Darius scrambled through the dense ferns, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. Behind him, the shouts of the search parties grew louder, echoing through the humid air.
"What happened here?!" a voice roared from the site of the explosion. "Look at the crater! Who did this? Get a medical team here immediately and sweep the entire Forest! Nobody leaves this island!"
Darius pressed his back against a massive, moss-covered trunk, sliding down until he hit the roots. He wiped a mixture of sweat and grime from his forehead.
I think I'm safe for now, he thought, his chest heaving. Just a few minutes of rest. I need to think. I need to—
SHING!
A silver flash cut through the air. A horizontal shockwave of compressed wind tore through the jungle, leveling a dozen trees in a single clean sweep. Darius's military instincts screamed. He threw himself into the dirt, the wind of the blade ruffling the back of his hair.
"You think you can leave this island easily, Pirate?"
A man stepped through the settling dust. He was dressed in a pristine officer's coat, holding a katana in his left hand. Darius felt a jolt of recognition. Doberman. But he was younger—the iconic scars that would eventually map his face were missing. He looked lean, hungry, and full of a cold, fanatical "Absolute Justice."
Darius barely had time to scramble to his feet before Doberman moved again. He was a blur of white and steel. Darius twisted his body, the blade whistling past his ribs, cutting a clean slit through his tactical vest.
"Wait! Wait!" Darius shouted, holding up a hand. "I'm not a pirate!"
Doberman's eyes remained icy. "Then why did you attack my men?"
"Self-defense!" Darius snapped, his hand hovering over his holster. "They came at me first! I was just protecting myself!"
"You wear the clothes of a mercenary and use strange weapons. To the Marines, you are a pirate until your head is on a pike," Doberman replied coldly. He raised his sword for a vertical execution.
This dumbass, Darius cursed internally. No wonder he ends up getting eye diffed by Saturn. He's all muscle and no brain.
Darius drew his 9mm in a fluid motion. Pop-pop-pop! He emptied three rounds at the officer's chest.
Doberman didn't even flinch. His sword moved like a silver fan, the clinking of metal on lead echoing as he sliced the bullets in half as if they were soft bread.
"What...?" Darius gasped. He didn't hesitate. He grabbed his second grenade, pulled the pin, and hurled it directly at Doberman's feet. "Eat this!"
BOOM!
The explosion was massive, kicking up a wall of dirt and black smoke. Darius didn't wait to see the result; he turned and bolted into the thicket. If a grenade won't kill him, I need a goddamn tank!
Suddenly, the smoke behind him split. Doberman emerged with his coat barely singed, his face a mask of predatory calm. He didn't run; he flew. In a heartbeat, he was behind Darius.
"Your tricks are over."
A flash of steel followed.
"AAAGGHH!"
Darius let out a blood-curdling scream as he was slammed into the ground. A searing, white-hot agony exploded in his left shoulder. He looked down, his vision swimming. His arm—his left arm—was gone, severed cleanly at the elbow. Blood soaked the jungle floor in a widening pool.
He collapsed to his knees, his strength draining out of him as the world began to tilt.
"How many times... am I going to die in one day?" Darius whispered, his voice cracking. He looked up at the blue sky through the canopy, his vision darkening at the edges. "This is worse than being a slave to a Celestial Dragon... my story ended... before it even started..."
Darius slumped forward into the dirt, the world turning a muddy grey. He heard the heavy crunch of boots on leaves, the sound of a predator approaching its fallen prey.
Doberman stood over him, flicking the blood from his blade with a sharp, mechanical motion. Around them, the brush rustled as a dozen Marine grunts finally caught up, their rifles raised.
"What should we do with him, Rear Admiral?"
Doberman sheathed his katana with a cold click. "Tie his wound so he doesn't bleed out yet. We'll take him to the impel down. If he survives the trip, he's lucky."
The Marines moved in, their rough hands grabbing Darius's shoulders.
The Prison Ship
Darius's eyes fluttered open. Everything was a blur of grey and sickly yellow light. His head throbbed in time with a rhythmic thump-slosh, thump-slosh. Water?
He tried to sit up, but a bolt of lightning-hot pain shot from his left shoulder down to his spine. He collapsed back onto the cold, damp floor. He looked down, and his breath hitched. His left arm ended in a thick, blood-stained bundle of bandages.
"No... I'm still here," he whispered, his voice a dry rasp. "Aah... this pain. Now I know how painful it must have been for Shanks to save Luffy... but I didn't save anyone. I just got butchered."
He looked around through the haze. He was behind heavy iron bars. The room was dim, lit only by a flickering lantern, and smelled of salt, rot, and old blood.
"Don't talk," a voice croaked from the shadows.
Darius jumped, his heart racing. "Huh? Who are you?"
From the corner of the opposite cell, a man leaned forward. He was covered in filth, his clothes tattered, and his beard matted. "Just another dead man walking. I'm a pirate captured by that devil, Doberman."
"Where are we?" Darius asked, trying to ignore the pulsing in his missing limb.
"We're in the gut of his warship," the pirate said, a hollow laugh escaping his throat. "We're heading toward the Calm belt. He's taking us into the hell of Impel Down."
Darius felt a cold sweat break out over his entire body. Impel Down? "What?" Darius breathed. "If I go there, I'll never see the sun again. I'll be tortured for the rest of my life."