The world was coming apart at the seams. Every explosion from Ember's rampage, every shattering impact from the ancient automata, sent shockwaves through the bedrock of Tequila Wolf. High above, on the rain-lashed surface, the unimaginable happened: the bridge itself began to fracture. A deep, groaning roar, like a continent in agony, drowned out the screams of slaves and Marines alike. The stone beneath their feet, worn smooth by centuries of misery, suddenly yawned open into gaping chasms. People vanished into the cracks, their cries cut short by the thunder of collapsing masonry and the violent crash of entire sections of the bridge plunging into the churning sea below. It was a slow-motion avalanche of stone and suffering.
Bianca chased the flicker of pink hair through shaking corridors that rained dust and debris. She skidded into a cavern where the wall had sheared away completely, opening to a dizzying view of the stormy sky and the furious ocean hundreds of feet below. Ember stood at the jagged edge, her back to the drop, the wind whipping her hair.
"Ember! Stop!" Bianca yelled, her voice raw.
Ember looked over her shoulder, a wide, unnerving grin splitting her face. It was the look of a child about to jump into a pile of leaves, not a fatal drop. Bianca's blood ran cold. She lunged forward, hand outstretched. "NO!"
But she was too late. With a gleeful, wordless shout, Ember tipped backwards into the open air, vanishing from view. Bianca screamed, scrambling to the edge in time to see the small form hit the dark water with a distant splash.
"EMBER!" The cry was torn from her. She waited, heart hammering against her ribs, for the girl to surface. A second passed. Two. And then the horrifying realization struck her like a physical blow: Devil Fruit user. She can't swim.
"Seas damn it all!" Bianca snarled, the curse a promise of violence. Behind her, the roar of collapsing tunnels and rushing water grew deafeningly close. There was no time to think, only to act. Gritting her teeth, ignoring the terrifying height, Bianca Clark took a running leap off the edge of the world.
The fall was a terrifying blur of sky and spray. She hit the water hard, the cold knocking the air from her lungs. She surfaced, gasping, treading water amidst a nightmare panorama. Splintered wood, shattered chains, and limp bodies bobbed in the churning waves. The air was thick with screams and the endless, grinding thunder of the dying bridge. Sucking in a deep breath, Bianca dove, kicking hard into the dark, cold depths, her eyes straining for any sign of pink hair or a tattered black dress.
Meanwhile, Aurélie's group burst from a fissure in the cliff face into a hidden cove. The Revolutionary ship was already making sail, its crew shouting frantic warnings. "Navy spotted on the horizon! We need to move, now!"
Kuro's eyes swept the small beach. His own sleek Syndicate vessel was a wreck, crushed beneath a massive slab of bridge that had calved off like a glacier. He cursed, a low, venomous sound.
Charlie pointed a trembling, chalk-dusted finger. "Aurélie! Our sub!" He gestured to a sleek, teardrop-shaped craft moored in the relative shelter of the cove, bobbing violently in the water choked with debris.
Aurélie didn't hesitate. "We go!"
Sabo and Koala, already heading for their ship, saw the movement. "Nakano! Wooley! This way!" Sabo yelled over the din.
Aurélie paused for only a second, meeting Sabo's gaze. "Thank you for the information. But our path lies elsewhere." Her voice was formal, a blade of courtesy in the chaos. "Perhaps our paths will cross again."
Sabo and Koala exchanged a look, then gave simultaneous, grim nods. "Good luck to you!" Koala called.
Kuro and Souta shared a silent, calculating glance. Their ship was gone. Their target, Marya, was heading to Sabaody. The Consortium's advanced submarine was the only viable escape and the best means of pursuit. The decision was made in an instant. They broke into a run, following Aurélie and Charlie toward the sub.
Aurélie glanced back, a question in her steel-gray eyes. Kuro reached the water's edge as a piece of mast the size of a tree trunk slammed down nearby. "Our objective has not changed," he stated, his voice cutting through the bedlam, "merely our means of transportation." It was a lie wrapped in perfect, logical truth. Aurélie wanted to argue, to question, but the sky was literally falling. There was no time.
With a fluid motion, Aurélie's back shimmered. Two powerful, iridescent locust wings sprouted, buzzing once. She grabbed a startled Charlie under his arms and launched into a short, swift flight, landing neatly on the sub's curved deck. Kuro focused, his fist sheathing in the invisible, hardening energy of Armament Haki, and punched a falling timber aside, then leaped for the sub. Souta's arm tattoos shifted, liquid shadow flowing into the form of a sleek ink-hawk that carried him on its back across the short stretch of water.
They filed through the hatch, Aurélie sliding into the pilot's seat. The interior was a marvel of polished brass, glowing dials, and plush upholstery—a stark contrast to the hell outside.
"Strap in," Aurélie commanded, her hands flying over the controls.
Kuro looked around the sophisticated cabin, genuine shock breaking through his usual mask of bored arrogance. "Remarkable..."
Souta simply murmured, "I have never seen its like."
Charlie, dripping wet, opened his mouth, no doubt to launch into a lecture on submersible hydrodynamic principles. "Ahem! The ballast tanks utilize a revolutionary—"
"Secure yourselves. Now," Aurélie interrupted, her tone leaving no room for debate. "We dive."
The engines hummed to life. The sub lurched forward, weaving through a deadly rain of falling debris. Aurélie guided it with a cool intensity, diving beneath the surface just as a colossal piece of masonry smashed into the water where they'd been.
But as they descended, the water around them changed. The familiar cold brine of the Florian Triangle turned sharp and acrid, stinging the viewports like a weak acid. The groans of the collapsing bridge were joined by a new sound from the abyssal depths below—a deep, resonant vibration that felt like the planet itself clearing its throat.
And then they saw it. As the sub's lights pierced the gloom, they illuminated the unimaginable. Through the clouds of settling silt and the tangled ruins of the bridge's foundation, something stirred in the deep rift Ember's chaos had torn open. A vast, curved surface, draped in forests of ancient, glowing seaweed, shifted. And within that forest, a single, massive eye—easily the size of a warship—slowly opened. It was an eye of impossible age and bottomless malice, its pupil a vertical slit of void black.
From the darkness below, thick, ropy tendrils, like the roots of a world-tree made of nightmares, surged upward. One lashed out, wrapping around the hull of the Revolutionary ship with a sound like grinding stone, halting its flight. Another, just as swift, shot toward their diving submarine, seeking to crush it and drag it down into the lightless deep where the ancient horror waited.
*****
The path Shirahoshi took led them deep beneath the palace foundations, into a realm of cold, silent stone that felt millennia removed from the vibrant life above. They approached a massive, circular door set into the living rock of the seabed. It was forged from a single, seamless slab of black Seastone, its surface etched with spiraling glyphs that told the story of Kulakana's binding. The air here was dead still and carried a dry, electric tang, like the smell of a storm long past. Before it stood a full contingent of the Royal Guard, their armor gleaming dully in the light of solitary, pulsing lichen that grew in patches on the walls. Their expressions were grim, their postures rigid with the weight of their duty.
Shirahoshi's forward momentum faltered. Her large eyes darted between the stern-faced guards and the imposing door, her newfound courage wavering. "Maybe… maybe this was a bad idea," she whispered, her voice trembling.
"Keep moving," Marya's voice was a low, steady command from her perch in the princess's hands. "It will be alright."
"You… you aren't going to hurt them, are you?" Shirahoshi asked, her voice small with worry.
"No," Marya replied, her golden eyes already scanning the guards, assessing their will. "They're just going to take a little nap."
As the guards stepped forward to intercept, their leader opening his mouth to demand they halt, Marya's eyes narrowed. A wave of invisible force erupted from her, not a shout, but a silent, crushing pressure that rolled through the water. It was Conqueror's Haki, refined and focused. The guards' eyes rolled back into their heads in unison, and they slumped to the cavern floor, their weapons clattering softly against the stone.
Shirahoshi gasped. "Are you sure they're okay?"
"They may have a headache when they wake," Marya said, her tone matter-of-fact. "Nothing more."
Nodding nervously, Shirahoshi swam to the colossal door. She placed her palm flat against the cold Seastone. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the ancient glyphs around her hand began to glow with a soft, blue-white light, recognizing the royal bloodline. With a deep, grinding rumble that vibrated through their bones, the massive door slid sideways into the wall, revealing a yawning darkness beyond.
They entered the Oceanus Vault. The door sealed behind them, and the world changed. The corridor they stood in was hewn from a strange, blue-veined rock that hummed with a low, constant energy. The air was even drier here, smelling of ancient energy and hot stone. The only light came from the walls themselves, where the veins pulsed with a rhythmic, slow beat, like a sleeping giant's heart.
They followed the humming corridor until it opened into a cavern so vast its ceiling was lost in shadow. And there it was.
The Heart of the Sea Devourer was not merely a crystal on a pedestal. It was a colossal, intricate machine built into the very wall of the cavern. A central crystal, larger than a giant, throbbed with a fierce blue-white light. Around it, eight smaller crystals orbited in a complex, silent dance, connected by thick conduits of polished, coppery metal and bundles of crystalline fibers that shimmered with internal currents. The entire structure oscillated, a deep, resonant thrum passing through it in waves you could feel in your teeth. Power, raw and ancient, moved through it like blood through arteries.
Marya's eyes widened, not with wonder, but with sharp recognition. "Ancient tech," she mumbled, her voice hushed by the cavern's immensity. "Like the roots of Elbaph's great tree. Like the mechanisms deep within Zou." It was a technology predating the current world, a lost art of harnessing natural energy.
"Isn't it beautiful?" Shirahoshi beamed, her fear forgotten in the face of her island's greatest treasure.
Marya didn't answer. Her gaze was already scouring the chamber, looking for clues, for context. Her eyes traveled up the massive wall, over the pulsing machinery, and stopped. High above, mostly hidden in the gloom, was a mural painted directly onto the rock. It was faded, its colors muted by incalculable age, but its imagery was clear.
"Shirahoshi," Marya said, pointing. "What is that?"
The princess followed her gaze, squinting. "Oh," she said, surprised. "I've never noticed that before."
It depicted a night sky, but unlike any seen from the sea. Seven moons of different sizes hung in the belly of a colossal Sea King that was coiled protectively around a vibrant blue planet. The artistry was breathtaking, the perspective dizzying.
"It looks like… an angel?" Shirahoshi asked, pointing to a small, winged figure hovering near one of the moons.
"No," Marya said, her voice tight. "The wings are wrong. The stance… it looks more like a Lunarian." She had seen their likeness in the oldest, most encrypted folios of the Consortium.
"How can you tell?"
"The flame," Marya replied, her mind racing, connecting disparate pieces of lore. "See the halo of fire around its head? I've seen other murals, in places no one was meant to find, that show them like this."
"Wow," Shirahoshi breathed. "You know so much. But… why would that be down here?"
Marya cocked her head, the puzzle consuming her. "I'm not sure. But there seems to be a connection. Elbaph, Zou, the Red Line… and now this. All these places, all this ancient power, it's all linked." The revelation was staggering, but it was a mystery for another time. Her focus snapped back to the throbbing Heart.
The central crystal was a mountain; taking it was impossible. But one of the smaller, orbiting crystals… it was the size of a large suitcase, massive but perhaps manageable. It pulsed with the same energy, a smaller piece of the whole. A sufficient piece.
A heavy sigh escaped her. She looked at Shirahoshi, who was still gazing in wonder at the mural. "Princess," Marya began, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "I wish we could have met under different circumstances."
Shirahoshi turned, her expression sweetly confused. "What do you mean?"
"I am truly sorry for what I am about to do," Marya said, genuine regret flickering in her golden eyes before being extinguished by resolve. "But I fear if I do not act, I will lose this opportunity forever."
"What are you talking about—?" But Marya was already gone.
She dissolved into a swirl of grey mist, reforming an instant later on the crystal wall itself, her boots finding purchase on a coppery conduit. Before Shirahoshi could even cry out, Marya's hands, sheathed in a crackling black aura of Armament Haki, gripped one of the orbiting crystals. With a grunt of effort and a sound like shattering diamond, she wrenched it free from its housing.
The chamber plunged into violent darkness.
Shirahoshi squealed in fear. For a terrifying second, there was only silence and the Princess's panicked breathing. Then, the remaining crystals flickered erratically. They oscillated wildly, out of sync, and with a deafening CRACK, unleashed a blinding flash of actinic light. A massive tremor ripped through the vault, throwing Shirahoshi from her upright position and shaking dust and chunks of rock from the ceiling.
The princess looked up through the chaos, tears welling in her eyes, and saw Marya standing on the wall, the stolen crystal held under her arm, its light guttering like a dying star.
"What are you?" Shirahoshi wept, her voice a broken whisper.
Marya's brow was furrowed, not in triumph, but in grim necessity. The ceiling groaned ominously. "Right. Can't stay here!" She leaped from the wall, transforming into mist mid-air and enveloping the terrified princess. Together, they streamed back down the humming corridor just as another, more powerful shockwave exploded from the heart chamber behind them.
The tremor radiated outwards. Up in the throne room, the elegant seaglass windows rattled in their frames. The light crystals flickered and died for a heart-stopping second. King Neptune surged up as the entire palace shuddered.
"My word," Jinbe breathed, his usual calm shattered. "What could—"
A guard burst into the room, his face ashen. "Sire! It's the Oceanus Vault! The Heart… it's been damaged!"
"Damaged?" Neptune roared, his voice filled with a king's dread. "How?"
The guard's gaze flickered to Jinbe, then back to the king. "The surveillance Den Den Mushi… it looked like the princess and her companion."
Jinbe jumped to his feet. "No! It cannot be!"
Fukaboshi looked to his brothers, his face a mask of royal duty. "We will—"
"No," Jinbe interrupted, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "Go. Tend to the people. Calm the panic. I will deal with Marya." He looked to King Neptune, who gave a single, grave nod.
"Jinbe," the king said, the weight of the world in his voice. "I know I don't have to tell you…"
"Don't worry, Sire," Jinbe said, his expression hardening into something unyielding. "I already know."
Far above, in the world of light and air, a hairline crack, deep and ominous, began to spider its way up the base of the Red Line.
Jinbe was waiting at the vault's entrance when a stream of mist solidified into Marya and a sobbing, trembling Shirahoshi. The princess took one look at Jinbe's stern, disappointed face and broke down. "I didn't know! I didn't know!"
"I know, Princess," Jinbe said, his voice gentle but his eyes fixed on Marya, on the large, softly glowing crystal held under her arm. His gaze hardened. "Why, Marya?" he asked, his voice echoing in the stone corridor. "You know what this will do. What reason could you possibly have that justifies this?"
Marya met his gaze, her own expression one of weary resolve. "The answer is too long and too complicated. And I am very, very short on time."
Jinbe adjusted his stance, settling into the flowing readiness of Fishman Karate mastery. "You know I cannot just let you leave."
A faint, tired smirk touched Marya's lips. "I never expected you would."
Their brief exchange was a whirlwind of motion and force. Jinbe moved with the power of the ocean itself, his palms striking to send shockwaves through the water. Marya was a phantom, her body sheathed in black Haki, Eclipse still on her back, mist curling around her legs as she flowed away from his blows. She wasn't fighting to win, but to create an opening. A well-timed mist-form dodge, a flicker of Conqueror's Haki to make him flinch for a half-second, and she was past him.
She didn't look back. Dissolving into a faster, more desperate mist, she raced through the trembling streets, the stolen heart of an ancient god burning under her arm, the sounds of a kingdom beginning to panic echoing around her. She had what she came for. The cost, she would have to reckon with later.