[3350 words]
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The Undying spent the next two weeks under the guidance of the God of War. With Ares' combat sense and life of strife, he could unload an arsenal of knowledge and techniques.
*Krrrr* *Szzzzz*
In the depths of Eternal Hell, a shirtless Damien stood like a tempest forged from molten fury, his presence unsettling even the darkest corners of Impel Down. His body pulsed with newfound, seething energy—a harmony between his Armament Haki and the Pulverization Fruit's raw power. This fusion manifested as a molten-like Haki that coursed over his skin, blazing in fiery, red-orange cracks that seemed to breathe with a life of their own.
"Ruhahahaha! It looks like your Armament Haki was waiting for a little push to evolve. It really is impressive!"
Ten days of war under Buddha shockwaves and a primal ape's explosions, alongside Ares' two weeks of training, had also sharpened his appearance—the striking resemblance to the War God was unmistakable!
[Current Damien Image (in Discord)]
.
Damien breathed in his frenzy state. With a flex, he flooded his left arm with the energy, allowing it to concentrate along the limb.
*Fwwm!* It was similar to the usual black sheet but filled with cracks of atomizing power. A callback to his very first power-up, but so much more.
'Where my Empyrean Release held the pulverizing energy in place, requiring double the energy… this Haki has both flowing in harmony and becoming one… an Empyrean Haki!'
Simultaneously, a blue screen flashed in his mind.
[Armament Haki Mastery has reached the Grandmastery (I) Stage.]
As per reaching Grandmastery, Damien unlocked his version of the Ultimate Skill alongside his {Empathy}, {Destiny Perception}, {Natural Dread}, and now {Empyrean Haki}.
[Empyrean Haki: Perfect harmony between Ryuo and Atomizing energy.]
[New Haki Image (in Discord)]
.
Damien savoured the feeling, only to be graced with a thunderous smack. *Bang!* Ares tattooed his hand to his son's back, laughing out loud, "I've never seen anything like that. As expected of my boy!"
The Sin Incarnate reined in his new Colours of Arms, his mind stuck on another thought: "I'll need some more time for Observation Killing, though," he sighed with pity, shaking his head.
"..." Meanwhile, Ares' smile twitched from the comment, "Hey, hey, don't be so greedy. You know that Conqueror's Haki can't be trained like that–"
He suddenly felt a sharp, throbbing pain run down the left side of his body. With a grunt, Ares hunched over, clutching his heart.
Damien quietly watched his old man panting through the pain. "How long can you hold on?"
"Heh," Ares chuckled, looking up with bloodied teeth. "I still have a couple months left. Why? Are you feeling sad about your dad? Come, let me give you a hug!"
Bam!
A sizzling boot smacked the older pirate, throwing him across the floor and crashing into a wall, his hand slamming on a diamond-hard bar with enough force to shatter a normal man's skull.
"I want you to meet a few people," Damien explained in the direction of the dust cloud.
Ares found his way out of the crash zone, seeming quite curious. "Oh, my son's trusted companions?" Though his eyes suddenly became playful, "And someone a little more special than that…"
Damien shrugged at the insinuation, "You could say that."
Ares shot up from the floor, standing roughly eye-to-eye with Damien, squinting as if to read his very soul.
"Ruhahaha! As expected, my son is popular with the ladies. Reminds me of myself!"
However, he suddenly froze. For some reason, Ares thought he was missing a few pieces of the puzzle. "More than one?" he blinked.
Damien nodded candidly.
Ares felt his mouth dry up, "Your mother would kill me if I tried something like that…" Though his face turned cheery once again, "Ruhahaha! I look forward to meeting my daughters."
There was relief hidden under the glint of his single eye. Relief that his eventual grandchildren would have a better father than he ever was.
"So," Ares solemnly said. "When do we plan on leaving here?"
Damien looked at the darkness around him, feeling all the knocked-out prisoners. "The World Government has made quite the dent in the pirate population in the past half-month. I suppose it's time to spice things up…"
The Sin Incarnate's crimson eyes flashed with mischief as he approached a gloomy cell.
"How 'bout it, Mors. You wanna get out of here?"
The frightening words resounded in the dark enclosure, reaching the ears of the aged pirate. Two cold eyes fell upon Damien, almost as if trying to decipher his every intent.
"What's in it for you?"
Damien smirked. "Well, though I'm ready to break out, my fellow companions are not prepared to take on the full brunt of the World Government," the young pirate explained. "So I need a few people to take some of that heat."
Mors breathed deeply as he considered the options. But his silence didn't last long…
Clang!
The thick chains snapped as the titanous man stood up and walked to the gate, looking down to meet the undying pirate eye-to-eye.
"If you wanted that, you could just break open all the other cells in this entire floor, let alone this prison. So what else do you want from me?"
Damien grinned at the man's speculation; his skepticism was warranted.
"One added condition for your release," he offered, studying the monster before him. "You will give me your Devil Fruit when you are about to die, whenever that may be."
Mors narrowed his eyes, glaring into Damien's very soul.
*Fwooo* An ominous breeze picked up while the Bloodspawn's thick braided hair and beard floated in the air, strand by strand, crackling with black lightning.
Boom!
A seething reddish purple field of Haki suddenly raged out, enveloping the younger pirate. The air was screeching in pain, releasing sharp frequency sounds like scratching your nails on a chalkboard.
Ares watched with interest from the side, smirking at the sight of the unmoved Damien.
"..."
"Morararara!"
The tense atmosphere crumbled within seconds as the hulking pirate burst into deep laughter.
He gave a devious smile that resembled a rekindled flame. "I am already at my life's end, so going down under the flames of war is far more inviting than rotting away in this cell."
With a firm nod, he promised, "You can have my fruit when I'm at death's door, even if I have to come back from the afterlife to give it to you!"
Damien was pleased, a smile stretching across his face.
He placed his hand on the Seastone door, and with a little force, the metal warped around the fingers.
*Krrr* Boom! The gate was ripped off its hinges, allowing Damien entry. The thick chains were broken with similar ease, granting freedom to the pirate who had been locked up for over thirty years!
.
Ares, who was outside the cell, squinted his sole eye, exhaling a dangerous breath: "Bloodspawn, you better not try anything."
Mors walked out of the cell, stretching his muscles.
"Don't insult me, Ares," he scoffed, cracking his neck from decades of stiffness. "A Warborn always pays his debts."
The father of the year hummed and turned to Damien, who had walked up to another cell with the same scheming smile.
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"Looks like Linlin and Shiki left you in quite the mess…" the young pirate muttered, knocking on the cell to announce his arrival.
The woman within looked up with eyes the colour of the infinite sky. Her pale blonde hair cascaded down the prisoner garb, but it didn't detract from her beauty.
"How about it? Do you want to go and take revenge on those who threw you in here? 'Fallen Angel' Herja!"
The once-feared threat, Captain of the Valkyrie Pirates. Her silky hair was unsullied even after two years.
"You were the one who took down Enigma, the Sin Incarnate," she softly said. "What happened? Did Rocks leave you to die?"
Damien almost laughed, "Rocks? He's dead."
Herja's eyes widened, and her jaw fell open.
Meanwhile, the undying pirate took the time to tear open the door again.
The warped metal door crashed to the side, allowing Damien to enter and remove the woman's cuffs.
Herja looked at the thick shackles on the floor, the echo still drumming across the Eternal Hell.
"Why?"
Damien met her bright eyes and casually replied, "Shiki left us for dead at God Valley. Give him my hello."
The woman narrowed her eyes, almost as if she were trying to read her liberator's thoughts. "Very well."
Boom!
The woman suddenly burst with a flash of white, bringing the day to a perpetually dark Eternal Hell. It was as bright as the sun, and the light had a comforting warmth attached to it, like a warm blanket.
Moments passed to reveal a changed Herja.
The woman stood poised with timeless grace, her golden armour glistening like liquid sunlight against her flawless skin, each polished plate echoing the elegance of a warrior goddess. Her long, platinum hair cascaded down her shoulders all the way to her feet, framing a face of ethereal beauty, both fierce and serene, with eyes that held an intensity capable of piercing the soul.
Though her armour exuded an aura of strength, her beauty remained undeniable, making her appear both as a vision of battle and a symbol of divine allure.
Sure enough, she was true to her moniker as the most beautiful woman in the world!
[Herja Image (in Discord)]
.
As of now, there were four endlessly dangerous prisoners outside their enclosures, and the guards of Impel Down were none the wiser.
Damien hummed a tune, walking to a few more such cells.
Boom!
The doors were thrown off one by one, allowing the ones inside to walk out. At first, they were reticent, fearful of the monsters at the center. But their personalities soon made their debut:
"Oh, freedom at last. They locked me away, tried to bury my art, but you can't cage brilliance, sorry thank you," a dark-haired prisoner said. Her eyes widened, a deranged smile twisting her face, wild and gleeful. "Now, I'll finish what I started… flesh, bone, screams—all mine again, sorry… thank you."
"Carmelion Nera," Damien addressed her. "You drove many species to extinction with your experiments while you were under the Government… eating them whole."
While Nera giggled to herself, the pirate's gaze settled on Hou P. Lace. A lanky, scarred man covered in wounds at every stage of healing, his face twisted into an eerie, tearless grin that echoed with his unsettling "haehaehae."
Born unable to feel pain or shed tears, Lace had always been an outcast, craving the comfort he never received. That craving twisted into sadistic cruelty, leaving him a deranged shell of a man—a fool doomed to rot wherever he ended up.
"Although you're batshit crazy, you have an interesting power."
Lace tilted his head with his permanent grin.
[Lace Image (in Discord)]
A third prisoner left Damien speechless with his attitude.
It was a sharp youngster named Lin Feng with sword eyebrows and jade skin: "Jie-Jie-Jie! After fifty years, this young master is free!"
The three prisoners were awfully lost in their liberation, giddy beyond belief.
.
"What are you planning?" Ares whispered to Damien.
Yet all he got in return was a smirk. "You three, don't get too comfortable now, I didn't free you to let you be free."
"..." The words caused a deafening silence and flared the trio's instincts.
Nera's form twisted and grew, scales rippling over her skin as feathers burst from her limbs, merging with fur in a chaotic blend of nature's fiercest predators. Her stuttering breath turned into guttural growls, and her once manic gaze burned with feral intensity, green eyes glowing like embers. She extended her clawed arms, wings stretching wide as her voice cracked into a mad cackle, "Sorry, thank you… for this… sorry, thank you."
[Nera Image (in Discord)]
Boom!
Lace's harrowing gaze remained grinning while his hands materialized yellow cages floating atop his palms, each holding a power that focussed on the mind rather than one's physical defenses.
Unlike the others, Lin Feng extended both arms without flair, each swirling with a cold metal glint. *Click* Clack* A moment later, they turned into giant machine guns!
Damien hummed in approval under the three's malicious gaze. Each having lost many screws either before their capture or while rotting in Impel Down for decades.
"All you Level Six prisoners are monsters of your times," he applauded. "But how long can you remain standing?"
An overpowering burst of Haki screamed across the floor, swallowing all three of them in its weight.
Thud!
Boom!
Bam!
They were brought to their knees, their faces planting to the cold, hard floor of Eternal Hell. The paralyzing Haki threw them out of their fruit powers, making them feel the cold embrace of death that was moments away.
"I only ate people for the good of the world…!"
"I-I can't die yet! I have to wear your face first!"
"Thirty years in Hedong and thirty years in Hexi, don't bully the young and poor!"
.
They each had a sales pitch under Damien's dreadful Haki, but it didn't amount to anything.
"You three barely add up to a bounty of a billion. Do you really think I have any use for washed-up rags of a forgotten era?"
The blunt words forced them to gulp in budding fear. Damien's undisguised glare scanned through them, reading out a few facts.
"Carmelion Nera, the user of the Glut-Glut Fruit. You give a new meaning to the saying, 'You are what you eat.'"
"'Hou P. Lace. The damned son who tortured and brutalized his own family in their minds, leaving their bodies untouched—the Psyche-Psyche Fruit."
"'Jade Arsenal' Lin Feng – Arms-Arms Fruit user who transformed himself to bomb Marine Bases."
"Amongst the hundred or so scum on this level, you guys have fruits well beyond your worth. The government hopes to keep power abilities from entering circulation so they can let you rot here."
A devious smile appeared on Damien's face as he dropped the bomb, "It's almost like they left you guys here for me."
The healthy complexion of the Sin Incarnate's arm began to grey out as a white fern-like pattern arrived. He extended the palm toward the three pirates as an ominous stream of energy came.
"Ughhh!"
They each croaked and screamed as if their own hearts were being pried out from their chests, ripping them straight out. Yet what came out wasn't an organ; it was a fruit, three of them.
Thud!
Each patterned fruit fell to the floor, the pirates mirroring the motion with their collapse.
*Fwooo* The air shook as Damien placed the prized fruits in his inventory, leaving silence behind.
Mors and Herja were both flabbergasted, looking as if they had seen a ghost. Ares' eyebrows were raised, his mouth forming an "O" shape.
"…"
"So that's how you intend to take my power at my death, aye?" Mors managed to say.
Herja shook her head in disbelief. "Such a power can turn the world upside down. Why take the risk by showing it to us?"
Damien heard their words and shrugged them off. "Do you think anyone will believe a long-standing fact being broken from two pirates?"
*Zap* With a wave of a hand, the de-fruited pirates were dusted away.
"Feel free to make your way to the surface; we'll join you in a bit." He looked at Herja and said, "Do as you wish with those who remain."
Damien and Ares made their flamboyant exit, their bodies quaking with synergizing Haki to strike down any opponent before they could speak.
Herja remained at Level Six, looking at the desperate inmates with disdain.
"I've spent years enduring the lustful remarks of you infernal dogs."
"W-Wait, wait! T-That was a joke!"
"Yeah… we were just praising your beauty!"
The beautiful woman scoffed, looking down on their pathetic responses. "Miserable scum like yourselves deserve only one end."
She raised one hand, flooding it with a pale light.
.
"Heaven's Fall!"
.
The dark Eternal Hell was lit with light beyond what the sun could produce. As the new dawn calmed down, it revealed all but two people still standing.
"You just undid decades of the Government's work," Mors surveyed his surroundings with a smirk. "You have my respect, Fallen Angel."
…
While the combined force of the Bloodspawn and the Fallen Angel made their way up the different Hells, another duo strolled through the Starvation Hell.
…
Most prisoners in the Starvation Hell had bounties of over fifty million Berry.
The heat from Level 4, the Blazing Hell, would endlessly seep up and into this level. That, in tandem with the sparse food and water, kept Starvation Hell's prisoners in a near-death state.
The temperature alone had left the floor to appear like a desert: dry and littered with breathing corpses across its endless sea of cells.
Soft steps echoed along the dunes of the layer, made by the father-son group of the Einar D. family.
Ares remained in his dusty, twenty-year-old shroud, but Damien had thrown on a new shirt.
A fitted black shirt adorned with intricate silver designs clung to his muscular frame and accentuated every sharp line of his physique. Crisp white pants contrasted sharply against the dark surroundings, with belts and buckles adding a rugged elegance to his look.
[New Clothes Image (in Discord)]
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"Hmm," Ares pondered, his boots sinking into the sand every step. "I wonder what could be so special to divert your attention here, Damien."
The younger pirate's eyes glanced at Ares before returning to the floor's sandy slopes—unnecessary suspense for a cliffhanger.
They walked through, kicking away sand and creating dusty trails as they went. The weeping cries of half-dead prisoners left the place awfully spooky, but it was nothing more than background music to the duo.
"Not 'what,' but 'who,'" Damien corrected; his target here was long-set. "I'm looking for a certain someone with an array of skills beyond simple combat. One that every crew needs…"
His words piqued Ares' attention. They walked ahead, ignoring the blaring alarms growing louder by the second.
…
After a good ten minutes, Damien stopped. He stood before an inconspicuous cell that was like all others: covered with the dead and dying, skulls and bones decorating the edges of the enclosure.
Of the thirty prisoners in the cramped cell, only half were breathing.
They looked past the humid air and onto the figures that blocked the light. The two silhouettes resembled mirages created from the sand. Yet amongst the dozen eyes was a sole pair of firm eyes.
The owner of the eyes was like a dried corpse; the only thing that showed life was the fact that his chest was ever-so-slightly expanded and constricted from respiration.
.
"His eyes are rather sharp for a man at death's door," Ares examined.
Damien nodded, scanning the gaunt figure slumped in the cell. "It wasn't easy tracking down the right list of prisoners—the updates are few and far between. But I'm glad to see you're still breathing," he remarked, a hint of impatience in his voice.
The nearly-dead man had no strength to reply, his gaze fixed in silence, too weak to respond.
A faint smile touched Damien's face as he continued, "I once had a fateful encounter with a man named Quentin Hammer. He built a Titan of a ship for me... or, rather, for the crew I was with back then…"
The words sent a ripple through the prisoner, leaving him visibly shaken.
The former Fourth Division Commander leaned closer, his voice laced with a rare hint of sympathy. "The Titanic he forged was a true monster of a vessel," he said quietly, almost to himself. "But even she fell from grace, abandoned, with no one to tend to her."
Damien's piercing gaze bore into the man's eyes as he delivered the final revelation: "Hammer told me, just days before he was killed, that his son was enslaved before his very eyes. That son… that's you, isn't it? Quentin Kraft!"
To Be Continued...
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Author's Corner.
Chapters 22 and 23 provide the backstory of Quentin Hammer, the man who forged the Titanic. I suggest reading those chapters to recall Kraft's past for the coming chapter of the jailbreak. Having a ship and a proper shipwright is essential for any crew... Oro Jackson, Moby Dick, Going Merry, Thousand Sunny, etc.
Images are available on Discord alongside other niche details: https://discord.gg/aJHHHPvb6q
[3930 words]
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"Hammer told me, just days before he was killed, that his son was enslaved before his very eyes. That son… that's you, isn't it? Quentin Kraft!"
Upon hearing his name, Kraft found the energy to move his head toward the mystery pirate. In turn, his own face was also discernible now.
He was in his late twenties, though due to the conditions of the Starvation Hell, he was at death's door: dried-up and cracked skin, pale and haggard face and protruding bones from the lack of food and water. His condition also highlighted the many scars decorating his back and chest. Whips, stabbings, and burn marks were the primary contenders.
.
Damien smiled at the sight of the man's attention. "I'm going to set sail under my own crew very soon, but no crew can be without a ship, and no ship can be without a shipwright."
"Do you want to get out of here, Kraft?" the pirate questioned.
The broken man, Quentin Kraft, closed his eyes; his breathing had spiked more than his dried heart could support.
He remembered how the previous decades had gone; it all came back within a few sentences that determined his fate…
"You damn brute! How dare you refuse a God! Cipher Pol…enslave this brute's son for me, hehe, now you'll know the price of disrespecting a Celestial Dragon! Your entire island will have my fury!"
He remembered his father's distraught face while chains were placed around his limbs and a remote explosive to his neck.
Years passed while he was marked with the Claw of the Dragon on his back and assumed the role of subhuman. His daily life consisted of being subjected to the whims of a Saint who was particularly fond of pushing the limits of human pain.
"Ehehehe! That's it. Get to work! If you wanna blame anyone, blame your pops, brat! Once you're old enough, I'm gonna make you carry me on your back like the dog you are!"
The snapping whip on his back and the electric baton jamming into his chest had become normal. And as he grew older, his saintly owner grew bored.
"Cheh, you're so tiny… I hoped you'd go big and burly like that Hammer guy. What a pity. Cipher Pol! I'm tired of this toy. Let him think over his father's sins in Impel Down!"
And just like that, three mandates uttered by a god had damned him in Starvation Hell. But it also allowed a certain Underworld Emperor to find his traces and report it to the Sin Incarnate…
.
Years of chains and scars had hardened him, but this—the faint promise of revenge—brought a tremor of life back to his broken spirit. Each lash, every dark memory branded across his back, burned anew, pulling him into the present.
"Revenge," Kraft mouthed, the word barely audible but weighted with decades of torment.
Damien hummed, unsurprised.
It was a simple yet powerful reason to persist in life in the One Piece World. Though it seldom ended well.
With a nod, the Sin Incarnate replied, "I can give you a chance at it, but a wise man once said, 'Know before embarking on a journey of revenge, dig two graves.'"
Watching from the side, Ares seemed quite pleased by the words and nodded. "A good saying. Which wise man said it?"
"Didn't I just say it?"
"…" Ignoring his speechless father, Damien extended his left arm through the gaps of the prison bars.
"You may feel life slipping away now," he said, his voice calm, "but consider this your chance to reclaim it." In his hand appeared a Devil Fruit, deceptively simple in appearance—a bright red apple with faint, mystical swirls that concealed an unimaginable power.
.
The apple fell in the eyes of the lifeless Kraft, bringing a yearning fire to break.
"Zoan-type, Human-Human Fruit," Damien introduced the ability he got from Wano. "Mythical Model of the First Man Adam."
"It will return your weak and withered body to its very peak of humankind. Follow me from now on, and I'll give you what you seek."
The magnetic words drew Kraft's attention, replaying again and again in his mind.
He had been here for over a decade, drying away and turning into a living corpse. Now, there was the bright light at the end of the tunnel, yet it was so bright that it left him apprehensive.
A string of life flooded out from his chest and came in the form of words, escaping his mouth that was as dry as a camel's tongue in the middle of a desert.
"A-Am I selling my soul to a demon…?"
Damien narrowed his eyes with a curious smile. He could sense that Kraft held some prejudices against pirates, credit to his childhood years. Yet all that precipitated significant loss and broken dreams, which were easy to exploit.
*Thwung!* The door flung open as the undying pirate entered, holding the mystical apple in the shrivelled-up Kraft's face.
The broken man's eyes locked onto the Devil Fruit while the voice of his 'saviour' echoed in his mind: "Once you're in hell, only the devil can help you."
"!!!" Kraft suddenly forgot the pain and weakness as every fiber of his being was commanding him to reach out.
An image of the burly and brash Quentin Hammer came to mind, forever telling his boy to seek great heights. "You worry too much, kid! If you want something, just go for it! I raise you in hopes you can forge the vessel to tame the seas! Dream a little!"
And so he did.
The bony hand slowly reached out from the floor, stretching with audible cracks and creaks as the fingers cupped the fruit. With great zeal, Kraft placed the apple in his mouth and bit down.
'You're gone…but won't dishonour your memory, old man!'
*Munch* The overpowering and disgusting taste was ignored as Kraft had no energy left to comment on it.
Bite after bite, he gulped down the fruit.
.
Damien returned to his father's side, patiently watching as the fruit disappeared into the prisoner. Ares smirked in appreciation of Kraft's determination. "I like this one," he applauded.
"!!!"
A surge of life suddenly churned in Kraft's body.
The pulsating feeling rang down his entire body, from his muscles to his tendons and bones. His heartbeat drummed without stop, boasting great strength and rejuvenation. Vitality returned to Kraft's face as the deep shrivels and cracked skin began to mend, springing with life.
His bone-like arms swelled, his deflated chest popped, and his entire body began to grow. The seas of scars decorating his back and chest faded and faded until they disappeared—he was reborn!
He stood up, feeling the strength and energy coursing through his veins. Kraft also felt much taller, and it was true. He jumped from a measly 6' 2" to a somewhat respectable 8' 2", growing two feet (1.88 m → 2.49 m)!
The great shock was visible in his eyes as he muttered, "I-I can speak without losing my sense of thought, all these years of torture from this terrible heat… All remedied within moments…"
Damien nodded at the fruit's magical nature. "Adam was said to have been the best of humans. You are now the first human personified, granting you vast talents in all fields, boosting a normal person like yourself into something truly special."
Kraft heard the unbelievable words and had no choice but to believe them. He looked past the bars of the cell and met his saviour's eyes. "Although I don't know who you are and what you plan for the seas… I will fulfill my promise! My old man's legacy lives with me now!"
"..."
Damien examined the reborn Kraft. He had short silver hair that was kept upwards. His face was of a young man, brimming with life.
"Your father did what he dreamed of: he built a ship that could carry the pirates that would burn the World Government down."
Kraft listened in silence, allowing the pirate to continue. "But that dream of his was forged under the embers of the hellish life he had to endure after your capture. An honest dream darkened into hatred for the World Government, corrupting his mind."
"Much like his dream, the Titanic he made was brought down in a blazing glory."
Damien sighed, his eyes filled with sympathy. "Though I can respect a man dying for his greatest wishes, I also can't help but think what a waste of life it is." He glanced at the quiet Kraft, "I'm not asking you to swallow your anger at the World Government; just don't let it define you."
"Unlike the Titanic, I want something that can not only face off against the might of the World Government but also a ship that can sail into the eras to come, conquering everything in their wake!"
*Thump* *Thump* *Thump*
Damien walked into the cell again, standing arm's distance from the reinvigorated Kraft, looking down at the much shorter man.
"So tell me, Quentin Kraft. Can you do that?"
A bright fire lit up in the man's eyes as he heard the booming remarks. The lost passion and dreams returned in waves, washing Kraft away into a sea of ambition.
His blue eyes grew firm, ultimately accepting his newfound identity. "I'll do it!" he loudly proclaimed.
Damien hummed, noticing the burning fire in the man's eyes.
"Alright then," he replied, exiting the cell. "My name is Einar D. Damien, call me Captain from now on."
.
The two made their way out of the torn-up cell, bathing in the starving heat of the floor.
Boom!
A thick hand slapped Damien's back, ringing it like a gong. "I must say, you have an eye for talent!" Ares laughed.
"You don't have to infuse Haki to pat my back," the younger pirate quipped.
Damien then began walking away, caring little about the groans and wails from the cells nearby. Ares was just as casual, staying at his son's side.
Kraft gulped at the desolate land, somewhat stunned. "Are we… just going to walk out?"
"Keep up now."
…
[Floor One]
Crimson Hell was known for its needle grass and blade trees, which made it a living hell for its prisoners. However, the current battle had terraformed it into a flat plain.
"Morararara!"
The giant Mors walked through a horde of jailers, breathing in the duel with great enthusiasm.
"Brother, w-what are you doing!?"
The exchange took place between two brothers, both jailers.
"Auhhh!" The older one slashed at his biological brother with a swish, cutting his head off.
"No, Nooo! H-How did it turn out like this?" the sibling killer murmured, his face pale.
Such things took place throughout the floor: fellow jailers turned on one another, cutting and shooting each other. Yet after each kill, the killers would weep and cry from their actions.
"I-It's the escaped convict. He's doing this!"
The veteran jailer rushed through the area, slashing his weapon at the enemy five times taller than himself.
His swinging sword gave birth to a geyser of fresh, warm blood. It exploded like a fountain, bathing the jailer with crimson juice.
"I-I got him!" he celebrated with crazed eyes.
*Wururu* However, the man was a little taken aback by the endless sea of blood bursting from his disintegrating enemy, swirling like it had a mind of its own.
"You fool, he's obviously an ability user!"
Before the jailer could react, a swarm of warm blood spiralled into the shape of Mors, standing behind his attacker.
"Aughh!"
The man cried in pain as a red spike burst out from his chest, holding him to the sky while his insides fell to the outsides.
"Morararara! I haven't taken a life in thirty years!!!"
Bullets fired, swords slashed, yet the pirate simply reformed, cutting apart his enemies.
.
While the jailers were distraught from the Bloodspawn's carnage, another fellow escapee was making her move: a bright flare suddenly went off, pure white in colour, blinding a battalion of guards on the other side of the floor.
"He's having too much fun," a woman's voice broke out. "Logia-type: Blood-Blood Fruit—it's quite the primal ability."
It was Herja who was watching Mors' massacre.
The most obvious power of the Blood Fruit was that it gave its users control of the blood of others, bending it to their will.
"I suppose I cannot blame him for letting loose… Those cuffs were unnecessarily tightened." The woman turned back to her battle, bringing up great holiness from her body.
"My eyes!"
"So bright, it's brighter than my future!"
The blinding light came with a burst of energy, taking the guards into the air and instantly knocking them out.
"S-So beautiful…!"
"She's an Angel!"
"Maybe we should let her free!"
The jailers watched in horrified awe as Herja's form shifted, her pale skin illuminating with an ethereal glow that seemed to cast the shadows back. Majestic wings unfurled from her back, feathers sharp and shimmering with gold as if forged from celestial fire. Her armour gleamed like molten metal, and as she rose, a crown of light erupted above her, casting a blinding halo that seemed almost too pure, too divine for the darkness of their prison.
[Transformed Herja Image (in Discord)]
…
A tormented Ponos arrived to see two Level Six disasters obliterate their way through Crimson Hell, leaving hundreds of his men dead.
*Clack* The cane tapped the floor, carrying the hunched weight of the Chief Warden. "Such a combination of devastating pirates. Truly an unforgivable mishap on my part."
Before anyone knew it, all but Ponos was left to deal with them on this floor.
"I will die before you can step foot beyond the walls of Impel Down," he declared, his aged body coiling with an eerie purple glow.
"Suit yourself," Mors quipped back, grinning savagely, his crimson skin pulsated with warmth.
At the same time, a wave of unease flashed on the Warden's face. 'Have they not yet received my emergency message?'
Herja, who was truly a sacred existence, couldn't help but smile with disdain. "Stalling is useless. I've jammed all your signals to Marineford with my light. No one will come to save you."
Ponos' grip over his cane tightened, much like the noose around his neck. "I assumed your ability would have run dry after all these years since your capture…"
The Fallen Angel bloomed with a proud smile, waving her divine wings. "My Faith-Faith Fruit may be bound by my followers, but what gave you the illusion that the Valkyrie Pirates were my only worshipers?"
The angel moved aside a few loose strands of her platinum-white hair, locking onto the lanky Warden, "The Celestial Dragons aren't the only ones who can make the fools of the Outer Seas accept their divinity."
"…" a grim air befell the floor, followed by a sigh from Ponos.
"Come on then." Ponos' eyes sharpened as he shot forth, his cane swinging with a violet light.
"Don't get in my way, Herja!" Mors smirked, slamming his maroon fist forth, carrying the weight of three decades of tolerance.
BAM!
…
Three more escapees soon arrived at the scene of the crime.
Damien stood with his father to his left and a changed Kraft to his right.
The Sin Incarnate clicked his tongue at the devastation. What used to be a nightmare filled with prickly red needled trees to torment its inmates had quickly transformed into a flatland of dust and debris.
At its core was a disfigured Ponos embedded into a crater with a tree spiking out from his chest. His supposed murderer, Mors, stood tall with bruises over his fists.
"The all-powerful offscreen Haki," Damien said under his breath.
"Impel Down has been inescapable since it was built. Their guard had dropped in quality," the giant man stated, calming down the blood surging through his veins.
The angelic Herja was as proud as she was divine in her angel form, gracefully floating in the air. She was the first to notice the anomaly: "Ponos. You're still breathing?"
The miserable Warden opened his tired eyes, feeling the metallic taste in his mouth, but it was the least of his worries.
"Hoh? As expected of the Pain-Pain Fruit… its user is also a tough egg to crack."
.
A sudden, desperate cry resounding across the first floor attracted everyone's attention: "Leave him alone!"
It came from a child no more than ten years of age. He was awfully tall for his age, the youth reflecting off the stoic face.
Kraft narrowed his eyes, recalling whispers he heard while being locked up. "I heard Ponos was raising a kid he found floating in the Calm Belt. He has grown up."
"M-Magellan!" Ponos managed to speak. "I told you to stay put…!"
Damien hummed at the child, who shared a striking resemblance to the future Warden of Impel Down.
"You want to stop us, kid?"
The tall child harrumphed, his face turning furious.
*Gurrup* Thick purple miasma began coursing out of his body, falling onto the floor with a sizzling sound—it was pure toxin!
"Oh, another crowd-control ability," Ares said with a smirk.
*Szzz* The thick purple fluid flowed from the boy's pores, bubbling with harrowing sounds.
"Morarara, this brat has balls, but he is far away from playing at this stage."
Damien glanced to the side, "Show me what you can do with that rifle."
Naturally, the man he was talking to was Quentin Kraft.
Kraft, who had ransacked the jailer's locker room to find some more comfortable clothes, sporting a brown jacket over a white shirt. Gray cargo pants with dark boots and gloves.
Around his head was a bandana and goggles, pushing up his silver-coloured hair. He had also picked up a vintage weapon, a sniper rifle, from a guard's locker.
[Quentin Kraft Image (in Discord)]
.
"My old man taught me to shoot at pirates before they could make land decades ago. For some reason, I feel like I can shoot a hundred times better now," he muttered to himself.
The rifle was aimed at the bubbling Magellan, Kraft's bright eyes shining through the scope. His concentration sharpened far beyond what a normal human could.
Bang!
A shot lacking hesitation, zooming across and nailing the monstrous Magellan in the chest.
*Splash*
A burst of purple poison ate up the bullet.
But it wasn't over yet.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Kraft's aim was top-notch. There was not even a single degree of visible recoil. He pulled the trigger in a continuous and fluid motion, sending out three shots.
The poison exploded once more, slowly deepening the crater forming at Magellan's chest.
"Guns don't work on me!" Magellan roared, rushing ahead with his monstrous figure.
Kraft felt the impending threat, yet oddly enough, his hands were even more stable, his eyes firmer. Without conscious thought, his fingers danced over the rifle, reloading with an effortless speed and mastery honed over countless battles. "He could've fooled me as a Logia..."
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
The rate of fire was more accurate than any robot could impose, and the precision of each bullet was flawless.
Each projectile hit the exact same mark at Magellan's sternum, slowly digging deeper and deeper through the thick coat of poison.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Three more shots and the copious amounts of the corrosive liquid had splattered enough to open a small window where Magellan's chest was exposed.
Bang!
One last shot and the blitzing figure of Magellan paused in the air. "Ugh!" The young boy groaned, feeling a hole in his torso.
He clawed at his chest, which began dripping with fresh blood.
"Y-You!"
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
The bullets found their way past the gaps of the poison-flooded fingers, digging their way into the future Warden's chest and lungs.
Magellan collapsed, his body falling with a loud clang.
"…"
Kraft lowered the sniper rifle, shock visible on his face. "What the hell…" he murmured.
*Smack* Damien's giant hand slapped his back, ringing him like a bell. "I told you that fruit bumps all your qualities to superhuman levels. Looks like your affinity with guns is pretty good."
His Captain's words brought Kraft out of his reverie. He slightly nodded, his mind swelling with shock, "Devil fruits really are truly incredible."
Ponos gnashed his teeth, finding the strength to raise his broken right arm in Magellan's direction. Each movement sent jolts of agony through him, but he forced his focus, channelling the depths of his pain.
.
"...Sorrow Step."
.
As he locked onto Magellan, the weight of his sorrow became a conduit, allowing him to bend reality just enough to fade Magellan from his place, teleporting him away in a surge of tortured willpower.
"You still have that much energy in you!?" Mors grumbled, slamming his giant foot onto Ponos' stomach.
Damien watched it all, examining the Pain Fruit user saving his pupil. With curiosity, he ambled ahead, walking till he was a meter from the grunting Warden.
"You channelled your grief and emotional pain from losing your protege, allowing your fruit to undo your worries…" he surmised, crouching down to look the man in the eyes. "Is that your Awakening?"
"That boy is the future of Impel Down… My death means little. Now go ahead and end me, pirate scum."
The Sin Incarnate chuckled at the man accepting death. "Don't worry. Your ability will not be forgotten like your life is soon to be."
The others watched Damien extending his arm toward the fallen jailkeeper.
The cracking skin followed by the absurd sight…
"It will never cease to amaze me," Herja sighed, shaking her head in envy as she saw Damien extract the Pain-Pain Fruit.
.
Meanwhile, Ares was having a discussion with the triumphant Kraft. "You can take down a brat, but without training, that talent is useless against real enemies."
The silver-haired escapee deeply exhaled, glancing at the Blood-human and Angel-woman next to his Captain. "Right… I'm still no match for the real monsters."
Damien extricated himself from the dead Warden's crater, addressing Kraft as he walked over: "I came looking for a shipwright and found a sniper and shipwright combo. It's not a bad find."
"Let's go outside now."
The band of pirates walked right outside with no care in the world.
As of now, Damien could be compared as the top-level threat in the world and was backed up by the likes of Ares, Mors and Herja; their combined power was enough to tear apart the New World.
…
With a firm nod, Damien led the group toward the exit, the oppressive darkness of the prison behind them. They stepped through the heavy doors, the chill of confinement fading as the distant sounds of the sea grew louder.
As they crossed the threshold, the blinding light hit Kraft like a wave, washing over him with warmth and vibrancy. The stark contrast from the cold, damp air of the Starvation Hell to the bright, sunlit world outside was overwhelming.
"I haven't tasted fresh sunlight in twenty years!" Kraft fell to his knees as they clanged onto the wooden floor.
Kraft inhaled deeply, the fresh sea air filling his lungs like life itself. He fell to his knees, overwhelmed by the weight of his newfound freedom, tears of bitterness and resolve trailing down his face. "Old man, I will finish what you started. You can rest in peace soon enough!" He looked over at his Captain, the reality settling in—he would build something the world would remember.
"I will definitely make it," he promised with thunderous resolve. "A ship that can conquer the seas!"
To Be Continued…
----------------------------------------------
Author's Corner.
Damien, Ares, Mors, Herja and Kraft have tasted free air once again. Recall the Adam Fruit gifted to Damien at Wano by Sukiyaki. Through Damien, Kraft sees a way to reclaim his identity, pay tribute to his father's legacy, and turn his suffering into strength.
What do you think is the first thing Damien will do with his freedom?
Images are available on Discord alongside other niche details: https://discord.gg/aJHHHPvb6q
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