Capítulo 167: [167] Departures and Destinies
An update was made to the first half of Chapter 153, which was misinterpreted by many. The conclusion is the same, but I made things more personal between Basara and Damien.
[3150 words]
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The feast under the moonlit Mortem Island was as wholesome as any place could get, considering the recent chaos spawned by the Sin Incarnate.
Ares, a man of war, had acquainted himself with his son's companions in the only way he knew how—through combat. Now acquainted, he could get to the nitty-gritty under the only way a pirate could—through a banquet!
A cheerful tune rang across the peaceful island, credited to a few Music Dials from Skypiea. The melody was both haunting and triumphant, carrying the weight of past struggles and hard-won peace. Drums pulsed steadily, grounding everyone in the moment. At the same time, flutes and strings added a bright, lilting counterpoint, filling the crowd with warmth and memory. It was a song that spoke of battles survived and bonds reforged, each note a reminder of lives fractured and now mended.
Around the banquet tables, faces glowed in the firelight, eyes reflecting both weariness and relief. Those who had endured the chaos with Damien raised their cups, feeling the pulse of resilience in every beat, while others who kept the island alive in his absence looked on with quiet pride. Tonight, beneath the stars, the music served as a promise—a brief pause from turmoil and a chance to savour this hard-earned peace together.
"So," a slightly drunk Ares began, wiping his lips off the saké. "How did you two meet him?"
The two girls looked at one another before peeking at Damien. All they got in return was a shrug, letting them tell the story in their own way.
Aurora went first, lightly clearing her throat. Not just Ares, but the others—Kuzan, Mihawk, Kraft, Solomon and even Indra—were awfully curious.
"It's nothing out of the ordinary," the young woman rolled her eyes. "It started with me trying to assassinate Damien at Sabaody. I tried slashing his throat open, but his skin was so tough!" Aurora puffed her cheeks, glaring at Damien from the corner of her eyes. "He broke a rib and punctured a lung, too."
Alas, she couldn't stay annoyed and leaked a thin smile. "But I guess I had it coming from trying to get the bounty on his head. He also helped me put my past to rest."
"Pfff!" Ares spat out his drink, dousing an unsuspecting Kuzan with the liquid. His sole eye fell on the girl looking at Damien with endearment. The son cracked a smile at the nostalgia, back when he was worth an abysmal hundred million. "Oh, the good ole days," he mused.
.
Toki was also smiling at their closeness. She turned to the speechless Ares and picked up from there.
"Hmm, mine isn't that special either?" she thought to herself, poking her cheek. "Well, it was technically set in motion over seven hundred and fifty years ago…"
As Toki went on, more jaws began to drop. Kuzan, under an alcoholic embrace, knew of Toki's actual age, but it was still baffling to hear. Kraft was the most shaken, being the ordinary man he was.
The girl brightly smiled at the thought of her past. "I was being chased by these grumpy and annoying people wanting to enslave me. I ran into a man with golden hair and eyes who gave me my fruit and a note." She cupped her chin, still unsure of how things came to this point. "...In one of my jumps to the future, I was pulled to this very island where I met Damien-san! He also fulfilled my greatest wish to go to my homeland of Wano!"
"..."
The thought of time travel was as confounding as it would be to people from Damien's previous life.
While Ares was left scratching his head, Damien was recounting how he met Toki.
The note from the previous system user was the same note that carried the second Memory Shard, two of three that he needed to uncover the mystery behind the original user.
"Assassination and time travel, just another Tuesday," he shrugged at the blank stare from his father.
The War God slumped down, his hands covering his face in despair. 'Here I thought my story of meeting Nadia before leaving Marineford in dust was special…' he mumbled to himself.
…
The next few hours went by fast. Ares had begun questioning Mihawk, Kuzan and Solomon.
Whether it was Yozora Island under fire from the Navy, Kuzan being enslaved and then rescued by Damien at Sabaody, ultimately killing four Nobles, or even Solomon's Extinction Valley that granted Endou his devastating power, all left Ares endlessly invested.
…
While the father had switched to telling the others his tales, Damien was conversing with three people.
"It's time to bid farewell to the Fourth Division."
Indra was behind his Commander as they looked at two people who stood out from the crowd. They were at the island's southern edge, near the ports where the Suicidal Rambo stood—it seemed like a goodbye ceremony.
Droga Pablo, the short and unassuming drug-concocting pistol user, breathed out smoke from his cigar. To his right was a young lad with grey skin and hair, wearing a simple robe over his stone-like body—it was a child version of Arai!
"You two are the remnants of the Fourth Division's Fodder," Damien addressed the duo. "Although I regret the deaths of the others, I'm glad that someone will be around to carry their legacy."
"Patrón, we signed up for death that day! I know I speak for my hermanos when I say this," Pablo bopped his chest in pride, "There's nothing to regret!"
The young lad raised a clenched fist by his side while putting on a dangerous scowl to look tough. "Akai remember papa Arai! No regrets!"
Damien chuckled at the 6-foot runt, pumping his fist while a few pebbles dribbled out of his body.
It turned out that the Stone People of North Blue would reproduce through death—their remains would reform into a younger version of themselves! Luckily, the Sin Incarnate was naturally in tune with life from his mother's powers. He sensed the specks of life from the rocks that he had handed to Pablo when they escaped from God Valley.
.
"So, have you decided?"
The drug maker hesitated. He looked to the man who gave him the fruit that made him valuable and then glanced at Indra, who recruited him. With the faces of his late Fodder coming to mind, he resolved himself to reply, "Patrón. I came into pirating to get money to start up my own pharmacy in East Blue. My Abuela died when we couldn't afford medicine, so I had to find other ways to get money while hoping to one day make it myself!"
Damien nodded. It was the same reason he was told back when the Fourth Division was formed.
"And you, Akai?"
The stone lad blinked, lowering his head in thought.
"..." He was putting a lot of thought into it but failed to find a reason. Thinking of his 'father' Arai, he remembered being captured by the Government and researched on by the World Government's scientists. It was a long three years of imprisonment under their probes.
Finally, with a hint of maturity odd for his age, Akai gave his answer: "Akai go with uncle Pablo!"
The drugmaker's eyes shot open while his jaw dropped. He looked at the stone boy in surprise.
"Akai is laughing at your face!" the child snickered at the look he got.
He turned to his Commander and nodded with a grin, "Akai protect uncle from bad people! Uncle weak without help."
.
Hearing their decision, Damien snapped his fingers.
*Fwoo!* The air quaked as a giant mountain of gold and jewels was carried out from the Night Realm, gracing the world with brilliance.
With another snap, he applied his Equal Exchange to convert the goodies into pure bars of gold, arranging them in a small heap.
"This is worth…" Damien paused for a moment, seeing Akai's childish glance. "...around two Indras."
Akai began clapping, looking at his Vice-Commander with admiration, to think a swordsman was half the worth of this heap of gold!
While Indra was left speechless from Damien's measuring, Pablo was taken aback. "Patrón… this is too much!"
"Nonsense. The survivors of God Valley can be counted on two hands. It wouldn't be odd for legends of yourself to break the seas one day. Take it. It will give you a nice head start to realize your dream."
Gulping at the absurdity of four billion berries, Pablo slowly nodded. He patted Akai's head, which looked rather odd since he was shorter than the lad. "Okay, Patrón. But if one day you need help, Akai and I will always answer!"
The grey-skinned child nodded twice, giving a thumbs-up.
"Go. The Suicidal Rambo is also yours. I had Aurora fit it with dials for easier navigation. The Sea Kings will guide you to the East Blue safely."
Pablo took Akai's hand, watched his Commander transport the gold onto the vessel, and then took what was most likely his final look at his pirating life.
With a deep breath as he stood at the ship's bow, he exclaimed, "I await the news of when you take the seas by the throat, Patrón! May the tides of this new era be with you!"
"Akai is saying goodbye!" the lad waved, his words jumbled as always.
…
[A few Hours Later]
While the Fourth Division had officially dissolved, the collection of pirates at the hearth was still active.
"My head hurts," a voice droned on.
It was from the silver-haired Kraft, who had pulled down his goggles and turned them to dark mode in order to catch some z's. It would be his first sound sleep since his enslaving decades ago.
He could overhear a conversation between Ares and the others, leaving him to think: 'So many monsters on this island… it really opened my eyes.'
For a commoner locked up indefinitely, being thrown into a crew with a combined bounty of over seven billion berries was a mind-boggling experience. He had unlocked a lot of potential after eating the fruit of Adam. Still, it would take abundant commitment to tap into that very potential.
…
"Oh, that's pretty awesome, blazing through Marineford all alone like that!" Kuzan remarked, conversing with Ares.
"Ruhahaha! Looks like you have some sense after all, kid!"
"Is Endou really that strong?" a curious voice came from the side. Ares glanced at Solomon, who seemed awfully solemn.
"That's right," he answered with a sharp voice. "Endou's Havoc-Havoc Fruit is considered an 'Extinction Fruit' as he used it to turn dozens of pirate-infested islands into history. It was known for its chaotic nature and ability to impose disorder whence he pleased."
Solomon, who heard the news, was furious. "Extinction Fruit, is it? That bastard destroyed my entire island to get that power. I really want to rip him apart!"
Ares sighed, recalling his past where he was felled. "Endou's chaotic energy could even disrupt the molecular bonds in matter, causing weapons to shatter, ships to break apart, and armour to disintegrate. Then again, he should have waned in power like me."
Solomon shook his head in frustration, bursting with a ghastly Haki. "I need to get stronger before he dies of old age. Endou's gotta pay for the hell he put my people into!"
The sweeping Colour of Supreme Kings shook the island, knocking down the wildlife without mercy. But to Ares, it was a victory: 'Four Conqueror's Haki users in one crew already… looks like they will cause quite the uproar when they sail out, Ruhahaha!'
.
"Ehh?" Ares' boisterous spirit dissolved as he saw Kuzan, who had previously chimed into their conversations, somehow asleep, sitting up, blowing bubbles and murmuring. Every breath he exhaled was attributed to the Ice Fruit, turning his exhalations into a white fog-like substance.
With a quick glance to a nearby area of the island, he saw another young lad, Mihawk, finishing up his nightly training by chopping away at trees for hours now, the same trees that would magically regrow after a few minutes.
Ares rubbed his forehead. "Where did he find these weird kids? I was still playing with sticks and stones when I was their age!"
…
Nearby, another conversation took place.
A green-haired girl sat facing Damien, intensely staring into his eyes.
The bright sparkle of the green pupils with her rare-serious gaze created quite the contrast with her gentle nature.
"Hmm, Damien-san, you feel different," the girl muttered, placing her right hand over the pirate's heart. "Distant, even."
Aurora, who sat to the side, also had a few thoughts. She examined Damien with her gem-like eyes: "Toki is right; your Haki feels darker and colder. Is there something you're not telling us?" she asked worriedly.
A moment of hesitation passed before he opened up, "It turned out that the man I was working under was also the one responsible for my mother's death."
The confession silenced both girls, their breath caught in their throats. Damien's voice was calm but carried an unmistakable bitterness as he continued.
"She told me to live for her if I couldn't live for myself. Those words kept me going, even when it felt like the world had nothing left for me. But when I found out the truth—about Xebec—" His words faltered for a moment, his jaw tightening. "I thought I'd failed her. I thought every step I took as a pirate dishonoured her memory. That I'd been nothing but a pawn in his game."
Aurora leaned forward, her eyes soft with concern. "But you know that's not true, Damien. You've saved so many—look at what you've built here. That's your legacy, not his."
Damien offered a faint smile, the weight on his shoulders easing just slightly. "I've come to terms with it… for the most part. I don't blame myself anymore. Her memory deserves better than that. But at the very least, I can't get his damned face out of my mind." His hand clenched into a fist, veins rising along his forearm, releasing sparks of dark Haki. "That smile of his… like he'd already won."
Toki reached out, her hand still resting lightly over his heart. "Then let us share the weight, Damien-san. You don't have to carry it alone anymore."
He looked into her eyes, then Aurora's, and for the first time in a long while, he let a breath of vulnerability escape. "You're both stronger than I give you credit for. I'm not used to leaning on others... but maybe it's time I start."
Aurora's lips curled into a slight smirk. "It's about time. Besides, we're not letting you take all the glory—or all the pain."
Damien exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Guess I'm outnumbered."
He also noticed the corrupted Haki slowly losing its spark. The venomous fangs of Xebec had dug into his soul not long ago, but its lethality was quickly waning.
…
[A While Later]
Midnight had crept into the island's serenity, casting an infinite blanket of darkness. Most of the wildlife had gone to sleep, leaving the forested land quiet.
Nothing but the whistling of the cold breeze or the eventual chirp of a cricket remained.
Two men sat across from one another; the older one sat on the tree stump while the other leaned on a nearby tree.
"So, you want to know about Mors?" the seated man questioned.
The one standing up, Indra, nodded.
Ares hummed, relishing the taste of his saké cup. He gave a quick glance at Indra's body markings, easily connecting them to the shards of his past.
"Well," he began. "I don't know much about his past, but I do know that he hailed from Polemos Island, coming to sea nearly forty years ago."
Ares filled his cup from a barrel of saké before continuing. "Mors kept to himself, trusting no one. The guy had a deep grudge against the World Government. One he made evident by his actions through the next decade or so."
"He was eventually captured by Endou in 1460. I hear that was the same time that Polemos' destruction was confirmed. Cheh, that guy got his entire race wiped out."
*Gurrug* The older man chugged down a whole cup before tossing it aside, opting to pick up the entire alcohol barrel itself.
"You know, unlike Mors, you're not much of a patriot to your people. He would boast his Figures of War, leaving them on endlessly… And I can't blame him. After all, it gave him the same physiology as the Lunarians!"
Indra, by instinct, gazed at the markings over his arm, tracing his hand across the deep, tattoo-like marks. Complicated emotions flashed by his eyes, seemingly lost in thought.
"Zenora Mors embraced the nature of Warborns. I chose against it."
The swordsman matched the senior pirate's gaze and gave a straightforward reply, "Our Figures give birth to rage and fury; such things only lead to tragedy."
Ares gently placed his barrel down—already emptied through some magical drinking technique.
He stood up, standing roughly eye-to-eye with Indra.
An undisguised glare allowed him to harvest everything he needed from the swordsman. "You're right. Those Figures threw Mors into a frenzy every time he used them, getting worse as the years passed. Still, they granted a body as tough as diamonds and a recovery rate on par with monsters."
*Thump* *Thump*
The God of War took a few bold steps ahead, standing arm's length from Indra. "Trust me, had I not sensed your deep loyalty to my kid, I would have killed you the moment I saw those markings on your arm."
Indra matched the war-like Ares with equal depth without hesitation.
"..."
"Ruhahahaha!" the man suddenly laughed out loud.
"I know your people were made to become weapons—a failed experiment. Mors was his greatest enemy, forever a slave to his rage." Ares patted Indra's shoulder, nodding, "I wonder what kind of monster you could become if you can fully harness the power in your blood."
The veteran pirate left, leaving the swordsman with one final piece of advice: "You should share your story with him. Damien can probably help you more than you think."
.
*Fwooo* A chilly wind passed by, echoing through the woods. The cool moonlight reflected off Indra's sharp eyes as he stood tall.
Ares' final words left him in thought. Suddenly, he recalled what Damien had told him over three years ago:
"Welcome to the Fourth Division of the Rocks Pirates, Zenora Indra, you seem to have a story. I look forward to hearing it one day."
Pablo and Akai's departure left only two men of the Fourth Division behind. Technically, Indra was not yet officially under Damien's unnamed crew.
The Warborn's once hazy eyes warped with a decisive spirit as he began walking, tracing a distant and familiar magnetic field. It was time to revisit a past he had buried long ago.
To Be Continued…
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Author's Corner.
The previous chapter was for Ares to get acquainted with the strength of Damien's companions. Now, he also knows who they are and what they value. While the Fourth Division has officially disbanded, only Indra remains to decide his future.
Images are available on Discord alongside other niche details: https://discord.gg/aJHHHPvb6q
Capítulo 168: [168] Shards of the Past (I)
[2670 words]
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The reticent swordsman made it to his destination, looking atop a cliff and making out the shape of a person.
A flash of thunder and Indra appeared behind the resting Damien, overlooking the horizon. He waited patiently as his Commander breathed in the night's cold air.
"What's up?"
Indra remained straight as a flagpole as he announced, "There are things you should know."
Damien gave a soft hum as he glanced at his right-hand man. "Don't be so rigid," he casually waved at Indra. "Sit."
Indra blinked and sat beside Damien, letting his legs hang off the cliff.
"..."
A wry smile was etched on Damien's face as he stifled a chuckle. "Let me guess, it's that power you showed back at God Valley," he said, glancing at the dark markings across Indra's body.
"Yes."
Damien shifted toward the swordsman, striking a smile, "Storytime? Let's do it."
Indra nodded, remembering the tales that were told to him while he was young. "Well, it all began around two hundred years ago…"
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[Marineford]
[Year of 1285]
A muscular mat sat in a grand office at the ever-stable Navy Headquarters and glanced at the marine before him. He had dark pants, a gray shirt, a blue undershirt, and a hat. He had a marine coat draped over his shoulder, sporting blue-coloured epaulettes.
"F-Fleet Admiral."
The veteran marine put aside a few papers, giving the other man his undivided attention.
"So, what mess did you make this time, Sosen?"
Sosen had white hair and a white mustache, boasting a dignified monocle. The man cheekily smiled, "Well, I heard the Science Unit made another discovery with the experiment."
The words drew a frown from Suroviy, the Fleet Admiral. "We've been over this, Sosen. As a Vice Admiral, you shouldn't be so stubborn about these things."
Sosen sighed, boldly airing his frustrations, "With all due respect, Fleet Admiral, I followed that string of intel in hopes that the ones I was going after were criminals… not children!"
However, his heartfelt thoughts were dismissed. "You came to me hoping for heftier missions; I gave you one that paid nicely," the top marine rebutted. Half a billion berries for all four of them."
Sosen gritted his teeth, looking to the floor in shame. "They were children, and Cipher Pol was up my ass!" he cried out, clenching his teeth. "I regret turning them in."
The Fleet Admiral looked through his drawer and pulled out another file containing four pages of paper. "Those children are wanted criminals of history—you did a good thing bringing them in."
Sosen obviously was not accepting of his boss' words as he tried to speak up once more. "They had barely even lived their lives, Suroviy-san, the–"
Bang!
Suroviy smashed his fist into the desk.
"They were Lunarians!" He glared at Sosen with razor-sharp eyes, "When it comes to the rule of the Celestial Dragons, you do as told! There's no time to pity the ones being wronged! If anything, it was their fault for being born into a clan that lost!"
The prestigious marine shook his head, huffing a tired sigh. "Go home, Sosen."
Seeing his argument fall apart, the Vice Admiral had no choice but to relent. He left the office with a twisted expression.
[Sosen Image (in Discord)]
…
"Lunarians?" Damien suddenly asked.
Indra hummed. He raised his right hand, counting on his fingers while listing the main features of the god-like clan: "Dark skin, white hair, black wings and the ability to ignite their bodies; incredible physical prowess and regenerative qualities."
Damien hummed, recalling the bits he knew from his past and from Ohara: "They resided in the Kingdom of Gods at the Red Line before their position was ripped away by the First Twenty, followed by their extermination."
"I hear the Government gives a handsome reward of 100 million berries for simple information regarding their kind. No wonder they would blow up at the capture of four such children."
Indra sighed and had to agree. "Yes, but it was the incredible mechanics of their strength that made them get chased down by the Government…"
…
A light shone off Sosen's monocle as he expressionlessly watched the night set in and the horizon darkened.
"Puru," "Puru," "Puru."
"Katcha~!"
"It's me, Sosen," the snail said, taking on the figure of a cloaked figure.
The man on the other side of the call didn't allow the Vice Admiral to speak as he made his complaints heard: "You know, just calling you is akin to a major crime!"
"Come on, it's me, your buddy from war," Sosen wryly laughed. "While I kicked ass on the frontlines, you were doing your thing with MCIS!" The joking tone warped into pleading, "I just want to know about that experiment, and I'll never call you again!"
"…"
The snail hesitated for a moment and then seemed to look around, his actions conveyed by the snail's cautious movements.
"Fine, listen up." The man's voice grew softer and quieter, "The Science Unit used the individual DNA of three of the four Lunarian spawns already; the cloning failed, leading to the death of the corresponding child."
Sosen breathed heavily, recalling the eight to ten-year-old winged kids he had arrested, a miserable feeling budding in his heart. "Damn those assholes!" he cursed.
"What about the fourth one?" Sosen asked with a hint of hope.
The snail heaved a sigh, a hint of pity in its eyes. "They were able to learn from the failure of the other three…"
"So the child lives!?"
"Let me finish!" the snail hissed. "They cloned the genome structure of the fourth Lunarian into the DNA of ten orphans. Unfortunately, the transfer of the genome had little success… I'm sorry, Sosen, but they will surely expunge those ten failed experiments any day now."
.
The news brought great despair to the Vice Admiral's face.
A few images flashed through his mind, that of his dying wife, who was able to be saved from the money he received. He didn't regret it then, but he did now. Especially since his wife died from a pirate strike a few months ago, leaving him with nothing but a buzzing sense of guilt…
But guilt alone wasn't what gnawed at him; it was the bitter realization that he had been complicit in the very machine he once believed served justice.
His hands trembled as he clenched them into fists, recalling the children's terrified faces when he handed them over. "They were just kids," he muttered, his voice breaking the silence. The thought of them enduring experimentation, screaming for mercy in some cold, sterile lab—it sickened him.
The words of his Fleet Admiral echoed in his mind, sharp and condemning: "There's no time to pity the ones being wronged!"
No time for pity? What kind of justice was that? What kind of man had he become? Sosen had devoted his life to the Marines, believing in their ideals, only to find himself a pawn in a game of power and privilege. His wife was gone, the Navy had stripped him of any honour he thought he had, and the haunting faces of the children weighed like a noose tightening around his neck. If he had nothing left to lose, then perhaps he could at least make right the worst of his sins.
"I need one more favour, old friend…"
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[A Facility on a Remote Island in the Grand Line]
It was visibly a government facility. The halls were well-laid with concrete and expensive materials. Yet under its majesty was a blaring alarm, echoing through the maze-like hallways.
Dozens of marine squads clamoured about, rushing to the same point where an invader had appeared.
"There's only one confirmed enemy. We must stop him!" the lead marine roared.
.
"One Sword Style: Beautiful Death!"
.
The chirping sound appeared out of nowhere, easily overshadowing the blaring alarms and inched near a company of soldiers.
"Auughh!"
"Ugh!"
"My leg!"
The enemy whizzed through the fallen marines, rushing to a particular area almost as if he knew what was waiting there for him.
Boom!
The wall exploded, allowing entrance to the sole invader. Naturally, the man was Sosen.
He desperately looked around through the cloud of smoke, his Haki scanning the inner facility. Soon enough, his eyes landed on a group of ten children huddling in the corner of a glass chamber, fearfully staring at the swordsman.
Sosen immediately sheathed his weapon, raising his hands in surrender as he walked toward the enclosure.
"I'm not gonna hurt you, kiddos…" he whispered, touching the glass.
Inside, he saw a winged, dark-skinned child strung to a stretcher, his eyes shut with blood leaking from every orifice. "Dammit!" Sosen cursed under his breath, though the living children once again took his attention away.
The little ones all had dark skin like the dead Lunarian, minus the wings, and their bodies were covered entirely with white clothing, marking them as research subjects.
Casting his pride as a marine off like chains, Sosen desperately implored them, "Come with me! I'll get you all to safety!"
Perhaps it was the desperate gleam in the ex-soldier's eyes or the sincere yearning in his voice, but it was enough for one of the braver children to reach out and take the man's hand.
Much to Sosen's surprise, the hand that reached out had dark markings running all over it, like tattoos.
…
"A marine with a moral compass and the balls to act on it," Damien voiced out with amusement. "How rare such a thing is in the rank of Vice Admiral."
Indra slightly smiled, recalling the old tales. "Sosen saved the ten children in a moment of impulse, but he ended up saving a newly created species of people," the swordsman muttered, once again glancing at the markings over his arms.
Damien hummed in agreement. "Though if your people were truly cloned Lunarians, then it's no wonder they would deem it a failure."
Indra slowly nodded. Evidently, he did not have any wings. "The only thing we seemed to share with that race was our complexion. Otherwise, it seems that the researchers utterly failed. But there was a slight anomaly that we inherited from the experiments…"
…
The mess at the marine facility was quite loud, but the control of the World Government was firm in that era. Within days, a bounty graced the seas, bringing a wave of speculation; after all, it was a reward for an ex-Vice Admiral of the Navy Headquarters!
-----< WANTED >-----
< ZENORA⋅SOSEN >
< 'Ronin' >
< 𝔅 1,000,000,000 - >
< DEAD or ALIVE >
----------------------------
Such a hefty reward brought great greed into the eyes of bounty hunters.
Beyond that, it was detailed that Sosen had stolen ten research subjects that were plagued with sickness and harboured a malignant disease, making Sosen a true villain.
They even placed a 100 million reward for the successful retrieval of just one of the said subjects, bringing Sosen's total worth to two billion berries!
…
Naturally, those at the raided research base were quickly questioned—the experiment to clone Lunarians had begun the day they were felled by the First Twenty! Even centuries of failure were met with the relentless pursuit of the god-like clan's power.
…
[Interrogation Room of G-1]
Bang!
A fist slammed into the dimly lit table, sending echoes through it. A single lamp hung from the ceiling, shaking from the interrogator's wrath.
"Sir, please, I'm not lying!"
The words fell on deaf ears: "Sosen stole valuable goods from your facility. Tell me, what should I do now!?"
The lead researcher nervously swallowed as he made his case: "I can assure both you and the Five Elders that those subjects were complete failures. They have little worth!"
The Agent scoffed, crossing his arms. "Then why would a distinguished Vice Admiral stake his life and career to take them away?"
The researcher shook his head wildly, with sweat dripping down his neck. "I-I don't know, but I do know that those ten clones failed to absorb the genomes. They had no wings, nor did they have the ability to ignite themselves on fire!"
"Beyond that, they lacked the physical mechanism of Lunarians; the only thing that successfully transferred was the darkened skin and…"
The man hesitated momentarily, aggravating the Agent, "And what!?"
"A-And a mutated gene deeply embedded in their DNA. Upon inspection, we realized it was an incomplete form of the Lunarian physiology; due to the broken piece, these subjects are prone to a state of uncontrolled anger, boosting their strength–"
"To what level?" the interrogator questioned.
"R-Rivaling the Lunarians," he quacked, "...in theory."
Before the Agent could blow up once more, the researcher made one last attempt to save himself: "All my subordinates can vouch for it. Those kids will kill themselves off in those moments of seething anger. They are doomed to die out as soon as one of them activates that incomplete gene!"
The researcher drove his point home one step further, guaranteeing, "They are of no danger to the World Government!"
"…"
The Agent breathed in, factoring the vehement denials, and put on an indifferent face. "This entire experiment was to recreate the lost Lunarians with the sole purpose of becoming the greatest weapons for the World Government."
"I hope for your and your fellow workers' own good that your theory is correct…otherwise, I would have to hand you to the Head of Torture and Interrogation Division and trust me, you don't want them grilling you."
The researcher gulped and could only nod, hoping he wouldn't be put to the slaughter, cursing Sosen in his heart.
…
Unfortunately for the World Government, there was neither hide nor hair of Ronin Sosen.
Cipher Pol could only continue monitoring the Underworld and other such criminal channels in hopes of finding even a hint of intel regarding the ex-marines. However, they would eventually discover that they simply would never acquire any hint of Sosen for years to come.
…
[A Deserted Island in the New World]
"Alright, come now, kids."
A cloaked Sosen beckoned the little group of children as they walked down the stolen ship with some fear. Soon enough, the soles of their feet hit the marshy ground, embracing what would be their new home.
"Polemos Island," Sosen introduced. "It was once a vibrant forested land, but due to war and battles, the World Government summoned a Buster Call!"
"However, the climate of this part of the New World is dry and easy to spark flames… the salvo of the Marine Warships birthed a fire that burned for decades on end, leaving everything in ashes."
He dug a hand into the soil, feeling its fertility. "That was two centuries ago; now, however, it has regained enough life to be considered quite well-off."
One of the more outgoing children pointed to the sea with some confusion, "What about all that fog?"
Sosen hummed, tipping his monocle to the sea of fog around Polemos Island.
"The fire created a thick smoke that fossilized into a ring around the island due to the New World climate. The thick haze will get anyone lost—it's nearly impossible to reach here."
The swordsman sighed, finding some good in all the bad. "Due to its detrimental state and the Government's desire to appear peaceful, there were only five eternal poses of this island before it was removed from the maps worldwide."
The man showed off an Eternal Pose with the name "Polemos Island" printed onto it.
"Don't worry, this compass is the only survivor of the original five."
[Polemos Island Image (in Discord)]
The ex-vice Admiral was nearly 9 feet tall (2.74 m), needing to kneel down to meet the eyes of the young children. The man beamed a spirited smile at the quivering children. "It was auctioned at Sabaody; I was holding it off for my retirement home… looks like that's what ended up happening, So-So-So!"
Slowly but surely, they began opening up the man, allowing life to finally return to a forgotten island that would eventually be hailed as the home of the Warborn!
To Be Continued…
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Author's Corner.
Lunarians were considered 'Gods' by even the World Government. The premise here is that they've been trying to recreate these beings but as worthy weapons for themselves. Centuries of failure ended with the Warborn—the prototype for Vegapunk's Seraphim.
Images are available on Discord alongside other niche details: https://discord.gg/aJHHHPvb6q
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