One Piece : Brotherhood

Flevance, North Blue

The battlefield was a scene of absolute chaos as Issho, the blind swordsman from the Donquixote family, faced off against Admiral Hazard, his opponent's fiery plasma clashing with the sheer force of gravity under Issho's control.

Amidst the burning remains of King Asbestos's palace, their powers collided in a whirlwind of plasma, gravity, and Haki, each shockwave threatening to tear apart what was left of the land itself.

"Heaven's Smite…!" Hazard's voice rang out like a thunderclap, summoning a massive pillar of plasma from the heavens.

The searing column tore through the clouds, racing toward Issho with an unstoppable, incinerating force. The very air around it twisted with heat, while anything caught in its trajectory turned to ash.

But Issho stood unmoved, his calm expression a stark contrast to the burning fury bearing down on him. With a measured swing, he raised his shikomizue skyward.

"Heaven's Pillar…" he murmured, and in response, concentric rings of purple energy cascaded upward from his blade, growing larger and larger as they spiraled into the air to meet Hazard's plasma.

The two forces collided, and the resulting explosion was cataclysmic. A blinding light tore through the remnants of the palace, and a thunderous boom echoed for miles. The shockwave carved a massive crater into the earth below, debris spiraling into the sky.

Gravity and plasma wrestled against each other, each Admiral pushing their powers to the limit in a contest of pure, unyielding force.

Yet even against plasma, one of the most destructive Logia abilities, Issho's gravity seemed to hold its own, preventing Hazard from gaining any ground.

Issho's mastery over gravity had reached an almost transcendent level, bending not just the battlefield but the very atmosphere around him to his will.

Hazard's expression twisted with frustration as he held out his hand, plasma flickering dangerously around his arm.

"Blazing Pulsar!" he roared, unleashing a beam of condensed plasma that glowed with an intense, white-hot brilliance, ripping through the air and barreling toward Issho like a missile.

Issho's stance remained rooted, feet pressing firmly into the ground as he prepared to meet the attack head-on. With a slow breath, he coated his arm and blade in advanced Armament Haki, his skin and weapon turning pitch black and radiating an aura of raw power. The shikomizue gleamed, almost as if alive, a testament to his unparalleled focus.

In a swift, practiced motion, Issho drew his blade with deadly precision.

"Ittoryu Iai: Tora Kiba!" he called out, his voice calm yet filled with conviction. His blade arced through the air, streaking like a deadly shadow.

The cresent-shaped slash cleaved clean through the Blazing Pulsar, splitting the plasma beam in half with astonishing ease. Hazard's attack dispersed in all directions, plasma scattering like embers, illuminating the battlefield in a fiery glow.

The shockwave of Issho's slash didn't stop there. The gravitational energy carried forward, carving into the palace grounds, slicing through stone, metal, and earth alike.

A deep ravine stretched across the field, a massive scar etched into the earth, as if the very fangs of a divine beast had torn at the land itself.

Hazard barely evaded the slash, his Observation Haki flaring in response as he sidestepped the attack's path. His breath was ragged, but his resolve remained strong. Issho was formidable—more formidable than he'd expected. But Hazard, was an Admiral of the Marines, and he refused to yield.

With a grim resolve, Hazard gathered his energy once more, plasma swirling around his fists like molten lava. He clenched his hands, the sheer heat warping the air around him.

"Solar Flare Burst!" he bellowed, unleashing a rapid series of plasma blasts, each one radiating a heat so intense it threatened to vaporize anything it touched.

Issho moved with fluid precision, Observation Haki guiding each motion as he deflected the blasts with swift, calculated swings of his blade.

His movements were deliberate, each deflection infused with his gravitational control, redirecting Hazard's attacks and sending searing bolts of plasma hurtling harmlessly into the ground.

Seeing that a direct approach wasn't working, Hazard took a step back, formulating his next strategy. The two powerhouses locked eyes, each sizing up the other with renewed intensity.

Hazard was a master of plasma manipulation, one of the most devastating Logia powers, and yet against Issho's gravity, he found himself at a disadvantage. Issho's calm and unyielding resolve was unnerving, a force in itself, as though he were one with the very cosmos.

Issho held his blade to his side, speaking softly as if to himself, yet his words echoed across the battlefield. "Admiral, you wield the reins of justice… But even then, you are helping these people carry out such a genocide?."

However, Hazard reamined unfazed, " That's some high and mighty words coming out of a mere pirate, Bastard."

With that, Issho raised his sword, concentrating his power until the air itself seemed to bend and compress around him. The ground beneath him fractured and cracked, pulled down by an invisible force as Issho's gravitational energy intensified. In a quiet, steady tone, he spoke his next attack. "Gravity Rend."

A dense, shimmering wave of gravitational force swept forward, its weight bending the earth beneath it. Hazard's plasma attacks twisted and crumbled upon impact, unable to penetrate the immense pressure bearing down upon them. Even Hazard himself, cloaked in plasma, felt the force as it pressed down, driving him to his knees.

Fighting against the weight, Hazard roared, his eyes filled with defiance as he summoned a massive sphere of plasma above him. The sphere grew larger and brighter, pulsing with an otherworldly heat.

"Corona Eruption!" he yelled, launching the massive sphere of plasma directly at Issho. The blazing orb expanded as it shot forward, incinerating everything in its path, turning rubble and debris into vapor.

But Issho stood firm, a figure of calm amidst the storm. His blade rose once again, his grip steady as he channeled gravity into one focused point. "Eternal Fall," he said with an unwavering voice.

He swung his sword, and a vortex of gravity spiraled upward, pulling in the massive sphere of plasma. The orb began to warp, compressed, and crushed by the invisible force until it imploded upon itself, disappearing into a singularity of gravity.

The resulting shockwave was deafening, ripping through the battlefield with enough force to level the remaining structures. Hazard staggered, his breath heavy, his expression marked by both caution and frustration. He knew then that this battle had become more than a clash of powers—it was a battle of wills, and Issho's will was iron.

***

Deep within the crumbling remnants of the Flevance kingdom, Hugo ran for his life. His lungs burned, and his heart hammered wildly in his chest, the weight of terror settling over him like a shroud.

He was the architect of the grand plague that had ravaged Flevance, bringing it to its knees in a matter of days. He had inflicted death upon thousands without a second thought, spreading his plague with callous precision. Yet now, death had turned its gaze upon him—a hunter more relentless than any he had ever known.

He stumbled through the twisting alleyways, sweat dripping from his brow as his mind raced.

How…how had he found me? Hugo's hand tightened instinctively over the pouch that held his final reserves of the serums that could make one immune to the plague, even with his fruit powers he could only create a limited quantity each day.

He thought it might be his last lifeline, his one desperate card to play, but deep down, he knew it was useless. This wasn't a man who could be deterred by sickness or disease.

The Cipher Pol agents—his supposed protectors—had been slaughtered in mere moments. Fifty men, all skilled assassins, had been cut down as though they were nothing more than paper before a storm.

He hadn't even seen his pursuer move; it had been a massacre, a symphony of brutal efficiency that had turned the once-proud agents into corpses scattered through the shadows. His pursuer hadn't even shown the slightest hesitation.

There had been no struggle, no signs of resistance, no chance for any of them to scream before they fell.

He'd seen what remained of their bodies, crumpled and twisted, and the sickening image replayed in his mind with each frantic step. He was no stranger to fear—he had caused it in others, held it over their heads like a weapon.

But now he understood what true terror felt like. This was no ordinary man chasing him. This was a man who stood among legends, a figure so feared he was said to rival even the Emperors themselves.

Hugo's thoughts spiraled as he darted into a dimly lit alleyway, seeking a hiding place. Even my colleagues had no idea I held the Plague-Plague Fruit…only one knew. But that agent was dead now, cut down like the rest, his secret buried with the others who had fallen.

The mission had been straightforward: infiltrate Flevance, stay undercover, and when the time came, spread the plague, and ensure the royal family alone remained unscathed.

He had done his duty with ruthless efficiency, his fruit making him the very embodiment of contagion. He'd been certain of his anonymity, certain of his ability to escape. But this…this was beyond anything he'd expected.

The sound of footsteps echoed from somewhere behind him, slow and unhurried, yet drawing closer. Panic seized him as he ducked into a dark alcove, pressing his back against the wall, clutching his bag as though it were a talisman against the monster that hunted him.

The silence was suffocating, each breath he took feeling as though it might give him away. For a fleeting moment, he dared to believe he had escaped, that he could somehow slip away unseen.

But then he heard the voice. Calm, chillingly calm. "Running only delays the inevitable, Hugo." The words seemed to come from all directions, a whisper wrapped in steel that slid down his spine like ice.

He clenched his jaw, every instinct screaming at him to keep moving, but his legs had gone weak. He knows my name. That simple fact shattered his last illusions of escape. He had been marked, hunted, and there was no escaping this predator.

Summoning the last dregs of courage, Hugo pushed himself to move. He broke into a sprint, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He could see the port in the distance, the cold night air carrying a hint of freedom.

But with each step, he felt the invisible presence behind him grow closer, the sensation of being watched intensifying.

Desperation overtook him as he skidded to a halt and swung around, clutching his hands forward as if they could stop the inevitable.

"Don't…don't come any closer!" Hugo's voice cracked, his eyes darting frantically into the darkness, desperation twisting his face.

"Don't you dare come near me… I am the Plague Human! No one's invincible against my powers! I swear it! You'll die along with me! You, of all people, should know what I can do with this devil fruit."

But silence was his only answer—a silence so deep it pressed on his chest, heavy and suffocating. The emptiness mocked him, a hollow laugh reflecting his own fear. He had spent his life wielding fear like a weapon, forcing others to crumble before him, and now it was he who was left crumbling.

And then, from the shadows, I emerged—a dark silhouette moving with lethal grace, my figure barely illuminated by the faintest glint of moonlight on my blade.

I stopped a few paces away, my presence exerting a crushing weight on the air, bending it to my will. To Hugo, I was no longer a man; I was the reaper incarnate, a silent force beyond his comprehension.

"You really know how to bluff, don't you, Hugo?" I chuckled, my voice calm, but each word a weight crashing down on him.

"That devil fruit of yours—it's remarkable, truly. In fact, I'd say I'm more interested in acquiring it than you can imagine." I took a step forward, my guard completely down. But instead of reassurance, my calmness only seemed to deepen his terror.

"Rosinante… I work for the World Government!" he stammered, his hands shaking as he took an involuntary step back. "If something happens to me, you'll answer for it. You understand the consequences!"

I tilted my head, feigning consideration, but my smile held no warmth. "Do I look like I care…?Consequences? For someone who wiped out an entire kingdom without a second thought, you sure are spineless." I took another step forward, my eyes locked onto him, watching him shrink under my gaze.

"But you know… I think I'm going to enjoy every moment of this," I murmured, savoring the way he recoiled. Each step I took felt like a final nail in the coffin he'd dug for himself.

In a final, desperate move, Hugo activated his devil fruit powers. Ominous green energy began to fill the air, swirling into a thick, noxious cloud as the plague sphere expanded around us.

The ground beneath us twisted, plants withered, the air itself seeming to rot within his aura. His eyes gleamed with desperate fury as he lunged, his arm grotesquely transformed by his fruit's power into a diseased, decaying appendage—he clearly planned to overwhelm me with sheer brutality.

"Do you really think I'm helpless against people who can use haki…?" he sneered, his mouth curling in a dark grin.

"It's your mistake, Rosinante. By the time I'm through with you, your head will be my trophy—and my rank will rise with it!" Using the speed of Soru, he blurred forward, his rotting hand reaching out, intending to break my guard with one fatal touch.

But I didn't move. I stood calmly as his hand clamped down on my shoulder. For a brief, triumphant moment, Hugo's face twisted into a look of victory as he cackled, his laughter filling the empty silence. Yet as seconds passed, his laughter faded, transforming into a look of confusion, then horror.

"W-why…" He stuttered, his eyes wide with disbelief as he stared at me, unscathed and unaffected.

"Why aren't you…why aren't you affected? My ability—this is my ultimate technique! My touch alone should bypass any Armament Haki defense. It doesn't matter who they are!" Panic filled his voice as he searched my expression, hoping for some flaw, some sign of weakness. But there was nothing there—only a silent, unyielding judgment.

With a casual motion, I raised my hand and grasped his face in a vice-like grip, my fingers pressing into his skin. Despite his flailing attempts to break free, I forced him down with little effort, driving him to his knees as his struggling grew weaker, his resolve crumbling.

Trembling, he finally began to plead, a rehearsed desperation filling his voice. "P-please… I was only following orders," he whispered, his voice barely a whimper.

"The world needed a way to handle Flevance, to contain the Amber Lead disease before it spread. I was just a tool—a pawn, you understand. They needed me to keep the royal family safe, to ensure no one would learn the truth about the contamination…"

But I only tightened my grip, his pleas washing over me like the hollow lies they were. "Is that all?" My voice cut through his excuses, each word as cold as steel.

"You played god, spreading suffering to hundreds of thousands without a second thought. And now here you are, groveling for mercy." The disdain in my tone was unmistakable, and he visibly shrank under it, his eyes wide and fearful.

With his face contorted in desperation, Hugo fell further to his knees, clasping his hands together in a pathetic show of humility.

"Please, Rosinante… I can be useful to you. I have connections—I can serve as an informant. Anything you need. The World Government—"

"You act well," I interrupted, "but your cowardice speaks louder than your pleas. Do you think I didn't hear the terror in your voice the moment you realized you couldn't escape?" I leaned closer, my eyes fixed on him, seeing through every one of his desperate tactics. "You're nothing more than a puppet who sold his soul for power, Hugo."

He trembled, but I saw the faintest glint of calculation return to his eyes. Even now, he was searching for a way out, weighing each option, trying to think of some way he might slip from my grasp. Cipher Pol agents were trained in a hundred ways to escape any situation, to feign weakness, to manipulate even when facing death itself. This was no different.

Seeing through his facade, I held his face, tilting his head up so he couldn't avert his gaze. "How many innocents cried for mercy before you poisoned them with your plague? Did you give them even a moment of reprieve?"

He tried to stammer a response, but the weight of his own deeds, coupled with the futility of his performance, crushed whatever defiance he had left. His act fell apart, and true terror overtook him.

I let my grip relax just slightly, leaning in close. "You know, Hugo, vengeance isn't just a way to soothe those who've lost everything. It's a way to honor the souls you tore from this world." My voice dropped to a whisper, my gaze unwavering.

"And there are quite a few people on my ship—children and adults alike—who would love to repay you for the lives you stole here on Flevance. I only hope you last long enough for them to find a sense of peace."

***

At the main port of the Flevance Kingdom, fifty grand galleons lined up in an imposing fleet, each bearing the royal crest of King Asbestos and packed to capacity.

But these ships were not filled with desperate refugees, nor the innocent lives lost to the relentless plague; they were stuffed with unimaginable wealth—gold, jewels, and resources gathered over generations by Flevance's rulers, all won through the ruthless exploitation of Amber Lead.

The kingdom's royalty intended to escape the country's downfall with every ounce of treasure they could haul, leaving the dying and suffering behind.

"Please… Please, sir! Let us aboard!" cries echoed from the throngs pressing against the barricade at the pier.

Thousands of desperate souls—men, women, and children—pushed forward in desperation, clawing at each other, begging to escape the disease tearing through the country.

But rows of Marine soldiers in protective bio suits held their ground, their faces obscured behind their gas masks, emotionless and resolute. Behind the blockade, the cries and pleas were nothing more than an inconvenience.

"Step back!" A Vice Admiral's voice boomed over the crowd, cutting through the pleas with chilling indifference. His expression twisted with disdain as he scanned the masses, unflinching.

"Open fire."

The command struck like a thunderbolt, and the Marine lines opened up with a hail of bullets. Shots tore through the crowd, bodies falling in waves as panicked screams filled the air.

Those struck by bullets collapsed in pools of blood, their cries silenced in an instant, while those behind tripped over the fallen in a desperate attempt to break through the barricade. The Marines didn't hesitate, nor did they discriminate—women, children, the elderly—it didn't matter to them.

To the Marines, these people were a plague themselves, a scourge to be eliminated lest they carry the disease to other lands.

"Don't let a single one through!" The Vice Admiral's cutlass gleamed as he raised it high, blackened with Armament Haki, and swung down, sending a blade of air slicing through the mob.

Dozens fell under the force of his attack, his face contorting into a dark grin as he watched the massacre unfold.

"Put them all down!"

The Marines around him followed his example, pushing forward with deadly precision, cutting down anyone who dared to get too close. The people of Flevance weren't fighting back; they were simply trying to survive, but to the Marines, they were already the walking dead.

"Tch, where is Admiral Hazard?" the Vice Admiral spat, irritation lining his face as he hacked down yet another civilian. He scanned the crowd, barely blinking at the countless bodies piling up before him. "This cursed rabble is going to be more of a headache the longer it lasts."

Despite the horror unfolding before them, the people of Flevance continued to press forward. They stumbled over the bodies of the fallen, undeterred by the bullets and blades that awaited them.

Mothers shielded their children, elderly couples clung to each other, and families held hands, their only goal to escape the death that awaited them if they stayed. The Vice Admiral's gaze shifted toward the distant capital, irritation etched on his face. How long did it take for the admiral to finish one simple task?

Then, a sudden, thunderous boom shattered his thoughts, and the unmistakable sound of cannon fire echoed across the port. The Vice Admiral turned sharply toward the sea just as a barrage of cannonballs struck the Marine ships guarding the perimeter around the royal fleet.

"Boom… boom… boom!" The explosions erupted in rapid succession, throwing Marines into a frenzy as the walls of smoke and fire climbed high into the sky. Out in the open waters, more than a dozen galleons sailed forward, each bearing the Jolly Roger of the Donquixote Pirates.

The Marine warships attempted to retaliate, but the Donquixote fleet moved swiftly, their cannons cutting through the formation, scattering Marines as they scrambled to respond to the assault.

On the deck of the lead vessel, Christina grinned, her gaze locked onto the fleet of galleons carrying the Flevance Kingdom's riches. The spoils they were attempting to ferry to the Holy Land were too tempting a prize to pass up.

After all, North Blue was the Donquixote Pirates' territory, and if anyone were to dictate what left or entered this sea, it would be them. She turned to her right, where a boy—hardly a man yet—stood with cold eyes fixed on the Marines and the dock.

"Think you can handle them?" she asked with a wicked smile. Though he was young, she knew better than to underestimate him. This boy was none other than Rob Lucci, the Young Master Rosinante's apprentice, and a prodigy in his own right, possessing skills as sharp and deadly as any seasoned warrior.

Without a word, Lucci leaped from the ship, launching himself toward the port with the effortless speed of a seasoned fighter. He locked onto one of the Marine ships where a Vice Admiral barked orders to his troops, mobilizing them to counter the incoming pirate fleet. Lucci landed with a silent, deadly grace, the Vice Admiral's attention drawn only by the faintest whisper of Lucci's presence.

The Marines on deck turned, startled by his sudden arrival. The Vice Admiral's eyes widened, but he quickly recovered, a sneer forming on his lips. "You think you can take us on alone, brat?" he snarled, raising his weapon, which gleamed with Armament Haki.

"Get ready to die!"

"Shigan….!" was the last word the Vice Admiral heard before everything went dark.