"Storm's brewing," Vaughn muttered, eyeing the horizon; black clouds churned in a turbulent sea of darkness, roiling with ominous energy. The clouds twisted and writhed; their edges tinged with electric blue as if a storm burst of lightning was waiting to be unleashed. Tendrils of shadow snaked across the sky, intertwining like the coils of a vengeful serpent, and the distant rumble of thunder echoed like the growl of a waking beast. The air felt charged, heavy with foreboding, as if the heavens themselves were girding for battle. "We camp now or get buried."
"Camp?!" Charlie brandished a handheld device, its screen flickering with erratic data. "The atmospheric pressure's dropping faster than a Marine's morals! If we don't reach the oasis before that hits—"
"—we'll die," Yazen finished bluntly, unrolling his scroll to reveal a star map scorched at the edges. "But if we press on, we risk walking straight into Ra-Harakht's judgment. The texts say his trials purify the unworthy."
Marya's voice cut through the wind, cold as her blade. "Worthiness won't matter if we're crushed by sand."
The pendant flared, its light searing white-hot. Pell gripped it tighter, his breath catching. Ahead, the dunes parted like a curtain, revealing a skeletal oasis—a cluster of withered palms encircling a pool of black water. At its center stood a crumbling altar, its surface etched with glyphs that pulsed faintly gold.
"There," Pell said, his voice taut. "Vivi's there."
The oasis was a graveyard of dead stone and older magic. The air reeked of sulfur and burnt honey, a nauseating sweetness that clung to their throats. Vivi lay slumped against the altar, her wrists bound by chains of molten sand that shimmered like liquid sunlight. Her head snapped up as they approached, her eyes wide but unseeing.
"P-Pell…?" Her voice was a rasp, her lips cracked and bleeding. "It's… it's using me. To open the—"
A thunderous roar split the sky. The sand beneath their feet erupted, coalescing into a towering figure of fire and silica—Ra-Harakht, the Sun's Vigil, his hollow eyes fixed on Vivi.
"THE BLOOD OF NEFERTARI HAS AWAKENED THE COVENANT. THE TRIAL BEGINS."
The oasis trembled as Ra-Harakht's voice boomed. The pool of black water bubbled violently, sending ripples of malevolent energy across its surface. As the turmoil intensified, the liquid began to solidify, transforming into a smooth, obsidian-like glass that reflected the eerie glow of the glyphs on the altar. These ancient symbols flared to life, casting an otherworldly light that danced across the scene.
The ground beneath the group seemed to shudder in response, the stable sand giving way to treacherous quicksand that sought to consume them. Their footing became precarious as the desert's treacherous shift began to pull them under. Panic set in, eyes wide with fearful determination as each member fought against the consuming sands.
Charlie yelped, clawing at his sinking notes. "Magnetic destabilization! The relic's altering the desert's polarity!"
Yazen chanted under his breath, tracing warding sigils in the air. "The texts speak of this! We must appease the guardian's wrath with—"
"Appease this!" Vaughn roared, heaving Light Bringer into the quicksand. The axe's edge ignited with Haki, spewing heat that solidified the sand into a brittle crust.
Marya lunged for Vivi, her mist dissolving the molten chains. "Move!"
But Ra-Harakht's hand descended, a colossal fist of fire and stone. Marya barely dodged, her mist scattering as the blow cratered the ground where Vivi had lain moments before.
"Enough!" Pell transformed mid-leap, his falcon wings slicing through the smoky air. He snatched Vivi from the altar, her pendant blazing like a miniature sun in his grip. As Pell's wings beat the air, carrying them to temporary safety, the group fled the chaos of the oasis. Each step away from Ra-Harakht felt like a borrowed moment, the threat looming large in their hearts.
They scrambled through the desert, their breaths ragged and minds racing. The relentless storm of sand and wind seemed to chase them, a reminder of the awakened ancient power they had left behind. The night wrapped around them, a cloak of shadow and uncertainty, punctuated by the occasional flicker of lightning, casting eerie shadows on their path.
Finding a shallow cave, they ducked inside, shielding themselves from the storm's fury. The cave offered a brief respite, its dark, cool interior a stark contrast to the searing heat of their recent battle. Vivi shivered by the fire, her wrists bandaged with strips torn from Yazen's scroll. Charlie and Yazen sat opposite each other, their rivalry momentarily muted by exhaustion.
Charlie, leaning back on his hands, grudgingly admitted, "Your… sigils. They slowed the quicksand."
Yazen, sniffing, rubbed his nose with his sleeve, "And your 'polarity' theory saved your notes. Not me."
Vaughn sharpened his axe, eyeing the storm. "Save the sweet talk. That thing's still out there."
Marya crouched at the cave's mouth, her gaze on the horizon. The pendant's glow had dimmed, but its pull remained—a relentless whisper in Pell's palm.
Vivi stirred, her voice frail but resolute. "Ra-Harakht isn't the enemy. The relic is. It's… twisting him. Like it tried to twist me."
Pell closed his fist around the pendant. "Then we cut it out of him."
Outside, the storm crescendoed. Somewhere in the darkness, golden eyes flickered. Kael's voice, warped and echoing, slithered through the night, "YOU CANNOT KILL A GOD."
The group settled into an uneasy silence within the cave, each member lost in thoughts of their recent encounter. The storm outside raged on, its howling winds mingling with Kael's haunting proclamation. Vaughn's grip on his axe tightened, his gaze never leaving the cave's entrance, while Yazen meticulously checked his sigils for any imperfections.
As the hours passed, the storm began to abate, leaving behind a world transformed by the night's fury. The desert night was a quilt of indigo and silver; the stars smeared across the sky like scattered gemstones. Pell's mind was a whirlwind of possible plans. They had a few hours at most before Ra-Harakht would track them down again.
"We need to move before dawn," Vaughn muttered, breaking the silence.
Outside, the first hints of dawn began to stain the horizon, and the group knew they had to keep moving. Vivi, despite her exhaustion, rose to her feet, fortitude etched on her face. Pell glanced at her, nodding in silent agreement. He led the group out of the cave, each step heavy with the weight of their mission.
Vivi sat on a weathered stone at the edge of their makeshift camp, her boots scuffed with sand and her royal cloak traded for a traveler's frayed shawl. Across the flickering fire, Marya sharpened Eternal Night with the rhythmic motion of a wet stone. The silence between them was taut, charged with the unspoken weight of two young women bound by duty and ghosts.
"You remind me of someone," Vivi said suddenly, her voice deliberately soft.
Marya's hands stilled. The firelight caught the edge of her blade, casting a sliver of light across her face—sharp cheekbones, a golden hawk-like gaze. "I get that a lot," she replied flatly.
"Dracule Mihawk," Vivi pressed. "The World's Greatest Swordsman. You move like him. That precision… it's uncanny."
Marya's jaw tightened. She sheathed Eternal Night with a deliberate click. "He's my father."
Vivi tilted her head, studying her. "But you're nothing like him."
A flicker of surprise crossed Marya's face. "Most people only see the resemblance."
"I see the difference," Vivi said, leaning forward. "His eyes are glaciers. Yours are wildfires."
Marya's mist curled faintly around her wrists, restless. "Wildfires destroy."
"They also cleanse. Renew." Vivi's gaze dropped to the scars on Marya's knuckles—thin, deliberate lines, like the tally marks of battles fought too close to the edge. "You're afraid of your power."
It wasn't a question. Marya's fingers twitched toward the kogatana at her throat. "The last time I lost control… people I cared about burned. Not everyone can shrug off a wildfire, Princess."
Vivi flinched but held her ground. "You don't know what I can shrug off."
"I know you're not hiding in a palace," Marya conceded, grudging respect coloring her tone. "Most royals would've sent soldiers in their stead. You're here. In the dirt. Why?"
Vivi smiled faintly. "A pirate once told me crowns are just hats with targets. I'd rather fight for my people than hide behind them." She paused, her thumb brushing the 'X' scar on her wrist—the Straw Hats' farewell. "When I first met Luffy… I thought strength meant never showing fear. But he taught me that trusting others is strength. Even when it scares you."
Marya's mist stilled. "Trusting others gets them killed."
"So does shutting them out." Vivi's voice softened, and her eyes drifted to the dancing flames. "After Crocodile's betrayal, I begged Luffy to abandon Alabasta. To let it burn so no one else would suffer. Know what he said?"
Marya shook her head.
"'You don't get to choose who deserves saving.' He carried me through a war I couldn't fight alone. Not because I was weak. Because I was human." Vivi's eyes glinted, fiercely raw. "Your power doesn't define you, Marya. What you choose to do with it does."
The fire popped, sending embers spiraling into the dark. Marya's mist unwound, tendrils brushing the edges of the flames—not devouring, not retreating, just… existing. "My father once said a sword is only as strong as the hand that wields it," she murmured as the shadows of the flames flickered across her face. "I thought he meant skill. Now I think he meant… purpose."
Vivi nodded to the kogatana. "Is that why you carry his blade?"
"No." Marya's fingers grazed the dagger's hilt. "I carry it to remind myself I'm more than his shadow." A gust of wind stirred the sand, and for a moment, the desert held its breath. "You're not what I expected," Marya said finally.
Vivi raised an eyebrow. "Of a princess?"
"Of a Nefertari." Marya stood, her silhouette sharp against the star-strewn sky. "You don't hide behind your blood. You wield it."
Vivi rose, her shawl slipping to reveal the sun disc pendant at her throat—a queen's symbol, polished by sand and resolve. "And you're not your father's blade. You're the hand that holds it."
Somewhere in the dunes, a night bird cried. The relic's whisper lingered on the wind, but here, by the fire, there was only the quiet understanding of two young women who'd carved their own paths through a world that demanded they kneel.
Marya's lips quirked—not quite a smile, but close. "Let's hope that's enough."
Vivi had just begun to speak of Luffy's reckless, radiant faith when Charlie's voice sliced through the calm like a blade. "—preposterous!" he barked, jabbing a finger at Yazen's star chart. "The Scorpion's Tail constellation hasn't aligned with the Valley of Kings in eight centuries! Your 'celestial lock' theory is archaic!"
Yazen slammed his scroll onto a rock, the ancient parchment threatening to tear. "Archaic?! Your 'geomagnetic resonance' nonsense ignores the foundational texts! The Canticle of Ra-Harakht explicitly states—"
"Explicitly states nothing!" Charlie's glasses slipped down his nose as he leaned in, his handheld device beeping erratically. "These 'texts' are thirdhand transcriptions from a sand-scorched era! The oasis isn't a temple—it's a crater from a meteor strike! The 'Mother Flame' is just irradiated mineral deposits reacting to—"
"Irradiated?!" Yazen's face flushed crimson, his hands clenched into fists. "You'd reduce divine judgment to cosmic debris?! Heretic!"
Vivi and Marya exchanged glances—equal parts exasperation and amusement—as the scholars' voices climaxed.
"Enough," Pell said, rising with the weary authority of a man who'd refereed one too many royal debates. "Save the philosophy for the archives."
But Yazen was already on his feet, waving a dagger carved with sun sigils. "The alignment peaks at dawn! If we ignore the stars, we're walking into a death trap!"
Charlie rolled up his sleeves and brandished his device like a weapon. "If we follow your stars, we'll be skewered by tectonic shifts! The dunes here are unstable!"
Vaughn spat out his toothpick and stood, Light Bringer glinting in the firelight. "You two're worse than seagulls squabbling over bait. Shut it, or I'll shut you."
Marya's mist coiled reflexively, her fingers brushing Eternal Night's hilt. "Let them fight. Might be the only way they agree on something."
"Agree?!" Charlie and Yazen snarled in unison, rounding on her.
"YES!" Pell's voice boomed, his falcon wings flaring wide. The sudden gust scattered embers and silenced the camp. "You're both right. And both are wrong. The relic's a threat, not a thesis. Now sit down."
The scholars froze, chastised. Yazen straightened his robes with a huff; Charlie adjusted his glasses, muttering about "empirical compromises."
Vivi hid a smile behind her hand. "Reminds me of Zoro and Sanji arguing."
Marya arched a brow. "Your crew?"
"Pirates," Vivi corrected, her eyes distant. "They'd bicker like this before every battle. But when it mattered…" She trailed off, watching Charlie and Yazen grudgingly compare notes. "They'd find a way."
Marya studied Vivi—the callouses on her hands, the sand-crusted hem of her cloak. "You're not what I expected of a princess."
"And you're not what I expected of Mihawk's heir," Vivi shot back, grinning.
A sand-wolf howled in the distance, its cry swallowed by the dunes. The group fell silent, the fire's crackle their only company. "Dawn's in four hours," Pell said finally. "Rest. The relic won't wait."
As the scholars retreated to opposite sides of the fire, Vaughn muttered, "Next time, I'm leaving 'em for the vultures." But when the first hint of light tinged the horizon, it was Charlie who woke Yazen—and Yazen who handed Charlie a vial of ink to recalibrate his device. The desert, it seemed, bred strange alliances.
The desert dawn bled flaxen and crimson across the horizon, the air crisp with the bite of a night not yet forgotten. Vivi stirred first, her hand instinctively closing around the Nefertari pendant at her throat—its glow had dimmed to a faint pulse, like a weary heartbeat. Around her, the camp lay in disarray: Charlie sprawled over a pile of scribbled equations, Yazen curled protectively around his star charts, and Vaughn snoring against Light Bringer's haft. Only Marya and Pell stood watchful, their outlines sharp against the waking sky.
"They're coming," Marya said flatly, her gaze fixed northwest. "The relic's song is louder."
Pell nodded, his falcon eyes tracking distant plumes of sand spiraling unnaturally upward. "Ra-Harakht stirs. And Kael… he's no longer just a man."
Vivi rose, shaking sand from her cloak. "Then we move. Now."
The group huddled over a map etched into the glassy sand, the remnants of their campfire smoldering at its edge. Charlie's finger jabbed at a cluster of glyphs. "The Judge—Kael's relic—is the enforcer. Ra-Harakht is the guardian. But the Purifier… that's the linchpin. If all three converge at the Mother Flame, the texts say it'll 'cleanse the unworthy.'"
Yazen scoffed, stabbing his ceremonial dagger into the sand. "Cleanse is a gentle word. The Purifier is a scourge. It'll reduce Alabasta to ash if the triad aligns!"
"Ash?" Vaughn grunted, sharpening his axe. "Thought the relic wanted to play god, not arsonist."
"It's both," Vivi murmured, her voice hollow. "The Sun Priests believed the Mother Flame judged kings. If it deems Alabasta unworthy…"
Marya's mist coiled darkly. "Then we kill the Judge before it reaches the oasis."
"Kill him?" Charlie's glasses slid down his nose. "The relics are symbiotic! Destroying one could destabilize the entire system! We need to disrupt their resonance, not add chaos!"
Yazen slammed his scroll open, revealing a star map ablaze with crimson annotations. "Disrupt?! The alignment is celestial! You can't 'disrupt' the stars! We must appease Ra-Harakht with a counter-ritual—offer a blood sacrifice to temper the flame!"
"A sacrifice?!" Pell's wings flared. "Whose blood? Yours?"
"If necessary!" Yazen snapped.
"Over my rotting corpse," Vaughn growled.
Charlie leapt to his feet, scattering sand. "You're both insane! The relics are energy constructs! If we overload the Purifier's core with a controlled burst, we can sever the triad's connection without slaughter!"
Yazen rose, his voice trembling with fervor. "You think your machines can outwit a god?! This isn't a lab experiment—it's divine judgment!"
"And you're not a priest—you're a librarian!" Charlie shot back.
Vivi stepped between them, her pendant flaring. "Enough! Whether it's science or sacrifice, we all want the same thing—to save Alabasta. So we adapt."
Marya's blade hissed from its sheath, her mist writhing. "Kael's close. I can feel the relic's pull. We ambush him at the Salt Flats—cut the Judge from the triad before the others awaken."
"And if the Purifier activates in response?" Yazen challenged. "The texts warn of a 'holy inferno' that spares no sin!"
Charlie waved his device, its screen flickering. "Then we use Vivi's pendant to redirect the energy! It's a Nefertari relic—it can interface with the Mother Flame!"
"Interface?!" Yazen laughed bitterly. "You'd gamble the kingdom on a theory?"
"Better than gambling it on superstition!"
Vaughn spat. "How 'bout we gamble on not dying? The longer we yap, the closer that sandstorm gets." He nodded to the horizon, where a gilded tempest churned—Ra-Harakht's wrath, given form.
Pell folded his arms, his voice grim. "We split. Marya and Vaughn ambush Kael. Charlie and Yazen prep their… theories. Vivi and I head to the oasis to confront the flame."
Silence fell, heavy as a tombstone.
"No," Vivi said softly. "We stay together. The relics feed on division. We fight as one." The pendant's glow intensified, casting her face in stark relief—a princess forged by pirates, unyielding.
Marya sheathed her sword. "Then we move. Now."
As they broke camp, Charlie and Yazen lingered, their feud simmering. "Your machines will fail," Yazen muttered, stuffing scrolls into his pack.
"And your chants will get us killed," Charlie retorted, tightening his belt.
But as the sun climbed, their arguments faded into the grind of survival. The desert offered no quarter—sand stalkers prowled the dunes, and the air itself seemed to curdle with the relic's anticipation.
By midday, the oasis loomed—a mirage made flesh, its waters black and still as polished onyx, reflecting a sky where stars burned defiantly at midday. Above it, the sky contorted, stars visible at noon. The air hummed with a dissonant chord—half prayer, half warning—as the group crossed the threshold. Ancient obelisks flanked the path, their glyphs glowing faintly gold as if awakened by Vivi's pendant.
The oasis trembled as Ra-Harakht's voice boomed from the storm, shaking the air, sand spiraling into gilded vortices overhead. "THE TRIAL BEGINS." The words reverberated through the bones of the group, primal and unyielding. Before them, a stone slab rose from the sand, its surface etched with glyphs that glowed like molten amber.
The Inscription:
Three trials await the unworthy:
Whispers to unearth the buried truth,
Sands to scorch the faithless soul,
Choices to sever crown from root.
Charlie lunged for the slab, his scanner whirring. "The Chamber of Whispers—it's a sonic resonance puzzle! These glyphs aren't poetry, they're frequency markers! If we emit the correct harmonic tone—"
Yazen shoved him aside, unrolling a scroll so ancient its edges crumbled. "Ignoramus! The 'buried truth' refers to the Canticle of the First Sun! The trial demands penance, not parlor tricks!"
Vivi traced the glyphs with her pendant, its light flaring where she touched. "What happens if we fail?"
The ground quaked. From the depths of the oasis, a monolithic door carved with a screaming sun face groaned open, revealing a corridor lined with skeletal remains—some fresh, some centuries old.
"The unworthy become the sand," Ra-Harakht intoned