Marya moved through the shuddering corridors of the flagship with the languid grace of a ghost. Behind her, Vice Admiral Gion gave furious chase, her boots pounding the deck, her breath coming in sharp gusts. Marya, however, seemed to be on a casual stroll, pausing at intersections as if deciding which way to go, always staying just a few tantalizing steps ahead.
"You can't run forever, pirate!" Gion snarled, lunging with a sweeping slash of her blade that carved a groove in the wall where Marya's head had been a second before.
Marya simply rematerialized a few feet further down the hall, glancing over her shoulder. "Who's running? I'm giving you a tour. This," she said, gesturing to a splintered beam, "is where your colleague face-planted. Charming, really."
Jelly, peeking out from under Marya's collar, chose that moment to stick his tongue out at the Vice Admiral with a defiant "Bloop!"
Gion's eye twitched, her grip on her sword tightening until her knuckles were white. "You insolent—!"
A sudden, distinct purupuru purupuru sound came from Marya's pocket. She held up a finger to Gion. "One moment, important call." She pulled out the transponder snail, which had adopted Galit's focused expression. "This is Marya."
"This is Galit, checking in," the snail said, its voice flat. "I have an update. We have secured the target and are ready to depart. Just waiting on you two."
The ship chose that moment to jolt violently sideways, thrown by a colossal impact from the duel outside. Gion, caught mid-lunge, lost her footing and slid across the tilted deck, crashing into a stack of lashed-down barrels.
Marya, misting slightly to maintain her balance, replied calmly, "Copy that. I'll meet up with Frosty and come to you. What's your location?"
"Starboard side. We will be standing by." The snail's eyes drooped shut.
Marya tucked the snail away and looked over her shoulder at the fuming Vice Admiral, who was untangling herself from broken wood. "Well, this has been fun and all," Marya said with a mocking smile, "but I've got people waiting. Gotta go." She winked, and her body dissolved into a swirling cloud of grey mist that flowed down the corridor.
Gion scrambled to her feet with a roar of frustration, charging after the dissipating vapor. "Come back here!"
On the main deck, the world was an apocalypse of opposing elements. One half of the ship was a frozen wasteland, coated in jagged, blue-white ice; the other half smoldered, wood charred and blackened from Alejandro's scorching assaults. In the center, the two titans faced off. Aokiji was panting slightly, a faint sheen of sweat freezing on his brow, while Alejandro, fully transformed into his chimera-like Mythical Zoan form, breathed plumes of superheated air, his leonine mane flickering with embers.
"Traitor!" Alejandro roared, unleashing a torrent of white-hot fire.
Aokiji raised a wall of ice that vaporized into a scalding steam cloud. It was then that a patch of mist coalesced beside him, forming into Marya. She glanced around at the devastation, her expression unimpressed.
"You've been busy," she remarked, her voice cutting through the din. "Am I interrupting?"
Aokiji looked down at her through narrowed, weary eyes. "A little."
Alejandro's multi-tonal growl intensified. "Another gnat to swat!"
Marya raised a brow, ignoring him completely. "We have what we came for. We're ready to go. If you're done playing around here, that is."
At that moment, Vice Admiral Gion burst onto the deck, her sword held high. "I am not letting you escape!" she yelled, her voice cracking with fury.
Marya sighed, a long-suffering sound. "This is getting old."
Aokiji, recognizing the same stubborn, unimpressed expression he'd seen for years on Mihawk's face, let out a low chuckle. "I think I've done enough here."
Marya nodded. "Just one last thing to do." She drew Eternal Eclipse from its sheath. The obsidian blade gleamed in the residual light from the air.
"Do not ignore me, traitor!" Alejandro roared, unleashing a torrent of white-hot fire.
Aokiji raised a brow but obliged, flicking his wrist to erect a massive, curved wall of ice that deflected a fresh wave of Alejandro's flames. "Don't take too long."
"Thanks for that," Marya said with a smirk. She then called out to the charging Vice Admiral. "Hey, Pink Rabbit! You might want to stand back for this!"
Gion, fueled by pure rage, didn't pause. "You don't give me orders, you—!"
Marya didn't let her finish. She swung Eternal Eclipse in a single, fluid, horizontal arc. There was no contact. Instead, a crescent wave of pure, black Haki shot from the blade. It didn't roar; it whispered, a sound of absolute negation. It struck the base of the ship's central mast.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then, the massive timber pillar didn't just break—it disintegrated. It exploded inward into a cloud of ultra-fine sawdust, the sails and rigging above vaporizing with it. A concussive wave of pure force followed, silent and immense, slamming into the deck and hurling both Gion and Alejandro off their feet. The entire ship listed precariously.
Aokiji stared at the now-missing mast, then at Marya. He started to chuckle, a low rumble that built into a full-bellied laugh of genuine amusement as she calmly sheathed her sword.
"Just a little parting gift," Marya called out over the ringing silence.
Both Gion and Alejandro scrambled to their feet, their faces masks of utter humiliation and rage. "YOU—!" they roared in unison, charging.
Marya calmly looked at Aokiji. "You ready?"
He nodded, still grinning. "After you."
In a synchronized motion, their bodies dissolved into twin plumes of mist—one grey, one faintly frosted—swirling together before vanishing from the deck. They reappeared an instant later on the bobbing submarine below, their feet landing softly on the metal hull.
Aokiji smirked, looking back at the crippled, mastless flagship. "Not bad."
Marya shrugged, turning on her heel toward the open hatch. "It's not that big of a deal."
As she descended, Aokiji took one last look over his shoulder. High above, Alejandro stood at the shattered railing, his bestial form outlined against the sky, his roar of pure, impotent fury echoing across the frozen sea. It was a sound of perfect, unadulterated defeat. Aokiji gave a lazy wave before following Marya inside and sealing the hatch behind him.
The hatch sealed with a pressurized hiss, muting the chaos of the frozen sea. Inside the submarine, the air was thick with the scent of recycled air, seawater, and the distinct aroma of too many people in a confined space. Aokiji ducked his head slightly, his massive frame making the corridor seem even narrower.
Galit, eyes fixed on his navigational holograms, didn't look up. "Our next stop is Ohara?"
Marya shook her head, pulling off her leather jacket and hanging it on a hook. "No. Find us a nice, secluded beach for tonight. This tin can is getting a little too crowded for sleeping."
Galit nodded, his fingers already dancing across the console. "I know a place."
Aokiji's gaze swept the main cabin, landing on Eliane, who was sitting quietly next to Jannali. A slow, understanding smile spread across his face. "Oh," he drawled, his voice a low rumble. "Now I see what all the fuss was about."
As if on cue, Jelly launched himself from Marya's discarded jacket with a joyful "Bloop!" and began bouncing around Eliane's feet, morphing his face into ridiculous, squishy shapes. The girl's earlier fear melted away, replaced by a fit of genuine, bubbling giggles.
Aokiji leaned against a bulkhead, crossing his arms. "She's a Lunarian."
The statement landed in the room like a stone. Everyone turned to look at Eliane, who was now completely engrossed in Jelly's antics, utterly unaware of the weight of the revelation.
Marya turned slowly, her golden eyes assessing the girl with new, sharpened interest. "A Lunarian," she muttered, a flicker of genuine curiosity breaking through her usual stoicism. "How interesting."
Atlas shot a look at Jannali, his voice a low grumble. "Old family friends?"
Jannali shifted uncomfortably. "Very old."
"And her granddad sent us," Atlas pressed, his suspicion evident.
Marya's smirk widened as the pieces clicked into place in her mind. The Masquerade Syndicate. A hidden community. A child of a near-extinct race. It was a puzzle she was suddenly very keen to solve.
Jannali, sensing the shift, stood up, her expression turning serious. "You are taking her back, right? That was the deal."
Marya raised a single, cool brow. "Eventually."
"Eventually?" Jannali repeated, her voice rising. "What do you mean 'eventually'? It's too dangerous for her out here! They said—"
Marya cut her off with a sharp gesture. "I know what they said. And the payment will be waiting when we return her. In the meantime," she said, her gaze sliding past Jannali to where Eliane was now giggling as Jelly balanced on his head, "she'll stay with us. You can tell her granddad she's safe and secured away from the Navy." With that, she walked past a sputtering Jannali towards the small galley at the rear of the sub.
Aokiji chuckled, dropping into a reinforced seat with a sigh of relief. "That's what happens when you do business with pirates," he muttered to no one in particular.
Jannali raced after Marya, protesting. "You can't be serious! She's only twelve! She could get hurt!"
Eliane, hearing the commotion, followed them curiously towards the galley.
Marya was kneeling, opening a hidden compartment in the galley floor. Inside, nestled on a bed of black velvet, were two objects that pulsed with a faint, otherworldly energy: the Heart of the Sea Devourer Fragment, a shard of deep blue crystal that seemed to hold an ocean within it, and the Celestial Tideglass Fragment, a piece of pearlescent sand that swirled with captured starlight.
Jannali skidded to a halt, her protest dying on her lips as she saw the crystals. "Whoa... what is that?"
Marya glanced over her shoulder. "This is..." She began, but both women paused as a soft gasp came from the doorway.
They turned. Eliane was standing there, but she wasn't looking at the magical artifacts. Her eyes were wide with pure, unadulterated awe, fixed on the galley itself. The professional-grade stove, the well-organized counter, the hanging pots and pans.
"This is a kitchen!" she breathed, her voice full of reverence.
They watched, utterly bewildered, as the young girl darted into the room. She ran to the refrigerator, flinging it open to reveal a well-stocked larder of fresh and preserved ingredients. She yanked open the pantry, then went to the counter, pulling out drawers filled with meticulously maintained kitchen knives.
"These knives... they're high-carbon steel! They shouldn't just be left in a drawer like this!" she exclaimed, her tone a mixture of horror and excitement.
Marya raised a questioning brow at Jannali, who sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat.
"Little chef, don't get too..." Jannali started, but it was too late.
Eliane was already pulling out bowls and ingredients, her movements suddenly precise and confident. "I'm going to make a thank-you meal!" she announced, her earlier timbers completely gone, replaced by the focused energy of a master craftsman.
Jelly bounced into the galley. "Snack time!"
Atlas's head appeared in the doorway, his nose twitching. "Did I hear snacks?"
"Yup!" Eliane chirped, already chopping an onion with blinding speed and perfect form. "I'm cooking!"
Marya looked to Jannali for an explanation.
Jannali walked to the counter, a resigned smile finally touching her lips. "Both her parents are world-class gourmet chefs." She leaned over, pointing a finger at Eliane. "Okay, little chef. But you know how I like mine, so don't get too creative."
Eliane beamed, a flash of white in the dim light. "Okay!"
Marya shook her head, a genuine, amused smirk on her face. She secured the secret compartment, hiding the fragments and the newly acquired Uroboros Kernel, and made her way to the cockpit, leaving the burgeoning chaos of the kitchen behind. Taking a seat next to Galit, she stared out into the dark water.
Galit didn't look away from his screens. "We should be at a secluded beach in about an hour."
From the galley, the sounds of sizzling oil, cheerful clattering, and Jelly's excited "Bloop!" filled the submarine. It was no longer just a vessel of escape; it had unexpectedly, and rather noisily, become a home.
*****
The elevator's ping was a delicate, absurd sound in the hallway of hell. As the doors slid open, Caden 'The Ghost' Arashi and Evander of the Crimson stepped out, weapons raised, their eyes scanning the smoke-filled corridor. The scene that greeted them was not one of panicked prisoners, but a perfectly choreographed dance of violence.
The entire platform lurched violently, a deep groan of tortured metal echoing from the depths. Inside the armory, Kuro, who had just retrieved his cat-claw gauntlets from a rack, was thrown against a wall. He caught himself with a grunt, the seastone-tipped blades snapping out with a sharp shink. Aurélie, now with Anathema's familiar weight in her hand, didn't stumble. She bent her knees, becoming a rooted tree in the storm, her silver hair flying around a face of cold fury. Her steel-gray eyes narrowed, not on the new arrivals, but on the source of the chaos—the Typhon.
The Ripper had forced its head and one clawed limb fully into the corridor, Souta's ink-panther dissolving under a vicious bite. Its massive amber eye fixed on the grouped humans, and it let out a screech that felt like needles in the brain. It lunged, its crystalline-toothed maw gaping.
Aurélie moved. She didn't run; she flowed, a specter of black and silver. "Draw its attention," she commanded, her voice cutting through the din without raising its pitch.
Kuro, understanding instantly, was already in motion. "With pleasure." He darted forward, not towards the head, but towards the creature's leading leg. His movements were a blur, the Shakushi style making him a flickering shadow. His claws raked across the chitinous armor, not to deeply wound, but to sting and infuriate. The Ripper shrieked in annoyance, turning its bite towards him.
This was the opening Aurélie needed. She sprang into the air, a breathtaking arc that defied the shaking floor. Anathema left its sheath with a whisper that promised pain. The black blade seemed to deepen the shadows around it, but now a faint, crimson aura flickered along its edge—the manifestation of her Haki.
Caden and Evander could only watch, momentarily frozen. They saw the woman dodge a wild swipe of the creature's claw by contorting her body in mid-air, a move of impossible grace. They saw the man in the tailored suit dancing at the beast's feet, a tantalizing, evasive target. It was a savage, beautiful ballet.
Aurélie landed on the creature's snout, her boots finding purchase for a single, decisive moment. The Typhon's eye rolled to look at her. She didn't hesitate. With a two-handed grip, she drove Anathema down in a perfect, arching swing. The Haki-imbued blade met the monstrous amber orb not with a crack, but with a deep, wet thrum of released energy.
The Ripper's shriek was not of annoyance, but of pure, agonizing pain. It recoiled violently, writhing back down the corridor, a stream of iridescent, phosphorescent ichor spraying from its ruined eye. It retreated into the deeper darkness, its cries fading into the general cacophony of the dying platform.
Aurélie landed softly, her back to the JFF men. She flicked the foul-smelling ichor from her blade with a practiced twist of her wrist and smoothly sheathed Anathema at her hip. Kuro, not even breathing heavily, adjusted his cracked spectacles with a push of his palm.
From around the corner, Bianca peeked out, Charlie huddled behind her. "Like… is it all clear?" Bianca asked, her voice small.
Aurélie gave a single, sharp nod. "For now."
It was then that Caden cleared his throat. "Ahem."
Aurélie and Kuro turned as one, their bodies tensing, hands drifting toward their weapons. They faced the two ruggedly dressed strangers, assessing them in a heartbeat: skilled, armed, and dangerously calm amidst the apocalypse.
Before a word could be exchanged, the wall next to them exploded inwards. Ember bounced through the cloud of dust and debris, giggling madly, followed by an exasperated Souta, who was brushing plaster from his trench coat. "Must you always choose the most dramatic entrance?" he sighed.
Caden and Evander looked at each other, a silent conversation passing between them. Caden raised an eyebrow. "I assume this is them."
Evander gave a slow, appreciative nod, his eyes lingering on Aurélie and her recently used sword. "I would say that is a fair assessment."
Kuro stepped forward, his voice polite but layered with steel. "And who might you be?"
"Friends," Caden said, offering a charming, razor-edged smile. "We're here to rescue you."
Charlie, ever the academic, interjected, stepping out from behind Bianca. "Ahem! Forgive our suspicions, but why? And how did you even know we were here? The logistical implications alone are—"
The platform gave another violent lurch, this time accompanied by the sound of a monumental structural failure somewhere deep below. Alarms wailed a new, more desperate frequency.
"We don't have time for this," Evander boomed, his patience thinner than his partner's. "The 'how' and 'why' can wait. Unless you'd rather stay and become Typhon food or CUA prisoners."
Aurélie and Kuro's eyes met again. The unspoken agreement was instantaneous. Trust was irrelevant; opportunity was everything. These men were a path out of the fire.
"We go," Aurélie stated, her tone leaving no room for debate.
Bianca's eyes went wide. "Wait! What about the sub? My tools! I need to—"
"Your technology is being secured as we speak," Caden interrupted smoothly. "It will be waiting for you. That was the primary objective."
His words were swallowed by a new sound—a deafening, earth-shattering roar from outside that vibrated through the very air. It was the Class III Behemoth, and it sounded closer than ever.
"We need to go! NOW!" Evander yelled, no longer asking.
He and Caden turned and sprinted back down the hallway the way they had come, not waiting to see if they were followed. They didn't need to. With a final, shared look of grim resolve, the six strangers from the sea fell in behind them, a makeshift alliance fleeing a crumbling world into the uncertain sanctuary of the next.