The emergency beacon flickered once more, spelling HELLO in Morse code before dying permanently. The holographic projection above the stone table fizzed into static, leaving the Consortium's strategists in a silence thick enough to choke on. Knox Penrose, Captain of the Guards, leaned forward, his handlebar mustache casting a shadow over the map of the New World sprawled before him. The three islands glowed ominously: Obsidian Depths, Ironmaw Atoll, and Isla Koralia—the last marked with a skull and crossbones.
"Marya's clever," Vaughn said, his voice steady despite the tension. His double-sided ax, Light Bringer, lay across the table like a promise. "That signal wasn't an accident. She's telling us she's alive."
Bianca, already stuffing tools into a bag large enough to hold a small ship, snorted. "Like, what if her sub's, like, dead?"
Celeste hovered near the door, her silver bob catching the dim light. She pressed her index fingers together, her katana at her side. "Obsidian Depths… th-the Beast Pirates mine seas-tone there. It's… dangerous."
"Danger's my middle name!" Riggs declared, twirling his katana until Jax smacked the blade down with his three-sectioned staff.
"Your middle name is Idiot," Jax growled. "We're not charging in blind. Emmet—what's the play?"
Emmet adjusted his glasses, his freckled face lit by the glow of his calculations. "The beacon's decay rate suggests Obsidian Depths is the origin. Probability: 68.3%. Ironmaw Atoll: 22.1%. Isla Koralia: 9.6%." He paused.
Knox nodded. "Then we start with Obsidian. Vaughn leads. Bianca—be ready to work mechanical miracles. Celeste, Riggs, Jax—eyes sharp. Move fast, stay quiet. If she's not there, we pivot."
Riggs saluted with his sword. "To glory!"
Jax muttered, "To not dying."
The sub hummed as Bianca welded a makeshift regulator to the engine, sparks flying like angry fireflies. "Like, whoever installed this junk should be fed to sea kings. Amateurs!"
Vaughn manned the helm, his dreads tied back with a strip of leather. "Just get us there in one piece."
Celeste monitored the sonar, flinching as blips appeared—Beast Pirate patrol ships, their hulls stamped with Kaido's jagged crest. "Two ships… port side. Closing fast."
Riggs peered through a periscope. "They've got cannons the size of trees! Let's say hi!"
"No," Vaughn and Jax said in unison.
Bianca slammed a fist on the controls. "Dive, dive, dive!"
The sub plunged into the inky depths, narrowly avoiding a barrage of cannon fire that churned the water above.
The island was a jagged nightmare of volcanic rock and sea stone quarries. The Consortium team surfaced in a hidden cove, the air reeking of sulfur and salt. Beast Pirate flags flapped atop watchtowers, and the distant clang of pickaxes echoed like a funeral dirge.
"Split up," Vaughn ordered. "Celeste and Riggs, scout the eastern docks. Jax and I'll check the quarry. Bianca—stay with the sub. Emmet—monitor comms."
Bianca waved a blowtorch. "Like, if you die, I'm, like, taking your rations."
The eastern docks of Obsidian Depths were a maze of crumbling piers and rusted cranes, the air thick with the acrid tang of sea stone dust. Celeste pressed herself against a corroded shipping container, her silver bob clinging to her damp cheeks. Riggs hovered beside her, his katana gleaming faintly in the moonlight.
"Stay close," Celeste whispered, her voice barely audible over the distant clang of pickaxes.
"Relax, Cel," Riggs grinned, twirling a lock of his shaggy blond hair. "I've dodged worse than these goons."
They slipped past a Beast Pirate patrol, their boots silent on the salt-crusted planks. Ahead, rows of iron cages lined the docks, filled with hollow-eyed prisoners. A child's whimper cut through the night. Celeste froze, her fingers tightening on her hilt. "We can't… we can't help them," Riggs muttered, uncharacteristically solemn.
Celeste's index fingers pressed together. "I-I know." A spotlight swept toward them. Riggs yanked Celeste into the shadow of a cargo net, their breaths mingling as guards lumbered past, dragging an unconscious prisoner.
The quarry was a gaping maw in the earth, its walls studded with jagged sea stone veins that glinted like cursed diamonds. Vaughn scaled the cliff face, Light Bringer strapped to his back, while Jax scanned the terrain below with a spyglass. "Smuggler's tunnel," Jax grunted, pointing to a crevice half-hidden by a boulder. "Fresh tracks."
Inside, they found crates stamped with Joker—Doflamingo's alias. Vaughn flipped open a ledger, its pages filled with coordinates, dates, and a recurring name: Kaido. "Sea stone shipments to Wano," Vaughn said, his voice cold. "Enough to arm an empire."
Jax kicked a crate, his three-sectioned staff clattering. "No, Marya. No Charlie. Just Doflamingo and Kaido."
A rumble echoed overhead. Rocks clattered down the quarry walls as a Beast Pirate foreman shouted, "Blast in five! Clear the shafts!"
Vaughn pocketed the ledger. "Move. Now."
The team reconvened at the cove, the sub's hull barely visible beneath a tarp of seaweed. Bianca sat cross-legged on a rock, fiddling with a cracked Den Den Mushi. She hopped to her feet when she saw them emerge from the shadows.
Vaughn's jaw tightened, his knuckles whitening around Light Bringer's shaft. "They were never here."
Emmet stared at his calculations, the numbers blurring. "The beacon's energy… it's faint. Interference from the sea stone, maybe. Or…" He trailed off, unwilling to voice the alternative.
Riggs kicked a rock into the surf, his bravado crumbling. "So we failed?!"
Jax gripped his shoulder unusually gently. "We followed the trail. That's all we can do."
Celeste hugged herself, her sword trembling. "Ironmaw next. They're… they're there. They have to be."
A cold wind swept the cove, carrying the stench of sulfur and salt. Somewhere in the dark, a prisoner's chain rattled. Vaughn nodded to the horizon, where storm clouds devoured the stars. "We adapt. Ironmaw Atoll at dawn."
Bianca shouldered her tool bag, forcing a grin. "Like, next time, let's find an island with margaritas."
No one laughed.
*****
Ace grinned, pulling a glowing mushroom from his pocket. "No promises."
Marya's glare could've melted steel. "If you eat that, I'll turn your insides into actual fire."
Charlie adjusted his cracked glasses, squinting up at the Spire of Ash. The volcanic monolith spewed plumes of gray smoke into the twilight sky, its jagged face studded with Beast Pirate banners and the fossilized remains of fools who'd dared climb it. At the summit, Ace's orange hat sat petrified in a cocoon of ash, glowing faintly like a taunt.
"The quartz crystal's in a crevice halfway up," Marya said, her mist already coiling around her boots. "We grab it, don't trigger a landslide, and get out. Understood?"
Ace saluted with the mushroom. "Crystal clear!"
Charlie sighed. "That pun physically hurt."
The Spire wasn't a mountain—it was a middle finger from geology itself. Loose shale crumbled underfoot, and the air reeked of sulfur. Marya led, her mist dissolving handholds where the rock refused to cooperate. Charlie clung to her like a barnacle, scribbling notes mid-ascent.
"Fascinating! The Spire's composition suggests it's a dormant titan's femur—"
"Less science, more climbing," Marya snapped.
Ace, meanwhile, scaled the cliff face like a hyperactive spider, humming Binks' Brew off-key. "Hey, look! A lava gecko!" He poked a glowing reptile, which hissed and spat embers at his hair.
"Focus," Marya growled. They reached the quartz crevice—a jagged scar in the rock oozing neon-orange magma. The crystal pulsed inside, its surface fractal-patterned like a frozen flame. "Jackpot," Marya whispered.
Then the Spire coughed. A tremor shook the cliffs. Beast Pirates shouted from a watchtower below as rockslides cascaded around them. "Landslide protocol!" Charlie yelped, flattening himself against the wall.
Marya's mist anchored them as boulders the size of houses crashed past. The quartz crystal trembled, slipping deeper into the magma. "No no no—" Marya lunged, her fingers inches from the crystal—
Ace's shout cut her off. "MY HAT!" The tremor had dislodged the fossilized hat, sending it tumbling toward the molten river below. Without hesitation, Ace backflipped off the cliff, fire erupting from his fists to propel himself downward.
"ACE!" Marya roared.
"He's insane," Charlie whimpered.
"He's Ace," Marya corrected, already descending.
Ace cannonballed into the magma river, his flames creating a temporary air bubble. He snatched the hat mid-plunge, its petrified surface cracking as his fire melted the ash. "Gotcha!" He grinned, surfing a geyser of flame back to the cliff.
Marya hauled him up by his collar, her mist dousing his smoldering pants. "You idiot! The quartz—"
"Priorities!" Ace shook the hat, now restored to its former glory—if slightly singed. "Look! It's alive!"
Charlie peered over the edge. The quartz crystal had vanished into the magma, swallowed by the Spire's wrath. "Well," he said weakly, "at least we got… a hat?"
Beast Pirates converged below, their shouts echoing up the cliffs. Marya's mist enveloped the trio, carrying them down in a whirlwind of gray. "Next time," Marya hissed, "we leave Ace on the sub."
"Next time," Ace said, adjusting his resurrected hat, "I'm bringing marshmallows." As they fled into the sulfurous fog, the Spire of Ash rumbled—a final, mocking farewell.
Back in the sub, Ace proudly duct-taped his hat to the wall. Charlie stared at the dead engine. "So… no crystal. No regulator. No hope."
Marya unsheathed her dagger, eyeing Ace's hat. "I could melt it back into ash…"
Ace hugged the hat. "Over my dead body!"
"Tempting."
*****
The sub cut through the black waters toward Ironmaw Atoll, its hull groaning under the weight of the team's silence. Vaughn stared at the sonar, his reflection warped in the green glow of the screen. Celeste sharpened her blade, the rhythmic shink of steel the only sound. Riggs fidgeted with his katana's hilt, his usual bravado dampened. Jax glowered at the floor, his three-sectioned staff leaning against the bulkhead like a coiled serpent.
Emmet broke the quiet. "Ironmaw's tidal patterns suggest the beacon's signal could've bounced off the coral shelves. But if they're here… they're hidden."
"Or dead," Jax muttered.
Bianca threw a screwdriver at him. "Like, shut your doom-mouth! Like, Marya's tougher than a sea king's toenail."
The atoll rose from the mist like the ribs of a drowned leviathan. Shattered hulls of ancient warships impaled the jagged coral, their masts skeletal against the blood-orange dawn. Schools of razor-fin sharks circled the sub, their bioluminescent teeth gnashing in the murk.
"Cheery place," Riggs said, strapping on his sword. "Bet they've got a gift shop."
Vaughn ignored him, barking orders. "Celeste and Riggs—scout the eastern wrecks. Jax, with me. Bianca, prep the sub for a fast exit. Emmet, monitor comms."
Bianca saluted with a blowtorch. "Like, try not to get eaten."
The eastern wrecks were a maze of splintered wood and rusted cannons. Celeste stepped lightly, her boots silent on salt-bleached planks. Riggs, meanwhile, clambered up a mast, squinting at the horizon. "See anything?" Celeste whispered.
"Just more spooky garbage," Riggs said, kicking a barnacled skull. It rolled into the water, attracting a frenzy of razor-fins.
A flicker of movement caught Celeste's eye—a scrap of blue fabric snagged on a coral spike. She lunged for it, but a wave sucked it into the depths. "M-Maybe they were here…"
"Or maybe it's trash," Riggs said, though his voice lacked its usual swagger.
The central wreck was a fortress of rot, its hull tattooed with Beast Pirate graffiti. Vaughn pried open a rusted hatch, Light Bringer's blades glinting. Inside, crates of damp gunpowder and moldy rations lined the walls. "Storage dump," Jax grunted. "Nothing recent."
Vaughn knelt, brushing dust from a footprint. Too small for Marya, too large for Charlie. "Someone was here. Not them." A creak echoed above. Jax shoved Vaughn aside as a decayed mast collapsed, spearing the floor where he'd stood. "Thanks," Vaughn said.
"Don't mention it," Jax replied. "Ever."
Bianca welded a leak in the sub's hull, sparks raining onto her boots. "Like, remind me why we're risking death for a maybe?"
Emmet adjusted his headset. "Because 'maybe' is all we have."
The comms crackled—a distorted SOS, cut mid-transmission.
"Was that—?" Bianca started.
"Interference," Emmet said, though his hands trembled. "Probably."
The team reconvened at dusk, their faces etched with exhaustion.
"Nothing," Celeste said, her fingers pressing together. "Just… ghosts."
Vaughn slammed a fist into the sub's hull, leaving a dent. "Damn it."
Riggs flopped onto a crate, his katana clattering. "Two islands. Two dead ends. This sucks."
Jax stared at the horizon, where Isla Koralia's shadow loomed. "One island left."
Bianca kicked her tool bag. "Like, Koralia's, like, a death trap."
"We go," Vaughn interrupted, his voice steel. "Tomorrow."
No one argued.
That night, Celeste found Riggs on the deck, staring at the stars. "You think they're alive?" he asked, strangely quiet.
Celeste followed his gaze to the Spire of Ash's silhouette. "They have to be."
A shooting star streaked across the sky—or maybe a flare. Neither dared hope.
*****
The sea was a slab of iron beneath a starless sky. Vergo stood at the prow of his warship, its black hull slicing through the fog like a blade through silk. The air stank of salt and sulfur, the acrid tang of Isla Koralia's volcanic breath curling over the waves. Behind him, Marines in G-5 uniforms scurried like roaches, their faces pale under the deck's sickly green lanterns. None met his gaze.
Vergo's white trench coat hung immaculate, untouched by the ash already settling on the ship's rails. A cookie clung to his cheekbone, fossilized by hours of neglect. He didn't bother to wipe it away.
The island emerged from the haze—first the Spire of Ash, its jagged peak clawing at the clouds, then the skeletal docks where Beast Pirate flags hung limp in the stagnant air. The Spire's shadow stretched across the water, a dagger aimed at Vergo's throat.
"Sir," a Marine stammered, clutching a report. "The individuals in question—they were last sighted near the obsidian cliffs. Should we—" Vergo's bamboo staff cracked the man's collarbone before he finished. The Marine crumpled, his whimper drowned by the creak of the ship's hull.
"Dock," Vergo said.
The ship groaned as it kissed the pier, its gangplank slamming down like a guillotine. Vergo descended, his boots echoing on the weather-beaten wood. The dockhands—Beast Pirates with Kaido's jagged crest tattooed on their necks—froze, their tools slipping from trembling fingers.
"Where's the foreman?" Vergo asked, his voice a monotone rumble.
A hulking man with a scarred face stepped forward, sweat glistening on his brow. "H-Here, Vice Admiral. The shipment's ready, but the quarry's unstable. The Spire's been—"
Vergo's staff tapped the man's chest, a single, almost tender gesture. The foreman's eyes bulged as his ribs caved inward, the sound like a sack of wet gravel. He toppled into the water, his scream cut short by razor-fins.
"Stable now," Vergo said, stepping over the man's discarded club.
Ash fell like gray snow as he marched inland, his shadow devouring the narrow streets. The island's residents—starved wretches and battle-scarred pirates alike—melted into alleys at the sight of him. The Spire loomed ahead, its base a hive of mining tunnels and rusted cages.
Vergo paused, tilting his head as if listening to the wind. Somewhere in the labyrinth of stone, a sub's engine coughed. Somewhere, a sword unsheathed.
He smiled, the cookie crumbling from his cheek.
Soon