(Early chapter.)
Mariejois, 4 years ago.
The Holy Land of Mariejois glistened violently under the harsh moonlight—a city of extravagant wealth built on the corpses of the oppressed. Beneath its towering marble structures and gleaming golden domes lay a hellish slave quarter: a labyrinth of cages, collars, and suffocating silence.
Lila curled into the corner where the stone walls met, pulling her knees to her chin. The iron collar clinked against the floor as she shifted, reopening the scabs on her wrists. She didn't flinch. When she breathed too deeply, the welts across her back pulled tight, so she kept her breaths shallow. Her stomach had stopped growling three days ago.
A single beam of moonlight cut through the bars, painting a silver rectangle on the packed dirt. Outside, branches scraped against stone as the wind picked up. Lila tilted her head, listening.
"You are the wind, Lila." Her mother's voice from years ago, fingers gentle on her cheek, wiping away tears after the neighborhood children had pushed her into the mud. "You cannot be caged forever."
Lila's fingernail traced a line in the dirt, then another, until she'd drawn a crude bird. She stared at it for a long while before smudging it away with her palm.
"Then why am I still here?" The words cracked in her throat, unused for so long.
The guards staggered through the courtyard, their senses dulled by the intoxicating haze of alcohol. It was a Celestial Dragon's birthday, and the sky was ablaze with fireworks, vibrant bursts of color illuminating the night while the distant echoes of terrified screams reverberated from the depths below. Lila moved like a shadow, her presence barely more than a whisper in the chaos. Every patrol route and blind spot had been meticulously memorized, each step driven by an unquenchable fury that burned within her, a rage that had fractured something deep inside.
In the vault, she found her target: a Devil Fruit, nestled within a glass case. The orb was a pale blue; its surface adorned with swirling storm patterns, each line pulsing faintly as if imbued with its own heartbeat. Without a moment's hesitation, Lila smashed the glass with forceful resolve. The alarms that blared were nothing but distant noise to her now, the clamor irrelevant. Ignoring the pain of shards slicing into her skin, she sank her teeth into the fruit.
The taste was a violent surge, a mixture of salt and electric fury that coursed through her veins. Her body convulsed, vision distorted into a dizzying blur as her lungs seized with excruciating pain. And then, with a primal roar, the wind surged to life around her.
The guards found her crumpled in the courtyard, her body racked with heaving breaths. "You filthy rat—!" one guard shouted, raising his whip high. But before the leather could crack against her skin, Lila's head snapped up, her eyes transformed into fathomless pools of inky black. She lifted her hand with a calm that belied the storm within.
"Don't," she commanded. Her throat felt funny because she never made her tone sound like that. She felt like she was acting in a play.
A ferocious gust of wind erupted from her core, hurling the guard backward through the air. His body collided with a pillar, the impact resounding with a sickening crunch. The remaining guards stood paralyzed, disbelief and terror etched on their faces.
Lila rose, the tempest swirling around her like a living cloak of wrath and power. "You will never lay a hand on me again," she vowed, her words a promise of retribution.
Her gaze shifted to the slave cells, and with a mere thought, the doors burst open, and chains disintegrated into dust. The wind howled through the corridors, a force of liberation and vengeance.
Children blinked against the harsh intrusion of daylight, their eyes watering as they stepped from their world of shadows. Men and women stumbled into the open, their voices caught in their throats, silenced by sheer disbelief.
Lila's voice cut through the tumult, sharp and unyielding. "Run. Or fight. But do not kneel."
The guards rallied, rifles raised, their faces set in grim resolve. Lila stood firm, an immovable force against their advance. "Tempest Cage," she declared, her voice a harbinger of the storm to come.
A violent vortex erupted around her, swirling with a ferocious energy that tore through the room like a tempest. Soldiers were hurled against the marble walls with such brutal force that their blood splattered and streaked the pristine surface in vivid crimson patterns. The Celestial Dragons, perched high above on their opulent thrones, shrieked in terror, their faces twisted in a grotesque display of fear.
Lila's eyes, as sharp and cutting as a finely honed blade, fixed on them with unwavering intensity. "You stole everything from me. Now I will strip you of everything," she declared, her voice resonating with a chilling determination.
Buzz, a boy whose skin bore the permanent marks of burn scars, his eyes alight with a fierce rage, spotted a rifle lying abandoned on the ground. With swift, decisive movements, he picked it up. Inspired by his defiance, others soon followed suit, the chains of their enslavement falling away as they transformed into warriors ready to reclaim their freedom. The palace quickly turned into a chaotic battlefield, filled with the sounds of clashing weapons and cries of defiance.
Lila moved through the turmoil like a hurricane—silent, unstoppable, merciless. Her presence commanded the space, her actions precise and unyielding.
In the shadowy depths of the lower cells, she discovered them—the youngest captives. They were too small to flee, too broken to muster even a whisper of resistance. She knelt beside a girl with haunting silver eyes, her voice low and fierce as she spoke, "You are not an object. You are not a weapon. You are free."
The girl reached out hesitantly, her fingers trembling with fear and uncertainty. Lila grasped them firmly, offering a grip that was both strong and reassuring.
They reached the edge of the Red Line, where the sea crashed violently against the cliffs below, and the sky was a tumultuous mass of smoke and fury. Lila turned to face the others—dozens of them, battered and barefoot, standing on the precipice of freedom for the first time. "Jump," she urged.
They hesitated, fear and doubt holding them back. Without a moment's pause, Lila leaped off the cliff, her body slicing through the air without a backward glance. The wind embraced her, carrying her like a long-lost friend, and she soared.
Inspired by her courage and driven by desperation, the others followed her lead, their bodies propelled by the courage they had only just discovered.
Days passed, and they arrived on a remote island nestled within the Calm Belt. Lila collapsed onto the sand, her body spent and exhausted, yet her spirit remained unbroken. The others gathered around her, their eyes filled with a mixture of uncertainty and hope for the future.
Buzz knelt beside her, his voice a quiet question amidst the silence, "What now?"
Lila's eyes fluttered open, her voice raw and fierce despite the pain coursing through her body. Her spirit burned bright with determination. "Now we make sure they never do this to anyone again," she vowed, igniting a spark of resolve within the hearts of those around her.