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Chapter 3 - When Angels fall, they hit hard

The giant Marine—easily fifteen feet tall and built like a walking fortress—charged through the marketplace with all the subtlety of a natural disaster. Vendor stalls exploded into splinters as he carved a direct path toward Atlas, who stood frozen in the center of what had been a peaceful shopping district.

"Atlas!" Marina grabbed his arm. "We need to run!"

"No," Atlas said quietly, his hazel eyes now burning pure gold. "I'm tired of running."

His Devil Fruit was responding to both the physical threat and his emotional state, flooding his system with adaptations. His muscles tensed as his body automatically adjusted to handle superhuman strength and speed. His senses sharpened until he could track every movement in the chaotic crowd. Most unnervingly, his presence began to change—something divine and otherworldly bleeding through his carefully maintained humble exterior.

"Listen up, you overgrown peacock!" the giant Marine roared, swinging a fist the size of a cannonball. "Vice Admiral Crusher is here to drag your pampered hide back to Mary Geoise!"

Atlas sidestepped the massive fist with fluid grace, his body having adapted to match his opponent's speed. "I appreciate the offer, Vice Admiral, but I'm rather busy learning to be a pirate!"

"Pirates don't say 'I appreciate the offer'!" Marina shouted from behind an overturned fruit cart.

"Still working on that part!" Atlas called back, ducking under another swing.

His Devil Fruit was cataloging Crusher's fighting style, strength level, and weaknesses with mechanical efficiency. Within seconds, Atlas could feel his body adapting: his bones densifying to withstand impact, his reflexes sharpening to superhuman levels, his strength increasing to match the giant's power.

But he forced himself to hold back. This was his test—could he handle a real fight without relying entirely on his overwhelming abilities?

"You can't hide what you are, boy!" Crusher's massive hand shot out like a striking snake. "World Nobles don't play pirate!"

"You're right," Atlas said, catching the giant's wrist with both hands. His white hair whipped around his face as power radiated from his small frame. "World Nobles don't. But I'm not a World Noble anymore."

He twisted, using Crusher's own momentum against him, and sent the giant stumbling past him into a stone fountain. The impact sent water exploding skyward like a geyser.

The crowd that hadn't fled was staring in shock. A teenager who barely came up to the giant's waist had just tossed around a Vice Admiral like he was made of paper.

"Impossible!" Crusher surged to his feet, water streaming from his uniform. "No pampered little prince has that kind of strength!"

"That's the beauty of adaptation," Atlas said, his voice carrying a strange double tone—still polite, but underlaid with something vast and dangerous. "I become exactly what I need to be."

He moved forward, no longer the fumbling ex-noble trying to play pirate. His Devil Fruit had adapted not just his physical abilities, but his fighting instincts, his tactical awareness, even his movement patterns. He was becoming the perfect counter to everything Crusher represented.

But as he raised his hand, now glowing with faint divine light, Marina's voice cut through the power haze surrounding him.

"Atlas! Is this who you want to be?"

He froze, hand inches from Crusher's face. The question hit him harder than any physical blow could have.

*Is this who I want to be? Someone who solves problems with overwhelming power? Someone who adapts until they're so far above their opponents that victory is meaningless?*

The golden light faded from his eyes, cycling back to green. The divine presence surrounding him diminished, returning him to a more human scale.

"You're right," he said softly, stepping back from the stunned Vice Admiral. "This isn't who I want to be."

Crusher, breathing heavily and looking thoroughly confused by the sudden power shift, struggled to his feet. "What... what are you playing at, boy?"

"I'm learning," Atlas said simply. "And right now, I'm learning that real strength isn't about becoming powerful enough to win any fight. It's about choosing which fights are worth having."

He turned to address the crowd that had gathered to watch the spectacle. "People of Loguetown! This Marine came here to drag me back to a life I don't want! But I won't solve that problem by beating him senseless, because that's exactly what the World Nobles would do!"

His voice carried across the square, and Atlas found himself speaking with genuine passion for the first time since arriving in town.

"I want to be a pirate because pirates are free! They choose their own crews, chase their own dreams, and protect what matters to them! But if I just use overwhelming power to get my way, then I'm still acting like a Celestial Dragon!"

Crusher was looking increasingly bewildered. "Are... are you giving a speech? In the middle of our fight?"

"Yes, and it's a very important speech!" Atlas replied cheerfully, his personality snapping back to its usual earnest enthusiasm. "You see, I've realized that—"

A gunshot cracked across the square.

Atlas spun toward the sound, his Devil Fruit instantly adapting his vision to track the bullet's trajectory. Time seemed to slow as he watched the projectile arc through the air, not toward him, but toward Marina.

Without conscious thought, Atlas moved. His body blurred across the distance between them, his Devil Fruit pushing his speed beyond human limits. He reached Marina just as the bullet arrived, catching it bare-handed in a grip that crumpled the metal like paper.

"Well," said a cold voice from a nearby rooftop. "That was disappointingly easy to predict."

The speaker dropped to street level with inhuman grace—a tall man in a dark coat, his face hidden behind a blank white mask. "Seraphim D. Atlas. By order of the World Government, you are to be terminated for treason against the Celestial Dragons."

Atlas felt his Devil Fruit power surge in response to this new threat, but he kept it carefully controlled. "And you are?"

"Codename: Judgment. World Government Special Operations." The masked figure's voice was emotionless, mechanical. "Your execution is authorized and imminent."

"Now hold on just a minute!" Crusher protested. "I'm trying to arrest him, not execute him!"

"Your mission has been superseded, Vice Admiral. Stand down."

Atlas looked between the giant Marine and the masked assassin, his mind racing. Then he grinned, that wild expression that transformed his entire face.

"Marina," he called without taking his eyes off Judgment. "How do you feel about joining a pirate crew right now? Because I think we're about to have a very exciting adventure."

Marina, still crouched behind the remains of her fruit cart cover, stared at him like he'd lost his mind. "Are you seriously trying to recruit me in the middle of a three-way fight with a Vice Admiral and a government assassin?"

"The best crews are forged in crisis!" Atlas replied happily. "So what do you say? Want to see what this former Celestial Dragon can really do when he's protecting his friends?"

His eyes blazed gold again, but this time the power felt different—not overwhelming and distant, but warm and protective. This wasn't adaptation for domination. This was adaptation for others.

"You're completely insane," Marina muttered.

Then she grinned.

"When do I start, Captain?"

****

Two chapters for the late post! Enjoy!

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