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The sun of the eighth day rose, and the air on the island, usually so still and peaceful, felt heavy. It was charged with the oppressive, silent weight of departure.
Aster, Eris, and Xebec stood on the white sand of the cove, the very same spot where Xebec had arrived a week prior. The week had been a test for Aster. He was covered in a fading tapestry of bruises, his small hands were wrapped in clean bandages courtesy of his mother, and his golden eyes, though tired, were sharper. They held a new, hard-won focus.
"The week is over," Xebec said, his voice a low rumble. He wasn't smiling his manic grin; his expression was serious, the look of a captain giving his final orders. He crouched down, forcing his one-year-old son to meet his intense gaze.
"You remember the promise, boy." It was not a question.
"Haki," Aster replied immediately, his voice still soft but now carrying a new, firm edge. "Every day."
"It's the first law," Xebec said, nodding once, a sharp, satisfied gesture. "That fruit," he jabbed a thumb toward the cottage where the dark object waited, "will give you a cannon. Haki is the iron to build it, the powder to fire it, and the will to aim it. Never forget that."
He stood to his full, towering height, casting a long shadow over them in the morning light. "I have... business. The world is moving, and I have to move with it. I'll be back."
Eris, who had been standing silently by, her arms crossed, finally spoke. "When?" Her voice was tight.
Xebec looked at her, his expression softening for the first time that morning. "It's not a short trip. But I will be back. Around his third birthday. I promise."
"A year and a half," Eris whispered. It was a long time. It was a lifetime. "You're a fool, Xebec. You'll get yourself killed."
"I'm Rocks D. Xebec," he replied, as if that explained everything. He stepped toward her, his wildness giving way to a simple, human tenderness that was almost more jarring. "I've been 'getting myself killed' for thirty years. I'm just too stubborn for it to stick."
He pulled her into his arms, and she melted against him, her face buried in his heavy coat. "Keep him safe, Eris. Teach him what you know."
"I always do," she mumbled into his chest. "You just... you just keep yourself safe. That's the part I'm worried about."
He let out a low laugh. "That's what I have you for." He tilted her chin up and gave her a quick, hard peck on the lips. A kiss that was part promise, part farewell, and all possession.
He released her and turned back to Aster, who had been watching the entire exchange with his usual, serious focus.
"One last lesson, kid," Xebec said. His grin was back, but it was different. It was the grin of a conqueror about to show off his crown. "A demonstration."
He reached, not for the ironwood axe, but to his side, where a massive hilt was strapped. Aster hadn't even seen it before, hidden as it was by the folds of his greatcoat. Xebec's hand closed around the grip, and he drew.
The sound was a clean, sharp shing of steel. The sword was surprisingly simple, almost humble, a stark contrast to the man who wielded it. It was a saber, or perhaps a naval cutlass, with a long, slightly curved, single-edged blade. The hilt was purely practical, featuring a simple crossguard and a D-shaped knuckle-bow that curved down to protect the hand. It was a soldier's weapon, a pirate's tool. Yet, in his grasp, the plain steel seemed to thrum with an eager, malevolent energy, as if impatient to be used.
"Watch me, Aster," Xebec commanded. He settled into a low, powerful stance as the tip of the blade suddenly turned pitch black and pointed at the empty sky. "Watch this, and remember it. Remember what I am. Remember what you will be."
The world went silent. Eris, her face pale, grabbed Aster's small shoulder and took a hurried step back, her own silver aura flickering to life around them like a protective shield.
Xebec's will exploded. It was not the crushing pressure of Haoshoku that Aster had felt before. This was... more. It was focused, sharpened to an impossible edge. Black-red lightning, the unmistakable sign of a supreme king's Haki, began to crackle and spark around him, climbing the length of the black blade until the massive sword was wreathed in a storm of pure, dark power.
He grinned, his teeth bared, his eyes burning with a wild, ecstatic, terrifying joy. He looked at the world as if it were an opponent.
"This," he roared, his voice itself a shockwave, "is what it means to be the strongest!"
He swung. A simple, horizontal swing, aimed at nothing but the empty horizon.
"Collapse!!!!!"
The sound was not a 'swoosh.' It was the sound of the world breaking.
A wave of pure, condensed, black-red energy, a crescent of absolute destruction, erupted from the blade. It did not travel on the sea; it tore a trench through reality itself.
The sky above them split.
The clouds, which had hung motionless for months, were not pushed aside. They were obliterated, sliced apart in a perfectly straight line that stretched from one horizon to the other. The very air seemed to crackle and tear, as if the fabric of the world had been ripped open.
Below, the unnervingly flat, glassy surface of the Calm Belt exploded. The water was cleaved in two. A massive, gaping canyon opened in the ocean, a raw, temporary trench so deep that for a single, horrifying instant, Aster could see the dark, muddy seabed far below. Then, the vertical walls of water, miles high, crashed back in on themselves with a sound like the end of the world.
The shockwave, the aftermath of the attack, slammed into the island. It was a hurricane of pure force, bending the stout palm trees to their very roots and blasting a cloud of sand and spray across the cove.
Eris was kneeling, her silver aura flaring, a perfect dome around her and Aster, protecting them from the shrapnel and the blast. But Aster was not cowering.
He was standing, his small legs braced, his golden eyes wide, his entire being focused. He had pushed his new, bruises-earned Observation Haki to its absolute, screaming limit. He hadn't just seen the attack. He had felt it.
He had felt the avalanche of his father's will. He felt the sheer, arrogant, joyful captain who forced the world to break. It was not an attack on the world; it was an order to the world. And the world, the sea, the sky. They had obeyed.
He was shaking from head to toe, not with fear, but with a profound, earth-shattering awe. He had seen the Sea Kings. He had seen his mother's silent, protective power.
This was different. This was breaking the rules.
His mind, small and still developing, formed a single, crystal-clear thought.
Is... is this... the world's strongest?
In the ringing silence that followed, Xebec turned back. The sky was torn. The sea was a churning, chaotic mess. He, however, was breathing normally, not even a flush of exertion on his face.
He grinned at his son, whose small face was a mask of pure, unadulterated shock.
"You felt that, didn't you, kid?" he rumbled, his voice full of pride. "That's what true Haki can do. That's my Haki. Poured into a blade."
He pointed the dripping tip of the greatsword at Aster.
"Here's your homework. Replicate that. In your own way. By the time I get back, I want to see you split the sky."
He didn't care that he was giving an impossible task to a child who was barely walking. He wasn't asking. He was telling.
Aster, his mind still vibrating from the echo of that monstrous power, stared up at the giant who was his father. He swallowed, his throat dry, and nodded once. "Yes."
"Zehahahaha! Good boy!" Xebec sheathed his monstrous sword. The dark, malevolent aura vanished. The god of destruction was gone. In his place stood... Dad.
He walked to the edge of the water, the roiling waves lapping at his boots.
"Xebec, wait!" Eris yelled, her voice suddenly high and frantic. She ran up to him, her protective Haki gone, her face a mess of emotions: pride, terror, and exasperation.
"You idiot!" she shouted, and Aster could feel the wave of pure, unfiltered panic coming off her. "Are you even listening to me? You have to take care of yourself! And for god's sake, bathe! Daily! I'm not kidding, I can't have you smelling like that! It's disgusting!"
Xebec just laughed.
"And save your money!" she continued, her voice cracking. "Don't let Newgate or that giant idiot Kaido rope you into another drinking contest! You always lose! And you must change your clothes! You can't just wear that coat for a solid year, Xebec! You'll... you'll..."
She stopped, her tirade running out of steam, her shoulders slumping. She took a shuddering breath. "And... always remember... I love you, Xebec."
The wildness in his eyes softened. He reached out and cupped her face. "I know. I love you, Eris. You and the boy. You're the only two things in this whole damn world that are real."
He gave her one last, quick smile, turned to Aster, and gave a sharp, two-fingered salute. "Be strong, little warrior."
And with a final, booming "Zehahaha!", he dove headfirst into the Calm Belt. A moment later, a powerful, human-sized torpedo could be seen cutting through the churning water, leaving a long, white wake as he swam, impossibly, away.
Aster and Eris stood on the ravaged beach, watching until the wake was just a faint disturbance on the horizon. The thunder of the attack was gone. The echo of his laugh was gone.
The island was silent.
And the silence was awful. It was vast, cold, and achingly empty.
Aster looked up at his mother. She was standing perfectly still, her arms wrapped around herself, just staring at the empty sea. Her face was a stony, brave mask, but silent tears were streaming down her cheeks, dripping off her chin.
Using his Haki, Aster could feel her. The emotion was a deep, aching, hollow sadness. It was a cold, lonely feeling that made his own chest feel tight. He didn't know what to do. He wasn't a child for babbling comfort.
So he did what he knew.
He toddled over, his small legs unsteady in the disturbed sand. He reached up and grabbed his mother's hand. His own small, calloused, bandaged hand could only wrap around two of her fingers. He didn't say anything. He just... held on. And stood with her, a tiny, solid anchor against her grief.
Eris flinched, startled, and then looked down. Her tear-streaked face broke into a watery, wobbly, loving smile.
"Oh, Aster," she whispered, her voice thick. She scooped him up with her free arm, holding him tight against her chest. "My little warrior. He's... he's a lot, isn't he?"
Aster rested his head on her shoulder. "He's loud."
She let out a choked, wet laugh. "Yes. Yes, he is." She kissed the top of his head, breathing in his scent. "Come on. No training today. I think... I think we've had enough for one day. Today, we're going to find all the blue shells on the beach. And then you can help me in the garden. And... we'll just be quiet. How about that?"
Aster just nodded, his small hand still clinging to her shirt.
They spent the rest of the day in a bubble of shared, healing silence. They collected shells. He "helped" her water the vegetables, which mostly involved him patting the mud. She told him stories, simple, safe ones about the colorful crabs and the funny-looking birds. They ate an early dinner, the oppressive silence of the cottage slowly turning back into the familiar, comfortable silence of home.
Eris tucked him into his small bed, the exhaustion of the week and the emotional weight of the day finally pulling him under. He was asleep almost instantly.
The next morning, the sun rose. The grief of yesterday had faded, replaced by a quiet, shared resolve. The routine was back.
But first, there was one last piece of business.
Aster and Eris stood on the beach, the sand smoothed by the tide. In Eris's hands, she held the black, cracked, pulsing Devil Fruit.
"Yesterday was for your father," she said, her voice calm and strong once more. "His path is loud, and violent, and... his. Today is for you, Aster. This is your path. Your choice. And it starts right now."
She crouched, holding the awful-looking fruit out to him.
"It will taste terrible," she said, her smile small but encouraging. "The sea will hate you for it. You will lose your ability to swim. But it will give you power. A power that, as your father said, was destined for you. Do you still want it?"
Aster looked at the fruit. Its faint, hateful pulsing seemed to call to him.
...Ready?
It seemed to whisper in his mind, cowed and respectful now.
He thought of the Sea Kings. He thought of his mother's silver dome. And he thought of the sky, torn in two by his father's will. He wanted to be strong. He wanted that.
"Yes."
He took the heavy, hot fruit from his mother. It was surprisingly dense. He looked up at her one last time. She nodded, her face full of a brave, trusting love.
He raised the fruit to his mouth, opened his small jaw as wide as he could, and took a massive bite.
The taste was not just bad. It was an assault.
It was like biting into a log of pure, compacted ash, soaked in acid and rotten meat, and then left in the sun for a week. It was disgusting.
He gagged instantly, his entire small body recoiling. He wanted to spit it out, to throw the fruit into the sea. But he looked at his mother. He thought of his promise. He chewed.
He forced the vile, pulpy, ashen-tasting piece of fruit down his throat.
The moment he swallowed, the world changed.
The internal thump-thump he had always felt from the fruit didn't just get louder. It exploded. The ancient, dark voice roared in his head, but it was not a command. It was not a plea.
It was a triumphant, terrifying welcome.
WE ARE ONE.
A wave of information, of dark, ancient, hungry power, slammed into his consciousness. It was too much. The world tilted, the blue sky turned to black, and Aster's golden eyes rolled back in his head.
His consciousness faded, and he fell onto the soft, white sand.
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