The moon hung high over the glassy sea like a watchful god, silent and judging. Thousands of stars pierced the blackness, their reflections dancing on the water as the small skiff drifted forward with each steady stroke of Nami's oars.
Sora leaned back against the edge of the boat, his head tilted toward the sky. The exhaustion had finally caught up with him. His new body might have extraordinary stamina, but his mind was begging for the sweet release of unconsciousness. He watched Nami through heavy-lidded eyes—the determined set of her jaw, the rhythm of her movements, the way moonlight caught in her hair.
That strange protective feeling flickered in his chest again. How odd to feel such a thing for a woman who would probably rob him blind if given half a chance.
"You know," he murmured, his voice thick with approaching sleep, "you never asked me what was in that letter. Back on the ship."
Nami's eyes flicked toward him, then back to the horizon. "That's because I don't care. Everyone's got secrets."
"Fair enough." His eyelids drooped. "Wake me if we're about to die, okay?"
"No promises."
A hint of a smile played across his lips as he surrendered to the darkness behind his eyes.
The transition wasn't gradual. One moment he was aware of the boat's gentle rocking, the salt spray on his skin, and the distant smell of tangerines that seemed to cling to Nami's hair—the next, it was all gone.
He was falling inward. Not down, not backward, but into the very center of himself. The physical world vanished, its sensations stripped away layer by layer until nothing remained but pure consciousness suspended in a void.
Then, without warning or transition, he simply... was.
Sora found himself standing on what appeared to be a platform of polished obsidian, black and reflective as the sea at midnight. It hung suspended in an endless, starless twilight that stretched in all directions. The silence here was absolute—a deep, profound quiet beyond anything he'd experienced in either of his lives.
"What the hell...?" His voice should have echoed in such a vast space, but instead the words were swallowed by the silence, as though sound itself was an intrusion here.
As his awareness adjusted, the true nature of the space revealed itself. He wasn't standing in an infinite void. He was at the center of a massive, circular chamber. Six distinct pathways radiated from his central platform like the spokes of a colossal wheel, each stretching away into shadowy distance.
"I'm guessing this isn't a regular dream," Sora muttered.
Five of the paths were shrouded in darkness and swirling mist, but they weren't silent. Each pulsed with its own distinct energy, calling to him without words.
From one pathway came the guttural roar of something massive and furious, a beast straining against invisible chains. The air around it crackled with suppressed rage, the atmosphere superheated with violence waiting to be unleashed.
Another path whispered and giggled, a thousand secrets being told all at once. The sounds overlapped, childlike and mischievous one moment, calculating and invasive the next. The air there seemed to vibrate with curiosity and manic energy.
The third path carried sounds of the wild—leaves rustling, a hawk's distant cry, the low growl of a predator stalking through underbrush. The atmosphere was primal, connected to something ancient and untamed.
A fourth radiated warmth like a hearth fire. The feeling there was stubborn, protective, and strangely enough, punctuated by the distinct rumble of a hungry stomach. It felt like the embodiment of selfless defense.
The fifth and final dark path sent ice through his veins. The cold clinking of chains and the oppressive weight of absolute, merciless judgment. Whatever waited there was beautiful and terrible, a force of retribution that would find every sin and extract its due.
But only one path was different.
It was illuminated by soft, ethereal violet light that seemed to emanate from the path itself. Unlike the others, it was clear, open, inviting. It hummed with controlled power, the feeling of absolute order and dominance.
Sora stared at the six paths, understanding washing over him like a wave.
"The fruit," he whispered. "This is the Devil Fruit. This is what's inside me."
He turned in a slow circle, taking in the majesty of the chamber. This wasn't some simple power-up. This was something far more complex, far more alive.
His gaze returned to the illuminated path. Unlike the chaotic energies pulsing from the others, this one called to him with purpose, with intent. There was intelligence waiting there.
With a deep breath and the distinct feeling he was crossing a threshold from which there was no return, Sora stepped onto the violet path.
As he walked, the light intensified. The air grew thick with a presence that was both alluring and overwhelming, like walking into the throne room of a queen who could crush him with a thought. The feeling wasn't frightening exactly—it was exhilarating.
The path ended at a simple yet elegant throne that seemed woven from shimmering strands of pure psychic force. And sitting upon it, with a smile that was equal parts amusement and knowing assessment, was a woman of impossible beauty.
Her pale auburn hair cascaded around shoulders left bare by a sleek, form-fitting cheongsam-style dress. Her figure was the definition of an hourglass, curves that would stop traffic emphasized by the tailoring of her dark attire. But it was her eyes that froze him in place—piercing gold with concentric red rings. A perfect mirror of his own.
"Ara, ara~" she purred, her voice a melodic alto that sent a shiver down his spine. "So the vessel finally decides to visit his own soul. I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever show up."
Her posture was relaxed, one leg crossed elegantly over the other, an elbow propped on the armrest with her chin resting delicately on her knuckles. She looked like she'd been waiting for him for a very long time.
"Who..." Sora swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. "What are you?"
A smile played across her full lips as she uncrossed her legs and rose from the throne.
"I am a fragment of you," she said, circling him slowly. "The part that, upon seeing the world, decided it should kneel. I am your ambition for control, given form." She stopped before him, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from her body. "You may call me Maki."
She gestured to the chamber around them. "What you see here is the true nature of the fruit you've consumed. The Bunshin Bunshin no Mi, Model: Rikudō. The Six Paths fruit." Her golden eyes gleamed. "Six distinct beings, each a facet of your soul, each with our own... specialty."
"So I can turn into six different people?" Sora asked, his mind racing with possibilities.
Maki laughed, the sound both musical and slightly mocking. "Such a limited way of thinking. We are not disguises to be worn, Master. We are extensions of your will made manifest. You summon us to act on your behalf."
"Summon? Like a genie?"
"More like a warrior calls forth their blade." She tilted her head, studying him. "And there are limits, of course. At your current level, you can only call upon one of us at a time. The strain would be too great otherwise."
Sora absorbed this information, cataloging it for later analysis. "And you? What's your... specialty?"
Her smile widened, revealing perfect teeth. "Control. Force. Dominance." She raised one hand, and the air around them rippled visibly. "I bend gravity and space to my will. I push. I pull. I crush those who oppose you."
She stepped closer, her gaze intense, analytical. "I heard you, out there on that little boat. 'I want the world.' A wonderfully simple, honest ambition." Her voice dropped to a near whisper. "It resonates with my very being. Unlike the petty squabbles of lesser men, your goal is one of absolute order, with you at its center. It is... a beautiful concept."
She circled him again, her fingertips trailing lightly across his shoulders. "A conqueror cannot be bothered with trivialities. He needs a vanguard to clear his path." She stopped in front of him, her expression becoming something deeper, more possessive. "I find your ambition... delicious. For that reason, I will answer your call first. I will lend you my strength to crush, to control, to dominate all who stand in your way."
To Sora's surprise, she knelt before him, a gesture that somehow managed to convey anything but submission.
"I will serve you... Master."
Sora felt something shift within him, a connection forged, a power now accessible that hadn't been before. "How do I call you?"
"Simply speak my name with intent," she replied. "Your need will reach me, and I will come." She rose to her feet in one fluid motion. "But remember, Master, summoning me requires significant energy. Choose your moments wisely."
The nexus began to fade around them, the violet light dimming. Maki's form shimmered like a mirage in desert heat.
"Our time is up for now, Master. Your body awakens." Her smile was the last thing to fade. "When you require order to be brought to this chaotic world... simply call my name."
Sora's eyes flew open with a gasp. The skiff rocked beneath him, and overhead, the black of night had given way to the first blush of dawn. Pink and orange streaked across the eastern sky, painting the underside of scattered clouds in fiery hues.
He sat up quickly, his mind racing. That hadn't been a dream—it had been too vivid, too coherent, too real. He could still feel the phantom memory of Maki's presence, the echo of her power humming in his veins like a second heartbeat.
Maki. The Deva Path. Control incarnate.
"Welcome back to the land of the living."
Nami's voice pulled him from his thoughts. She looked exhausted, dark circles under her eyes testament to her overnight vigil, but there was relief in her expression as she pointed toward the horizon.
"There it is. Shells Town."
Through the morning mist, the silhouette of an island took shape. Sora could make out the outlines of buildings, a harbor, and rising above it all, what appeared to be some kind of fortress or lookout tower.
"About time," he said, stretching his arms overhead. "Any longer on this boat and I might have had to eat you."
"You'd break your teeth trying," she retorted, but there was no real heat in her voice. She was too tired for their usual banter.
Sora studied her for a moment—the slump of her shoulders, the way she blinked slowly to keep herself awake. Without a word, he moved to take the oars from her.
"I'll get us the rest of the way," he said. "You look like hell."
"Such a charmer," she muttered, relinquishing the oars without protest.
As he began rowing, his mind returned to the revelation of the night. Six paths. Six different powers at his command. And he'd only met one of them so far.
What were the others like? What could they do?
The island grew larger with each stroke of the oars. Shells Town. Their first real destination in this world. Whatever waited for them there, he now had an ace up his sleeve. Or rather, a queen.
"Hey." Nami's tired voice interrupted his thoughts. "What's with that look on your face?"
"What look?"
"That smirk. Like you know something nobody else does." Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What happened while you were asleep?"
Sora's smile widened. "Just had a really good dream."
She snorted. "You're so weird."
"You have no idea," he murmured, pulling the oars through the water with renewed vigor.
Ahead, Shells Town waited, the first stepping stone on a path that would take him to the very top of this world. And if anyone stood in his way...
Well, he had just the woman to help him crush them.