-Real World, Somewhere on the Grand Line-
When Portgas D. Ace saw Little Oars Jr. appear on the Sky Screen—saw his friend reduced to a severed head floating in preservative solution, tubes snaking through flesh that should have been dead—something inside him shattered.
His legs gave out. He collapsed onto the deck of his small vessel, hands gripping the wood until splinters drove into his palms.
"No..." The word emerged as a broken whisper. "Not him. Please, not him. Anything but this."
What Ace had never imagined, what his worst nightmares hadn't prepared him for, was now displayed for the entire world to see. Was this God's punishment? Was this divine retribution for the crime of being born?
"WHY?!" The scream tore from Ace's throat, raw with agony. "Little Oars, why did you end up like this?! It's my fault! It's all my fault! I deserve to die, not you!"
He pounded his fists against his own chest, trying to vent frustration that had no outlet. Because of his stubbornness—because he'd pursued Blackbeard alone, because he'd gotten captured, because he existed at all—too many people in the Whitebeard Pirates had been killed.
Ace knew Little Oars Jr.'s personality intimately. If Fire Fist was captured and execution announced, the gentle giant would absolutely participate in the rescue attempt. But Ace had never imagined his friend couldn't even choose death. Having his head severed, tubes forced through the stump, suspended in chemical solution unable to rest—how much pain did Little Oars endure in that glass prison? Ace couldn't begin to imagine. The cruelty was unbearable.
They'd used the straw hat as a cornerstone of their friendship. Little Oars had once told him, with that innocent smile giants somehow managed despite their terrifying size, that Portgas D. Ace was a gentle person.
But the world doesn't treat gentle people kindly, Ace thought bitterly. And it definitely doesn't treat the children of monsters kindly.
Is special bloodline really that important? Does being Roger's son mean everyone who cares about me has to suffer?
But who could Ace blame for all this? Should he hate the mad scientist Caesar Clown? But the truth was inescapable: everything was a byproduct of consequences caused by Fire Fist Ace himself. Little Oars Jr. was trapped in that container, unable to live or die. And gods only knew what had happened to his other brothers and sisters.
Ace was terrified. Afraid of discovering what other miserable futures awaited his crewmates. Their suffering was like knives stabbing into his chest one after another, each blade finding a new place to pierce until he could barely breathe through the pain.
I should leave, he thought suddenly. I should disappear. Maybe if I'm not with them, they'll be safe. Maybe Pops can spend his old age in peace. Maybe my brothers and sisters can live happily without me.
Roger's bloodline is a curse. I bring misfortune to everyone around me. Maybe I was born unlucky from the very beginning.
The thought of abandoning his family—of walking away from the only people who'd ever loved him—hurt worse than any physical wound. But watching them die because of him? That was unendurable.
-Moby Dick, Whitebeard Pirates Territory-
Edward Newgate—the Strongest Man in the World, the pirate who'd never bowed to anyone—felt his eyes growing uncomfortably hot as he watched Little Oars Jr.'s severed head float in its glass prison.
As everyone's father, this proud man couldn't bear to see his adopted sons suffer. Couldn't stand the thought of the elderly burying the young. Glimpsing the future too early was proving to be a curse rather than a blessing—seeing too much made it impossible not to feel crushing depression.
The Sky Screen had mentioned the Whitebeard Pirates' annihilation before. But those had been just words—abstract concepts his sons could intellectually acknowledge without truly feeling.
Now they felt it.
Little Oars Jr.—the gentle giant who'd asked Ace to make him a hat, who'd laughed like a child despite his monstrous size, who'd treated everyone with kindness—reduced to a trophy specimen in a madman's collection.
When a familiar person appeared in the Sky Screen, the impact of visual evidence shattered psychological defenses. Some crew members began crying openly on the deck. Others lamented and beat their chests in rage. Many gritted their teeth hard enough to draw blood, fury and grief mixing into something poisonous.
The Whitebeard Pirates finally had tangible understanding of what "annihilation" meant. If the giant Oars could be butchered and preserved, what happened to everyone else? Perhaps dying quickly in the Battle of Marineford was actually the merciful outcome.
-Present Day, Oars Pirates' Ship-
Every member of the Oars Pirates crew embraced their captain tightly, tears streaming down their faces. Little Oars Jr. stood awkwardly, trying not to move too much for fear of hurting his much smaller crewmates.
"Captain," one sobbed against his leg. "We can't let that happen. We can't let them do that to you!"
"We'll protect you!" another shouted. "We'll die before we let Marines take you!"
Little Oars Jr. touched his head with one massive hand, genuinely puzzled by the intensity of their reaction. "Don't be sad... it hasn't happened yet. Don't be sad..."
But his crew members couldn't stop imagining their gentle giant captain—who worried about stepping on flowers, who made sure to move carefully around smaller people—suffering conscious torment with only his head remaining.
The image would haunt them forever.
-Broadcast, Caesar's Laboratory-
Though Little Oars Jr. had lost most of his body, his brain's main functions remained intact. He could still remember, still think, still communicate. When he recognized Kozuki Momonosuke, he couldn't wait to speak—to share what he knew, to warn the child.
"Momo... leave... this place... danger... ous..."
The giant's voice was wet, distorted by the preservative solution and the tubes running through his severed neck. Each syllable took tremendous effort to produce.
Little Oars retained some language functions, but could only manage two words at a time. It took nearly a minute for him to complete a single sentence. But this gave Kozuki Momonosuke enough time to piece together the information—to understand what his friend was trying to say.
Momonosuke wiped tears from his face with his sleeves, forcing himself to suppress grief and think clearly. Guards could appear at any moment. He needed information, needed to understand his situation.
Little Oars Jr. had always been somewhat simple—innocent in the way only truly gentle souls could be. He didn't question why Momonosuke appeared so young compared to how he should look after twenty years. He just wanted to warn someone he recognized that terrible danger lurked in this laboratory.
"Little Oars," Momonosuke said quietly, glancing toward distant corridors for signs of approaching experimenters. "Don't get excited. Listen to me. I'll ask yes or no questions. It'll be easier for you. Just blink once for yes, twice for no. Save your strength."
The giant's massive eyes blinked once in agreement.
Momonosuke took a deep breath, steadying himself for answers he didn't want to hear. "Did... did Whitebeard really die in the battle?"
One slow blink. Yes.
The confirmation was still devastating despite knowing it already. Momonosuke's hands clenched into fists.
"Was it the Marine that did this to you?"
One blink. Yes.
"Are you the only member of the Whitebeard Pirates in this laboratory?"
Little Oars Jr.'s eyes blinked twice. No.
A spark of desperate hope ignited in Momonosuke's chest. Others were here? Others had survived?
"Are the other Whitebeard Pirates still alive?" he asked urgently.
Two blinks. No.
The longer anyone stayed in Caesar Clown's laboratory, the lower their chance of survival. Those Whitebeard Pirates who'd arrived earlier had all been dissected, their organs harvested, their bodies reduced to component parts. Finding a complete corpse was nearly impossible.
The hope died as quickly as it had sparked. Momonosuke sank to the floor, back against the cold glass of Little Oars Jr.'s container.
"I'm going to die here too," he whispered. "Mr. Law probably won't keep his promise. I'll be sliced up just like everyone else. I survived the garbage pit for nothing."
Little Oars Jr.'s bloodshot eyes focused on the small boy with sudden intensity. Perhaps sensing Momonosuke's despair, the giant gathered his remaining strength to offer guidance—to point toward a possible escape.
"Go... forward..." Each word took twenty seconds to produce. "There is... a mon... ster... leave... through... monster..."
Momonosuke's head snapped up. "A monster? What do you mean?"
"Mon... ster... ahead... can help... escape... go... forward..."
The words confused Kozuki Momonosuke. What did "there's a monster" mean? Was there some creature ahead that could help him leave? But what kind of existence could possibly break through this heavily fortified Marine base? And why would it help him?
Little Oars Jr. continued repeating the same cryptic guidance, his massive eyes imploring Momonosuke to understand, to trust, to try.
The boy had no other options. No other hope. Law might or might not extract him from this nightmare. The guards would eventually discover his empty container and hunt him down. He was eight years old, alone, and running out of time.
"A monster that can help me escape..." Momonosuke stood slowly, legs still weak but mind calculating odds. "It doesn't make sense. But then again, nothing about my life makes sense anymore."
He looked up at Little Oars Jr.'s imprisoned head, at the friend of the Whitebeard Pirates who'd somehow retained enough humanity to try saving a child he barely knew.
"Thank you," Momonosuke said quietly. "For trying to help me. I... I'm sorry about what happened to you. About Ace. About all of it."
"Go... now..." Little Oars urged. "Before... they... come..."
Momonosuke nodded once, then turned toward the direction the giant had indicated. Somewhere ahead, deeper in this laboratory of horrors, a "monster" supposedly waited. Something that could grant escape.
The hope seemed impossibly slim. But Kozuki Momonosuke had survived six months eating corpses, awakened Conqueror's Haki, obtained a dragon's power, and escaped from a sealed container through sheer stubborn will. Impossible odds were becoming his specialty.
He limped forward into the laboratory's depths, leaving Little Oars Jr. behind in his glass prison, searching for a monster that might be salvation or might be just another way to die.
Either way, it was better than waiting passively for Caesar Clown to return and finish what he'd started.
Behind him, Little Oars Jr.'s eyes closed slowly—a silent prayer that the child would make it, that someone would escape this hell, that his final act of guidance wouldn't be for nothing.