The humid air beneath Sabaody's mangrove canopy thickened as the group wound through serpentine roots, following Rayleigh's lead. Marya walked at the front, her Heart Pirates insignia stark against damp leather, dark boots silent on the moss-slick wood. Behind her, Atlas cracked his knuckles, blue sparks dancing in his fur. "Place your bets, Noodle-Neck! How many seconds before she sends the old man flying?"
Galit's emerald eyes narrowed, his long neck coiling like a spring. "Unlike you, Sparky, I analyze before predicting. Her footwork suggests remarkable discipline, but her center of gravity—"
"Bloop!" Jelly wobbled between them, leaving shimmering wet footprints. "Stabby friends and bouncy friends! Fun-time adventure!"
Shakky chuckled, smoke curling from her cigarette as she guided Fia and the merfamily. Henrick's hammerhead silhouette loomed protectively over Lulee and Geo, whose coral-pink and silver-blue hair glowed in the dappled light filtering through the canopy. Fia squeezed Henrick's arm, whispering, "Will she be alright against him?"
Atlas snorted. "Relax, Goldie. That old fossil's got dust in his joints."
Rayleigh paused in a sun-drenched clearing where bubbles drifted like molten glass. Mangrove roots formed natural benches. Shakky leaned against one, tapping ash. "Marya's the strongest rookie to walk through my bar in a decade. Then again," she added, watching Marya shrug off her jacket, "hawks raise fierce chicks."
Marya drew Eternal Eclipse. The obsidian blade swallowed the light, crimson runes flickering like molten stars. Rayleigh unsheathed his simple saber, its edge humming with latent energy.
"Control's impressive, girl," Rayleigh noted, settling into a deceptively loose stance.
As they sized each other up, Marya adjusted her grip, golden eyes unblinking. "The Mountain Eater lacked your patience."
He lunged.
Not with speed, but presence—the air itself seemed to bow. Marya pivoted, Eternal Eclipse meeting steel with a shriek that scattered birds. Their blades locked, trembling.
CRACK!
A wave of force tore through the clearing. Mangrove leaves rained down. Bubbles burst mid-air. Geo yelped, burying his face in Henrick's side. "Papa! The sky broke!"
Henrick's voice rumbled, awestruck. "No, son. That's will made real."
Rayleigh disengaged, grinning. "Holding back?"
Marya's smirk was a razor-cut. "Wouldn't want you to strain your back. I need that sub coated."
They moved like opposing tides. Rayleigh flowed—a current of feints and shifts, his blade flickering like sunlight on waves. Marya was the undertow: economical, relentless, her strikes carving arcs of devouring darkness. When Rayleigh ducked a sweep, strands of his silver hair drifted to the moss.
"Ha!" Rayleigh spun, sandals grinding roots to pulp. "Done playing!"
"Keep up, Gramps."
He charged again, a tempest in human skin. Marya braced, Eternal Eclipse poised like a serpent's fang—
CLANG!
The impact reverberated in bones. Fia gasped. Atlas's fur stood on end, sparks hissing. "Damn… she blocked that?"
Galit's analytical murmur cut through. "Not just blocked. She channeled the kinetic force downward. See the roots?" Fractures spiderwebbed through the mangrove wood beneath Marya's boots.
Rayleigh pushed, muscles straining. "Arrogant as your old man!"
"Takes one to know one."
Jelly bounced, starry eyes wide. "Stabby-dance! So pretty!"
Shakky exhaled a smoke ring, serene. "Like watching history clash with destiny."
The air sizzled where their blades met, not with heat, but with the raw pressure of colliding wills. Rayleigh's grin widened as Marya's retort hung between them. "Charging extra?"
He chuckled, the sound rough as grinding stones. "Depends how long you keep treatin' this like a tea party, girl." He disengaged with a fluid twist, his sandals barely whispering on the moss. "Holding back's insulting. To me and that fancy blade."
Marya's golden eyes narrowed, a flicker of something fierce beneath the calm. "Careful what you wish for, Gramps," she warned, her voice low. "Surprises sting." She shifted her stance, a subtle settling of weight that made the very ground beneath her seem to still.
CRACK-BOOM!
The world erupted. Not sound, but force – a physical wave slamming outward. Mangrove roots groaned. Bubbles overhead popped like gunfire. The air itself buzzed, thick and electric, pressing against eardrums, making hair stand on end. Above, unseen birds shrieked in panic.
"Look!" Geo cried, pointing a trembling finger skyward. High in the canopy, a thick branch as wide as Henrick's torso simply… sheared off. It fell silently for a heartbeat before crashing through lower foliage in a shower of splinters and leaves. Another invisible blade of pure, unleashed will sliced diagonally across a nearby root, leaving a smoking, glassy scar in the ancient wood.
Rayleigh didn't flinch at the destruction. He watched Marya, his weathered face alight with fierce approval. As their swords locked again in a screaming embrace of metal and darkness, the impact sent visible shockwaves rippling through the humid air, distorting the light like heat haze. The ground trembled, small pebbles dancing.
"Seems you're finally decidin' to play, girl," Rayleigh grunted, muscles straining against the obsidian hunger of Eternal Eclipse. The crimson runes along its length pulsed like angry stars.
Marya met his gaze, a bead of sweat tracing a path down her temple despite her controlled breathing. A smirk, tight and challenging, touched her lips. "Hardly, Gramps," she countered, her voice steady despite the titanic forces wrestling between their blades. "Just warming up. Wouldn't want you to pull something before you finish my sub." With a surge of strength that seemed to draw the light from the clearing towards her blade, she shoved.
Rayleigh skidded back a full yard, his sandals carving furrows in the mossy earth. He laughed, a rich, booming sound that momentarily drowned out the buzzing energy. "Arrogant pup! Just like Mihawk!" He didn't charge this time. He flowed. One moment he was ten feet away, the next his blade was a silver streak aimed at her ribs, faster than the eye could truly follow.
Marya pivoted, Eternal Eclipse a blur of devouring night intercepting the strike. The clash wasn't a single sound, but a rapid cacophony – CLANG-SCREECH-CLANG! – as they exchanged a flurry of blows faster than thought. Stray arcs of invisible force continued to lance outwards like lightning seeking earth. A chunk of mangrove bark exploded into sawdust near Atlas, making him yelp and leap sideways, blue sparks flaring defensively in his fur. Another arc sliced clean through a cluster of soap bubbles, leaving perfectly bisected hemispheres that wobbled absurdly before popping.
"Stabby-sparkles!" Jelly cheered, wobbling dangerously close to the edge of the root-bench. "Shiny boom-booms!"
Galit's long neck was coiled tight, his emerald eyes darting, analyzing the impossible speed. "Remarkable… she anticipates not the blade, but the intent in the Haki pulse milliseconds before the strike forms…"
Fia clutched Lulee closer, her knuckles white. "Is… is she truly alright? That force…"
Henrick placed a massive, reassuring hand on her shoulder, his own gaze fixed on the duel with profound respect. "They dance on the edge of annihilation, my pearl," he rumbled. "But watch her feet. Grounded. Balanced. She flows with his storm, doesn't fight it head-on."
Shakky took a long, slow drag, her sharp eyes missing nothing. The smoke curled lazily upwards, undisturbed by the chaotic energy swirling below, a silent testament to her unflappable calm. "Told you," she murmured, mostly to herself. "History and destiny. Neither yields easy."
Rayleigh pressed his attack, a relentless tide of experience. He feinted high, then swept low, aiming for Marya's legs. She leaped, tucking into a flip, Eternal Eclipse lashing out not at Rayleigh, but at the air beside him. A wave of crushing darkness erupted, forcing Rayleigh to break his own momentum and block the unexpected spatial distortion. The ground where her void-energy struck didn't crack – it imploded, leaving a shallow, bowl-shaped depression of pulverized earth and root fibers.
"Cheeky!" Rayleigh barked, but his grin was fierce. "Using the environment now?"
"Adapting," Marya shot back, landing lightly, already coiled for the next exchange. Her breath came faster now, a flush high on her cheeks beneath the sweat and focus. Her leather jacket was damp, the Heart insignia stark. "You're the one teaching expensive lessons. Just making sure I get my money's worth." She raised her blade, the obsidian drinking the dappled sunlight. "Still keeping up?"
Rayleigh settled back into his ready stance, his eyes alight with the pure, undiluted joy of the fight. "Try harder, Hawkeye's shadow. Let's see what surprises you really have." The buzzing pressure in the air intensified, promising only greater violence. The ancient grove shuttered, roots groaning under the strain of legends testing each other's limits.
*****
The humid stink of Sabaody's Grove 9 clung to Sentomaru like a second skin – brine, scorched wiring from the ruined auction tank, and the sour tang of fear from the scrambling Marines. His massive axe, Masakari, rested casually on his shoulder, its weight a familiar comfort. The colossal Pacifista beside him emitted a low, building thrum, its single crimson eye sweeping the chaotic dock with unnerving smoothness, hydraulic joints whispering as it tracked fleeing auction staff and panicked nobles. Shouts echoed, boots slapped wet pavement, and the harsh glare of Marine spotlights carved jagged shadows through the mangrove roots.
Then, Sentomaru felt it.
Not a sound, not a tremor he could place with his boots on the ground. It was a disturbance in the very air, a sudden, violent thrumming deep in his bones, like the world itself was a drumskin struck by a giant. It came from the direction of the deeper groves, inland. His brow, already etched with the lines of command and annoyance, furrowed deeply. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing against the grove's dappled gloom beyond the dock lights.
"Nani kore...?" he rumbled, the low vibration in his voice mirroring the strange sensation. What is this? It wasn't Devil Fruit energy. It felt… older. Wilder. A pressure that made the hairs on his thick forearms prickle. It reminded him of standing too close to the Admiral's during… disagreements. But rawer. Less contained. Like two storms colliding over the horizon.
"Lieutenant!" Sentomaru's voice cut through the din, sharp as Masakari's edge. A young officer skidded to a halt, saluting sharply, his face pale under his cap. "Sir!"
"Status on Groves 13 and 41?" Sentomaru demanded, his gaze still fixed inland, trying to pinpoint the fading echo of that immense pressure.
"Perimeter secured, sir! No vessels departing. Sweep teams report minor disturbances, nothing matching the… uh… scale of Grove 9, sir. Mostly scared locals and opportunistic looters." The lieutenant followed Sentomaru's gaze nervously. "Problem, sir?"
Sentomaru didn't answer immediately. He closed his eyes briefly, focusing. The strange thrumming was fading, but the memory of its intensity lingered, a phantom vibration in his joints. It felt like… like two titans testing each other's strength, their sheer will bleeding into the atmosphere and making the island itself groan. Haki. Immense, clashing Haki. But who? In Sabaody? Now?
A slow, predatory grin spread across Sentomaru's face, replacing the frown. This was more interesting than rounding up frightened fish. "Change of plans," he declared, hefting Masakari off his shoulder and planting its haft firmly on the wet stones. The sound was a decisive thud. "Something big's kickin' up dust deeper in. That weird buzzin' you probably felt in your teeth? That wasn't the Pacifista warming up."
The lieutenant blinked, unconsciously rubbing his jaw. He had felt a strange pressure headache moments ago…
"Vice Admiral Harlow wants the source of tonight's fireworks found," Sentomaru continued, his voice gaining a hard edge. "And I aim to deliver it gift-wrapped before she docks." He jerked his chin towards the looming Pacifista, its red eye now fixed on him, awaiting orders. "You! Big Guy! New orders. We're goin' huntin'. Follow my lead. Scan for high-energy signatures, structural vibrations… anything that feels like two volcanoes decidin' to argue."
The Pacifista's eye pulsed brighter, a low electronic warble emanating from its chest cavity as it processed the command. It pivoted smoothly, its massive frame surprisingly quiet on its heavy feet, now oriented towards the dense tangle of roots and pathways leading away from the devastated grove.
"Lieutenant," Sentomaru barked. "Hold the perimeter here. Keep things locked down tighter than a Sea King's gullet. Report anything unusual directly to me via Den Den. And I mean anything – weird noises, folks actin' jumpier than usual, sudden gusts of wind that smell like trouble." He started walking, Masakari resting easily on his shoulder again, his sandals crunching on debris. The Pacifista fell into step beside him, its heavy footfalls a counterpoint to Sentomaru's lighter tread, a rhythmic thud-whirr, thud-whirr that echoed in the suddenly quieter dock as Marines stopped to watch them go.
Sentomaru didn't look back. His eyes scanned the shadowed archways formed by colossal roots, the path ahead swallowed by darkness and the perpetual, soapy haze of Sabaody's bubbles. That immense, clashing pressure… it had come from somewhere in there. Grove 13 was Shakky's territory. Rayleigh was rumored to haunt these roots. And now this? A Haki storm strong enough to make the air itself feel bruised?
"Heh," he chuckled, a low, dangerous sound. "Old monsters playin' rough, eh? Or somethin' new and shiny makin' a mess?" The hunt Vice Admiral Harlow ordered had just gotten a lot more interesting. The prey wasn't just fleeing slavers anymore. Something powerful was flexing its muscles deep in the mangrove maze, and Sentomaru, with his living weapon at his side, was heading straight for the eye of the storm. The wet pavement gave way to packed earth and gnarled roots, the sounds of the dock fading behind them, replaced by the dripping canopy and the increasingly loud, focused hum of the Pacifista scanning the path ahead. The trap was sprung, alright. Sentomaru just wondered what kind of beast he was about to poke.
*****
The damp air in the glyph-covered cavern hung thick with the weight of Sabo's revelation and centuries of suffering etched into the stone. Koala stepped forward, her voice softer than Sabo's but carrying the same grim weight. "One of our best cryptographers managed a partial translation," she explained, pointing to a section depicting the completed bridge firing jagged beams of light towards stylized ships. "He believed it read: 'Bridge completion equals Marine super-weapon activation.' The carvings... they show it firing."
Charlie, however, was already crouched near the base of the wall, his magnifying glass scraping away centuries of grime and mineral deposits with the edge of his pith helmet. He traced lines invisible to others, his breath fogging in the chill. "Ahem!" he declared, startlingly loud in the silence. He straightened, adjusting his helmet with scholarly fervor. "Respectfully, Ms. Koala, your cryptographer is partially correct in identifying the destructive potential... but fundamentally mistaken in its nature!" He pointed a chalk-dusted finger at a complex, previously obscured symbol partially revealed by his scraping. "See this cartouche? Its root verb isn't 'release' or 'fire,' it's 'contain'! Or more accurately, 'bind'!"
He moved swiftly to another section, Bianca's small work-light clutched in his hand, illuminating deep grooves hidden under layers of sediment recently loosened by the violent storms. "These 'stress lexemes' – grammatical markers indicating constraint or suppression – were buried! They modify the entire passage!" Charlie's voice rose with academic passion. "The bridge isn't a cannon, Sabo! It's a lock! A colossal, sea-spanning prison lock! Completion doesn't activate a weapon... it releases what's imprisoned beneath the sea! A Void Century horror sealed away!" He gestured wildly at carvings depicting monstrous, shadowy forms straining against chains that seemed to merge with the bridge's foundations. "They weren't building transport... they were building the lid on a tomb!"
Aurélie moved like a shadow. Her hand clamped down firmly on Charlie's shoulder, not roughly, but with undeniable pressure. Her grey eyes, reflecting the flickering torchlight, held a silent, urgent command: Enough. No more secrets laid bare. Charlie's excited ramble cut off mid-syllable, his mouth snapping shut as he registered her warning.
Sabo noticed the intervention immediately. His gaze shifted from the electrified scholar to the stoic swordswoman. "Ease your concern, Nakano," he said, his voice calm but perceptive. "We understand discretion. But this... changes everything."
Aurélie met his gaze, her hand still resting on Charlie's shoulder. "Understanding the bridge's purpose is vital, Sabo," she conceded, her voice low and steady. "But our mission remains unchanged. We pursue our comrade. Every moment spent here is a moment she moves further beyond our reach. We cannot invest the time this translation demands, however... significant." The unspoken implication hung: Our secrets are our own.
Koala's hopeful expression dimmed. "Where are you headed? Perhaps we can still—"
"Elbaph," Kuro interjected smoothly, stepping forward before Aurélie could formulate a guarded response. He met Aurélie's sharp glare with a faint, infuriatingly smug quirk of his lips. "Our path leads to the Land of Giants. Urgently."
Sabo's eyes lit up, a genuine grin spreading across his face, banishing the grimness for a moment. "Elbaph? Now that's fortunate." He glanced between Aurélie, the still-silenced Charlie, and Kuro. "We have connections there. Deep roots. Maybe we can help each other out after all." He gestured towards the glyph-covered walls. "Charlie lends us his remarkable eyes and mind for a focused period – say, seventy-two hours – to verify his theory and pinpoint critical sections. In return, we dispatch a swift messenger via our channels to Elbaph immediately. We reach out to our contacts, inquire about your comrade's recent movements, and destination... anything that might aid your pursuit. Information for translation."
Aurélie's gaze snapped to Charlie, seeking silent confirmation, a gauge of the time required. But Charlie was already lost again, muttering to himself as he traced newly revealed stress lexemes with a grimy finger, completely absorbed. Bianca stepped closer to Aurélie, bumping her shoulder lightly. "Like, what do you think, Boss?" she whispered, her voice tight with the weight of the offer and the eerie prison surrounding them.
Aurélie watched Charlie, then scanned the expectant faces of the Revolutionaries, the smug Kuro, the watchful Souta, the distracted Ember. The dripping water echoed like a slowing heartbeat. Access to Revolutionary intelligence networks in Elbaph was an invaluable asset, potentially cutting weeks off their search. The risk was time and exposure, but the potential gain... She met Sabo's steady gaze.
"The terms are agreeable," Aurélie stated, her voice cutting through the cavern's whispers. "Seventy-two hours. Not a minute more. And your messenger departs within the hour."
Koala clapped her hands together, a sound like a gunshot in the stillness, her face breaking into a relieved smile. "Excellent! I'll make the call to the communications hub right now!" She darted towards a side tunnel, the urgency back in her step. The deal was struck. The hunt for Marya had just gained powerful, clandestine allies, but the price was delving deeper into the terrifying secret buried beneath Tequila Wolf, surrounded by revolutionaries and hidden enemies, with the clock ticking louder than the dripping water.