Chapter 2: A Debt of Convenience
The air in Level Six, already thick with the weight of forgotten time, now crackled with a new tension. Madara Uchiha paced the central walkway with the unhurried air of a lord surveying his domain. His steps were measured, the clack of his wooden geta on the stone floor a steady, unnerving rhythm in the tomb-like silence. He ignored the eyes watching him from the shadows of the cells, dismissing them as he would dismiss the gaze of insects.
He stopped before Crocodile's cell. The former Warlord met his gaze without flinching, his eyes narrowed slits of cunning calculation.
"You possess an interesting gaze," Madara began, his tone conversational, yet layered with condescension. "The eyes of a man who believes himself a king, yet finds himself in a cage. A common tale."
Crocodile let out a dry rasp of a laugh. "And you? You speak like a man who believes he holds the world in his palm. What tale is yours?"
"The tale of a man who does hold the world in his palm," Madara replied, the statement delivered as simple, indisputable fact. He moved on, his attention drifting to the next cell.
Jinbe stood respectfully, his large frame filling the space. "That power you wield... it is unlike anything I have ever witnessed," the fish-man said, his voice deep and resonant with genuine curiosity. "It is not the power of a Fruit, nor is it Haki."
"Haki? Fruit?" Madara paused, a flicker of intrigue in his eyes. "Quaint terms. What I wield is will. Pure, indomitable will, given form. A power you mortals could never comprehend." He looked from Jinbe to Ace, who was now on his feet, his chains rattling. "You all reek of ambition, yet you sit here and allow yourselves to decay. Pathetic."
"Easy for you to say!" Ace shot back, his temper flaring. "You're not the one bound in stone that saps your very strength!"
Madara's gaze settled on Ace, and for a moment, the temperature seemed to drop. It was a look of profound disappointment, as if a teacher were observing a student who had failed the simplest of tests. "Your chains are a physical restraint. Your true prison," he said, tapping his own temple, "is your weakness of spirit. If your will to be free were stronger than the stone that binds you, you would have already turned it to dust."
He sighed, a dramatic, weary sound. "However," he continued, turning to address all of them, his voice projecting through the hall. "The stench of this place offends my senses. And watching beasts rot in their cages, no matter how weak, is a tedious affair."
He raised his hand once more. The oppressive, soul-crushing pressure returned, tenfold. This time, the azure chakra did not form a hand. It erupted, roaring silently as it solidified into the upper torso of the Susano'o. The colossal, armored samurai of pure energy stared down with hollow, glowing eyes. It held a gargantuan blade of ethereal light in one hand, a sword that seemed to cut reality itself just by existing.
The prisoners gasped. Ace and Jinbe recoiled, their instincts screaming at the sheer magnitude of the power on display. Crocodile's eyes were wide, the façade of cool indifference finally cracking. This was not the power of a man. It was the power of a calamity.
With a motion that was impossibly swift for its size, the Susano'o swung its blade in a wide, horizontal arc.
SHIIING—
There was no sound of impact. Only a clean, silent shearing. The front of every single cell in the block, bars and stone alike, was sliced away as if it were parchment. The severed sections simply slid forward and crashed to the ground in a deafening cacophony of stone and metal, leaving every cell wide open.
The Susano'o dissolved as quickly as it had appeared, leaving Madara standing alone in its wake.
A stunned silence followed, broken only by the rattle of chains as Ace, Jinbe, and Crocodile hesitantly stepped out of their ruined cells. The other, more broken prisoners remained in the shadows, too terrified to move.
"We can use Haki to break the chains now!" Jinbe exclaimed, focusing his will. With a grunt, the Sea-Prism Stone cuffs on his wrists cracked and fell away. Ace and Crocodile followed suit, shattering their own restraints with bursts of raw spiritual energy.
Jinbe turned to Madara and bowed deeply, a gesture of profound respect. "I do not know who you are, stranger, but I am in your debt. My name is Jinbe."
Madara merely waved a dismissive hand. "Debt is a currency for the powerless. If you truly wish to repay me, then guide me out of this place. The air is growing staler by the second."
Crocodile chuckled, a dry, sandy sound. "I, for one, am all for leaving. Follow me. I know the way up." He took the lead without hesitation, his ambition reignited by this new, chaotic variable.
Ace hesitated for a moment, looking at the man who had freed him. There was no kindness in his eyes, only a terrifying, bottomless abyss of pride. Still, this was his only chance. He gave a curt nod and fell in line behind Jinbe.
The unlikely quartet began their ascent, leaving the darkness and the remaining prisoners of Level Six behind them.