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The Soul Game was easy and there were only five rules.
“The first is that only one group can remain alive if they want to reach the End of the Game.”
There were ten groups total, each with five people with one of three designations: three Players were Collectors, one was a Weapon, and one a Wielder.
The Collectors gathered raw energy from the world around them, and eventually the power of the Souls of any groups they defeated, into themselves. They then transferred that energy to the Weapon which in turn made the Weapon that much more powerful.
The Weapon is meant to hold as much energy as possible and their Soul was able to be removed from their body and molded into a form better suited to the Game.
The Wielder then uses their Weapons Soul to defeat the other teams in The Soul Game, killing the rival Players and managing the power of the Weapon so that at the end of the game they could fight the Final Boss: The Gamemaster himself.
“The second rule is that only Wielders may fight. Collectors must remain in a support role.”
Which wasn’t a hard rule to follow, it's the way they'd been living back on the Moby Dick anyway.
Marco was a Commander of the Whitebeard’s so it made sense for him to be the Wielder.
Ace was quite literally made of fire, if any of them were to be a living Weapon it’d be him, and so he was.
And their Collectors were three of the junior nurses: Reaya, Mai, and Chie. To heal and support their family through all their battles, both in Game and in Life.
Rule Two was easy to adhere to, because it was a life they already led. Even as the context of playing the Game had changed from time killer while they waited for a log pose to set, to a life and death battle royal, it was almost too easy to slide into the roles of the Game.
The Marco at the beginning of the Game would have burned at the thought of the youngest of their crew fighting in this death tournament. Now he just wondered when their family was going to stop arguing so he and his Collectors could move on to the next Stage.
Which perfectly encapsulated the spirit of—
“Rule Three. It's less of a rule and more of a warning. The more you play, the more you become someone who wants to play. In other words, the more you want to have Fun.”
The Soul Game was easy to play, and impossible to stop (in more than one way) once you really started to Play. But why would they want to, when the Game was so much Fun?
It was something easy to understand if you were a Player, but none of the Whitebeard’s besides them were. And for a crew of family: what temptation was there in ‘Fun’ if the Lose condition was death?
If the Lose condition, that if they stopped playing at any point, was the destruction of their literal soul?
(the Soul Game was impossible to stop, in more than one way.)
“They’re people, not pieces of your demented game. You can't just play with their lives like this!” Haruta’s hands were fisted as he glared at the captured form of one of the Gamemaster’s assistants, a Game Administrator called Joker (which Mai had stated many times was a little too on the nose even with the whole game theme going on).
It made sense though, Marco thought, for Haruta to be the angriest of their family. Haruta, had firsthand experience in people playing with their lives for fun, and although at the end of it all he’d found family in the Whitebeards it wasn't before losing too many precious people to their own greed.
The Administrator, a stout man dressed in a green and yellow jester uniform, cackled wildly, “And why not? Isn’t that life? To risk your very lives for your dreams, to do whatever you need in order to protect you and yours?”
“How the hell is a giant death game protecting them?” Thatch asked.
“The more they fight, the more power they Collect, and the more they are Wielded, the more power they gain. Isn’t the sacrifice worth it then? All the more to protect their precious family.” Joker said coyly.
Haruta’s face twisted into a snarl, “You— “
“Enough.” Oyaji interjected. “We'll deal with him after I've greeted my wayward children.”
“No,” Joker said. “I think you’ll deal with me now.” A broadsword half the size of Oyaji’s bisento came crashing down from the sky behind the Jester, apparently slicing his bonds as he was soon up and jumping away from them.
Marco narrowed his eyes and gestured. In unison his Collectors began to move closer to him.
“Risking your life, crafting battle strategies, fighting for your very Souls, all for Fun! It makes… for a truly remarkable experience!” The Assistant flipped to stand atop the broadsword and smiled at them widely. “How's this for a time sink? Just another day and your log pose will be set, then you lot can sail off into the sunset. Tell me Phoenix, will you and your teammates be alive to join them? Will you Win the Soul Game?”
The Jester cackled, squatting to grip the broadsword in both hands whilst still atop it. “Now take up your Weapon, it's time for a Hidden Boss Event.”
Marco didn’t move, just resisted the urge to scowl at the man's mocking tone and watched as his family surrounded the Jester and grabbed at their weapons.
“I thought I told you,” Haruta snarled, sword out and ready to move. “You can’t play with their lives like that!”
“Hey it's not like I’m forcing them or anything; tell’em Phoenix, your increasing desire for Fun… your cravin’ for a fight like this.”
And Marco was, but the Game hadn’t changed him enough that he would say that out loud. Yet even with all their family watching, he couldn’t stop his hands from twitching. If only…
“The Fourth rule is that each group may only utilize the manpower of their own group to compete. No outside interference.”
As much as he’d love the help of the rest of their family, at the end of the day only those designated as Players could fight each other or a Game Admin. Even Reaya, Mai, and Chie, their group's Collectors, weren’t allowed to participate in combat, outside of collecting energy and giving Ace a power boost.
“And even if you’re not eager to fight now, I'm sure you lot can see the benefits of 'participating’ in an Event that only your group is aware of and thus,” the Jester smirked. “Reaping the benefits. Imagine the kind of power your Collectors could gather if you were to win this fight, and take the soul of an Administrator.” He leaned over so far it seemed like he might fall off his sword. “Imagine how powerful your Weapon could become.”
Marco was the First Division Commander of the Whitebeards and this overt attempt to manipulate him was almost physically painful to listen to.
And yet—
Damn if it didn’t work, because Joker had a point as annoying as that was. If— when they won this fight, it would be all the more power for Ace and they’d be that much closer to Winning this game. He also doubted the Jester Admin would give them a choice in participating anyway. Events were rarely optional.
(and if he were being really honest with himself: he wanted to win this Event for the sake of Winning. and to feel that sensation again, that of a living soul, his brother's soul in his hands. his Weapon to wield.
souls were warm and so easy to manipulate, especially when they were in Weapon form. that feeling of completion when he and Ace fought together… when they were Winning together? it was indescribable.
this wasn’t called the Soul Game for no reason.)
“My children are not weapons,” Oyaji declared and his face had such a heavy expresion, full of focused anger.
“Nor are they your paythings in this game of yours,” Izo added and the rest of the gathered crew added their affirmation.
Marco should have felt touched at the declarations, but all he could think was that this whole debacle was taking too long; he just wanted this inevitable fight to start so he could Win.
“This is nice and all, but he’s right,” Mai said with a sigh, unknowingly echoing his thoughts. “Defeating him would be a huge power boost.”
“Mai!” Chie snapped, eyes wide.
“What? I’m right. ‘Sides, it's not like any of the fam could help anyway. Am I right, you damn clown?”
Said clown frowned at her, “I’m the Gamemasters Jester girl, watch your tone.” Mai rolled her eyes. “And you should know better by now: the crowd cannot interfere with the Game. Any interference will result in your team forfeiting.”
Mai waved toward the Jester, “See?”
“What’s wrong with a forfeit?” Haruta asked incredulously. “I hate ‘em too but at least that means you can kickass later.”
“Well ya see Commander, to forfeit is also to Lose, which is pretty dangerous when it’s your soul on the line. Besides,” Mai gave him a wide smile as she tilted her head toward him. “We want to Win the Game, and this isn’t the sort of thing you get a do over with.”
Their family seemed to still at her words.
“You...” Thatch glanced from her to Chie and Reaya and then to Marco, “You actually want to play?”
Marco didn’t respond. It was the rare person that could look Thatch in the eye and lie to him when he was asking so genuinely.
“Marco?”
The Jester cackled again, “It's like I said, the rewards for this game are simply too great!”
“He’s joking right?” Haruta asked, a desperate look in his eye. He lowered his rapier as he looked from Marco to the Collectors (nurses. did it matter?) and back. “You don’t actually want to risk your life, your souls on a game right? What the hell kind of reward is worth all this?”
Marco gave him and the rest of their family a bland smile, “It’s more Fun than it looks and… that's really all it is.”
“Are you serious?!” It was only because of Jozu that Haruta didn’t close the distance and attempt to stab him. “If you die— ”
“This game has changed you Marco,” Jozu cut in. “You’d risk the lives of your younger siblings for what? Power? You’re a commander and elder brother of this crew, where are your priorities?”
Haruta lunged forward again but couldn't break Jozu’s grip. “They talk about them like tools! Our family, our siblings, just weapons and pawns, pieces of a damn game. Ace is— fucking look what they did to him!”
But Ace was fine. He was flushing because most of the crew were shooting him concerned glances but physically he was fine. He sat near Whitebeard's feet where the head nurse had bundled him in blankets after taking one look at his face.
To be fair to her, they had just come out of a fight right before their family had found them. Ace always looked (and felt) a little weary after a fight. Pale, tired, listless and with a severe lack of hunger, (and now that he thought about it that was probably what had her most concerned).
Having your soul used as a weapon would do that to you.
Ace was worn out but he was fine in the ways he needed to be. If— when they fought Joker he’d be able to be used.
(used like a weapon, like a Weapon. a thing to be used, but did thinking like that matter anymore when the only thing they wanted was to Win?)
And their family was still looking and Ace was boring a hole into the ground, cheeks pink. In that moment, Marco wanted nothing more than to feel Ace’s embarrassment for himself.
He could do it; when Ace was a Weapon and his soul was bare only to Marco who wielded him. He could reach into his brother as he’d done dozens of times before during this Game and feel that bashfulness for himself, feel everything Ace’s felt because when Wielder Wielded Weapon they were One.
He imagined Ace in his Weapon form would burn hotter than usual with his embarrassment.
“To be fair, we technically are pawns in this Game. Everyone has a role to play on their team, and we’re fulfilling those roles in order to Play.” (Nurse/Collector) Reaya chimed in, though judging by everyone's expression (sans the Jester’s) they did not think it was fair, nor did they really want to know specifics. “A Collector collects energy for power ups, a Wielder defeats the other team directly and the Weapon aids him in that. It's just like home right? Us nurses support the fighters and buff the Weapons!”
Thatch looked uneasy and Haruta straight up nauseas as Reaya talked and most of their family had disturbed looks on their faces.
“Do you even hear yourselves?” the Head Nurse snapped (and was it strange that Marco felt her name was less important than her title?) “You are not pawns. Your brother is not a weapon, and Ace’s soul being torn from his body and used to fight should not be normal to you!”
“He's not hurt when his soul is taken out,” Marco cut in sharply.
Izo shot him a look, “That's not quite the point dearest brother.”
“Commander,” came the voice of someone from his division. “That’s really fucked up.”
There were further murmurs from the crew, but Marco didn't care anymore, he ignored the intense gaze Oyaji was leveling at him, and the Head Nurses wary one, and walked over to where Ace sat. Their youngest brother was sitting on a cushioned bench Izo had probably brought out, blankets pooling around him.
Ace still had that look of self-consciousness, but as Marco stepped behind him he bowed his head and displaced the blankets over his shoulders. Then in a practiced movement, Marco plunged his hand into Ace’s back.
Ace jerked forward on the impact and Marco had the brief but almost absentminded realization that this Game had affected him a lot more than he thought, because when the crew cried out in horror Marco didn’t hesitate. He made no attempt to comfort them, to explain, or justify his actions, just sank his arm in deeper.
Making sure his grip was solid, he pulled up, quickly but smoothly until Ace’s soul rose up and formed itself into his Weapon; a black and gold scythe, all sharp edges and beveled frame.
Marco spun Golden Daze around as Ace’s body slumped to the side, reveling in how perfect it felt in his hand, how perfect his brother was for being so strong and bearing through all the chaos and discomfort in order to be the Weapon Marco needed to compete in the Game. He looked up.
Reaya, Mai, and Chie stood before him, backs half turned to him to keep one eye on the Jester. Reaya gave him a shaky smile.
“Rule Five is this: that no matter how many groups you beat, or Events you win, or power you Collect, at the end of it all…”
Marco stepped around Ace’s empty body and twirled the scythe around until it rested on his shoulder. His Collectors braced themselves and the Jester Admin began to laugh louder and louder, almost bouncing on top of his broadsword.
“Are you ready Ace?” Marco asked, and as loud as the Jester was he knew everyone could hear him. “We’re done talking, it's time to Play.”
“To be the undisputed winner of this game, you must be the group who best embodies the spirit of the Soul Game. Of Hunger, of Fun, and of the need to Win.”