I always believed that nature was unbiased. It simply took back what was hers in the end—and I could understand that. But gods? They're a different story. They're biased as hell.
I must've done something to piss them off because from the moment my day started, things went off the rails.
It all began when I was casually walking to the store. Out of nowhere, an earthquake hit, and a chunk of the street lifted up like a ramp. A 16-wheeler, caught in the chaos, launched off it straight toward me. But by some miracle, I managed to dive-roll out of the way just in time.
Then, later that day, I was taking my usual nap in the forest. You might wonder why wild animals didn't bother me, but I've always had this eerie, unnatural stillness when I sleep. It was something I developed over the years—like a supernatural predator aura that made animals instinctively avoid me.
But this time, something was off.
I woke up to an unnatural coldness, and the air reeked of chlorine. Before I could even sit up, lightning crackled around me, and three bolts struck the exact spot I had been lying on just moments before. I barely had time to process that when—
BOOM!
A damn satellite from Asia crashed just a few feet away, knocking me back several meters. No warning, no signs—just a random, full-on satellite drop.
At this point, you'd think my luck couldn't get any worse. And yet, as I tried to process my near-death experiences, a stray bullet from a neighbor cleaning his gun zipped straight toward me.
That's how I died.
3rd Person POV – The Void
In the vast expanse of darkness, time and space had no meaning. Only small, distant lights drifted like dying stars, occasionally merging before fading into oblivion. At the center of this endless void, a large black orb pulsed with an eerie magenta glow. It absorbed the surrounding energy, its form constantly shifting like a living, breathing entity.
Jinx's POV – The Void
I don't know how long I've been here.
At first, I tried counting the seconds, but after ten thousand years, I stopped. Who knows, maybe it's been even longer.
To keep my mind from breaking, I started practicing sage techniques from Naruto—not because I thought they'd be useful, but because I had nothing better to do. Eventually, I realized something weird. I no longer had a body. It didn't bother me much, but the cold emptiness surrounding me felt eerily familiar.
Then, I noticed the small lights drifting around me. It took me another five years to realize they were connected to me. One day, on impulse, I absorbed one, and a flood of memories hit me.
The memories belonged to a ninja from 1475—a warrior who trained from the age of five and died at forty. Through this, I discovered something unexpected: an inner domain.
It manifested as a mountain range surrounded by a dark forest of black ice spikes beneath an eternal blizzard. A blood-red waterfall cascaded down from the highest peak, forming a river that cut through the frozen wasteland. At the summit, a crater housed a single red spider lily, swaying under an eclipse that bathed the world in an eerie glow.
It reminded me of the Soul of Cinder's boss arena. Strangely, I found it comforting.
Absorbing more soul fragments expanded this domain. Each time, another red spider lily bloomed in my mental landscape. Most of the memories I gained were from boring people—9-to-5 workers from the 1800s. But occasionally, I'd glimpse futuristic Earths, apocalyptic landscapes, even alternate universes—DC, Marvel, timelines beyond my original world.
That's when it hit me.
I wasn't just accessing souls from my timeline or universe. These fragments came from everywhere.
After a quarter of my inner domain had blossomed, something changed.
The campfire at the mountain's peak began to call me. When I reached out, the world around me shifted. Suddenly, I found myself standing in a vast desert filled with stone statues of people from every era in history. In the distance, an enormous glowing tree loomed, its branches stretching endlessly.
I had no idea how long I stood there before she appeared.
A gothic woman materialized before me, her presence exuding a raw, unearthly power. She casually snapped her fingers, and in an instant, I found myself seated in an elaborate gothic office.
But what stunned me the most—
I had a body again.
She smirked, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Well, damn. I didn't expect anyone to last over a billion years in there," she mused. "Thought you'd go insane after the first month."
I blinked. "Did you say a billion years?"
"Nope," she corrected. "You've been there for exactly 13,359,538,883 years, 5 months, 29 days, 12 hours, 34 minutes, and 45 seconds." She tilted her head. "Well, 1,359,538,883 years, 5 months, 29 days, 12 hours, 35 minutes, and 12 seconds now."
My brain short-circuited for a second.
She stretched lazily. "Anyway, your death was an accident. A couple of gods got into an argument, and their energy flared out, screwing up Earth. As compensation, I'm reincarnating you into a world you'll recognize—but you won't remember why until later."
A blue screen popped up in front of me, revealing seven ability slots.
"Take it or leave it," she said.
I took it.
The slots spun like a slot machine before finally stopping. My eyes widened at my selections:
Cursed Energy + Shrine
Conqueror's Haki
Supreme-Grade Blade
Uchiha bloodline
Custom Devil Fruit
Moon Breathing
Ghost Rider's Bike
Before I could ask questions, the woman grinned. "Oh, and one more thing. You'll be reborn 68 years before the current timeline in the Grand Line. You won't have access to most of your powers—only your Elven and Otsutsuki bloodlines, plus Moon Breathing at age sixteen. Now, good luck."
She snapped her fingers, and my vision went black.
Time Skip – Grand Line, 50 Years Ago
A decently built pirate warship cut through the waves like a beast. On its deck, two men bellowed with laughter, slamming down mugs in a furious drinking contest.
Prime Whitebeard.
Rocks D. Xebec.
Two monsters of the sea, their very presence enough to unsettle even hardened pirates. The crew cheered them on nervously, unsure if the drinking would end in laughter or bloodshed.
The contest was interrupted by a panicked shout from the crow's nest.
"Captain! Ten miles ahead—an island!" the lookout cried, his voice strained with confusion. "But… it's not on the charts. Not on any of 'em!"
The deck grew quiet. In the age of discovery, unmarked islands were treasures—or traps. And on a ship like this, curiosity was a deadly instinct.
Xebec lowered his mug, ale dripping from his beard. His grin widened, the kind that promised violence and glory.
"An island the world doesn't know about, eh? Sounds like fate's dangling a mystery in front of us, Newgate."
Whitebeard raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. He set his mug down, the wood groaning under his massive hand.
"Then let's see what secrets it's hiding."
Both men closed their eyes for a moment, their wills stretching out across the sea like invisible storms. Observation Haki swept over the horizon, skimming across the waves until it touched the edges of the distant island.
And then they froze.
Even through the blur of distance, what they felt was enough to silence every thought.
A crushing presence blanketed the island—an oppressive Conqueror's Haki that radiated like the weight of death itself. It didn't simply demand submission; it suffocated, dragged, and smothered every instinct to resist.
Whitebeard's spine prickled. He had faced beasts, pirates, and even monsters of the sea, but nothing like this. Even diluted by distance, the haki pressed against him, crawling under his skin.
"…This haki… it's unnatural. Like the grave itself has woken up."
Xebec's grin faltered for the briefest second before twisting into something manic. His crew might have quivered at such power, but to him, fear was nothing but spice to the unknown.
"Kuahahaha! Death, you say? Then I'll toast to it!" He slammed his fist on the table, splintering the wood. "Any force that can make even my bones tremble—that's something worth seeing with my own eyes."
Whitebeard didn't laugh. His eyes, sharp and wary, stayed fixed on the horizon where the shadow of the island barely broke the waves.
"Whatever's waiting there… it ain't normal. Even from this far out, it chills the blood."
Both men, for once, shared the same thought:
What kind of monster could radiate such haki that even legends felt the sting of death from miles away?
And on that unmarked island…
A new soul was awakening.
The Rocks Pirates cut through the waves, tension heavy in the air. As the ship neared the uncharted island, the sight that greeted them silenced even the rowdiest of the crew.
A storm swallowed the land whole. Black clouds churned endlessly, casting the island in eternal twilight. Snowflakes drifted down in slow, haunting patterns, their whiteness broken by sudden cracks of black and magenta lightning that lit the skies in jagged bursts. Even though the sun blazed high above the Grand Line, here it felt as though dusk had fallen, the air thick with unnatural cold that stung skin and bone alike.
Xebec grinned at the sight, while Whitebeard's eyes narrowed with wariness. But neither man suggested turning back.
The moment the ship brushed the shore, the Conqueror's Haki rolling off the island surged like a tidal wave. The crew collapsed one after another, foaming at the mouth or falling into unconsciousness. Only two men remained standing.
Xebec spat on the ground, adjusting the hilt of his blade.
"Pathetic. If this island knocks you out just by existing, you're not worthy to see what's inside."
Whitebeard said nothing, his jaw tight, eyes locked on the storm-wrapped treeline. The two monsters of the sea strode forward, leaving their crew unconscious in the snow.
For an hour they pressed deeper, their boots crunching against ice-coated roots and frostbitten soil. The deeper they went, the stranger the world became.
Trees were not trees, but black ice sculptures, their branches twisted like skeletal arms. The air grew colder still, the snow falling heavier, muffling even the sound of their breath. The haki didn't lessen—it grew sharper, piercing, almost sentient in its suffocating weight.
Xebec chuckled low, the sound echoing in the silence.
"This isn't just Conqueror's Haki, Newgate. This… this feels like the island itself is alive. Like death decided to take root here."
Whitebeard grunted, his hand resting on his naginata.
"Whatever's waiting, it ain't human."
At last, they pushed through the frozen treeline and stepped into a clearing.
And they froze.
Before them rose a colossal tree made of black ice, its surface jagged like obsidian, yet pulsing faintly with veins of magenta light. Snow coated its roots, and sprouting from the ground in perfect contrast were hundreds of red spider lilies, their petals trembling in the cold wind.
But it wasn't the tree that stole their breath.
At its heart, fused with the ice itself, was the figure of a young girl. Her body was partially absorbed into the trunk, her pale skin glowing faintly beneath veins of frozen crystal. Her hair shimmered with frost, cascading into the roots, and her chest rose and fell as though asleep.
The air around her thrummed with Conqueror's Haki so intense it warped reality itself, pressing against Xebec and Whitebeard like the hand of a god.
Lightning cracked overhead, black and magenta bolts illuminating the surreal scene.
Xebec's grin faltered for the first time, his laughter coming out uneven, almost forced.
"…A brat…? You mean to tell me this whole cursed storm, this graveyard of haki, is coming from her?"
Whitebeard's knuckles whitened on his weapon, his instincts screaming at him. Yet his gaze never left the girl in the ice.
"No… not a brat. Something else. Something this world shouldn't have."
For the first time in years, both monsters felt a chill crawl down their spines—not from the storm, but from the thing sleeping in the black ice.
The moment Xebec's foot crossed the threshold of the clearing, the earth itself howled.
The island shook violently, trees of black ice groaning as cracks spiderwebbed across their trunks. Overhead, the storm writhed like a living thing, shifting into a howling blizzard. Snow fell in violent sheets, and streaks of black and magenta lightning tore across the skies, splitting the heavens open with every flash.
Both Xebec and Whitebeard stopped dead in their tracks, their eyes locked on the "girl" at the center of it all.
Her eyelids trembled, then slowly opened.
The instant her eyes—twin orbs of violet, deep and endless like the night sky itself—fully awakened, the blizzard shattered outward in a gust so powerful it tore through the trees. The winds howled, snow was hurled into the distance, and in seconds the storm settled back into the lighter, eerie snowfall that had blanketed the island when they first arrived.
Silence.
The "girl" shifted. Slowly, agonizingly, she pulled herself free from the black ice tree, one limb at a time. Shards of frost fell from her body like broken glass as she tore herself from the prison that had bound her for uncountable years. When at last she stepped free, snow clung to her pale skin, her hair dusted with frost like a crown of winter itself.
Xebec's usual feral grin flickered into something sharper, something hungrier.
"Kuahahaha… what a sight. Eyes like the stars, wrapped in death's own aura… I call dibs, Newgate. This one's mine."
Whitebeard said nothing. His gaze stayed locked on her, but even he felt the weight pressing against his chest—the weight of something beyond human.
The girl did not acknowledge their words. Instead, she turned back to the tree that had once held her. With a faint, almost delicate touch of her right hand, the trunk shattered like brittle glass, collapsing into black shards that dissolved into the snow.
From within, a pedestal of obsidian ice rose, and upon it lay an aged katana sheathed in lacquered black wood. Its presence bled menace. The scabbard bore faint etchings like veins of crimson, and the guard was wrought in the shape of a withered flower.
The Black Mortal Blade.
Xebec's grin widened. His instincts screamed at him, but his blood sang louder.
"Oi, girl. Let's make this simple. I challenge you to a Davy Back Fight. Winner takes all. Lose, and you're mine."
No words came from her lips.
Instead, with a calm that split the tension like thunder, she reached for the weapon. Her fingers brushed the hilt.
Shing!
The sound of the blade leaving its sheath echoed like the tolling of a funeral bell. The Mortal Blade gleamed with a dark, abyssal shine, its edge whispering of eternity.
Snow fell still in that moment, the storm pausing—as if the world itself was holding its breath.
Whitebeard's knuckles tightened around his naginata. Xebec's laughter rose like a challenge to the gods.
And the girl—reborn from death, cradling the blade of oblivion—stood ready.
The storm rumbled overhead as the girl unsheathed the Black Mortal Blade, its dark edge glinting under the magenta lightning. Snow swirled around her, settling for a brief second before exploding into chaos with her first step.
Xebec laughed, shouldering his weapon, the sound booming through the clearing.
"Kuahahaha! A little girl with a toy thinks she can stand against me? Show me, brat—show me why death itself bows to you!"
Whitebeard said nothing. His grip tightened on his naginata as he prepared himself to intervene if necessary. But deep inside, even he wanted to see how far this "girl" could go.
First Exchange
The girl exhaled once, her breath misting in the frozen air. Then she moved.
Moon Breathing, First Form: Dark Moon, Evening Palace.
In a single instant, her blade drew from its sheath, cutting a wide crescent through the air. The slash multiplied—dozens of chaotic crescent blades erupted outward, weaving a storm of pale moonlight arcs.
Xebec's eyes widened as the slashes screamed toward him. With a roar, he swung his weapon in a brutal arc, splitting the first wave apart. But the crescent blades curved unnaturally, rebounding like living things, forcing him to dodge and weave.
Snow exploded under his feet as he barely avoided the barrage. A shallow line of frost trailed across his coat where one blade grazed him—and instantly, his skin prickled with a creeping cold.
The girl advanced, movements elegant yet merciless, her sword strokes flowing like water yet sharp as death.
Second Form: Pearl Flower Moongazing.
Three crescent slashes cut forward, each birthing a multitude of smaller moon blades. They filled the air like a storm of falling petals—beautiful, deadly, impossible to fully block.
Xebec snarled, his Observation Haki flaring as he dodged through the storm, his massive frame moving with terrifying agility. Yet even with his monstrous speed, crescent blades kissed his flesh, cutting shallow wounds. Each one spread an unnatural chill through his veins, slowing him, numbing him.
Whitebeard's eyes widened.
"…Those aren't just sword strikes. That's… an art. Like she was born to wield the blade itself."
The girl pivoted, snow spiraling around her feet.
Third Form: Loathsome Moon, Chains.
Her blade carved two massive arcs across the clearing, releasing a storm of moon blades that rained down like shackles. The crescents crashed into the ground, carving deep scars into the frozen soil, their impact echoing like chains snapping shut.
Xebec raised his weapon to guard, his monstrous strength cleaving through a cluster of blades. But the storm was relentless, the black ice spreading where the blades landed, crawling outward like frostbite given form.
His laughter faltered as he noticed it—when he parried too close to her body, his limbs stiffened, breath catching in his lungs. The cold itself was alive, eating into him.
"…Tch. So that's it." His grin returned, sharper now, edged with danger. "You're not just some sword prodigy. That cold—if it touches me, even I could die."
Without hesitation, the girl shifted again.
Fourth Form: Crescent Mirage, Moonlit Illusion.
She vanished into a flurry of slashes, crescent-shaped arcs overlapping into an illusionary storm. Dozens of afterimages of her form danced across the clearing, each swing radiant with moonlight.
Xebec's Observation Haki strained as he tried to pin down her true self. Every slash was real, yet not. Every flicker was a phantom, but each one could kill.
"Kuahahaha!" His laugh was half-mad, half-exhilarated. "This is more like it!"
Blood sprayed across the snow as several crescents cut into his flesh, shallow but chilling. Each strike left frost crawling over the wounds, slowing his monstrous movements.
The girl exhaled again, lowering her stance. The storm hushed for a heartbeat.
Fifth Form: Moon Spirit Calamitous Eddy.
Her blade barely twitched—but the air itself screamed. Multiple curved slashes layered atop each other, collapsing into a spiraling vortex of crescent moon blades. It tore the ground apart, pulling snow, ice, and shards of stone into its orbit.
Xebec's grin twisted as he planted his feet, his will exploding outward. His own Conqueror's Haki clashed against the vortex, black lightning sparking through the clearing. With a monstrous roar, he cleaved into the storm, splitting the vortex apart—but even so, his arms shook, his weapon rimed with frost.
The girl did not relent. She stepped forward, her violet eyes glowing with cold resolve.
Sixth Form: Perpetual Night, Lonely Moon – Incessant.
Her sword blurred, unleashing a wild barrage of curved slashes, each one birthing crescent moon blades that flooded the clearing like an ocean of death. The snowfield itself seemed to rise into a tidal wave of light and shadow, cutting in every direction.
Xebec laughed again, blood trailing from his lips as he deflected, dodged, and charged headlong into the storm.
"YES! This is it! This is the fight I've been waiting for!"
Whitebeard could only watch in astonishment, his instincts screaming at him that even stepping between them would be suicide.
The clearing became a battlefield of blizzards and moonlight, black ice crawling across the ground with every step the girl took. Xebec, for the first time in years, fought not with arrogance but with the primal joy of a man staring death in the eye.
And death looked back at him with violet eyes, wielding the Black Mortal Blade.
The battlefield was chaos—snow and crescent blades cutting the air, Conqueror's Haki crackling like a thunderstorm. For a moment, the clearing was nothing but light, shadow, and the clash of wills.
Then Xebec roared, throwing his monstrous strength into a charge.
The girl stepped forward to meet him, blade flashing with moonlit arcs.
But this time, he didn't flinch. He cut straight through the storm.
Their weapons collided—his raw power against her refined technique.
CLANG!
The shockwave ripped through the clearing, snow blasting outward in every direction. For a heartbeat, the world froze—then the girl was sent flying, her small frame hurled across the ice until she slammed against the edge of the clearing. She barely managed to twist her blade, deflecting the brunt of the strike, but the sheer force rattled her to her bones.
Her chest rose and fell in ragged breaths, the Mortal Blade trembling slightly in her hands.
Xebec lowered his weapon, a wolfish grin splitting his face. Blood dripped from shallow cuts on his arms, but he didn't care. His laughter rang out, booming over the storm.
"Kuahahaha! So that's it, eh? All that sword genius, all that fancy black ice, and yet—" He lifted his weapon, pointing it at her like a spear. "—you've got no real strength behind it. If I had to guess… you're no tougher than a marine fresh outta training."
Whitebeard's eyes narrowed, his sharp instincts confirming the truth. The haki, the ice, the techniques—terrifying, yes—but her body? Fragile. If not for the tricks, she wouldn't last a minute against a monster like Xebec.
The girl didn't respond. Her violet eyes stayed locked on Xebec, calm and unblinking, even as blood trickled from her lip.
Snow swirled at her feet, the black ice creeping wider across the clearing, feeding off her resolve. Her blade steadied, its dark edge glinting like a shard of the moon itself.
Xebec's grin only widened. His voice dropped into something deeper, hungrier.
"But that's what makes this fun. Weak bones, weak flesh—yet you dare to wield death like it's yours to command. Kuahahaha… I'll crush you, girl, and take that blade for myself!"
He lunged forward, faster than before, his killing intent blazing like wildfire.
And the girl raised her sword again, ready to answer with the cold and the moon.
Xebec lunged, his massive frame cutting through the snow like a demon of war. His weapon rose high, Haki crackling along its edge as he aimed to end the fight with a single, brutal strike.
But the girl did not retreat.
Her violet eyes narrowed, and instead of lifting her blade, she slammed her left hand down onto the frozen ground.
KRACK—CRRRRRK!
The clearing howled as the earth split open. Black ice erupted outward in a violent avalanche of jagged spikes, twisting upward like the fangs of some buried leviathan. Each spike shimmered with veins of magenta, the cold radiating from them sharp enough to make the air itself brittle.
The forest screamed as trees shattered, collapsing beneath the wave of spears. Snow was launched into the storm as though the heavens themselves were cracking open.
Xebec's eyes widened in wild delight. He bellowed laughter even as the spikes tore toward him.
"Kuahahaha! That's more like it!"
He swung his weapon with monstrous force, cleaving through the first wave of ice. Shards exploded in every direction, glittering like broken obsidian. But the spikes didn't stop—new ones erupted with every step the girl took, the entire clearing becoming a killing field.
Xebec was fast—faster than anything that size should be—but even so, black frost licked across his skin whenever he drew too close. The unnatural cold sank into his flesh, slowing his swings, numbing his monstrous muscles. His Haki flared to burn it off, sparks of black lightning flashing across his body, but the chill lingered, stubborn and lethal.
Whitebeard watched, lips tight, his knuckles white on his naginata. He could feel it even from a distance—that cold wasn't normal. It wasn't just frost. It was death made tangible.
"…That aura… if it touches you, even the strongest flesh won't hold."
The girl rose from her kneel, the Mortal Blade gleaming with reflected lightning. Around her, the black ice spikes curved inward, as though the island itself bent to her will, forming a jagged throne of frost and lilies.
Her voice finally slipped past her lips—cold, soft, yet echoing through the storm.
"You will not take another step."
Xebec's grin sharpened into a snarl. His Conqueror's Haki exploded outward in a violent wave, blasting apart nearby spikes. Black lightning arced across the clearing, splitting the frozen soil.
"Don't tell me where I can't go, girl!" he roared. "I'll crush your little tricks and show you what real power is!"
He charged again, his monstrous aura colliding with the blizzard of black ice, while the girl raised the Mortal Blade, moonlight gathering once more along its edge.
The clearing became a battlefield of gods and death itself.
Xebec's Conqueror's Haki cracked against the black ice storm, his weapon tearing through spike after spike, his monstrous laughter booming as if the world itself was his plaything.
But then the girl… vanished.
Her body dissolved into black mist, collapsing into a flowing shadow that spread across the frost like liquid night. The Mortal Blade clattered against the ground, but instead of fading, its presence only deepened—feeding into the darkness.
The storm hushed. The island groaned.
From that spreading shadow, a shape began to rise. Massive. Primordial.
Snow and ice exploded outward as a towering beast erupted from the void—a 15-meter giant fox of black fur, veins of violet fire glowing beneath its pelt. Its body rippled with shadow, each movement twisting reality around it. Magenta lightning streaked along its fur, arcing off its body like it was tearing the storm apart just by existing.
It had only one tail, long and whip-like, but the sheer force radiating from it bent trees and shattered frozen ground as it lashed.
And the eyes…
The same violet eyes as the girl. Endless, starry, cold—like the night sky itself staring into their souls.
Whitebeard's breath caught, his knuckles whitening on his naginata.
"…A fox…? No… that's no animal. That's death given flesh."
Xebec's grin split wider, but his laughter came with a hoarse edge now. The beast's aura pressed against him, forcing his lungs to work harder just to breathe. Every step closer chilled his blood, frosting the edges of his weapon despite the Haki blazing along its surface.
"Kuahahaha…! So that's your true face, eh?" His grin sharpened, half-snarl, half-admiration. "One tail, and you still make the air feel like the grave. If this is you half-asleep, brat—what'll you be when you've grown?"
The fox lowered its massive head, its maw opening with a deep, rumbling growl that shook the clearing. Black mist poured from its fangs like smoke from a forge, each breath colder than the blizzard around them.
Then it moved.
One claw slammed down, releasing an eruption of black ice spikes that rippled outward like a tidal wave.
The ground cracked. The sky roared.
And for the first time in decades, Rocks D. Xebec realized that his monstrous power might not be enough to laugh away.
Xebec's monstrous frame tore through the avalanche of black ice, his laughter booming, his Conqueror's Haki tearing the storm apart as if to prove his dominance. He raised his weapon, charging straight at the towering fox—until something changed.
The fox's fur rippled, shadows twisting unnaturally.
Then—
Eyes.
Dozens of them, glowing violet, snapped open across its body. One massive, unblinking eye opened upon the single swaying tail, radiating a suffocating spiritual pressure. The moment they opened, the air grew heavier, colder, as though the storm itself bent beneath their gaze.
The fox let out a roar, not of sound alone, but of dark cold. The shockwave slammed into Xebec, driving him back several meters, his boots gouging trenches into the frozen earth. The laughter on his lips faltered for just a second, replaced by a snarl of raw challenge.
Whitebeard's expression hardened, his instincts screaming at him that this was no ordinary ability—this was a power drenched in something otherworldly.
The fox's maw opened wide.
Dark, condensed energy spiraled within its throat—nature energy, foxfire, and spiritual force twisting into a violently rotating orb. Black flame licked outward, edged with violet frost, while the sphere spun faster and faster, pulling the very air into its gravity. Snowflakes, shards of ice, even fragments of rock were sucked inward, crushed against its surface before vanishing into the swirling mass.
The pressure was suffocating. Even from a distance, Whitebeard felt his chest tighten as though the world itself was being pulled toward that growing core.
Xebec's grin returned, sharper, manic, his body thrumming with exhilaration. His Conqueror's Haki flared in response, black lightning splitting the sky.
"Kuahahaha… you think I'll run from this, fox? Come on! Show me! SHOW ME!"
The foxfire orb pulsed violently, growing brighter, darker, heavier, until it resembled a miniature black sun, its surface roaring with unstable energy. Every rotation bled burning aura and bone-crushing pressure, while frost rimed the ground in sigils of foxfire where the sphere's energy leaked.
Then—
Kuro-Rinka: Black Foxfire Bloom!
The fox unleashed the orb with a roar that cracked the heavens.
The projectile shot forward at blistering speed, a meteor of black flame and violet frost. The impact shook the island before it even landed, the air shattering around it in concentric rings of distortion.
When it struck, the world exploded.
The blast tore through the forest, vaporizing black ice and earth alike. A crater bloomed outward, glowing foxfire sigils scorched into the frozen ground, pulsing with residual energy. The shockwave hurled Xebec back further, his massive frame colliding with the ice and skidding across the snow before he rose, blood trickling from his lip, his grin still burning.
Whitebeard shielded his eyes, the sheer force nearly buckling his knees even as a spectator.
"…That attack… it isn't just destruction," he muttered. "It's… like death itself's breath."
Xebec rose, his laugh ragged but thunderous.
"Kuahahaha…! YES! That's it! That's what I wanted to see! A beast that spits black suns—tell me your name, fox, so I can carve it into history when I BREAK YOU!"
The fox loomed over him, violet eyes blazing, frost and foxfire crawling along its fangs as the storm swirled in submission to its presence.
And for the first time since his rise to power, Rocks D. Xebec felt his blood run colder than the ice beneath his feet.
The crater still smoldered from the Kuro-Rinka blast, black flames licking along its edges, violet frost spreading like veins across the ground. The air crackled with the weight of foxfire sigils, humming like divine seals etched into reality itself.
Yet through the smoke, a silhouette pushed forward.
Rocks D. Xebec.
Blood streaked his jaw, his coat was in tatters, and his arms smoked from burns and frostbite. But his grin—wild, unstoppable—was wider than ever. His Conqueror's Haki surged like a living storm, tearing through the lingering aura of death pressing down on him.
"Kuahahaha!" His laughter echoed across the battlefield. "That nearly killed me, fox! GOOD! Now let's see what happens when I stop playing around!"
The fox growled, its violet eyes narrowing as its fur bristled with shadows. Its claws slammed into the ground, spikes of black ice erupting around it as the storm bent to its will once again. The massive tail arched forward, its eye glaring at Xebec like judgment itself.
Then the fox lunged.
The ground shattered under its weight as it swept a claw the size of a ship's mast down toward him. Frost trailed behind its strike, turning the very air brittle.
Xebec roared, meeting the claw head-on. His blade, coated in black lightning, carved into the descending strike. The impact shook the island, shockwaves splitting the ice and uprooting trees of obsidian frost. Both monster and man were hurled backward, but both charged again without hesitation.
The fox lashed its tail, the massive eye glowing before releasing a blast of dark cold. Xebec dove forward, his Conqueror's Haki hardening around him like armor, his weapon slamming into the blast and splitting it apart. Frost rimed his shoulders, but his laughter didn't falter.
They collided again and again. Claw against steel. Roar against roar. Every blow gouged the land, carving new scars into the cursed island.
The fox swiped with both claws, a flurry of black ice erupting in a lethal storm. For a moment, the beast seemed unstoppable, its sheer size and elemental mastery overwhelming. Crescent arcs of shadow-fire snapped through the air, remnants of Moon Breathing seeping into its movements even in this form.
But Xebec refused to yield.
He tore through the storm like a beast himself, his weapon cleaving arcs of destruction with raw brute force. The fox's claws slammed into his chest, ice creeping across his skin, but with a roar he buried his haki-hardened blade into the beast's side, ripping free a spray of black foxfire and violet blood.
The fox screamed, staggering backward, its breath faltering. Its one tail slammed down desperately, shattering the ground into jagged glaciers of black ice, but Xebec barreled through them, unrelenting.
"Not enough!" he roared, veins bulging with fury and exhilaration. "You may have tricks, but I have POWER!"
The fox lunged again, jaws opening to charge another Kuro-Rinka. The sphere of black foxfire spun violently in its throat, gravity pulling snow and stone toward its core. The ground trembled, the air screaming from the pressure.
But Xebec was faster this time.
He closed the distance in a single monstrous leap, his blade crackling with Conqueror's lightning. Before the sphere could fire, he slammed his weapon upward into the beast's jaw, forcing its maw shut with a bone-shattering crack. The unstable orb fizzled violently, bursting into an explosion inside the fox's throat.
The detonation hurled the beast backward, flames and frost ripping through its body. It crashed into the edge of the clearing, snow and stone collapsing in avalanches around it.
The fox let out one last, ragged roar. Its eyes dimmed, its massive frame shuddering before dissolving into black mist.
When the smoke cleared, the beast was gone.
And in its place, lying unconscious in the snow, was the "girl."
Xebec staggered forward, bloodied but triumphant, planting his weapon into the frozen ground. His grin was ragged, but victorious.
"Kuahahaha… I win. Fox or not—you fall the same as everything else."
Whitebeard approached cautiously, his sharp gaze narrowing as the snow settled over the unconscious body. The form was fragile now, small again, pale skin dusted with frost, violet eyes closed.
But something caught his attention.
The robes were torn in the clash, the chest rising faintly with breath—but not the chest of a girl. No, the truth was undeniable now.
Whitebeard's voice rumbled low, carrying a rare tone of disbelief.
"…Xebec. That's no girl."
Xebec's grin faltered just slightly as he looked down, realization dawning on him. Then he barked out a laugh that echoed through the clearing, mad and thunderous.
"Kuahahaha! A boy, then! A frail little boy playing at godhood with death in his veins!"
Whitebeard's eyes lingered, thoughtful and uneasy.
"No… not just a boy. Something more. Something this world isn't ready for."
The storm above them rumbled again, as if agreeing.
And in the snow between them lay the unconscious child who had fought like death itself—yet was no more than a boy.
The storm above simmered, its magenta lightning fading into distant rumbles as silence fell over the ruined clearing. The boy lay unconscious in the snow, his breath shallow but steady, his body fragile now that the monstrous fox had vanished.
Xebec loomed over him, one boot planted firmly into the frost, weapon resting against his shoulder. Blood dripped from his wounds, but his grin—feral and triumphant—burned brighter than ever.
"Kuahahaha!" His laughter shook the clearing. "A boy! A brat with no strength in his bones—yet he fought me like death itself had taken form. That's worth more than gold, Newgate."
Whitebeard said nothing. His sharp eyes stayed fixed on the unconscious form, his instincts gnawing at him. He had felt many things on the battlefield, but the haki this boy had radiated… it was something beyond the seas, beyond men. A storm in human form.
Xebec crouched down, gripping the boy by the collar with one hand and lifting him as though he weighed nothing. The Mortal Blade, half-buried in the snow beside him, seemed to hum with a quiet resonance—as if bound to the boy's soul.
Xebec threw back his head, his voice booming like thunder.
"By rights of the fight—he's mine! Davy Back or no, this one belongs to Rocks D. Xebec!"
The unconscious boy stirred faintly, frost steaming from his breath, but no words came. Only the flicker of violet in his half-lidded eyes before he slipped back into the void.
Whitebeard stepped forward, his massive frame casting a long shadow over the snow. His voice was low, rumbling with a rare note of warning.
"…Careful, Xebec. You saw it yourself. That boy's power isn't normal. Not even close. If he awakens fully—he could become a force even you can't control."
Xebec barked a laugh, dragging the boy's limp form over his shoulder with no hesitation.
"Control? I don't want to control him! Kuahahaha! I want him to burn the world down at my side!"
He turned, his grin wicked, teeth bared like a wolf.
"With me, he'll have no choice but to grow strong—or die. And if he dies, then he wasn't worth my time. But if he lives… then history will remember Rocks D. Xebec as the man who unleashed death itself onto the seas!"
The storm rumbled again, distant but lingering, as though the island itself disagreed.
Whitebeard glanced once more at the boy's face—the pale features, the faint frost clinging to his hair, the eerie serenity even in unconsciousness. A child with the aura of death, chained to a monster like Xebec.
"…This could end the world," Whitebeard muttered under his breath.
Xebec didn't hear him—or if he did, he didn't care.
With a triumphant stride, he carried the boy out of the clearing, the Mortal Blade clutched in his other hand, its black edge glinting with the promise of death.
And so, the seas gained a new passenger—
Not a girl, but a boy.
Not a weakling, but a storm waiting to awaken.