Deep in the forest, two figures stumbled through the undergrowth before collapsing weakly at the base of a giant tree.
"Haa... haa... We made it..." Ivankov gasped for breath, his enormous head resting against the rough bark. "That old hag... is an absolute monster!"
Bartholomew Kuma said nothing. He simply stared down at his own palm. A moment ago, this was the hand that had shoved the Paw-Paw Fruit into his mouth. A strange and unfamiliar power was already coursing through his veins.
"Vee-haw! We survived, Kuma!" Ivankov said, regaining a bit of strength and patting Kuma on the shoulder. "And it's all thanks to that black-haired big brother! Who was that guy? He was so cool!"
In Kuma's mind, the image of the man with the naginata, standing alone against the terrifying might of Charlotte Linlin, was burned forever.
"Mm," Kuma responded softly. The fear was still there, but a new, defiant flame had been ignited in his eyes.
"We need to go save Ginny and the others!" Ivankov struggled to his feet. "It's chaotic out there, so this is our chance! With your new power, we can definitely..."
His words caught in his throat.
At some point, the sky above them had grown dark. A colossal, five-pointed sigil, flickering with an ominous red light, had appeared out of thin air. Complex runes rotated slowly within it, emanating an oppressive aura so immense it felt like it could crush their very souls.
"What... what is that...?" Ivankov's voice trembled.
The next second, a figure wreathed in black lightning and ominous flames descended from the center of the sigil. He wore a black suit, a peculiar headscarf, and had a thick, walrus-like mustache. But the most terrifying features were his cold, emotionless eyes and the monstrous, spider-like legs that made up his lower body.
BOOM!
The moment the figure landed, an invisible shockwave of Haki erupted outwards. The earth cracked, ancient trees were torn from their roots, and the very air seemed to solidify. Ivankov didn't even have time to scream; his consciousness was instantly snuffed out, and he collapsed to the ground.
Only Kuma, relying on the incredible resilience of his Buccaneer bloodline and the power of his newly eaten Devil Fruit, managed to cling to consciousness. But it felt as if every bone in his body was screaming as he was slammed flat against the ground, unable to move a muscle.
The newcomer was one of the Five Elders, the Warrior God of Science and Defense, Saint Jaygarcia Saturn.
Saturn paid no mind to the unconscious Ivankov. His gaze was fixed entirely on Kuma.
"Buccaneer," he said, his voice quiet, yet each syllable was extraordinarily cold. "From the moment your race was created, you have only ever had two choices." Saturn slowly approached, his staff tapping against the cracked earth. "Become a slave, or die."
Slavery or death. The words pierced Kuma's mind. He remembered his father, shackled in chains, using his last breaths to tell him the story of the Sun God Nika—the hero who would one day bring laughter and liberation to all people.
He also remembered the black-haired pirate from just moments ago. A man of incredible power, who had been willing to fight a monster like Big Mom for two complete strangers.
Why? Why can some people decide the fates of others as if they are gods? And why are some people willing to risk their lives to save others, like heroes? And us... why were we born only to be slaves?
A surge of anger and defiance, stronger than any he had ever felt, overwhelmed the pain in his body and the fear in his soul. Kuma planted his hands on the ground and, with all his might, began to push himself up, fighting against the crushing pressure.
"Old man..." His voice was hoarse with pain, but his words were clear. "You have a lot of power, don't you?"
Kuma struggled to lift his head, an unyielding fire burning in his eyes. "If... if we were born only to be slaves... then why were we born at all? That... has no meaning!"
He thought of his friends, hunted like animals. He thought of Ginny and Ivankov. He thought of the man who had saved them.
"If..." Kuma's chest heaved, his voice rising to a roar. "If I have enough power now... I want to save them! I want to save all the pitiful people like me, with everything I have... just like Nika!"
The boy's declaration echoed through the silent forest. It was a naive and impossible dream, but it was filled with a heart-shaking determination.
Saturn remained unmoved. "That," he said coldly, "is why your race must be erased from history."
He slowly raised his staff, a ball of pitch-black energy condensing at its tip, aimed directly at Kuma's head. Before absolute power, the will to resist was the greatest sin of all.
Just as the destructive energy was about to be unleashed, a black shadow appeared at Saturn's side. The tip of a black-and-gold naginata, moving with silent, lethal speed, thrust directly at the back of his neck.
Kyle moved without a sound. This creature was beyond any bounty, a true monster at the top of the world. A sneak attack was the only chance. He put everything he had into a single, silent thrust.
Clang!
The harsh sound of metal on metal was deafening after the absolute silence of the attack.
Kyle's eyes widened. His all-out attack, the one that erased all sound, had been perfectly blocked by one of Saturn's spider-like legs, which had been raised with casual indifference. The tips of the naginata and the leg pressed against each other, grinding with a shower of sparks.
An immense force traveled up the shaft of his weapon. Kyle felt his arm go numb as he was thrown backwards, skidding for dozens of meters and carving two deep furrows in the earth before he could regain his footing.
This old bastard is tough! Kyle thought, shaking his numb wrist. Even tougher than Big Mom. The cynical smile was gone from his face, replaced by a grim seriousness.
Saturn slowly turned, his emotionless eyes moving from Kuma to Kyle. He glanced at the tiny, almost invisible scratch on the tip of his leg, and for the first time, a flicker of something—perhaps interest—appeared in his voice.
"A strange Devil Fruit... and Haki of this level," he stated calmly. "Are you a pirate?"
Kyle's smirk returned, sharp and defiant. "Does it matter?"
There was no anger in Saturn's eyes, only a detached coldness. "No," he said softly. "It makes no difference whether I clean up one bug, or two."
"Funny," Kyle retorted, readying his naginata again. "I was just thinking the same thing about you."
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