Chapter Text
For years, the world dangled over a precipice of change, held by a mere thread that promised to snap every day. What this thin, frayed piece of material was protecting the world from, nobody knew. Not until a resonance like thunder agitated both the land and sea, announcing the end of an era.
No, the world didn’t know; too busy lazing in what you knew to be the eye of the storm. Many were content with their lifestyles – the ignorance and neglect had poisoned the populace and overridden their sense of urgency. Nobles non-deserving of their power flaunting their ability to snuff out lives with a wave sowed seeds of fear.
Following all this was an organization with a foundation so feeble, you could stomp once and it would crack.
Of course, all of this went unheard by everyone but you. Not unless you wished to instil a sense of uncertainty in the minds of your comrades and risk losing your position. Your voice was not your own, it seemed.
You emerged from the captain’s quarters, rattled and tense. The sun blinded you momentarily, but you trudged onwards. It was the sky that threw you off – so blue and majestic, with blotches of white, untroubled clouds scattered throughout. In a situation such as this, you’d hoped for a more violent setting – a fitting prelude to what was to come.
Marching across the deck, your eyes befall the figure seated in the very centre, then the captain. Marines stationed on the sidelines acknowledge you with a nod and grim looks.
“Take a good look at your final view of the sky,” The man began sourly, expression unreadable and voice grating on your nerves. “For once you are restrained upon the execution platform… you will never be able to gaze up at it again.”
You bite down on the inside of your cheek, eyes narrowing into two angry slits as you scowl. While the captain spoke, you’d halted by the prisoner, arms behind your back. The man, Ace was his name, barely glanced your way. That you did not mind.
With nothing else to say, the captain took to silence, much like the rest of the men upon the ship. All it did was add fuel to the inferno trapped inside you, aching, demanding to be released.
Things hadn’t always been this way. Once, you’d been proud of your title, of the uniform you’d donned for so many years now. Now it was nothing more than a piece of clothing; another thing to toss in the garbage after running its course. The coat weighed heavily on your shoulders like an unnecessary burden. Justice, the thing claimed, but you couldn’t do the same. Not any more.
The captain called your name, and you braved several steps forward, jaw clenched anxiously. He continued when you stood beside him. “You’ve been oddly quiet since we left.”
Your response was strained, weary… unlike everything it should have been. “I… understand this is not the time for chatter, sir,” You roll your shoulders, soothing some of the tension that had settled there, watching the gulls soar the sky. The man nods.
While in Impel Down, the whispers and excited murmurs regarding Portgas reached your ears. They’d been blindfolded by the triumph – an addictive feeling that was justified after the many hardships Portgas had brought the marines.
Not you, though.
The deeper into the stronghold you ventured, the more your psyche dwindled. A cacophony of screams and howls of agony permeated the air. Emaciated prisoners reached out to you through the spaces between the bars – some seeking vengeance, others freedom, some begging for death.
What was worse: you recognized some of them, and seeing them locked up in such states sent bolts of sickness rippling through you. You had gotten familiar with punishment during your years of service. You understood it was a necessity. But this exceeded all expectations. And to have the consequences of your actions fiercely stare you down with no room to breathe was just horrible.
Behind you, the chains rattled quietly when the gates to Marineford dwarfed your ship. You closed your eyes, willing your thoughts to remain in the present. Dwelling on the past, on what could’ve been, was pointless now.
You returned to your post besides the prisoner when they opened, feeling a tremor in your limbs. Rage, sorrow, and helplessness simmered underneath your skin, itching.
“I’d hoped we’d meet again,” You started softly so nobody but him could hear you. “But not like this.”
Unable to resist, you chance a glance in his direction. His unwavering gaze never abandoned the parting gates, but a twitch in his brow indicated he’d heard you. In the silvery pools of his eyes, emotions began to stir.
Knowing that you won’t receive a reply, you look away, swallowing harshly.
The ship crossed the threshold of the gates, swaying as it neared Marineford, steadfast.
(x)
“Goddamn you, pirate!” You growled, exhaustion clinging to your muscles and making your hits sloppy.
Two days. You’d been duking it out for two whole days, and despite everything, he appeared to be faring better than you. Not only did that leave a dent in your pride, but it also alarmed you. Just how powerful was this man?
Take out Portgas D. Ace. That had been the order issued to you by your superior, of which you’d gladly accepted in the spur of the moment. A reckless decision, for sure, but you’d just been promoted and that alone had an effect on your thinking. Unfortunately, the crew you’d set sail with had been all but wiped out save for yourself. Now, you stood alone.
“Tired, rookie?” He taunted, even though you could see him panting, desperate for a breather. You glowered at him, knowing that you would not let him rest until your body refused to stand.
“As if!” You retorted childishly – another mistake on your part. After all, you were a warrant officer. Ace smirked dangerously, flames coating his arms as he readied himself for another attack. Your haki-imbued sword created an arch above his head. You altered the trajectory of his punch with a jab at his arm and rolled out of his path.
“Why won’t you just–” You were cut off by a kick aimed at your side. Your blade created an incision in the dirt as you blocked.
Undeterred, the pirate threw another series of blows you barely dodged. One particular punch grazed your cheek, hot and unforgiving as it burned the skin. You hissed, using the butt of your sword to knock his hand aside before it could burn your hair. There was a fleeting moment in which he flinched, and you seized the chance to lash out and recover ground.
And again, it was back to staring each other down like two predators waiting for the perfect time to strike.
You didn’t have much time. The silly pirate was supposed to return home a long while ago, which means his crew should already be closing in on your location out of concern for their lost friend. And you were not ready to fight more than a thousand angry criminals, thank you.
But you also didn’t have it in you to flee. Literally. The remaining vestiges of your energy dissipated when avoiding his latest barrage.
Coughing up blood, you drop to your knees, holding your stomach with one arm. Your other hand rested on your weapon, a sign that you were not giving up just yet. Ahead of you, Ace tilted his head to the side, staring at you. You ignored him, attempting to catch your breath.
“Heh,” He snickered, the little sh–
“Don’t you laugh at me!” You cried petulantly, then clapped a hand over your mouth in embarrassment. It prompted more peals of laughter from the pirate.
Shaking your head, you rose, trembling legs begrudgingly bearing your weight. You launch another attack on him while he’s distracted, and the yelp of surprise he lets loose brings a satisfied smile to your face.
Except he recovers fairly quickly and wipes the damn thing off your face when he blocks most of them. Cuts continuously litter his arms as he does. He endures your attack for a total of five seconds, then kicks your feet out from underneath you. You topple, landing noisily, your sword flying out of your reach.
A silence hangs over you both, forcing the air from your lungs as you await your fate. The sky is gloomy, grey clouds rolling by while thunder echoes somewhere in the distance.
But it never comes.
“Now what, pirate?” You say, voice firm as you scowl at the endless expanse of grey. A drop of water finds its mark on your forehead, then your cheek. Your eyes slip shut against the rain. It probably seemed like you were admitting defeat, but that was far from the truth.
You were not quitting. Not while you still breathed. This mantra is what had gotten you through training.
“What will you do now?”
The grass tickled your hands as they clenched, tearing the blades out of the soil.
“Dunno.”
Oh, for the love of–
“What do you mean, ‘you don’t know’?” You managed to grit, eyelids splitting so you could glare at him. He loomed over you, water dribbling from his hat and onto your dirtied uniform. Rain spattered against your face as you squinted at the offending presence above you. “I’m a marine, you’re a pirate. We’re supposed to kill each other here.”
“True,” He scratched the back of his head but otherwise made no move to end your pain. You bit back a groan as you lay on the ground, aching and injured. “But every marine I’ve fought has never lasted this long.”
You let out a long, suffering sigh, shifting awkwardly. If you could just get back up, you could finish this stupid fight and go home.
After a few seconds, your body began responding accordingly. Noticing this, Ace backed off, oddly serious. You sat up painfully, staring at him.
“Well, this was fun, but I have to go now. I’m running late, y’know.”
“Late to what? Your next raid on some innocent town?” You retorted, preparing for another skirmish…
“Dinner.”
…only to fall back on your ass again.
“What in the bloody hell is with you pirates…” You groaned, a hand on your lower back, and then noticed the enormous ship approaching the island.
“Oh, look at that,” Ace said, already walking away. “Guess that’s my cue to leave. See ya, rookie!”
You blanched, complexion darkening with each step he took. Then, stupidly, which is just what your superiors had bemoaned whenever you gave them trouble, you roared:
“I’m not a rookie!”
(x)
After that particular meeting, you’d made it your personal mission to defeat him. It didn’t matter where you were, or what he was doing… if you saw an opportunity, you leapt into action. You’d wait for him to be completely alone and then you would strike.
Mostof the time, he defeated you easily enough, which had you wondering: had he been holding back on your first battle? The thought had made you scoff on many occasions, but...
Deep down, you knew it to be the truth.
On another distinct encounter, you remember fighting in a clearing and landing a blow that, had it been a civilian, would’ve been fatal. But, after recovering from your frantic swing, he’d shaken his head to clear the wooziness and just kept going. You’d never seen anything like it.
From then on, you developed a sense of respect for the man. It was fragile, and often times when his taunts struck a nerve, it disappeared completely. But it was there. And it only swelled when his crew sank a slave ship and freed all those who’d been kidnapped. Reports stated that Ace spearheaded the attack without an ounce of hesitation. It reminded you just who you were mingling with constantly, trying to earn their favour, keep them sated but never succeeding.
The Celestial Dragons.
Again, you never brought this up to anybody. You bottled it up and put a cork on the stupid notion that you were the bad guy, not the pirates.
Then, your brain betrayed you. Staring at reports, you listed off what you’d done and what you hadn’t done. You noted some things the most feared crew in the world was doing and realized that your leaders should be doing the same.
Were they?
When townsfolk cried for aid, you were busy chasing forgettable troublemakers, not doing what you were supposed to. Once, you were made to stand down, too busy guarding a Celestial Dragon. A little girl had almost approached you, and you, terrified, pointed your gun her way. It was not a threat. Her presence was not an offence. It was a plea. In your mind, you begged for her to keep her distance. You begged her parents to come to scoop her into their arms and take her home. Not a single child should have to bow to those pigs, and they certainly should not be shot when they could not understand why.
In the end, it was pirates declaring that this and that island were under their protection. It was them making the declaration you'd only ever heard one marine ever make: anyone that thinks of pillaging or harming a civilian would suffer the consequences. And those... those were dire.
...
It was wrong.
Who did those meek townspeople hail as their saviour? Who did they pledge their allegiance to? Who did they write a playground song about?
Not the marines.
And yet you’d done absolutely nothing about it. Despite the fury, you never dared to defy the admirals or the nobles. Whatever they said guided your hand, even if you were painfully aware it was in the wrong direction. Because… what could one person accomplish all on their own?
(x)
“Why would you do that?” You called out to him. Two weeks ago, after another three fights without success, you’d finally decided to approach him normally. Well… somewhat. Your greeting had consisted of slamming a pair of mugs on the table and sitting down, cheeks puffed and slightly ruffled.
The patrons at the bar stared at you. You stared back, then took to fixing your appearance. When you'd ensured your uniform was in pristine condition, you schooled your features into a face of neutrality.
“What?” Ace lounged back, reclining in his chair and balancing it on its back legs. The bar was noisy and the people around him distracted. Even so, he could feel the tension lingering in the corners of the room. A marine and a pirate sharing a conversation in a bar was an odd sight, after all.
You didn’t care for secrecy. Everyone who saw you two together was bound to report it back to someone they knew. This was putting your job at risk, but you needed to know.
“The slave ship. Why would you do that?” You clarified, hands curling into fists in your lap. “Why save those people?”
Ace regarded you for a long time. The mirth that had shone so brightly in his eyes had been replaced with a knowing gleam as he held your gaze. You did not miss the fiery resolve residing inside them, smoothly concealed by a one-shoulder shrug.
“…Everyone is a child of the sea.” Ace murmured so softly, you had to lean forwards just to catch the words.
They paralyzed you.
He could’ve yelled it at the top of his lungs, written it down, sang it. It wouldn’t have mattered. What mattered was his expression. The admiration and the determination behind the statement were what enraptured you.
It reminded you of home when you were young and had just begun mulling over your career choice. When the word marine entered your mind, that’s all you’d felt. And still did, but the feeling of burning out was beginning to conquer.
The shock must’ve wormed its way into your face somehow, because, after snapping back to reality, he smirked at you. Then, he stood, adjusted the hat you’d mocked so many times, and left the building. Like a breeze on a scorching summer’s day – the fulfilling feeling after having the wind caress your skin… gone, replaced by the lethargy that plagued your body under the sun.
You downed your own drink, leaving his untouched.
You didn’t see him again after that, not for a long time.
The punishment for your transgression did nothing to diminish your admiration for Ace and his crew.
And, unbeknownst to him, the words he mumbled so readily had been etched into your brain for eternity.
(x)
The news of who Ace's real father was still rang in your ears long after Sengoku had finished announcing it to the world. To you, this meant that the news of somebody wreaking havoc somewhere on the horizon reached you later than you would’ve liked.
You discussed things with the captain and other officers, palm on the hilt of your sword in preparation for what was to come. Your hand hadn’t abandoned its place since your last “conversation” with Ac- the prisoner. He was a prisoner.
With the threat of Whitebeard already in the back of your mind, an intruder that had released who knows how many prisoners did not sit well. But then again, nothing up to now had made you feel at ease. And, considering the prisoner’s reputation, chances are someone other than his crew was planning on rescuing him.
You sighed when the group of higher-ranking marines dispersed, allowing you time to mull over the day’s events. The prisoner had been sent to a fortified cell with little room and an impenetrable door, relieving you of your guard duty and heartache.
Now, the only thing you could do at this point was to wait. There were a few hours until the execution and even less until the pirate crew showed up. Some doubted its arrival, but you’d felt the dread and anticipation thrumming in your veins since the very beginning. The war – you could call it fate – was inevitable.
Reporters dead set on capturing the events meandered about. Some tried approaching you as you prowled the deserted streets. You waved them away like they were mere flies, demanding they leave you be.
You were to get to your post at once, you’d been told. There, you would be leading several squadrons and planning different ways of defending, should the intruders get past the front lines. Stationed between the front lines and the admirals, you were to keep anyone from interrupting the execution or die trying.
It would be gruelling and exhausting. Watching blood be shed without pause would do the most damage. To follow those orders meant you had to be suicidal, but there was no other alternative.
Seconds after you arrived at your post, marines of lower-ranks crowded around you for orders. You relayed what you could remember from the conversation with your peers and tweaked things where it seemed fitting. If you could keep a few people alive by making things go your way, so be it.
“Keep the cannons here. Fire at whatever pirate makes it past the front line. Do not charge until you can see the whites of their eyes. I- no, that’s not- use grapeshots if necessary to keep them at bay.” So on, so forth.
After much discussion, you were alone once more and there were only three hours left until the execution. A hundred thousand marines stood, ready for the battle, listening to those in command as they delivered empowering speeches. You would’ve done the same for those taking orders from you, but you didn’t feel like lying.
Is giving people false hope better than no hope at all?
Your eyes roved the mass of soldiers. There were many brave faces and masks among them.
Could you really bring yourself to do something so cruel?
You walked up the stairs to the double-barrelled cannon under your command. It was off to the right side but still close to the middle of the crescent. Counting, you noted that your cannon was four down from the one in the centre to the west. The pirates' goal was the execution platform, that much was concrete. Your position gave you a nice vantage point. All that mattered was whether you could aim it properly.
“Captain, we’re ready.” A young marine informed you. You nodded your acknowledgement, eyes trained on the horrendous fog obscuring your view of the ocean. The way it grows denser is throwing you off, but nobody else seemed to notice.
You craned your neck to check on the lookouts, who were busying checking the horizon for anything remotely peculiar.
When you saw one of the lookouts recoil from his spyglass, you knew.
“They’re here!”
Your eyes found the horizon again, widening as eerie shadows emerged from the fog, rippling and twisted. When they finally came into view, a chill travelled down your spine at the sheer number and the size of some ships. Sweat collected in your palms, which you wiped on your trousers. Your right hand landed on the hilt of your sword. When had you removed it from its place?
The ships were packed together tightly, so much that you could barely see past the wall they formed. Flags danced in the wind defiantly, colourful and unique in their design, much like the ships themselves. Figureheads of all kinds glared you down, threatening and menacing. You were shocked at the differences between all of them.
Not many pirates formed alliances. Those that did tend to disintegrate in mere months. Sometimes even days.
Quickly, though, you understood that even though they differed from one another, they were all unified. They were all here under one man’s order.
Only one man could tear the skies open and split the earth under your feet. Only one man could inspire such comradery.
And speaking of, that one man was nowhere to be found. And that... that’s what made the fear in you almost palpable.
You signalled for your cannon to be aimed towards the fleet, snapping your fingers to attract the attention of your troops.
“Be ready,” You ordered, putting on a mask of serenity as one of the warlords cackled in the background. You're not exactly fond of Doflamingo. “Whitebeard has to be on one of those ships.”
Just as you finished speaking, an enormous bubble broke the surface of the water. You took a fraction of a second to process this information. When you realized what it meant, it felt like a bucket of ice was dumped on your head. It injected fractals of ice into your system, freezing you from the inside.
Marines yelled in surprise when another bubble erupted, sending ripples towards you. Waves lapped at the stone of the crescent. Whatever droplets managed to find their home on your body went ignored.
Your heart lurched inside your chest when a familiar white whale's head rose from the ocean. You gaped at the sight disbelievingly as three more appeared. Thankfully, everyone else around you was going through the same thing.
Shaking your head, you lifted your hand again and pointed at one of the ships that had literally appeared out of nowhere. All was silent after a man announced the name of the Moby Dick, save for the mechanical noise of your turret.
And then Whitebeard showed himself, bisentō banging against the steps he slowly climbed. Whatever words the man uttered when he finally halted, you didn’t hear, too focused on the memory rendering you blind.
(x)
“You don’t really like what you do, huh?”
Your head snapped to the side to meet his eyes, affronted at the sudden conjecture. “What do you know, pirate?”
“Ace,” He replied casually, even though you already knew that. He told you his name whenever you called him pirate, hoping you’d address him as such. But that would be foolish - more foolish than you already were. That would mean forming a connection with him, and you didn’t want to do that. You couldn't. “And I know enough to understand that you don’t like being a marine.”
You scoffed, shaking your head as you trudged ahead, intent on leaving him behind. He caught up easily, feet crushing the dirt and gravel on the path. “You don’t know me at all.”
The man shrugged his shoulders, and you shook your head, irritated. Pushing a branch as you passed, you let it go, hoping it would smack him in the face. It didn’t, which dampened your mood further.
“Oh, come on,” He insisted, a smug smile on his face. He’d known of your stupid plan. “You wouldn’t be talking to me if you loved your job.”
“Correction: I wouldn’t be talking to you if I could kill you.”
“…are you saying you’re weak, rookie?” He laughed boisterously when your expression twisted into a grimace. It reminded him of the day he ate the Mera Mera no Mi.
“Of course not!” You retorted, whirling around to face him. Ace paused when you stepped closer to him in an attempt to appear intimidating, face inches from his. The attempt fell flat. “And don’t you dare call me that.”
“Well, what else am I supposed to call you?” He shouted when you began speeding away from him again. “You haven’t really told me your name, you know.” You grit your teeth, scrunching your eyes shut when your name almost toppled out of your mouth.
“I don’t need to tell you anything.” You growled instead, resolve crumbling.
“No, you don’t.” He agreed from behind you. You were glad he couldn’t see your pained expression.
Both you and Ace had been meeting each other more frequently as time went on. You accepted missions near wherever reports claimed he was located and didn’t return to your base for a long while. When you were with a crew, which was often, you released them and let them explore the island. Or the tavern. Whatever they wished. Then, you’d search for him, a bounce in your step.
If you were questioned, you answered with whatever came to your head first. And if people wondered why the crew was so slow to search for the pirate, well… you weaselled your way out of that, too.
You wouldn’t accept it as the truth if someone told you, but… you’d grown comfortable around the pirate. He could be irritating at times, sure, and he mocked you whenever you failed to defeat him. But he too was easy to rile up, which lead to the dumbest, most fun bickering you’d partaken in. Most of your ‘arguments’ ended with a laugh from his side and an eye-roll as well as a tiny smirk from yours.
“(name),” You mumbled suddenly. Immediately, you clapped a hand over your mouth, praying he hadn’t heard.
He had.
“(name),” He sounded out the syllables with a grin, then bumped you on the shoulder with his. “Nice. Definitely suits you.”
“Oh, shut up, will you? You don’t even know if that’s my real name.” You shoved him lightly. Your body then decided to betray you by colouring your cheeks in an annoying shade of red.
“Sure, sure ." Ace chuckled to himself, walking past you. “Bet you can’t land a hit on me in under five minutes.”
Your sword was in your hand before he could even finish, prompting another round of amused sounds from him.
(x)
The ground was shaking.
After asking if his son was faring well, the man had not only punched visible cracks in the air, but he’d shaken the very foundation of the land. The earthquake that followed suit threw you off balance and you crashed into the cannon.
Dazed, you braced yourself against the dome of the weapon, mask falling to reveal trepidation. The emotion swelled when a tsunami loomed above you all – a physical representation of the power Whitebeard possessed.
You cursed aloud, straightening up and watching as the precarious walls of water began their descent.
And then Admiral Kuzan leapt into action, freezing the entire bay and leaving the marine warships stranded. You were grateful, of course, but it meant that the fight on land would come sooner than you’d anticipated.
“Captain!” A man yelled, and you ordered the cannon to be fired at the Moby Dick, heart stuttering when pirates began piling out of the ships. The shot missed.
“Goddamn it,” You shouted, raking a hand through your hair. Pointing at a poor soldier with your free hand, you yelled, “You there, get your men ready. You are to intercept the pirates immediately!”
The man nodded, saluting sloppily and scurrying off. You focused your attention on the cannon again, motioning for it to be fired a second time. The shot missed the ship but managed to hit a group of pirates.
You grabbed an officer, telling him that he’s to be in charge of firing the cannon from now on. Then, you unsheathed your sword, inhaling deeply. There was no avoiding the battle now.
Glancing back at the execution platform, you noticed that Ace seemed shocked. Why? You didn’t know, but it certainly worsened your condition. Why did his captain’s presence surprise him?
You slid the questions to the back of your mind, jumping off the stone ledge and onto the icy battlefield. Not even minutes after the admiral had frozen the whole place, and blood was everywhere. Charging, you met with the squadron you’d sent and faced every pirate you saw.
The vice admirals, thankfully, were busy fighting the pirate ships, who thought they could gain the advantage easily. One of the warlords was also moving to attack, which was relieving until Jozu from Whitebeard’s crew stopped the monstrous attack. Another admiral joined the battle, targeting the captain of the Moby Dick only to be stopped by another commander, Phoenix Marco.
Watching from afar was galling. Pirates came at you from every angle, swords flailing and guns booming. Bullets whizzed by your head as you dodged, grateful for your haki as you defeated another three pirates with one blow. Off to the side, the giants and other marines are preparing themselves for a chunk of ice the size of an island flying towards them.
You bring the butt of your sword down on a pirate’s head, knocking him out. Blood coated your blade, dripping onto the ground as you observe the last admiral protect the marines from the ice. Guard down, you don’t notice an enemy take aim and fire at you.
Pain explodes in your right shoulder, invading your whole arm as blood dyes your uniform crimson. Cringing, you defeat the pirate easily, knocking him out as well. Your entire squadron has been wiped out.
You wiped the sweat out of your eyes, eyelids fluttering as you blinked the dizziness away. Vaguely, you noted the Whitebeard appeared nothing but thrilled, a grin etched on his face.
It was then your brain decided to provide some input.
As you watched the marines and pirates clash, you thought simply: we’re not going to make it. And the saddest part was… you weren’t speaking about your squad. You weren’t thinking of your comrades.
You were thinking of the man kneeling on the execution platform, hands cuffed behind his back, seemingly horrified at the sight of his friends.
We're not going to make it, Ace.
What is 'it'?
Willing those thoughts into non-existence, you retreat from the battlefield, blocking attacks directed at you. You pass two rookies speaking frantically with one another. They glanced in your direction, and one of them called out to you.
“Captain! Please, Captain!” You skidded to a halt, ice flying every which way. You didn't turn around.
“I must return to my post.” You said, tearing off towards your cannon again. The two young men did nothing to stop you, but they might as well have. The one with the violet hair had stared at you so pleadingly you felt the need to hide him away. Hide him somewhere safe.
Everything else was a blur. The giant known as Little Oars Jr. came barrelling into the war, destroying ships left and right. The marine giants were nothing but a nuisance to the behemoth. The cannons could not be used because, while they could cause many casualties to the enemy, friendly fire was also a possibility. Both sides would suffer and the marines would not benefit in the slightest.
Instead, they were aimed at the titan steadily approaching, who didn’t even flinch at the explosions erupting on his skin. The titan’s weight created craters in the icy battlefield, and with Whitebeard’s command, the pirates’ energy had been renewed.
And then, without warning, one of the warlords began attacking both pirates and marines alike. Another two went after Oars, which sent tremor after tremor through the land until the giant finally fell on the wall. The cannon in the very centre of the crescent, now crushed, let loose an explosion.
Ace screamed his friend's name. It carried throughout the battlefield, weaving its way through the destruction until it pierced your and everyone's ears. Your heart lurched in your chest.
You kept running.