Crackle
Above the ruins of Magic Valley Town, bonfires roared to life.
The once-bustling port city now lay in ruin, its streets littered with rubble and collapsed walls. The Marines had cleared away enough space among the broken stone and shattered beams to create a temporary camp. Fires burned high, licking against the massive bones of a fallen sea beast, its fat sizzling and dripping into the flames with sharp crackles that cut through the night.
Around the fire, groups of Marines sat shoulder to shoulder, tearing into roasted meat, their faces lit with exhaustion and relief. For the first time in days, their laughter and satisfied sighs filled the air.
"Mm...?"
From among the scattered tents, Zoro stirred. His eyelids fluttered open, his body still heavy with fatigue. Slowly, he pushed himself upright. Before he could even orient himself, a large, glistening hunk of golden-brown roasted meat was shoved right under his nose.
Sanji stood over him, his expression calm but firm. "Eat."
Though the two never stopped bickering, Sanji would never let a comrade starve not when it went against everything he stood for as a cook.
Zoro blinked at him, then took the meat without a word. The hunger gnawed at his stomach like a beast unleashed, and soon he was devouring the meal with savage bites.
The meat was succulent, perfectly seasoned, crisp on the outside and tender inside. The spices lingered just enough to awaken his dulled senses. As he ate, his memories slowly returned of the last desperate strike he had unleashed before collapsing.
That sword strike.
The one into which he had poured every ounce of his willpower and strength.
"Hey, curly-brow." Zoro's words came muffled around a mouthful of meat. "That last move I used before I blacked out... how did it go?"
Sanji lit a cigarette in silence. He took a long drag, exhaling twin streams of smoke from his nostrils before speaking, his tone deceptively flat yet edged with a bitterness he couldn't quite suppress.
"Hawk caught it... with two fingers. Snapped your blade of will like it was nothing."
Zoro froze mid-bite.
Sanji took another pull from his cigarette before grudgingly adding, "But... he did say your strike was better than he expected. His words were... you've gone from 'not bad' to 'pretty damn good.'"
A grin spread across Zoro's face. He let out a short laugh, almost disbelieving, but warm all the same. Recognition from Hawk a monster in human skin, a warrior who stood at the peak of the battlefield that meant more than any medal or title.
"..."
Sanji's hand tightened unconsciously around his cigarette. Why?
Why was it that when he nearly killed himself pushing his limits, Hawk had dismissed him as "a mess" and only after more effort grudgingly acknowledged him as "not bad"? And yet this moss-head... after one reckless strike, was praised as "very good"?
Zoro glanced up, noticing the darkening scowl spreading across Sanji's face. A sly smirk tugged at his lips. "What's wrong, 'a mess'?"
"Oi!" Sanji exploded, jabbing a finger at him. "I told you! It's 'not bad' now, got it? Not. Bad!"
"Hahaha..." Zoro's grin widened, deliberately dragging out the words. "Not bad, huh? Too bad. Because I... am now very good."
That was the final straw.
Sanji lunged forward, ripping the half-eaten slab of meat right out of Zoro's hands. "That's it! No more for you, bastard! Starve!"
Zoro blinked at his empty hands, shrugged, then stood up, brushing the dirt off his pants. He didn't bother arguing. His gaze drifted past the flames to the commanding figure at the center of camp.
Hawk.
Without hesitation, Zoro strode forward.
"Zoro," Hawk acknowledged as the swordsman approached, his keen senses already aware of him. He gestured to the ground beside him. "Sit."
Zoro obeyed. For a moment, he hesitated, then asked the question burning in his chest. "That strike... before I lost consciousness. How was it, really?"
Hawk tore free a golden, glistening leg of sea beast, tossing it to him without looking. His tone was casual, but the weight of his words was unmistakable.
"Very good. That blade nearly reached the level of a Headquarters Commodore. You've grown."
Zoro's breath caught. His eyes widened, blazing with excitement. Commodore. That rank meant power, respect, and the right to wear the cloak of Justice itself.
He imagined returning to Shimotsuki Village with that cloak draped across his shoulders, watching the younger swordsmen gape in awe. The thought alone nearly made him laugh out loud.
"Your will is already exceptional," Hawk continued, his gaze steady. "As for your swordsmanship... I only dabble. With your talent, I won't give half-formed advice. But..."
His tone shifted, hinting at deeper possibilities. "When we return to base, I'll find you proper teachers. Men and women whose blades are worth crossing. The Navy has no shortage of true masters."
Zoro's grip tightened around the meat in his hands, his chest swelling. To be taught by the great swordsmen of the Navy... this was more than he had ever dared to hope for.
"Thank you, Hawk," he said firmly, bowing his head.
"Enough of that," Hawk waved him off. "You're Dane's peer, aren't you? In private, call me brother. That's more fitting."
Zoro stiffened. Slowly, he lifted his head, meeting Hawk's gaze.
In those dark, unfathomable eyes, he found no trace of false courtesy, only unshakable sincerity.
"Yes... Hawk, big brother!"
The words left his lips with conviction. For the first time since joining the Navy, Zoro felt what it meant to belong. No longer wandering alone as a bounty hunter. No longer without direction. With Hawk guiding him, his every step had purpose.
And for that, Zoro swore he would repay this bond with everything he had.
"Whrrm..."
The earth shuddered.
The bonfire flames wavered unnaturally, flickering like candlelight in a draft.
Hawk's expression sharpened. He tilted his head, listening.
The rhythm of the sea had changed.
No longer the steady lap of waves against the shore, but a deep, muffled roar like the breath of some slumbering giant stirring in its sleep.
Then the ground trembled violently.
"Rumble "
From the horizon, the ocean itself convulsed. Before the stunned eyes of every Marine present, the surface bulged upward into a monstrous swell, a colossal dome of water rising as though the sea had been lifted by an invisible hand.
The bulge grew higher, broader, until it loomed like a mountain breaking free from the abyss.
"What the hell... is that?" one soldier gasped.
Panic rippled through the camp. Marines leapt to their feet, weapons clutched tightly, though none knew what to aim at.
Even Zoro, Sanji, and Smoker wore grim expressions. This was no natural phenomenon.
"All units, prepare to board the ships!" Hawk's voice cut through the chaos, steady and commanding. His eyes never left the swelling mass of water.
"Yes, sir!" came the unified shout.
The water dome burst.
With a deafening roar, the ocean erupted, a titanic column of seawater piercing the sky. It towered upward, shredding clouds, linking sea and heavens in a single unstoppable force.
The Rising Current.
Zoro's jaw dropped. He had heard of it in legends whispered across the seas, but never believed it real until now.
The infamous ocean current that could hurl entire ships into the sky Knock Up Stream.
Hawk planted himself firmly at the prow of the flagship, his cloak snapping in the gale. His voice rang out, resolute and unyielding.
"Helmsman! Steer us toward that current! Get this ship over there!"
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