Argento's gaze flicked from the distant festival back to his mother, panic still coiling in his chest. "Mom… how did you know? How did you know this was going to happen?" His voice was trembling, barely rising above the distant hum of the festival, yet it carried the weight of desperation.
Celestia's eyes softened for the briefest moment, shadows of memory crossing her features. She drew in a slow breath, as if weighing how much to reveal. "Long before you were born, Arg… before Veyra even came into this world… I had a friend. A very close friend," she said, her tone tight with restraint. "Rocks."
Argento blinked, thinking to himself in shock... Rocks D Xebec??? The Pirate??
Celestia's lips pressed into a thin line, her gaze distant, weighed down by memory. "Rocks D. Xebec," she said quietly, each word measured. "He isn't just a pirate. He is… a force unlike anything the world has ever seen. Charismatic, terrifying, brilliant. The Celestial Dragons fear him, the Marines fear him… even the Gods."
Argento's pulse hammered in his ears, his thoughts spinning. "And… you knew him?" His voice was barely more than a whisper, disbelief and awe warring inside him.
Celestia's voice wavered slightly now, the memory clawing its way to the surface. "He called me," she said softly, her hand unconsciously tightening on Argento's shoulder. "On his Den Den Mushi. Just hours ago. His tone was different… quieter, but still carrying that same fire. He told me to leave. To run."
Argento's eyes widened, the world tilting beneath the weight of her words. "He… called you? Rocks… D. Xebec… called you?" His voice trembled, disbelief and awe tangled together like thorns in his chest.
Celestia nodded, her gaze distant, haunted by the memory. "Yes… he warned me, Arg. Warned me that the Gods' eyes are upon this island, that the hunt is no longer just a threat. It's imminent. He told me that the festival is only a veil, a mask to hide the slaughter to come."
She drew in a shuddering breath, the weight of history pressing down on her shoulders. "He said God Valley itself will be attacked… and that no one will survive. That we, our family… even in hiding, are targets because of our connections to sin."
Argento's stomach knotted tighter, the words sinking like stones. "Targets… because of sin?" His voice was a hoarse whisper, disbelief and rising fear tangling in each syllable. "What… what do you mean?"
Celestia's eyes darkened, reflecting the unyielding weight of history. "Not just any sin, Arg. The sins of the Davy Clan. The sins of those who once ruled and defied the world order… and of those who remained loyal to them. Even hidden in shadows, even after centuries, our blood carries the mark. That is why we are hunted."
A spark ignited in Argento's mind, sudden and sharp, like a lantern flaring in darkness. Memories... not of this life, but another, rushed forward, fragments of knowledge buried deep in the recesses of his soul. Devil Fruits. Legendary treasures. The so-called prizes of festivals like this. His chest tightened as he realized a devil fruit might be within reach, hidden somewhere among the chaos of God Valley.
His mind raced, images flashing unbidden: the swirling patterns of the fruit, its power humming in the air, the impossible strength it promised. A reckless possibility gnawed at him... if I reach it, I can change everything.
He glanced at Veyra, her small hand still clutching his arm, and then to Celestia, whose gaze never left the horizon, tension coiling in every line of her posture. Logic screamed at him... it's madness, they'll get hurt! but the memory from his past life whispered louder, insistent: You've seen what these fruits can do. If you claim it, you'll have unlimited power!
Logic screamed at him, a chorus of warning ringing in his mind. They're too small. They're not fighters. You'll get us all killed. His chest tightened, breath shallow, panic bubbling under the surface. Why am I thinking about a fruit now, when the Gods are watching? When we're marked?
But the memory from his other life was relentless, sharp as a blade. Kuma. He's here. He saves people. He'll save them. Just grab the fruit. Trust him.
His mind raced, weaving scenarios and possibilities. If we stay here, we'll just be prey. If I act, I can control the first step. The first fruit… the rest will follow. Veyra and Mom… they'll only be in danger if I hesitate. But I won't. Kuma… will take care of them.
Argento's voice trembled slightly, a mix of excitement and fear threading through each word. "Veyra… Mom… I want to go to the festival," he said, his gaze flicking between them, wide and searching. "What if… what if there are prizes?"
Veyra blinked, her small hand tightening around his arm, a mix of confusion and alarm crossing her features. "Prizes? What do you mean… Arg?"
Celestia's eyes narrowed, a shadow passing over her face as she instinctively stepped closer. "Arg… this isn't a game. You don't know what you're talking about."
"I do," he said quietly, with a certainty he couldn't explain. "I just… I know there's something there. Something important. We have to move, carefully, together."
Celestia's lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes narrowing at Argento. "That's… stupid," she said sharply, the word cutting through the tension like a blade. Her gaze swept over the festival in the distance, the music and laughter now twisted into something sinister in her mind. "Do you even understand what you're asking? The Gods are watching. People will die there. And you want to walk straight into it. for prizes?"
Argento swallowed, his jaw tight, but didn't back down. "I… I have to. I can't let it pass."
Celestia's chest heaved. For a long moment, her sharp gaze bore into him, weighing his determination against her fear. Finally, she let out a frustrated sigh, muttering under her breath, "Stupid… so stupid…"
But then her hand found his shoulder, firm and grounding. "Fine," she said, voice low but steady. "If you insist on this… I'm going with you. You're not leaving this side of me. Not for anything."
Argento nodded, swallowing the rising thrill and fear, his resolve unshaken. Together, the three of them moved toward the festival, shadows threading through the celebration, unseen yet deeply aware of the peril that waited ahead.