Chapter Text
Vergo didn't have a good memory, or so he was told. He couldn't fully recall what life was like before he was taken in by Trebol, Diamante, and Pica. Blurry memories of tears, fear, and the heave in his chest as he ran. From where and who, he didn't know. Nor did he exactly want to. He was too desperate for survival, and of being of use to Trebol, to care of a memory long lost. What good would it do, to remember a home that no longer wants him?
The days passing by seem fast when you're desperate to survive. Trebol would give him a task to do, and he'd do it. Otherwise, he was free. It was something to feel grateful for, Trebol would say. That there were many people who were enslaved, or killed, without ever knowing freedom by the Gods of this world. The celestial dragon. Celestial dragons were absolute beings that nobody could ever fight back against. With the blood of this world's creator flowing through them, they hold the absolute rights to everything this world has to offer. It was obvious to all that such God's were not merciful. They were cruel, all of them.
Trebol's connection to the underworld made it easy for Vergo to witness the difference of the world they lived in. And it was also obvious to see the distaste that all humans had towards the celestial dragon. Fear, envy, and wrath. Those emotions were common in the eyes of those who gazed at a celestial dragon, even in Trebol, Diamante, and Pica. Vergo, unlike them, felt close to nothing. Distaste was a given. But if he needed to kneel to the celestial dragons to survive, then he would do so. Nothing close to the hatred that festered under the skin of the others. Perhaps it was because Vergo didn't find anything new in the actions of the celestial dragons. Humans could do things just as ugly as them. All living beings are cruel, to some extent. But if he still had his memories, would such an opinion change?
Some time had passed since Vergo was taken in by Trebol's crew, and a rumor began to surface. A rumor that fed the fire of hatred. A group of Celestial Dragons, who were stripped of the world government's protection, built a mansion to live within this island. A hunt began, to capture and torture them in the most brutal way one could.
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"Hey, hey...Vergo!", Trebol had called out to Vergo, who sat outside the shed they were staying in, on a dirty mattress. The tall man, slightly hunched over, walked over to Trebol whilst sniffling in the snot that seemed to always leak from his nose. A large hand was placed onto Vergo's shoulder, which made Vergo glance up at the tall man.
"Hey... Have you heard of the celestial dragons roaming around?! Listen, Vergo... Go scout out for them, mkay? Doesn't matter if they're dead or alive when you find 'em... As long as they exist, imagine the price people would pay for a celestial dragon, even if it's a corpse! Beh heh heh! I heard a rumor that they were going to capture and torture them today! It’s a perfect opportunity, right?"
"...Alright, Trebol. I'll go look." Vergo stood up and brushed some dust off of his shorts, before picking up a metal pipe. "Should I bring them back to you, whether alive or dead?"
At Vergo's question, a large and sharp smirk graced Trebol's lips. "Yes. Bring them back."
That was all the confirmation Vergo needed. With the pipe in hand, he ran off towards the more populated area within the island. The town already looked offputting, with almost nobody walking the streets. The sun was beginning to set, and the orange-red hue that graced the streets made it look more eerie than usual. Vergo kept on looking around, until a man holding a torch ran off down the streets.
"It's this way! We found them! We found the celestial dragons!" The mobs yelled out at each other. Vergo followed silently while blending into the crowd, until he eventually reached a tall building, bathed with fire. The sun's orange-red hue slowly faded, but the way the fire raged made it almost seem as if it didn't. The building was surrounded by townspeople, all holding torches, spears, bows. Tools used to hurt the celestial dragons, no doubt.
With the distance Vergo stood, he couldn't see how many people…no, how many celestial dragons were being strung up above the fire. Vergo gripped his metal pipe tightly, before walking in. The crowds pushed and screamed. Sobs, cries and wails of rage was all that entered Vergo’s ears. Vergo kept on pushing and squeezing in between all the men and women that gathered, using his hands and his pipe to find some space to breathe. The smoke from the torches and building made him cough and wheeze, but he ignored the way his lung burned. He was used to it. He finally squirmed free from the large cluster of mobs, and into a slightly open area, close enough to witness what he could deem an execution...
His eyes widened beneath his shades, at the sight of three blond figures, strung down by the windows. All of them, crying. Two boys, and one man. Father and sons. Vergo simply stared at the man crying and begging for mercy for his son's lives, whilst one of the boys simply begged for the sweet relief of death. Vergo pursed his lips tight at the sight. At the loud cries, from both the celestial dragons and the humans. The people poured out their hatred, and their anger. Vomiting it all out onto the three beings, strung high up above them. The more the people spoke, the more the anger festered.
An arrow shot up from within the crowd, aimed at one of the boy strung up. It shot him in his stomach, and a scream rang out, which made Vergo's eye twitch slightly. The piercing shriek wasn't anything pleasant to listen to. As the mobs clamored, and the people took out their anger on the three celestial beings, a voice rang out. Vergo's eyes snapped over, and his eyes widened, as the boy who was just shot showed no expression of fear... but of anger. Sneering at the mobs below, more akin to a Demon than a celestial being.
"YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS… I’LL GET EVEN, I SWEAR IT!!" The boy screamed, his voice rough and scratchy from the smoke. "I WON’T DIE...!!! I WILL SURVIVE THE WORST YOU CAN THROW AT ME... AND I WILL HUNT YOU ALLDOWN... AND I WILL KILL EACH AND EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU!!!"
Vergo stiffened, as did all who stood at the scene. A shiver went down Vergo’s spine, and one by one, the men around him began to fall over unconscious. Vergo had heard of this before... Haki. Trebol talked of it often, especially because he had mentioned that Vergo was also born with a powerful Haki. As the townspeople began to fall unconscious one by one, some of them remained standing, with a mad look in their eyes, they glared up at the boy whose haki had overwhelmed the other townspeople. One of the men grabbed a bow discarded on the floor, and aimed it up at Doflamingo with the intent to kill him. Vergo, noticing it, quickly ran over. He didn't know why... Why did he feel as if he couldn't let the boy be killed? Dead or alive was Trebol's words, so why?
Vergo was too late, as he tried to swing the metal pipe down onto the man's head, the arrow was shot, and it shot right into the boy's right eye with a crack. A scream rang out, and Vergo knocked the man unconscious with his pipe. He couldn't think clearly. Something inside of him, an emotion he's never felt before, made him act up. He knocked the remaining conscious people unconscious, his hands shaking and clammy around the metal pipe he held as he hit the townspeople in the head, over and over again. This wasn’t done out of what was right and wrong. Vergo didn’t feel as if the townspeople were in the wrong for attacking a celestial dragon… So why was he doing this? Nobody answered his question, and despite the men being beaten unconscious by Vergo, the fire was still growing and threatening to swallow up the celestial dragons..
Charging into the burning building would be a suicide mission. Even light headed, Vergo knew that much. Just as he felt as if there would be nothing he could do, a drop of water landed onto his shades. Vergo stood still, his stiff muscles beginning to slowly loosen as rain...rain began to fall from the sky. The rain, slowly but surely, extinguished the flames, bit by bit, until all that remained were smokes and burnt wood.
Vergo was never one to believe in God... but right then and there... the boy, all bloody with arrows shot into his small and frail body. The boy, whose face was messy with bruises and cuts... was a God in his eyes.