord drifts to the ground beneath him in a gust of sand, an ugly, yellow-toothed grin plastered across his face that could shatter mirrors.

​

'Crocodile.' Ace smirks, fighting back a wave of disgust. 'Have you gained weight? You look like you've been hitting that rocky road with all your plague bloating.'

​

The commander takes spiteful joy at Crocodile's sneering face. It lasts for a moment before being replaced by a cruel smile. 'Still in better shape than your so-called father. How is the living paperweight doing these days? Is he still a loser?'

​

Ace's eyes narrow; flames pop from her body. Any trace of her jovial humor disappears to be replaced by rage. 'I'm going to make you eat those words, Crocodile. Get ready to die.'

​

The mastermind of Alabasta's destruction inwardly grins.



Perfect. He thinks to himself as he raises his hook in a combat stance.

​

Finding Ace? Easy, simply follow the extinguished flames. The soft-hearted fool couldn't resist trying to save the useless peasants.

​

Goading her into confrontation? Even easier. Like all those fools who clung to the half-dead corpse, she was easily swayed by his useless ideals of "family". A simple childish insult was enough to have her charge forward like a raging bull.

​

Right into his trap.

​

Heraises his one good hand and feels the small hidden canister on his hook. A canister that contains almost a full pound of powdered sea stone.



Acquiring it had been the hardest part of his scheme. The Tyrant of Wano had been… fickle. He had gone through half a dozen agents and hundreds of slaves before he was able to even trade for the dust. There was also the fact that he honestly hadn't planned on Ace being here, having specifically acquired his ace in the hole for Straw Hat. But it would serve its purpose well enough in helping him kill his "brother". He inwardly laughs, picturing the face that worthless meddler will make when he shows him his "brother's" severed head.

​

One good inhale of the dust and the invincible Second Division Commander and user of fire would turn back flesh and bone. Stuck in a weak human form, so long as any of it were in her lungs, she would be easy prey. And Crocodile had so many tools to kill unsuspecting prey like-

​

'Psyche!'

​

Wait, what?

​

Without another word, Ace turns on a dime and dashes away from him.

​

'...What!'

​

Ace...ran from him? Ace shouldn't run! Ace CAN'T run!

​

But worse of all, Crocodile couldn't afford to let Ace run from him. Ace was an unexpected variable to his plan. A powerful, unexpected variable. If left to her devices, if he just let her run off...

​

Then his dreams of creating his utopia might be dashed.



Mocking laughter echoes down the street from the young woman, and with a savage snarl, Crocodile turns his body to sand follows like a raging sandstorm.

​

...............

​

'How about now?'

​

'No.'

​

click, clack

​

'Now?'

​

'Nothing. Just static.'

​

'Fishsticks. This equipment is old!'

​

crank, click, krick

​

'Where did you even get this stuff, Vivi!?'

​

'From a dusty corner of our storage. Koza and I used to play with them when we were... Wait! Go back.'

​

krick, krick, clank

​

eeeeeeeeeeeeck

​

The speaker whistles and pops as electric current travels through it. The static coming through the speakers indicates that the ancient technology is finally working.

​

Vivi frantically flips through the channels, and despite the popping, whistling background, several voices can be heard. 'Yes!' The woman wearing a straw hat pumps her fist. 'We're in business!'

​

The once open communications room bristles with activity. Dozens of simple wooden tables fill a mail room that looks like a tornado ripped through it. Replacing the sets of Den Mushi allowing contact with the country is a collection of dried-up boxes with speakers. The room is barricaded to protect its inhabitants; guards police just outside the door to prevent anyone from harming their princess. The only other entrance is a gaping hole through which Pell made his ultimate sacrifice, through which the beautiful blue sky can be clearly seen.

​

Sanji wipes the sweat from his brow, pulling himself out from under a mess of wires. Sitting up on his rear, he resists the urge to stand on his non-existent legs and marvels at the antique radios sitting on the table. The purely mechanical wooden boxes are hooked up with wires to the sole Den Mushi, who looks to be old enough to be in a grave. But despite the finicky nature of the current setup, the connection is stable. Alubarna Palace can once again communicate with the outside world.

​

'Well, I never thought I'd have to put down "antique repairs man" on my resume.' Sanji wipes the black oil off his hands onto his stained black shirt. 'But I got it working, Vivi-chan!'

​

'Thank you, Sanji! You've been very helpful!' Ignoring the swooning man, the princess flips through the lines to reach a specific frequency. 'Father! Father! Can you read me? We were able to establish wireless communications with the city! Can you read me? Over!'

​

crackle

​

'Vivi? Is... that you?' Cobra's voice cuts in and out of the speaker system.

​

'Yes, father! I am here! Are you all right? Is the civilian evacuation going well?'

​

She hears a broken chuckle from the other side. 'Well, I've gotten... worse receptions. My coat... covered in garbage but more imp... our people are making their way... palace.' The line constantly cuts in and out as the king speaks. 'Can you reach... ivilians?'

​

'I'm just about to start the emergency sirens.' The princess says, reading between the lines. 'I wanted to reach out to you first before anything.'

​

'Do not... Vivi. Our people's lives... more important.'

​

'I understand. Please reach out if you need help, Father!' Vivi flips the switch and turns to her Nakama. 'Sanji. It's up to you.'

​

The chef pulls himself into a chair in front of a large switch. 'Moment of truth.' He flips it to a cascade of sparks.

​

The lights in the room flicker, but after a second, a droning alarm can be heard.

​

Weooow Weooow Weooow

​

The once-muted siren can be heard echoing through the city even from their sequestered location. The loud droning sound can be clearly heard throughout Alubarna, from the underground crypts to the back of the palace.

​

'Okay. That is the "T" alarm. Anyone who hasn't heard the broadcast will be gathering in the palace or cave systems.' Vivi says with obvious relief. 'Thank you again, Sanji.'

​

'Of course, Vivi-san!'

​

She takes a precious second to look Sanji in the eyes. The chef's boisterous front crumbles into nothing. 'Seriously. Thank you, Sanji.'

​

'...it's no problem, Vivi.' He looks down at his legs, useless stumps, and reflects on the kicking skills he took years to learn. 'I just wish... I could do more.'

​

Vivi places her hand on his shoulder. 'And you are. Thanks to you getting this antique equipment up and running, you've saved possibly millions of lives. It may not be as glamorous as stabbing Crocodile's stupid face and watching the blood drain from his wretched body.' She takes a breath to calm herself down. 'But you saved more people today by not having to fight.'

​

A sad look crosses Vivi's face. 'It's like Pell said. There is a difference between fighting and protecting. What's important isn't the fact that you fought but that you were able to protect the people you care about.' The hat-wearing princess gestures to the machinery. 'And with this we'll be able to protect the citizens of Alabasta and help our friends. You've protected so many people by being-'

​

'WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!?' A voice from the other side of the door shouts.

​

The Straw Hats turn towards the sealed door to the communication center, wondering what the guards are reacting to.

​

Then all hell breaks loose.

​

BangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBang

​

'Aaaaaaaagh!'

​

'Kill iAAaaeeeIiiiEee!'

​

'Vivi!' Sanji throws himself at the princess, dragging her to the ground as hundreds of bullets riddle the room.

​

BangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBang

​

Thousands of rounds of supersonic metal pierce every square inch of the room. The equipment they spent hours repairing is reduced to kindling and torn metal. The sole aged Den Mushi is reduced to paste. Even the stone pillars are eaten away by a stream of white-hot lead.

​

BangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBang

​

'NO!' Vivi screams, scrambling for the pieces of the destroyed radio equipment. 'The broadcast! We need-'

​

'I set the transmission to loop, Vivi!' Sanji shouts, grabbing the princess' shoulder. 'Your people will get the message, but we need-'

​

The bullet-riddled door is blown off its hinges, and a winged nightmare flies in.

​

The feathered black wings flutter in the enclosed space, kicking up letters and scattered papers. Attached to its lower half, in place of its tallons are a set of machine guns wrapped in barbed wire that drips blood. The creature's head is a smooth orb of solid metal without any openings other than a cruel, sharpened beak. A set of jet boosters is surgically fused to its back, providing propulsion and control dozens of times greater than the fastest birds.

​

Despite its metal augmentations, its chest is the most horrible part of the creature. Encased in a glass dome is a horrific fusion of beast and machinery. An otter dressed in what looks to be a set of pajamas is fused by grisly green tumors to the flying beast's chest. Its cockpit is filled with levers, control sticks, and gauges that defy the imagination in variety. And unlike the emotionless buzzard flying in front of them, the otter's small beady eyes are expressive.

​

The expression it wears is filled with nothing but hatred towards all life and the will to destroy it.

​

'What the abyss is that!?' Sanji stares at the mechanical abomination flying in front of them.

​

'The Unluckies...' Vivi looks up at the fused monstrosities. 'The Baroque Works weapon designed to punish any who defy the organization.'

​

The otter within its shell pulls a lever, and the flying buzzard responds.

​

'BBBBRRRWWWAAACCKKK!' The blighted buzzard aims its gattling gun legs at the prone princess and fires.

​

.........

​

'Calmly make your way to the nearest underground shelter.' The authoritative voice of Cobra echoes over the mob of people. 'Every hydroponics cavern save the main reservoir has been opened to the public. Those who have guard training or family in the royal palace are free to make their way there.'

​

Despite being no louder than an above-average shout, the king's perfect articulation carries his voice to his people. His calming, strong, and compassionate tone calms their fears.

​

The monarch watches the group of survivors enter down a long stairway into the earth with visible relief. Guards help the old and young along as they make their way to safety.

​

'Chaka?' He addresses the man by his side. 'How goes the evacuation?'

​

His right hand studiously checks his chart. 'This is the last of those in the royal district, my king. Most had already taken the initiative in fleeing.'

​

'Good... very good.' He watches as the last of his citizens make their way underground.

​

His arrival initially had not been greeted favorably. Even here, the families of those who worked under his presence had caused a surge of panic. Only his oratory skills and willingness to endure the crowd's abuse had convinced them of his good intentions.

​

He looks towards the streets leading to midtown. How would the rest of his people react? Would their faith in him endure? Or would they believe Crocodile's ruse and turn on him?

​

He looks down at his robes stained with red ink, making it look as though he is stained with blood. He doubted anyone outside the city center would throw anything as harmless as ink.

​

Taking off his now-stained coat, he drapes his royal robes over an older woman, the last to enter the bunker.

​

The aged grandmother smiles. 'Blessings of the gods upon you, Cobra.'

​

He smiles back. 'Blessings of the gods upon you too, child of Alabasta.'

​

No. It didn't matter what his people thought of him. All that mattered is they were safe.

​

Everything, even his own life, could wait for later. Right now, he had to do everything in his power to save his people.

​

He waves to the woman as she walks over to join the rest of her family. There, he continues to wave as the heavy metal gate seals them safely underground.

​

At least these people are safe.

​

'My king.' Chaka's words of concern knock him out of his train of thought. 'Now that we have evacuated the royal quarter and your daughter has turned on the alarm, perhaps it would be a good time to return to the palace?'

​

Weooow Weooow Weooow

​

Cobra listens to the alarm sounding in the background. His mind had long ago censored the whining from his conscious hearing.

​

'... No.'

​

'My king, you can better coordinate an evacuation from-'

​

The king raises his hand. 'My daughter is more than capable of leading our people to safety.' He looks at the soldiers around him, each one an elite member of his palace guard. 'But we are the ones closest to the front lines. The way I can best serve my people now...'

​

He draws a desert scimitar, simple, keen-edged, and worn from hours of practice in his youth. 'Is to lead from the front line. Do you disagree, old friend?'

​

'Of course not, my king.' Chaka bows respectfully. 'I trust your judgment in all things. My only wish is for your safety.'

​

The king smiles at his subject's loyalty. 'Thank you, my good friend, I knew I could- CHAKA DODGE!'

​

A trio of pure dark lances shoots towards the chief guard's back from a completely shadowed alley. Traveling faster than a bullet, they pierce through several soldiers in their way to skewer Chaka's skull.

​

But Chaka is just as quick as the surprise attack.

​

His form shimmers as he takes a half-beast form, half man, half jackal. His sword snaps from his sheath, and spurred by his king's warning, he parries the spears behind him. The flat of his blade smacks away the blood-soaked spears, knocking them harmlessly to the side.

​

The guard's eyes take in the sight of the weapons. Three impossibly long, finger-width spikes, long enough to impale five of his guards from a block away.

​

'Hmm. It seems the King's pet isn't as dumb as he looks.'

​

The spears vanish in an instant, sending the skewered guards falling to the ground. Chaka barely notices the spears withdraw, growing back into the hand of the woman sauntering out of the darkness.



Dressed in a skimpy, black and spider web-inspired outfit, the woman oozes sexuality. Her lace-covered hips sway unnaturally off to the sides with every step she takes. The black latex bra, panties, gloves, and thigh-high boots are monogrammed with spiders. Her wavy blue hair cascades wildly down her shoulders and around her double D chest. Even her tumors, blossoming around her abdomen and disgorging spiked bone, appear aesthetically pleasing, being arranged in a six-pointed pattern around her exposed navel.

​

Extending her fingers to her mouth, she sensually licks the blood from her gloved digits. 'Then again, it's probably for the best. I prefer to... take my time with my prey.'

​

A nearby soldier swings his mace at her. 'Die y-'

​

The woman's body becomes a sea urchin. Forty spikes sprout from every inch of her skin, perforating the charging soldier dozens of times. A second later, the spikes retract, and the guard falls over, having died several times before he hit the ground. With a cruel smile, the woman walks past the hole-covered piece of flesh that was once a man.

​

'So tell me, "King" Cobra.' The woman saunters towards the king, even as the guards gather round to attack. 'How would you like to die painfully at the hands of a beautiful woman?'



'...why?' Cobra asks, aiming the tip of his sword at her rotten skull. His face is a stern mask of defiance. 'Are there any "beautiful women" around here?'

​

'...' The woman's sharpened fingernails extend outwards like the claws of a banshee. 'Slow and painful it is.'



..........

​

It was her.

​

It had to be.

​

The way she moved.

​

Her clothes.

​

Her face.

​

Her body.

​

Even her smell.

​

It was her.

​

She was here.

​

So why did she run from him?

​

Chopper gallops around in his deer form, cursing the stench of battle and Nami's rainstorm. The environment is working against him.

​

That didn't matter, though. She was here. Kureha was here! He saw her in the battle.

​

But why did she run from him? It was illogical, unprecedented, inconceivable. Why would Kureha run from him?

​

Was she still a hostage of Baroque Works somehow? An explosive device? A poison she needed an antidote for?

​

If so, why didn't she come to him for help?

​

Instead, she had stared at him, her eyes indecipherable and strange, before running off.

​

Why?

​

He shakes his head, sending drops of rain falling off his top hat. The first present anyone had ever given him. The first present she gave him.

​

Not important. The doctor scans the empty streets around him for any signs of his mentor. The wet puddles ripple from the half-drizzle still falling.

​

First step, find Doctorine. Second step, make sure she is safe. Third step, remove the presence of anything that would threaten her.

​

He just has to find her fi-

​

His eyes stop on a single aged figure standing in the middle of the road. A purple and pink jacket/pants set with a simple white T-shirt. A youthful body, with ample breasts and well-toned muscle concealed beneath her limbs. An older face, wearing two pairs of glasses. Grey wavy hair, sharp chin, confident stance.

​

The smell of disinfectant and herbs.

​

'D-Doctorine?'

​

'About time you showed up, Chopper!' She pushes up her glasses, leveling a cocky gaze at her pupil. 'And here I thought you'd skipped out on me before paying me what you owe. You still haven't paid me back that one belli!'

​

Her attitude.

​

Her voice.

​

The memory of that Belli.

​

'Well, quit standing there gawking like an idiot!'

​

It's her.

​

He reverts to his "human" form, his bulk sinking slightly into the wet mud.

​

'D-Doctorine...'

​

'Gese, you're crying now?' His doctor sticks her chin up in disdain. 'What happened to being a real man?'

​

The analytical part of his mind that is active every second of every day sputters and shuts down. A torrent of emotions spills forth. 'Doctorine!'

​

In three steps, he runs up to the elderly woman and wraps his arms around her. 'Doctorine! How!? Why!? I missed you!' He cries. 'I-I missed you so much!'

​

She rubs his fur, just like she always did after he had a nightmare that woke her up in the middle of the night. 'Come on, Chopper. You're lucky I don't charge for hugs... too much.'

​

'I-I...' the stone-hearted doctor sniffles. 'I thought you were dead!' He grips her tightly. 'I thought you... you...'

​

'There, There Chopper.' She rubs his neck. 'It's all right. Everything is all right.'

​

He feels something.

​

Something off.

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His head starts to spin.

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'D-Doctorine? Are-'

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'Ssssssshhhh.' She rubs the side of his neck, a side that feels incredibly numb, like it had been exposed to a topical anesthetic. 'It's okay, Chopper.'

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He feels his mind swim, as his knees nearly buckle.

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His superhuman anatomy grows sluggish.

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A sedative... no, it is... more?

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'D-Docto....' he feels his consciousness slip. He lets go of the woman.

​

He falls backwards.

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Thoughts slow.

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Muscles heavy. Not... right?

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The woman looks down at him. 'Poor, poor Chopper.' She touches her cheek.

​

And transforms before his swirling vision into a completely different person. The man wearing Doctorine's scent is as different from her as noght us from day. Where she is restrained and mature, the man is boisterous and loud. Where she is knowledgeable and insightful, he is instinctively clever. His black dome of hair, mascara, and double chin are completely at odds with his mentor's face.

​

'Oh, I'm so sorry! Swan sorry! Nya ha ha ha!' The effeminate man spins in place on his tiptoes. 'But with a little acting and my clone fruit, you can't tell your best friend from a fake! Hyuk Hyuk Hyuk!'

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'N-Not... Doctor...'

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'But don't you worry, my furry friend!' He winks as the last of his dupe's consciousness fades. 'I'll take gooooood care of you for Croc boy!'

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And with that, the last of his strength leaves Chopper's arm as he collapses against the serum's effects.

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The man watches the unconscious beast in front of him and lets out another chuckle. 'Ha Ha Ha Ha! Another successful act! Two successful impersonations for Mr Two! I really am on a roll today!'

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A slow, calm clap fills the barren street as a familiar woman walks towards him.

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The man turns and bows on reflex. 'Thank you, Robin San! Thank you! I'll be here all week!'

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Robin comes to a stop and smiles. 'Another successful operation, Bon Clay. And here I thought you might need my help!'

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'Help? Moi?' The boisterous man gestures to himself. 'Never! You should know by now Robin San my acting is perfect! Especially since I've been guarding the good doctor for months now! I can imitate her cocky attitude and tsundere act in my sleep!'

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Robin lets out a mature giggle. 'Yes, well, I'll make sure to let Mr Zero know you didn't need my help.'

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'Nya ha ha ha! You're right about that!' Bon Clay lets out a joyous laugh.

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A serious look tinged with pity crosses her face. 'Or to be specific, at least you didn't need my help to subdue Chopper.'

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'Huh?' The agent dons a new look of confusion. 'What does that mean, Robin-san?'

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She smiles sadly. 'It means clutch.'

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'Clutch? Wha-'

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Two arms sprouting from Bon Clay's back wrap around his throat. He tries to raise his hands only to find them held in place by monstrously mutated arms of black. The agent feels his throat constrict, his airway closed up by the tender caress of the Plague Daughter. 'R-Robin... w-why?'

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'I'm sorry, Bon Clay.' She says earnestly. 'But sacrifices must be made to create a utopia where those afflicted aren't persecuted. Crocodile has given his orders that you can't be trusted.'

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He struggles to breathe. 'R-Robin...f-friends?'

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'... I'd like to think we were.' She holds up her hand. 'Good bye.'

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She squeezes her hand.

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And Bon Clay falls over into the mud.

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Robin looks down at the motionless body as her conjured arms around his neck disappear into black petals.

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'... I'm sorry, Bon Clay, but as you might know, great things require sacrifice.' She glances at the doctor she was tasked with retrieving. 'Sacrifice and pain.'