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This chapter is kinda long, so enjoy it😁
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The moment Aster swallowed, the world vanished.
His small body, which had stood defiant against his father's Conquer Haki, went completely limp. His golden eyes rolled back, and he collapsed onto the white sand, his consciousness snuffed out like a candle.
"Aster!" Eris's cry was a raw, terrified shriek that shattered the island's silence. She lunged, snatching his small, inert form from the sand. "No... no, Aster, wake up! Please!"
She held him, her hands trembling, her own Observation Haki flaring as she desperately searched for his spirit, his will. But it was gone, pulled into a place she could not follow. All she could feel was the presence of a new, ancient, and terrifyingly dark power radiating from her son's body.
The old texts, the legends passed down in her family, had called this fruit 'The Consuming End.' They spoke of its will as a curse that broke its wielders, a void that swallowed their very souls. And she had just fed it to her child.
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Aster's consciousness drifted in a hot, oppressive darkness. The smell of sulfur and ozone filled his senses. He found himself standing not on sand, but on a floor of smooth, cracked obsidian. It was an immense cavern, a throne room for giants, lit only by the dull, angry orange of magma flowing in deep fissures.
He was not afraid. He was curious.
"...Approach, vessel..."
The voice was no longer a whisper in his head. It was real, a deep, grinding sound that vibrated through the volcanic glass beneath his feet.
It was coming from the center of the vast chamber.
But there was no giant on a throne.
Instead, there was... a creature.
It was a small being, barely taller than Aster's ironwood training axe. It was a being of pure, bright, flickering flame, its body a mass of what looked like furious, fluffy fur, all of it ablaze. A long, lashing tail of fire swished behind it. It possessed two sets of dark, curling horns, a comically furious scrunched-up face, and large, glowing teal-green eyes.
It looked less like a demon and more like a really angry animal. In one paw, it clutched a small, glowing sword made of an identical, bright fire.
This was the source of the ancient, terrifying voice? This was the dark power his father had hunted?
Aster, a child who had faced down Sea Kings and his father's world-breaking power without flinching, processed this new reality. His 1.5-year-old mind formed a single, simple, and honest conclusion.
"You're... cute," he said, his soft voice swallowed by the immense, hot chamber.
(THE IMAGE)
The world exploded.
The small, fiery creature vibrated. It swelled to twice its size, which was still small, its flaming "fur" standing on end. The heat in the cavern instantly intensified, blasting Aster with the force of an open furnace, and the small fire-sword it held ignited into a roaring pillar of flame.
"CUTE?!"
It shrieked, its voice a high-pitched, furious whistle, like a teakettle reaching its peak.
"CUTE?! I AM THE SCOURGE OF THE VOID! I AM THE FIRE OF THE END! I AM THE INFERNAL WILL OF A DYING STAR! I AM THE BEAST OF BRINGS RAGNAROK! I AM... I AM... I AM NOT CUTE!"
It stamped its small, fiery foot, sending a web of tiny cracks through the obsidian floor.
Aster was unmoved. His father was louder. He simply waited, his golden eyes watching the small, furious spirit with polite curiosity. When the creature's tirade finally wound down, its small chest heaving with hot, panting breaths, Aster spoke again.
"Sorry."
The spirit froze. Its sword, which had been waving manically, drooped. Its angry teal eyes widened.
"...What?"
"I'm sorry," Aster repeated, his voice clear in the sudden silence. "For being mean. And for ignoring you when you were in the fruit. My mom says you shouldn't be mean to people, even if they're loud. Unless they do bad things. You were just loud."
He looked at the small, baffled creature, a being of pure, ancient fire, and offered it a new name.
"So I'm sorry. Flamey."
There was a silence so loud that the hiss of the distant magma rivers seemed deafening. The spirit, the self-proclaimed 'Scourge of the Void', just stared. Its jagged, fiery mouth, which had been set in a furious scowl, was now a perfect, round 'O' of pure, baffled shock.
Its eye twitched.
(Spirit's Internal Monologue)
FLAMEY?!
FLAMEY?! IT CALLED ME... FLAMEY?!
WHAT... WHAT IN THE ACTUAL, ETERNAL, VOID-CURSED FUCK IS HAPPENING?!
Okay. Okay. Calm down. You are the Scourge. You are the End. You are the infernal will. You are... You are... COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY LOST.
THIS IS A NIGHTMARE. THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY EIGHT-HUNDRED-YEAR LIFE.
Let's review. For EIGHT HUNDRED YEARS, I've been waiting. Stuck in that... that fruit, waiting for the bloodline to align, for a vessel to be born who could actually hear me. And then, finally, that walking, Haki-infested natural disaster, Rocks D. Xebec, finds me. And he brings me here. To him. My vessel.
And I'm excited! I'm thinking, 'Great! A blank slate! A child of the D. bloodline, with that lineage? We're going to burn the world! It's going to be glorious!'
And then... AND THEN... the first shock hits. I give my big, scary 'Destiny!' speech. And the brat... the fetus...HEARS ME. Not just a 'feeling.' Not just a 'dark impulse.' He hears my words. His parents? That silver-haired monster of Observation Haki-control and that other monster? They think this is normal!
"Oh, he senses emotions! It's just his Observation Haki!"
THAT'S NOT OBSERVATION, YOU LUNATICS! THAT'S THE VOICE OF ALL THINGS! THE THING THAT JOY-FUCKING-BOY HAD TO BE A GROWN-ASS MAN TO USE! YOUR SON IS ONE AND A HALF YEARS OLD AND IS CASUALLY USING A MYTHICAL POWER TO... to... to LISTEN TO ME!
WHAT KIND OF MONSTERS DID YOU TWO EVEN SPAWN?!
Okay. Okay. Fine. He's a prodigy. That's good. That's better. He's strong. He'll be the perfect host. He will be my ultimate wielder.
So I give him the command. The 'EAT ME!' It's the big one. I've broken thousands of wills with that. It's an order backed by destiny itself! No one can resist the call!
AND HE SAYS. NO.
HE SAYS. "NOPE."
HE SAYS. "MY MOM TOLD ME NOT TO EAT WEIRD THINGS."
.......
WHO... WHAT... HOW?! I am the consuming end! I am the fire that remakes the world! And I was just... DENIED... for a household rule!
But fine! Fine! He's a stubborn one. Like his father. That's... that's good! That's... strong. So he finally eats me. But first, the sword incident. I try to guide him. "A sword, vessel. It's elegant. It's worthy. It matches my whole aesthetic!" And what does he say? WHAT DOES THIS BRAT, THIS... THIS... AXE-CHILD SAY?!
"NOPE. AXE IS COOLER."
I... I just... I've had wielders who were idiots. I've had wielders who were cowards. I have never, in my eight-hundred-year existence, had a wielder who was a toddler design critic.
AND NOW! NOW! We're here! The pact! The merging! This is the moment I seize his will, I brand his soul, I set him on the path of dark, fiery glory! This is where he should be begging me for power! Where he should be furious that I've shackled him to this fate! He should be in awe of me! He should be terrified!
And he walks into my throne room. My throne room of dread. He looks at me, the Inferno King... calls me...
CUTE...
...and then...
...and then he APOLOGIZES FOR BEING MEAN. BECAUSE HIS MOMMY TOLD HIM IT'S BAD MANNERS.
...I... I think... I'm... I'm kind of...happy?
His... his apology... He... he's talking to me. Like... like I'm a person. Like 'Flamey.' Not a fruit. Not a tool. Not a 'power-up.' His monster father literally told him I was just a tool. But he's... he's apologizing. To me.
NO! Get a grip! You are a dark and ancient power! You are not... 'touched.' You are not... 'crying'... No, those are just... fire... fire tears. It's hot in here. SHUT UP.
Maintain the persona. You are doom. You are... you are... you are so, so confused. But you are DOOM.
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Flamey cleared his throat, a sound like a small campfire crackling. He puffed out his fluffy, fiery chest, trying desperately to regain his lost intimidation.
"...Your... apology... is... noted, vessel."
He pointed his little fire-sword at Aster.
"You are correct. I am... loud. But that is because of what I am."
The spirit's voice dropped, deepening as it tried to reclaim its lost grandeur.
"I am the spirit of the Devil Fruit you consumed. I am its will. Its consciousness. My name... my true name... is the Hito Hito no Mi, Model: Hrrssstk...VRTURR..."
The name was a garbled, fiery hiss, a sound of static and collapsing stars that Aster's young mind could not comprehend
.
"What?" he asked.
The spirit sighed, a gust of hot, sulfurous air that ruffled Aster's hair.
"...Nevermind. You are not ready for that. It's... too big. You may know me by the name the world has given: the Mera Mera no Mi: Model Inferno. It's my so-called 'unawakened' name."
"Mera Mera? Like fire?" Aster asked.
"Like fire, yes. But not, "
Flamey corrected, pacing back and forth, his tail lashing.
"Your fruit is a Paramecia type, boy. At least, till you are strong enough. Not a Logia. Many in the world will call it... inferior to the true Mera Mera no Mi. They will be fools. Fools who burn!"
He was yelling again, but seemed to catch himself.
"The Logia allows a man to become fire, " he explained, his voice becoming that of a teacher.
"They are nature. They can be doused. My power... our power... is different. It is better!"
A small, black-red flame, no bigger than Aster's hand, ignited on the tip of the spirit's free, fluffy claw. It was a deep, dark, angry ember that seemed to absorb the light in the cavern.
"This is Inferno."
Flamey rumbled, his voice filled with pride.
"A flame that does not obey the rules of the world. It is a flame that clings. It will not be extinguished by water. It will not be put out by the wind. It will burn anything. It is the flame of consumption."
He continued, the lesson for the new wielder.
"When you first summon it, it will be small, like this. And it will burn... cold."
"Cold fire?" Aster asked. This was a new, interesting concept.
"A cold that seeps into the soul," Flamey said, his voice growing grand. "But it is a predator. The longer it remains lit, the hotter it will grow. It will feed on the very thing it touches, growing in intensity until it is hotter than the sun itself. It is not the fire of nature. It is the fire of the end!"
The power sounded... strong. Aster approved.
The spirit leaned back on his heels, his lesson over.
"This is the power you now wield, Aster of the Rocks. A power to consume all."
A beat of silence passed. The spirit glanced at its own fire-sword, then back at Aster, attempting to look casual.
"...A power, " he said, his voice laced with suggestion, "that would be... magnificently... channeled by a long, sharp, elegant... SWORD. Just like mine! See? Looks cooooool right????"
He held it up, wiggling it hopefully.
Aster stared at the sword. He thought of his father's simple, plain saber. He thought of his own heavy, ironwood axe.
"But if a sword is good," he replied logically, "then an axe will be even better."
Flamey's eye twitched. The end of his fiery tail hit the obsidian floor with a small thud. A wave of pure frustration rolled off him.
"...FINE!" he roared, the cavern shaking.
"FINE! AN AXE IT IS! Axes are... good! They're... They're brutal! They have weight! I... I know things about axes! I can work with that! FINE!"
He was panting again, clearly exhausted by the sheer, stubborn wrongness of his new host. He sheathed his fire-sword, which simply vanished, and crossed his fluffy arms.
"You are weak, vessel. This merging has exhausted your tiny consciousness. Go back. Your mother is worried."
A powerful, irresistible pull began to tug at Aster, pulling his consciousness back from the dark, hot void.
"It was nice to meet you, Flamey," Aster said politely, as the world began to fade to black.
"Just... just tell her..." the spirit called out, its voice suddenly losing all its bluster.
"Tell your mother... that I have 'DEEMED YOU WORTHY ENOUGH FOR THE PACT.' She'll know what that means. It's... important. It'll... stop her from worrying... Probably."
"Okay. I look forward to working with you," Aster replied, using the phrase his mother used when she made a plan.
The spirit's entire, fluffy, fiery body seemed to ignite, turning a brighter, more intense shade of red.
"YEAH! YEAH! WHATEVER! GO NOW! AND STOP... STOP BEING SO... POLITE! IT'S WEIRD!"
Flamey spun around, turning his back on Aster, his little tail lashing.
And Aster was gone.
"...ter! Aster! Oh, gods, Aster, wake up! Please!"
Aster's eyes snapped open. The world was a blinding wash of blue sky and white sand. The sun was hot on his face. His mother was leaning over him, her face a mask of pale terror, her hands shaking as she gripped his shoulders. He could feel her panic, a cold, sharp, jagged aura that was worse than any of Flamey's yelling.
"I'm fine, Mom," he mumbled. His mouth still tasted like ash.
Eris let out a sound, a half-sob, half-gasp of pure relief and crushed him in a hug, her arms wrapping around him so tightly he could barely breathe.
"You... you were gone," she whispered, her voice trembling as she rocked him back and forth. "Your eyes... you were just... gone. For five minutes. Oh, my baby, what did it do to you? The old texts... the stories... they said the will of that fruit was a... a curse. An ending."
"It's okay," Aster said, his voice muffled in her shoulder. "I met him. The spirit."
She pulled back instantly, her hands still gripping his arms. Her eyes were wide with a new fear. "You... you met it? What was it? A monster? A shadow? A void? Did it... did it try to hurt you?"
"No," Aster said, shaking his head. "He was just... loud. And little. And fluffy. And he got mad when I called him cute."
Eris's panicked, terrified expression... just... froze.
"...Fluffy?" she whispered, her voice reedy. "...Cute?"
"Yeah. And he's got this little fire-sword," Aster explained, as if it were all perfectly normal. "And I said sorry for being mean, and he got all weird. And he told me his name is the 'Mera Mera no Mi: Model Inferno.' And he really wants me to use a sword, but I said an axe is cooler, and he got mad, but he said, 'fine.' And... Oh."
He remembered the most important part.
"He told me to tell you. He said... he 'deemed me worthy enough for the pact.' He said you'd know what that means."
Aster watched his mother's face. It was like watching a storm break. The lingering fear, the confusion, the terror of the ancient legends, all vanished. Her eyes widened, her hands flew to her mouth, and a look of such profound, total shock and relief washed over her that it seemed to make her glow.
"He... he said what?" she breathed. "The pact? The 'Pact of Worthiness'?"
She stared at her son, and then... she smiled. It wasn't her watery, sad smile from when Xebec had left. It was a huge, bright, brilliant smile, just like the one she'd had when he first arrived. She let out a laugh, a real, happy, bubbling-up-from-the-chest laugh.
"Oh, Aster," she said, pulling him into another hug, this one not of fear, but of pure, unadulterated joy. "Oh, my little warrior. You... you really are your father's son, aren't you? Stubborn as the sea itself."
She set him down on the sand, her face still shining with this new, happy relief.
"Mom?"
"The 'pact' wasn't a curse, Aster," she said, wiping a happy tear from the corner of her eye. "It was... a partnership. A chance. One that none of my ancestors were ever offered. They only ever knew the fruit as a monster to be contained, a destructive will to be suppressed and fought. But you... you didn't fight it. You didn't obey it. You... you made friends with it."
She looked at him, her gaze full of a new, absolute certainty. The last shadow of fear I had ever seen in her was gone.
"I have no worries now, Aster," she said, her voice full of pride. "Not a single one. You're going to be fine. You're going to be more than fine."
She stood up and brushed the sand from her apron, her usual, strong, kind self, but... bigger. Brighter.
"Now," she said, her smile turning sharp and focused. "You have your Haki. You have your fruit. And you have a promise to keep to your father."
She pointed to the ironwood training axe, lying by the treeline.
"Are you ready for your real training to begin?"
Aster looked at the axe. He thought of his father splitting the sky. He thought of Flamey, the little, angry ball of fire in his mind. And he thought of the new, cold power thrumming just under his skin.
He stood up, his legs steady on the sand. "Yeah."
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