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Anne doesn’t think. When does she ever think? She just runs forward, runs to protect her kid brother, who’s always always always getting himself into trouble, and–
Oh.
It’s been three years since Anne made her deal with the devil. She had almost forgotten what fire is supposed to feel like.
White hot flashes. She can’t move. Ice cold chills. She can’t breathe. Then nothing. She can’t feel anything, do anything, at all.
Anne is dying, and the worst part is that she’s dying in front of Luffy.
She stumbles into his arms. He’s covered in bright red blood. Her blood, she realizes. She’s lost too much. It takes everything she has left in her to look him in the eyes. One last time, before her vision fades.
Her poor crybaby brother. Anne wishes she could wipe his tears. He never would’ve been here if it wasn’t for her. It’s her fault, just like it was her fault when her mother died. Her lineage is cursed. So is she.
They used to burn witches at the stake, didn’t they? It seems to Anne like they never stopped.