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When Roger and his crew see the famous island appear on the horizon, slowly crawling out of the fog surrounding it, a huge smile takes over his face. They’ve made it! Finally! They’ve found the place not able to be found without the four Road Poneglyths! The island said to harbor the legendary treasure. The One Piece. And not just that. The true history of the Void Century too.
Oden is vibrating at his side, barely able to hold himself back from jumping into the water and setting foot onto it before everyone else and Rayleigh and Gaban stand on the railing, wearing matching expressions of satisfaction. The others already celebrate, beer and rum flowing, mugs raised with Bink’s Sake falling from their lips. It’s rowdy, like it usually is on the Oro Jackson, flying limbs everywhere, men being manhandled into dancing by their fellow crewmembers and Roger’s kinda disappointed that Red and Blue aren’t here to experience this with them. But they’re going to be great pirates one day and reach Raftel through their own prowess and with their own crews, he’s sure of that. They don’t need him to carve their path for them.
Their trusty vessel, that has carried them all the way through their adventures since Water Seven, doesn’t fail them now and gets them the rest of the way to the legendary island too. It anchors on an unassuming beach, with a stretch of white sand that leads towards a dense jungle. Pretty normal actually, compared to what they’ve seen from other islands. Too normal, if you ask him. He’s expected more grandeur. More weirdness. More interesting shapes and creatures roaming every inch of it. Maybe something like a giant beast guarding the treasure from the greedy hands of humans, if one ever found their way here.
There’s nothing here. No sounds, beside the ever present murmur of the sea and no signs of anyone or anything having been on this beach for ages. His Haki says so too, picks up no life-forms. Not even a bird that had made its nest here in hope of some peace and quiet.
“Well captain, that’s kind of a disappointment.” Rayleigh says, once they’ve set foot on the sand – Roger the first to do so, as his right as captain allows – and Oden has run off like usual to see everything there is to see here. “I’ve expected something… more I guess.”
“Me too.” Roger grumbles. He loves adventures, loves to discover new and exciting things. It looks like this one is going to be a boring one, if the only things to find are gold and history. “Tell the men to get everything down for a night on the beach. We’re still gonna party, even if there’s really nothing interesting here.”
A chuckle. “Of course! Like we need much of a reason to party at all!” Sharp eyes focus on him. “What about you?”
“I’m going to find out what makes this place so special.”
“Don’t try to get in any trouble! Seas know you’ll find it, even on a deserted island!”
Ignoring the teasing tone of his first mate, Roger shoves him and turns towards the jungle.
It shows that the vegetation was left to grow however it wants and hasn’t been set foot in for many, many years. There are no paths carved by animals regularly using them, so he has to make use of his trusty sword ‘Ace’ to create one on his own, to get to the deeper parts of the island. It hinders his progress a lot, so when the sun hits its highest point, he’s made it not even close to as far as he would’ve wanted. At least that way he won’t need to remember the way back. He’ll just use the only one existing.
He takes a break to get his breathing back under control, his sick lungs protesting against the humid air. Crocus will probably scold him for going over his own limits again, but he’s not going to stop, now that he’s almost reached his life’s goal. If he takes too much time to rest, the illness will claim him before he’s accomplished anything. He can’t let that happen, so he pushes himself up again, takes a look at the treetops, gauging their distance to the ground, before starting to jump along the lower branches upwards. He reaches the final one with a satisfied grin, pushes some leaves aside that hit him in the face with every motion of the branch beneath and takes a look around. It’s a good spot. He can clearly see a clearing not far ahead from his current position and a mountain a little further. Everything else just consists of the trees and underbrush he’s been battling through since reaching this place.
Confident in knowing where exactly he wants to go, he jumps back down and goes back to abusing his sword in a way it definitely is not a fan of, with how it’s leaking with displeasure at the action, but still allows him to do anyway, since it knows he’ll make up for it later. Finally, he cuts through the last lianas and giant ferns and stumbles onto a wide, open area, even wider than he’s assumed after seeing things from above. His eyes immediately travel to the – well, it would probably be called some kind of shelter, but it definitely doesn’t fall into the category of hut or anything else of the kind. It’s more like something a wild animal would build, but even their homes are usually more crafty than whatever this is. This is more like someone threw a bunch of sticks on a pile and wrapped it up with plenty of rope, then mounted it on a fallen trunk. It’s ridiculous. So much so, he can’t help but guffaw at it.
Then it occurs to him, that it’s unusual for something like this to be on an island supposed to be completely uninhabited. By the looks alone, this… whatever it is, could be blown over by a light breeze. It can never have stood here for long, let alone centuries. Someone must’ve been here recently to make it.
...were they deceived? Is this not Raftel after all? Did someone just play a game with them and made them look for all the Road Poneglyths, only to get a kick out of them realising it was all for nothing? He’ll show them just how funny that is. He owes Ace a good bloodbath after all that vegetation it had to get him through.
Finding them is going to be an entirely other thing though. There’s still no Haki signature around, except for his crew, that had scattered along the beach and Oden doing his own thing running around to see everything, so the perpetrator isn’t here right now.
Or so he thought.
“Ah! Cool cape-guy!”
The voice startles him so much, he’s sure his heart will give out early for a moment. He whirls around, Ace already leaving its scabbard in a single, practised motion, ready to strike down whoever could sneak up to him like that, with his Observation Haki on full power. Only air meets his weapon and the lack of hitting something makes him overbalance and stumble a few steps.
A chuckle reaches his ears. “Well, you’re more of an Ossan now, aren’t you?"
Again he turns, raises his sword in preparation of being attacked this time. Still nothing. No person. No attack. What the heck is going on? The entire clearing is vacant of anyone besides himself and he’s far enough from the jungle to have seen someone trying to hide in it. He’s no Rookie, but a seasoned pirate captain, who’s had his fair share of fights with some of the strongest people in the world. There shouldn’t be anyone fast enough to evade his attention like this!
In the end, the answer is as simple as it is obvious and it’s kind of embarrassing that he didn’t think of it until the one talking to him brings it up: “I’m up here, Cool cape-Ossan!"
It makes him look up immediately and the sight that greets him takes his breath. Then he forces the air back in, takes a few steps back, a grin taking over, matching the one of the being he has of course immediately recognized.
“So you finally show yourself to me too, huh? Thought I’d be too boring for your attention!”
“Never!” Nika laughs, shines the sun down on him with it, as he slowly descends from the sky. “I did lots of watching! Your adventures are the most interesting in centuries! You just never needed my help.”
“True.” They’ve been in a lot of dangerous situations. Those, that would’ve warranted asking for the Sun God’s help. But they’ve always been strong enough to get through them on their own, as a crew. Why ask someone else to have your adventures? “Every party is more fun with more people, though!”
“I’ll join you for the last one then!”
Ah, so he knows about that. Of course he does. It’s obvious to anyone spending more than a few minutes with Roger. The way his breath is coming harder after every fight. How his heart keeps failing its rhythm. How his hands tremble and won’t follow the simplest commands on bad days. Not to mention Crocus fussing over him when it comes to his drinking habits and how they’re going to shorten his remaining time even more. Not like it matters how long he still has anyway. Everything is already planned out. It will not be the illness that takes his life. “Good thing we brought extras then! The others will be delighted to hear we’ve got a guest of honour.” He says. The final party will be the greatest they’ve ever had.
“But inviting me’s not why you’re here.” It’s said so blunt, so matter-of-factly, Roger wonders for a moment, if it hides some kind of deep sadness. The ache of not having been sought out, only being invited in a matter of convenience.
“No it’s not.” He confirms, because there’s no reason to lie. Not telling the truth, trying to mislead a god known for his creative thinking and mischief, would only end in him spending the last months of his life looking over his shoulder in fear of reaping the crops of his mistake. He’s definitely not eager for that.
Nika leans back, until he’s caught by the very air itself and floats on it, red eyes squeezed shut in thought. “Hm… Might have to search for it first. Been some time since I cleaned up. But I’m sure we’ll find it.” A huge smile breaks the expression and Roger finds himself grabbed by the arm and pulled towards the mountain. He’s not even trying to fight it. This is way better than what he expected, after seeing how unassuming this island seems. Meeting Nika here of all places, a person he’s wanted to interact with ever since Whitebeard told him what kind of character he truly has, makes it already worth searching the Poneglyths.
And no, Roger’s not peeved about the fact that Whitebeard got to meet the god first! Not at all! Why should he? He’s meeting him now too! On Raftel! That’s way cooler!
He’s led to an opening in the rock, cleverly disguised as part of the mountain with vegetation and fallen logs. It’s the entrance to a cave, that would’ve been one hell of a bruise fest for anyone thinking they could traverse it without a torch, with how bumpy the road is, but Nika’s faint glow lights it up enough for it to be no problem for Roger. It’s good too, that he’s spent most of his life exploring islands with the weirdest terrains imaginable, so he instinctively jumps over every gap in the ground suddenly appearing out of nowhere, that his guide doesn’t even seem to notice. The perks of being able to float, he guesses.
Finally, the walls draw back and open up into a spacious room. One side has lots of little pedestals carved into the stone, each one displaying a random item – may it be a funny looking rock, an old looking brush, or a pen – as if it was one of the most important things in the world, while a corner harbors more things, carelessly piled up there. A nest of all kinds of blankets is in another, right next to what looks like a crudely made trapdoor.
Everything is overlooked by a tiny sun, hovering just beneath the ceiling and spending light.
“Am I intruding into the home of a god?” Roger asks, because it’s his first thought and he has the tendency to blurt it out without a filter.
“Nah, just a place I like to leave my stuff at, cause usually no one comes here.” A chuckle. “Looks like I’ll have to find somewhere else, now that Laughtale has been found again.”
He perks up at the strange way the god pronounced the name of the island. “Not yet, I’d say. I don’t plan on recording an Eternal Pose, or making the way of finding it known. But I do want to make people try to find it again, so there might be more traffic in a few years.”
“Seems like a great pirate age is to come.” Nika hums, touches down next to the trap door, pulls it open and lowers himself down into it. Roger hears him rummaging around, objects being thrown out that look suspiciously like gold and jewels. An entire crown barely misses his face, as it crashes into the wall behind him with a loud clang. Well, looks like he’s at least found the wealth-part of the One Piece. “Ah, there it is!” He quickly backs away from where he wanted to have a little peek at the space below, intrigued to know what exactly is down there, when he almost ends up with an arm full of childish god, who catapults himself out of it. Instead, Roger trips over one of the things lying around, goes down right where he stands and turns into the landing platform for said god in the process. His poor, sick lungs are not a fan of the abuse, as all the air is suddenly pressed out of them.
“Whoops!” Nika giggles and quickly takes back to the air.
The pirate groans, taking a moment to regain his breath, before sitting up. He’s really glad Rayleigh isn’t here right now to see the humiliation. Or anyone else for that matter. They’d never let him live it down. “At least I can say now, I was the stepping stone of the sun. Bet Whitebeard never had something similar.”
“You know Moustache-ossan?” Nika is immediately in his face again, without the added force of gravity though, which makes it not a problem this time. “Oh wait, of course you know him! You two are friends!”
“I’d call it more of a friendly rivalry.”
“Yeah, like I said! Friends!”
Choosing not to debate the difference between ‘friendly’ and ‘friends’ with someone known to fall into the simplest pattern for reasoning things – and knowing it’s kind of true anyway, so why deny it in the first place? – Roger turns his attention to the thing Nika is holding. A small object easily fitting into a closed fist, with a swirly pattern on its surface. “That the thing you were looking for?”
The god deflates with the change of topic, his red eyes loosing their fiery spark. “Yeah.” He sighs, shoulders slumping, making him look smaller than he is. Like a child even, not the centuries old being that created the sun to make life on earth a possibility. The object is presented to Roger in a reluctant manner, fingers twitching in an attempt not to pull back. The unwillingness to give it away is clear as day, which is odd after how sharing Whitebeard has described Nika and he debates for a moment to just turn around and leave. But then his curiosity kicks in – this is what he wanted to find Raftel for – overtakes his consideration of the feelings of the other and he can’t help but take it cautiously.
In the back of his mind he notices Nika backing away as soon as the object has left his hand. The rest is concentrated entirely on said object, which emits a cool sensation through his whole body from the points where it touches his fingers. It’s smooth, polished from many years of people’s hands fidgeting with it. Except where the swirls are. They are rough and edged, digging into his skin when he traces along them, unfaced by time and use.
“What is it?” He asks, cause the stone itself won’t give him any clues. He’s never seen anything like it. But then again, why hide it on an island unable to be found by normal methods and declare it part of a legendary treasure, if there were a thousand of the kind scattered in the world?
“A prison.”
The words almost make him drop it on the spot. Only the distant knowledge, that these kind of things have to be handled carefully or it could end up badly for everyone involved, make him grab it tighter instead. Why would someone want this to be found? Why would they spread the word of gaining the most freedom, by reaching this island and claiming the One Piece, if this is a part of it? A prison is no freedom! No matter what kind! And hearing the one called the Warrior of Liberation refer to it in that way, makes this the worst kind.
“Why keep it then? Why not destroy it, so it can’t harm anyone?” He wants to know. That’s the first thing he would do, so the other must’ve thought of it before.
“Because it can’t harm anyone.” Nika’s voice is a whisper and when Roger looks up, his face is twisted with grief. Silent tears gather in his eyes, that are quickly swept away by a hand coming up. The other is buried deeply in the blankets he’s sitting on cross-legged. “Only me.”
“Oh…” So it’s something that only affects him. Something that can prevent him from doing things, if Roger’s gathered his information right. Does it trap him on this island? No, he can leave. He’s visited Whitebeard many times and people all around the world are being helped by the god. So what else? What is considered a prison to someone spreading freedom wherever he goes?
Argh, he’s never been good at these implication things! Figuring out intentions and opinions through what has been said always was more of Rayleigh’s thing. Roger prefers following his gut feeling. It is way more straight forward and has never been wrong. And his gut tells him to not care about the ‘what’ and the ‘how’, only the way to make things better. How to wash away the bad emotions and put a smile back on this child’s face. Though a child he might not actually be, Roger can’t help but see it that way. He’s raised two firecrackers, loves them dearly with everything he has. Every sad child he’s seen since then, has pulled on his heartstrings and he can’t help but try to give them some hope back.
“Would it help, if I destroyed it instead?”
The god freezes, his head snaps up, unbelievably wide, brilliant red eyes piercing right into Roger’s soul. “You… don’t want to use it?”
“No.” He doesn’t even know what it’s used for, but he’s still sure of it. If it hurts Nika, the only thing he wants, is making sure it can’t be used ever again. “And I don’t want anyone else to use it either! So can I destroy it, or is it important?” His fingers itch to test the durability of this thing. To see if crushing it in his bare hands will be enough to end this nightmare plaguing the god, or if he’ll have to use Ace for it.
He’s watched for a moment longer, a searching frown wrinkling the god’s brow, then a beaming smile takes over. One that has the full force of the sun behind it. “Go ahead! It’s not going to be a problem!”
Maybe he should’ve thought more about the strange wording in that sentence. But there are a lot of things in his life he maybe should’ve done and didn’t do. Some he regrets, some he doesn’t think of anymore. Destroying this artefact is one thing he doesn’t want to include in that list, so he carefully closes his fist around it and squeezes. It’s surprisingly fragile, cracks right away, before turning to dust entirely under his strength. At the same moment, the tiny, light spending sun vanishes, plunging him in complete darkness and a kind of pressure he’s never experienced before crashes over him, stealing his breath for a second, before lifting again almost as fast as it came.
Startled by the sudden change, he whirls around, searches for the glow emitted by Nika, unable to find it. The black nothingness around him is unbroken. The god has disappeared.
Or so he thought, cause then he hears something shuffle to his right and the next moment, the whole cave is filled with wild laughter. It echoes in his ears, until the whole world is made out of it and he has to fight the instinct of joining in.
“Well, that surprised me!” Nika’s voice finally sounds, after the laughter has calmed down. “Never knew it packed such a punch! Hey, Cool cape-Ossan, you still here?”
“Of course. A little darkness can’t frighten me.” Which is true. The lack of light itself isn’t a problem. He was just worried about the other for a second, since his Haki is doing shit in detecting him and it must be pretty unusual for a god’s creations to just stop existing, unless the god themselves is seriously endangered.
“Good! Give me a sec, I just-” Something flickers. A little flame plops to life, golden in colour, throws it’s glow into the darkness and consumes it, until Roger is able to see Nika again, grin firmly in place. A second one follows, hovers closer to the pirate to act as his guiding light.
“I feared we’d have to split our skulls open on the attempt to get out of here.” He chuckles and curiously waves in the air close to the flame. He expected it to be hot, or at least a little warm, but it’s only made of light, not a real fire. Still, it reacts to the outside stimuli, flickering in the currents created by the movement. Finally, after having played enough, he turns back to Nika, throwing a thumb at it. “Those things are pretty cool.”
The god beams proudly at him. “Right? Took me some years to get a hang of it, but they’ve become pretty handy since then. I can do this too.” A hand reaches out, grabs the flame like it’s a physical object. It immediately stretches, becomes thinner until it takes the form of a spear, that lays comfortably in his hand, just like in those depictions of the Sun God.
“You gonna pull out a sword next?” Roger chuckles, remembering the other weapon shown in them.
“Nah, I always cut myself when I use one. But they do look pretty cool!” The spear vanishes, returns to being the flame it was before. “Wanna know about that lost history now? The sooner we do that, the sooner the party can start.”
“Sure, but explain to me what that plunging us into darkness just now was, while we go there.”
He does. They take the exact same way they entered the cave through to get out and the whole way of dodging stalactites and jumping over gaps, he’s told about the god’s power having reacted to the artifact’s destruction and if he hadn’t cancelled out everything at that exact moment, it would’ve lashed out, destroying the whole mountain in the process.
“Probably some kind of countermeasure against you destroying it.” Roger contemplates. “You can’t do that, if you have to seal everything away at the same time.”
“Yeah. A real sucker, that thing. I’m glad it’s gone now.” The relieve is not only in the voice, but the whole posture of the god. Shoulders that were tense before, sag now and he’s moving way more animatedly, pointing out funny looking cracks in the walls, telling stories of the stupid things he did when he found the cave and explored it for the first time and laughing his ass off, when Roger slipps in a puddle and nearly tumbles into a gap he’d just crossed.
The whole mood is a lot lighter, a lot less like the person who found the last island and the god obligated to give him his price. Whatever that thing had done to Nika, however it had hurt him, having it not accessible to the world but completely gone instead, freed him. Everything after that is fun for him too.
They walk back out into the sunlight and the flames vanish from their side. Nika stretches, basks in it, his glow slowly returning, then he turns to Roger, an excited spark in his red eyes, while a huge grin covers his face. “This time we’re going down, but cause this island is special, we won’t need flames to see.” He points at the weird shed-like thing Roger has seen when he first stepped out of the jungle and when they draw closer, he can make out some kind of hole in the ground. As they try to push the thing to the side to get better access, it immediately breaks, turning even more into a pile of useless wood and rope.
Nika puffs his cheeks at that. “Not again!” He whines. “I worked so hard on this one too!”
Better not comment, even if the poor quality of whatever it’s supposed to be, is extremely ridiculous. Roger already has to hide his smirk by looking away. He quickly slips through the hole, falling for a second or two and… lands waist deep in water, soaking his boots and pants and even part of his coat. Great! Just great!
“You couldn’t have warned me?” He asks the god, who follows behind him, but floats of course, so doesn’t get wet at all.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Is the answer, accompanied by a sly smirk. He expertly avoids the water Roger throws at him for the remark, then looks around in the flooded space and frowns. “Ah, it’s getting worse! I thought making a roof would keep at least some water away.”
That was supposed to be a roof? It didn’t even look close to one! Anyway, as Nika said before, there’s no need for his flames here, as the moss growing along the ceiling seems to be of the fluorescent type, giving them enough light to see everything perfectly. Which means, he only needs a short time for his eyes to adjust to it, before he can make out the by now familiar writing covering one side of the space. A Poneglyth. Buried under Raftel, half submerged in water and overgrown with moss, vines and roots but undeniably one of the stones telling the history of the world.
He’d usually go back to the surface, flare his Haki for Oden to find him and show it to him. But Roger isn’t sure if he can wait that long, now that he’s standing here. Now that he only has to stretch his arm out to touch it. The voices he’s used to hearing around Poneglyths already whisper in his mind, want to tell their story to him. Distant screams, battle cries, loved ones calling for each other, booming laughter. It all assaults him at once and it only takes a moment for him to break. For him to stop ignoring them and let them pull him into the time eight-hundred years ago. Into the time of the Void Century.
The last thing he hears, is Nika’s snicker. “It’s a Laughtale!”
Going from being the freest man in the world to spending your last days in a dark, damp brig, guarded by frightened looking Marine soldiers, that think only glancing at you dooms them, should be devastating.
It’s mostly just boring. No one to talk to, nothing to make this endless journey go by a little faster. He can’t even enjoy the sight of the sea he loves so much for a last time. He can only wait. Wait and hope Garp will fulfil his last request, as soon as Roger has taken his final breath. Not that he’d have many more of those even if he hadn’t handed himself over to the Marine. His lungs already struggle in the humid air under deck, scream at him with every inhale. Having it end sooner than later is honestly a relieve. He doesn’t want to know how it could be like, if he’d fight for every heartbeat. How it is to have your body failing entirely on you.
The only regret he has, is that he couldn’t ever see his child be born. That he couldn’t be with Rouge for longer or warn her himself of the danger awaiting her. He should’ve been more careful who saw him when he spent time in Baterilla. Now she’ll have to pay the price!
Seas, please Garp, reach her fast enough! If not, only the gods can help her.
Roger freezes, eyes blinking open from where he’s kept them closed, to have his good memories not be disturbed by the image of the cell he’s kept in. Of course! Why hasn’t he thought of that before? Nika will help! He can make sure Rouge will get out of Baterilla!
Taking a quick glance at the current guard – one of those barely able to look in his direction without breaking out in a sweat – he focusses his thoughts on the bright being he’d gotten to know on that day they found Laughtale and starts praying. He’s never done so before – didn’t need to – so he doesn’t know if he’s doing it right, but he must be, because it only takes a few seconds, for there to be a flash of light, followed by a loud crash, as the god enters the unexpectedly tight space and immediately trips over a pile of chains recklessly thrown to the floor. He stumbles into the guard, who doesn’t even have the time to realize what the fuck is going on, before both of them go down in a heap of limbs.
The poor Marine tries to get himself untangled, only causing the chair he’d been using to tip over and fall onto them, followed closely by the table the night watch had been playing a card game at to pass their boredom, trapping them even more.
Roger can’t help but burst out into laughter at the sight and isn’t able to calm down until the two of them finally separate, the Marine being a sobbing mess in the corner, probably regretting all of his life choices that brought him to this moment and Nika sitting there with a sheepish grin, entirely the wrong person to try and comfort him.
“Poor fella.” Roger comments. “He’s been on the edge of his seat the whole time and then you suddenly show up and make his day even worse.”
“Whose fault is that?” Nika retorts.
“I wasn’t the one who crashed into this room. Look, I can’t even stand up.” To proof his point, the Pirate King rattles his chains, leading to several bolts in the wall. Not like they are needed. He doesn’t plan to escape, they are merely for show and so the soldiers on this ship and those surrounding it, feel safer.
Nika hums in thought, then nods as if he’s come to the same conclusion. “True. So why did you call? Want to see the sea one last time?”
“No.” Roger sighs, relaxes back into a more comfortable position. “I’ve already said my last goodbye to it. There’s something else I need your help with.” He glances at the guard, unsure if he should continue while there’s another pair of ears listening in. Nika notices, grabs the guy around the shoulder in a motion of comradery and smiles at him.
“Don’t worry about him. He won’t tell anyone about it. Right?” The smile increases when the poor guard dares to look up, which makes him only shake more with fear. Roger won’t blame him. For those knowing the god, that expression is one of calm and reassurance. A sign that nothing bad will come to them. For an outsider, it looks like a predator who’s just caught his prey and is imagining all the different ways he can torture it, before finally releasing it from its suffering. So he’s not surprised when the guy shakes his head, not daring to even breath so close to, what is to him, a frightening otherworldly being, in fear of aggravating it. “See?” Nika laughs, lets the guy go after squeezing him extra close and turns back to Roger. “So what is it?”
After this trauma, there’s no way he’ll get a word out before the god can snatch Rouge away, so Roger explains his concerns and his plead and puts all of his feelings behind it. Especially when Nika starts to look like he’s eaten something sour.
“She gets a baby?” He asks, when Rodger has finished, sits on the floor with a hand to his chin.
“My child.”
“That might make things more complicated. Hm… Well, don’t worry, I’ll see what I can do.”
Relief lifts the weight from Rogers heart. “Thank you. I only have a short time left to live, but if there’s anything I can do to repay you, I’ll do it gladly.”
He gets a shake of the head and a reassuring smile in return. “You’ve already done more than I could’ve ever asked by getting rid of that thing.” A shudder at the memory, that is quickly shaken away. “If making sure your family can live peacefully helps you, I won’t hesitate to do it.”
Roger nods, because there are no words in this world to describe how grateful he is, that the love of his live and their child will be under the protection of the Sun God. He goes towards his death with a lifted head and an unwavering smile on his face, declaring the words that will change the world, creating a new pirate era.
Several years later, a dead body hits the white, tiled floor of a castle above the clouds, colouring them a deep, bloody red. It’s the same Marine officer, that had been guarding the Pirate King on his final day before the execution and had quit right after, prolonging his life through that choice. Five figures surround it, all wearing matching expressions of displeasure.
“These are concerning news.” One says.
“He’s gotten around the limits.” Another speaks.
“We’ll have to act. He can’t be let to do however he likes.” A third contributes.
As one, the figures turn to the transponder snail sitting on a small table among them.
“What are your orders, great Imu?” The fourth asks.
The snail shows no expression. You wouldn’t even think it is currently connected to another one.
“Find a way to capture him.” It says. “Make it so the agreement is seen as broken. I don’t care how, just get him to me.”
“As you wish, great Imu.” The fifth figure bows deeply towards the snail. “I already have a plan ready for that.”