Moonlight shines through the cracks as Yoshi's hammock sways with the creaking ship. He looks over the edge to ensure Annabelle is sleeping. Swinging his legs across, he hops down. His feet thud to the floor, and he freezes, waiting to see if Annabelle wakes. When she rolls away, he sighs. Rummaging through a bag, he retrieves an apple and carrot just before sneaking out the door.
The door bangs with the rocking ship, startling Annabelle awake. Flopping onto her back, she groggily watches the empty hammock swing back and forth. The door slams again, and she lifts her head. Blinking, she rotates between the empty hammock and the swinging door. "Yoshi," she mumbles. "Yoshi!" she throws the covers back, jumping out of bed. Closing her eyes, she grips her chest, "Where would he go?" She looks down when an apple rolls across the floor and hits her foot. "Farul." Without thinking, she rushes out.
The castle town is unnaturally still under the weight of the imposed curfew, its streets bathed in an eerie silence broken only by the occasional flicker of dim streetlamps. The moon hangs low, casting pale light over the cobblestones, and the shadows of empty stalls and shuttered windows stretch like grasping fingers. Annabelle's silhouette cuts through the gloom, her figure elongated and ghostly as she runs, her footsteps echoing sharply against the stone walls. Each breath she takes is ragged, her chest heaving as sweat beads across her brow, trickling down her face in cold streaks. The air is thick with tension, the kind that makes every sound—a distant creak, the rustle of a stray cat—feel like a warning.
As she rounds a corner, her mind betrays her. A vision of the apparition from their first night flashes before her eyes—its blank, mocking face pressed against the cracked windowpane, its hollow eyes piercing through her. She stumbles slightly, her heart lurching as the memory grips her. Shaking her head violently, she scolds herself under her breath. "Focus, Annabelle," she mutters, her voice trembling but firm. "Keep moving." The words are a mantra, a lifeline to tether her to the present. She can't afford to falter, not now, not when so much is at stake.
Her legs burn with exertion, but she pushes forward, her eyes darting to every shadow, every flicker of movement. The town feels like a labyrinth, its familiar streets now foreign and menacing under the curfew's oppressive grip. Yet, she knows she must press on. The apparition's face lingers in her mind, a haunting reminder of the unseen dangers lurking in the darkness, but she forces it aside. There's no room for fear—only survival.
Rounding a corner, Annabelle slams to a halt, her chest heaving as she braces a hand against the cold, rough surface of a stone wall. The night air bites at her lungs, each breath sharp and labored. She squints into the darkness, her heart pounding as a tall, dark outline of a man emerges from the shadows, his presence imposing and deliberate. He stalks toward her, each step measured and menacing. "You there," his voice cuts through the silence, low and commanding. Her breath hitches as she sees the glint of a katana being drawn, its blade catching the faint light of a distant streetlamp. "Do not move!"
Annabelle's eyes dart frantically, scanning for an escape route as the figure quickens his pace, closing the distance between them. Panic surges through her veins, and she stumbles backward, her boots scraping against the gravel. Without thinking, she turns and bolts, her legs pumping as she sprints down the narrow alley. "Hey!" the man shouts, his voice echoing off the walls, but she doesn't look back. Her heart races, her vision narrowing to the path ahead.
Suddenly, her foot catches on an uneven stone, and she trips, crashing to the ground with a cry. Pain shoots up her leg, sharp and searing, as gravel bites into her palms and knees. She rolls onto her side, clutching her injured leg, and sees blood pooling on the ground, dark and glistening in the moonlight. Desperation claws at her as she struggles to rise, the sound of footsteps growing louder behind her. The night feels heavier now, the shadows closing in as she fights to keep moving, to escape the looming threat.
Gripping her knee, she watches the outline morph into someone she recognized. Her eyes widened when his long, square nose and round eyes moved into view. Standing over her, Kaku peered down and said, "I know you." Annabelle attempts to back away, but he jerks her to her feet, "Where is the boy?"
A gust of wind blows, and Annabelle grunts when she slams against the wall. Sliding to the ground, a scream escapes her lips. Kaku steps forward, his two katanas flashing as he blocks a barrage of attacks from the blank-faced apparition. The clash is a blur of motion, steel meeting an unseen force. "Damn, you're fast," Kaku mutters, his voice calm but edged with tension. The apparition cocks its head unnaturally, its expressionless face unsettling. "But are you fast enough for: SHAVE!" Kaku vanishes in an instant, his speed defying sight.
In a burst of movement, the apparition reappears on a rooftop, its hollow gaze fixed on the scene below. The night air crackles with tension as Kaku reappears, his katanas poised, ready for the next strike. The apparition looms above, a silent, menacing figure, as Annabelle struggles to her feet, her heart racing.
Kaku glides downward from the rooftop, his movements fluid and precise, both katanas poised to strike from behind. Just as he swings, the apparition vanishes with a faint breeze, leaving only empty air. Kaku curses under his breath, bracing a foot on the roof's edge as his sharp eyes scan the area. His gaze lands on Annabelle below, her hands trembling as she creeps up the wall, straining to stand. Blood trickles from a cut on her leg, her face pale but determined.
"SHAVE," Kaku mutters, and in an instant, he reappears in the street, striding toward her with purpose. Annibelle's chin quivers, her breath hitching as she sniffles, attempting to drag herself away. Her eyes dart between Kaku and the shadows, fear, and exhaustion etched into her features. Kaku's expression remains stern, his katanas gleaming in the dim light as he closes the distance, his presence both a threat and a promise of protection.
Just as he is about to reach her, Kaku's reflexes snap into action. He lifts his katana with lightning speed, blocking the sudden, devastating blow from Eternal Night. The clash reverberates through the air, sparks flying as steel meets steel. His eyes narrow, locking onto his new opponent, ready for the fight.
Tears fall down Annabelle's face as she squeals in Charlie's arms. "You came!" she sobs, "You are finally here!"
"Sorry we took so long," Charlie lets her lean on him to stand. "We were just dispatched and arrived as fast as we could."
Wrapping her arms around him, "I am so happy to see you," she sniffles.
"You are injured, we should…"
"No," she interrupts him, "we have to get Yoshi. I think I know where he is."
"Go," Marya calls over her shoulder.
Vaughn scowls at Kaku, his grip tightening on Light Cleaver as he swings the massive ax with practiced ease. "You going to be good with this guy?" he growls, his voice edged with irritation. Marya stands firm, her own weapon holding the enemy at bay, her expression calm but focused.
Thrusting him back, "Yeah," she smirks, "this might get interesting."
"Okay," Vaughn gestures to Charlie, "We will meet you back at the dock."
"Hawk-eye!" Marya tilts her head when Kaku calls out. "What are you doing here?" Marya lifts Eternal Night, gripping the hilt with both hands. "We are allies." She sends a slicing attack, cutting the air and forcing Kaku to jump away. Holding his position in the air, he sees Annabelle escaping. "Moon Walk!"
"I don't think so!" Marya leaps, intersecting him.
As she swings Eternal Night, he twists and blocks her. Their eyes meet, "What the hell are you doing?" She propels him backward, sending him soaring over rooftops away from her companions. His feet scrape across the slats until he stabs the surface with his blades to stop.
He gazes upon Marya's silhouette, perched on a pillar in the pale moonlight. He blinks, and she is gone. On impulse, he lifts his katana, deflecting her strike when she reappears in front of him. "You're not him," he mutters, "But those eyes." Kaku pivots, attempting to throw her off balance. He kicks a leg, sending a slicing attack from his feet, and Marya dodges. They stand, facing each other, "Who are you?"
Marya positions herself for an overhead slash. Kaku groans, "No more defense." He prepares to charge. "You are just like him." Marya adjusts her stance to counter. "But you are not him!" Kaku jets towards her prepared to strike. He slashes, then curses when her image dissolves. "Devil Fruit powers!" He rolls, avoiding the slash from above. Searching for her, he becomes still at the feel of a cold, sharp edge on his neck. "You are quite skilled." He holds his katana out in surrender. "You remind me of someone with a similar fighting style."
A distant scream pierces the night. "Sounds like your friends may be in a bit of trouble." Kaku inclines his head back, "I am not the most dangerous adversary tonight. Did you ever stop to think about why I am here? I am a member of Cipher Pole, after all." Another scream echoes. "What are you going to do?"
After a long moment of silence, "How about I…" He spins, cursing when the silhouette he cut dissipates in a whiff. Standing, he lowers his Katana, "What the hell? When did she?" His head swivels. "Were we even?" He sheathes his Katana. Scratching his head, "Hell, I am not even sure what just happened." He sighed when another scream erupted, "I guess I should go; check that out. Moon Walk!"
Following the screams, Marya leaps from rooftop to rooftop. She skids to a stop, peering down from above the stables. Yoshi is in Annabelle's arms while huddled against the wall with Charlie. Vaughn scans the sky with Light Clever at the ready. "Vaughn!"
He glances at Maria. "Prepare yourself! There is a murderous demon."
Marya tightens the grip on the hilt. "A murderous demon?"
"They call him Hakuba," Kaku calls out from two roofs over. Holding his Katana, prepared to draw, "He is why I am here. Those two are just happenstance. I intend to take them in since I was unsuccessful on the last island."
Marya's hair flutters in the wind as she wheels Eternal Night, the massive blade cutting through the air with a low hum. Her sharp gaze locks onto Hakuba, his wild golden mane and piercing eyes a stark contrast to the chaos around them. Sparks ignite as he slides the edge of his rapier against her blade, the metallic screech echoing through the town. In an instant, they move with the force of a gale, their weapons clashing in a dizzying dance: clang, clack, slice, bang, clink, ring, pop, ding. The speed is blinding, their movements a blur of skill and precision.
Suddenly, Hakuba vanishes, leaving only a faint woosh in his wake. Marya spins, her instincts sharp, Eternal Night poised to strike. Her eyes scan the area, every muscle taut, ready for his next move. The air crackles with tension, the fight far from over.
"Wow," Kaku tightens his hold, "that was impressive. You deflected all his attacks."
Ignoring Kaku, she calls to Vaughn, "I am going to give you cover!"
Vaughn nods, "Right." Looking back to Charlie and the others, "Get ready to move!"
"You think I am going to let you—" Kaku's words cut off as his mouth falls open, his sharp eyes widening. Thick fog rolls in with unnatural speed, swallowing the town in a dense, impenetrable vapor. He curses under his breath, his voice muffled by the sudden silence. "Who the hell is she?" he mutters, turning in place, his katanas ready. The fog clings to him, obscuring his vision and muffling sound.
Realizing the futility of the situation, Kaku scowls. "This is a lost cause. Moon Walk!" He propels himself into the air with a powerful kick, rising above the fog. From his vantage point, he gazes down at the town, now consumed by a dark, swirling veil. His expression hardens. "Would anyone at HQ even believe this story?" he wonders aloud, his voice tinged with frustration as he disappears into the night.
Vaughn leads the small group through the open path Marya's power has carved, his grip tight on Light Cleaver. The air is thick with tension, the fog swirling ominously around them. A sudden puff of mist shifts, catching Vaughn's sharp eye. He reels back, instincts taking over, and swings Light Cleaver in a wide arc. The blade meets resistance as Hakuba materializes, his rapier flashing. A blinding explosion of light erupts upon impact, the force sending shockwaves through the air. Hakuba lets out a high-pitched squeal, his form flickering before vanishing in a burst of speed.
"Keep moving!" Vaughn barks, his voice cutting through the chaos. The group presses forward, their footsteps quick and urgent. Vaughn's eyes remain vigilant, scanning the fog for any sign of another attack. The path ahead is uncertain, but there's no time to hesitate—only to push forward, deeper into the unknown.
Marya emerges from the mist like a phantom, her presence calm yet commanding. Hakuba charges after the fleeing group, his wild hair streaming behind him, but she intercepts him with a swift, decisive motion. Their blades meet in a flurry of motion: zing, ring, zip, slice, clink, whoosh. The clash is a blur of steel and speed, their movements too fast for the untrained eye to follow. They dart above the veil of fog, their figures silhouetted against the dim sky.
With a powerful swing, Marya slices through the air, the force of her strike sending Hakuba hurtling through the atmosphere. He crashes into the stone clock tower with a resounding crack, the impact sending debris scattering. Marya is on him in an instant, her blade pressed to his throat as she kneels over him, her expression unreadable.
"I just realized something about you," she says, her voice cool and measured. "You certainly are fast, but you don't seem to be using Haki." Her grin is faint but unmistakable as Hakuba, desperate, stabs and slashes at her with his rapier. The attacks land, but Marya doesn't flinch. "That won't work on me," she says, her tone almost amused. Her body remains unscathed, a testament to her Devil Fruit Power.
Hakuba's eyes widen in shock, his confidence faltering as Marya's grip tightens, her blade unwavering. The mist swirls around them, the battlefield silent except for the faint hum of Eternal Night, poised to strike. A whirlwind swirls, and they both appear on pillars, facing each other.
Marya smirks, "It is time to wrap this up." Her eyes shine a menacing red, and her blade turns an ominous black. Gripping the hilt firmly with both hands, she stands ready, a picture of lethal grace. With a wisp of motion, Hakuba is suddenly in front of her. As if she were in pointe shoes, she pirouettes, a deadly ballet that combines elegance with sheer power.
Before the edge of her blade can strike, Hakuba panics. His eyes widen, and a flicker of fear crosses his face. Sensing the intense intent of her Haki, he realizes he is moving too fast to parry. His speed, which once was his greatest asset, now becomes his downfall. He screeches, flailing as he attempts to evade her attack. But it is too late.
Marya's blade slices through the air with a hiss, hooking onto Hakuba's masculine aura. The force of her strike sends him crashing to the ground like a bullet. The impact reverberates through the air, a testament to her unmatched prowess. Hakuba gasps, the wind knocked out of him, as he struggles to regain his composure.
Vaughn's arm shot out, halting the group as Hakuba's blade impaled the ground inches ahead, sending a spray of dirt into the air. The path trembled, and a low groan echoed from the shadows. The group froze, eyes darting toward the source. Cautiously, they edged closer to the fresh indent in the earth, their breaths shallow. Yoshi's small hand tugged at Annabelle's sleeve, his voice barely a whisper. "Ms. Annabelle…" She glanced down, her expression softening despite the tension. The groan came again, louder this time, and Vaughn's grip tightened on his weapon.
"Yes," her misbelieving eyes stay locked on the unconscious Cavendish, "I can see."
"But we have to—" Yoshi's voice was cut short as Marya emerged from the swirling mist, her silhouette sharp and menacing against the pale haze. Her eyes glinted with cold determination, and the blade in her hand caught the faint light, its edge gleaming with deadly intent. The air seemed to still, the group's breaths caught in their throats as she stepped forward, each footfall deliberate, echoing like a death knell. Yoshi stumbled back, his words swallowed by the weight of the moment. Marya's gaze locked onto her target, unyielding, as she raised her weapon, poised to deliver the final blow. Time stretched thin, the world narrowing to the space between her and her prey. The mist clung to her like a shroud, and in that heartbeat of silence, there was no doubt—this was the end, unless someone acted fast. But who would dare?
Holding Eternal Night high, Marya's blade gleamed with a cold, unforgiving light as she prepared to strike. Her eyes burned with bloodlust, her focus razor-sharp on the figure beneath her. "NO, DON'T KILL HIM!" Annabelle's voice shattered the tension as she threw herself across him, shielding his body with her own. The blade halted inches from her back, trembling in Marya's grip.
Annabelle's chest heaved, her voice desperate but firm. "He saved us! If it weren't for him, we'd be dead!" Marya's glare didn't waver, the tip of Eternal Night still pressed to his chest, her knuckles white around the hilt. The air was thick with tension, the weight of her fury palpable. Annabelle's plea hung in the silence, a fragile thread of hope. "Please," she whispered, "spare him." For a moment, the world held its breath, waiting for Marya's next move.
"Annabelle?" Cavendish lifts his head. Disoriented, he surveys his surroundings. "What?"
Tears welled up in her eyes. "It is time for us to go." Cavendish sits up. Noting Marya's bloodlust, he attempts to stand. Annabelle shakes her head, "It's okay." She places her hands on his shoulders. "They are the companions I called for." She sniffles. "We have to go."
Cavendish is jostled when Yoshi throws his arms around him. Annabelle wipes the hot tears from her face. "Thank you for everything. I will be forever grateful." Tugging a tearful Yoshi from him, she stands.
"Do we really have to go?"
"Charlie," everyone turns to Vaughn, "Carry the boy. We need to get moving." Yoshi whines as Charlie scoops him up.
Annabelle turned to leave, the moment's weight pressing heavily on her shoulders. She didn't look back, not at first, but then Cavendish's hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around her wrist with a grip that was both firm and tender. His touch stopped her, and she turned to face him, her eyes searching his. "Is this goodbye forever?" he asked, his voice low, tinged with a vulnerability that surprised even him. The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions.
Annabelle's lips parted, but the words didn't come immediately. She glanced down at his hand on her wrist, then back up to meet his gaze. "I hope our paths cross again," she said finally, her voice steady but soft, carrying a quiet hope that belied the finality of the moment. It wasn't a promise, but it wasn't a dismissal either. It was a fragile thread of possibility, one that Cavendish clung to even as he felt it slipping through his fingers.
He opened his mouth to say more, to tell her everything he hadn't yet found the courage to voice, but the words died on his lips as the cold edge of Eternal Night pressed against his throat. Marya stood over him, her presence as sharp and unyielding as the blade she wielded. Her eyes, still smoldering with the remnants of bloodlust, locked onto his, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow to the space between them. Cavendish didn't flinch, didn't pull away. He simply shifted his gaze to meet hers, his expression calm but wary. He could feel the tension in her, the barely restrained fury that still simmered beneath the surface.
Slowly, deliberately, he relaxed his grip on Annabelle's wrist, letting his hand fall to his side. The warmth of her skin lingered for a moment before fading, leaving behind a hollow ache. He didn't fight it, didn't try to hold on. Instead, he stood still, his breath steady despite the blade at his throat, and let the feeling of her slip away. It was a surrender but not a defeat. He knew better than to challenge Marya in this state and knew that any move he made could tip the balance into chaos.
Marya's gaze didn't waver, her blade unyielding as she studied him, her expression unreadable. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, until finally, she lowered Eternal Night, the blade retreating with a soft hiss. She didn't speak, didn't offer an explanation or a warning. She simply stepped back, her presence receding like a shadow retreating from the light.
Annabelle watched the exchange, her heart pounding in her chest, but she said nothing. She gave Cavendish one last look, a mixture of gratitude and sorrow in her eyes, before turning and walking away. Cavendish stood rooted to the spot, the weight of her absence settling over him like a shroud. He didn't try to stop. He simply watched her go, the hope of their paths crossing again a fragile ember in the darkness.