The cathedral-like laboratory hummed with a new, aggressive life. The low, subsonic thrum that had permeated the island sharpened into a piercing whine as crystalline consoles glowed with angry crimson light. Alien glyphs scrawled across interfaces, flashing in frantic, unintelligible patterns.
Perona floated near the ceiling, her hands over her ears. "What is that horrible noise? It's so not cute!
Bianca was already on it, sliding under a main console panel, her hands a blur as she traced glowing conduits. "The power's surging! I'm trying to find a regulator coupling or a breaker!"
Charlie, meanwhile, had found a stray notebook lying near a dust-covered terminal. He thumbed through its brittle pages, his eyes widening. "Ms. Clark!" he called out, his voice tight with excitement. "I do believe your expertise would be most beneficial here! These notes are astounding!"
Bianca's voice was muffled from inside the console. "Like, okay! But it'll be a minute! This wiring is a mess!"
"Understood!" Charlie said, utterly captivated. "It's truly fascinating!"
Souta, Kuro, and Aurélie entered the vast room, their footsteps echoing. Souta's gaze swept over the awakening machinery. "What is truly fascinating?"
"Based on these notes," Charlie explained, holding up the book, "it appears they were researching direct methods of transportation via interdimensional portals! They were testing an alternative power source, but it appears to have been highly unstable!"
Bianca's head snapped up from the console, smudging grease on her cheek. "Like, let me see that." She walked over, and Charlie flipped to a page of complex schematics. "As you can see here," he began, pointing.
Bianca interrupted, her engineer's mind absorbing the data instantly. "Like, yeah, this is highly unstable. Why would they even think this was a good idea?"
Aurélie moved closer, her compound eyes taking in the schematics. "What power source were they using?"
"So, like, our main power is fusion," Bianca explained, "atoms splitting and fusing. But this? This is quantum-level stuff. We've been experimenting with it, but not like this. Their methods are way more aggressive. Look at this calculation—it's totally wrong! They didn't factor in the current variant!"
Perona blinked, holding her head. "What are you saying? I can't understand any of you!"
"Can you find what you need?" Aurélie asked, cutting through the technical jargon.
Bianca snapped the notebook closed and handed it back to Charlie, who eagerly stuffed it into his overflowing satchel and began scanning for other items of interest. "Like, yeah, I think I can make it work. The components are here; they're just configured for this crazy power grid."
Kuro adjusted his spectacles. "How much time do you require?"
Bianca returned to the console. "Like, a few hours? Then I gotta convert this tech to work with our sub, but it's totally doable."
While the others were distracted, Ember had been wandering. She found a large, perfectly smooth button the color of a fresh cherry, set under a protective glass dome on a central console. It was the shiniest thing she'd ever seen. Her head tilted. Without a second thought, she reached out and pushed it.
A violent jolt of energy surged through the console Bianca was working under. "Seas damn it!" she yelped, scrambling out as the entire room erupted in light.
Ember squealed with delight. "Pretty lights!"
Perona zipped around in a panic. "What the hell?!"
Deafening, discordant alarms blared from unseen sources, a sound like shrieking metal. Kuro groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Insufferable."
"Bianca, can you turn it off?" Aurélie yelled over the din.
"Like, I don't know!" Bianca yelled back, her hands flying over the console she'd just been shocked by.
Charlie ran to her side, pointing at the center of the sunken floor. "Ms. Clark! Something is happening!"
The ground began to quake, a deep, grinding vibration that felt like the island itself was waking up.
Kuro's voice was grim. "It appears the primary power has been restored."
"That's not—" Bianca paused, her eyes wide with dawning horror. "Charlie! That schematic! Now!"
Charlie fumbled the notebook out of his satchel. Bianca snatched it, her eyes scanning the page frantically as the room shook. She cursed, a raw, frightened sound. Ember, oblivious, skipped and clapped around the convulsing lab.
"So like, their main power source was unstable, but—" Bianca started.
"But what?" Souta asked, his usual calm beginning to crack.
"But it was self-replenishing!" Charlie finished for her, his face pale. "It would recharge on its own!"
Kuro yelled over the escalating alarm. "What does that mean?!"
Bianca turned and pointed a trembling finger at the center of the room. A massive, intricate pentagram, glowing the same violent red as the alarms, had burned itself into the dark stone floor. The air above it didn't just shimmer; it tore. With a sound like ripping canvas, a jagged scar split reality open.
Through the tear, locations flickered like a bad transmission: a storm-wracked sea, a desert of blue sand, a city of crystalline spires, a void of swirling stars. The portal was unstable, skipping through dimensions every second.
"Okay, so let's turn it off!" Souta said, his ink wolves forming at his sides.
"Like, yeah!" Bianca rushed back to the main console, turning dials and slamming buttons. "Charlie, help me! I need to bypass the primary ignition sequence!"
Aurélie saw the panic on her face. "What is the problem?"
"It's overloading!" Bianca shouted, her voice straining. "I need to lock it onto a single location to stabilize the feedback loop, but if I do that, then—"
"—it will be opening a door we may not be able to close," Charlie finished, his voice hollow.
The ground heaved again, a violent lurch that sent them all stumbling. Kuro, Souta, and Aurélie fought for balance on the shifting floor.
"What is the alternative?!" Kuro demanded.
Perona screamed, phasing through a collapsing console. "Just stop it! Stop whatever you're doing!"
The air itself began to warp, stretching and compressing around them. Aurélie's voice seemed to drag and distort. "Bianca! Pick a door! We will deal with what comes until you can close it!"
Bianca nodded, her face set with determination. "Here we go!" With a final, desperate slam of her fist on a large, central crystal, the chaotic skipping stopped. The world snapped back into focus with a jarring thud that knocked everyone to their knees.
The screaming alarm cut out. In its place was an eerie, electric silence, broken only by the deep, steady hum of the now-stable portal. The red scar in the center of the room was no longer flickering. It showed a single, horrifying vista: a landscape of jagged, obsidian rock under a sickly green sky.
"Like, I don't know how long it'll take me to close this!" Bianca warned, already pulling panels off the console again.
"Just start working," Aurélie ordered, rising to her feet and drawing Anathema.
A shape moved in the portal's opening. A giant, chitinous head, insectoid and horrifying, with multifaceted eyes that reflected the lab's red light, peered through. It had the general shape of a man, but twisted and alien.
Bianca screeched, jumping back from the console.
Perona floated higher. "What is that? That is not cute at all!"
The creature let out a buzzing, clicking sound and took a step through the portal. It was followed by another, and another—a swarm of nightmarish humanoid insects of varying, grotesque shapes and sizes, their limbs clicking on the polished stone.
Charlie, ever the academic, took a hesitant step forward, holding up a hand. "Ahem! We come in peace! We are explorers from—"
The lead creature's mandibles clicked. It lunged, a bladed limb scything toward Charlie's neck.
There was a blur of silver and a clean shing. Aurélie stood between them, Anathema already back in its sheath. The creature's head tumbled from its shoulders, spraying viscous green fluid across the ancient consoles.
"Get working!" Aurélie yelled at Bianca, not turning around.
The swarm surged forward.
Just then, a new presence filled the doorway to the lab. Dracule Mihawk stood there, Yoru resting on his shoulder. He took in the scene of the open portal and the advancing horde with a bored expression.
"It seems you've made a mess," he observed, his voice a dry rumble that cut through the buzzing chaos.
Then he moved. It was less a movement and more an event. Yoru swung in a wide, casual arc. A wave of pure, cutting force—a flying slash of unimaginable power—ripped through the air. It didn't just cut through the first rank of insectoids; it vaporized them, painting the far wall in a single, sweeping stroke of gore.
Everyone froze for a split second, stunned by the casual display of power.
Then everything went sideways.
Ember, who had been watching the fighting with gleeful excitement, decided to join in. "My turn! Bigger boom!" she cackled, firing a Sparkler Round from her Helltide slingshot not at the bugs, but at the laboratory's outer wall.
KA-BOOM!
The ancient stone, already stressed by the dimensional energies, blew outward in a shower of debris. The hole wasn't just an exit; it was a new front. The insectoid swarm, now with a direct path to the rest of Kuraigana, poured out of the lab and into the open air, their chittering cries echoing across the haunted island. The contained problem had just become an invasion.
*****
The heavy oak door to the medical chamber groaned open, cutting through the room's focused silence. Inside, the air was thick with the sharp, clean scent of antiseptic solutions and the earthier aroma of crushed medicinal herbs. A fire crackled warmly in the hearth, its light glinting off rows of glass beakers and polished steel instruments. Atlas lay still on the central bed, his breathing deeper and more regular now, a complex arrangement of IV tubes connecting him to several bags of swirling, colorful fluids.
Natalie was at a side table, her brow furrowed in concentration as she ground dried leaves into a fine powder with a mortar and pestle, the rhythmic scraping a soft counterpoint to the fire's pop and hiss. Dr. Kureha was perched on a stool beside Atlas, her movements swift and assured as she injected a vial of vibrant green liquid into his IV line.
Neither looked up as the door opened, assuming it was one of their own returning.
Riggs shuffled in, looking remarkably unconcerned. He leaned against the doorframe, surveying the scene with a bored expression. "Hey."
Natalie glanced up, her eyes flicking from him to the empty space behind him. "Riggs? Where is everyone else?"
He shrugged, a masterful display of nonchalance. "Dunno. Got separated from the group while they were exploring the secret passageway. Decided to just come back. It was getting kinda boring."
The scraping of the pestle stopped. Natalie's head lifted slowly. But it was Dr. Kureha who reacted first.
The elderly doctor's head snapped up from her work. The syringe in her hand froze mid-air. Her sharp, intelligent eyes, usually crinkled with amusement or irritation, were now wide and utterly focused on Riggs.
"What did you just say, boy?" Her voice was a low, rasping demand that seemed to suck all the sound from the room.
Natalie dropped the pestle into the mortar with a loud clack and pressed her fingers to her temples, taking a deep, audible breath. "Riggs," she said, her voice strained with the effort of maintaining patience. "All you had to do was keep an eye on Marya. That was it. One job."
Riggs just shrugged again, shoving his hands into his pockets. "She'll be back. It's not like she's going anywhere."
"No, Riggs," Natalie snapped, her composure cracking. She gestured wildly toward the door. "She is going somewhere! That is the whole point! She's a fugitive with a stolen submarine who's made enemies of the World Government and a Warlord! She is the very definition of 'going somewhere'!"
Instead of being chastised, Dr. Kureha let out a dry, cackling laugh that seemed to surprise even her. She pointed the syringe at Riggs, a wicked grin spreading across her wrinkled face. "Boy," she said, her voice full of newfound glee. "When we finish up here, you're showing us where this secret passage is."
Riggs blinked, processing this new directive. He nodded, utterly nonplussed. "Okay." Then, as if it were the most natural follow-up question in the world, he added, "You got anything to eat? I'm starving."
He looked around the room as if expecting a sideboard of roast meat to materialize amongst the surgical tools and jars of pickled specimens, completely oblivious to the monumental revelation he'd just casually dropped into their laps and the two very different kinds of exasperation he'd provoked.
A few hours later, the rhythmic scraping of Natalie's mortar and pestle finally stilled. The immediate crisis with Atlas had passed, leaving behind the quiet, focused atmosphere of recovery. Dr. Kureha capped a final vial of antidote and stretched her back with a series of audible pops.
"Right," the elderly doctor announced, her sharp eyes finding Riggs where he was now attempting to balance a spoon on his nose in the corner. "Boy. Stop that. Now show us this passageway."
Riggs let the spoon clatter to the floor, a look of pure boredom on his face. He nodded, pushing himself upright. "Okay." He led the way out of the medical chamber, a half-eaten sandwich of questionable origin clutched in one hand, a chunk of it stuffed in his mouth.
They were just rounding a corner in the castle's main hallway when a familiar sound echoed toward them—gleeful giggles and enthusiastic bloops. A blur of patchwork parka and wobbling blue gelatin came bounding around the far corner, engaged in their relentless game of tag. Chessa and Jelly zipped past Dr. Kureha and Natalie without a second glance.
They were followed by a much more solemn procession. Dalton walked with his head bowed, his broad shoulders set with a new, heavy weight. Vista and Haruta flanked him, their expressions thoughtful and subdued rather than aggressively focused. Marya and Galit brought up the rear, their postures alert but weary.
Riggs chewed his sandwich loudly, then cut his eyes at Natalie. He spoke around the mouthful of bread and meat, his words muffled but perfectly understandable. "Told you she'd be back." With that profound statement delivered, he turned on his heel and ambled back in the direction of the kitchen, his mission as a guide apparently complete.
Dr. Kureha ignored the retreating swordsman, her gaze laser-focused on her king. "Dalton," she said, her raspy voice cutting through the hallway's silence. "Where have you all been?"
Dalton looked up, and the look in his eyes was one Kureha had never seen before—a deep, almost mournful contemplation mixed with a spark of fierce resolve. "Dr. Kureha," he said, his voice low and grave. "We need to talk."
Natalie, her curiosity piqued, fell into step behind the others as they filed back into the medical chamber. The room felt different now; the air of frantic urgency had been replaced by a weary, shared exhaustion.
Marya went straight to Atlas's bedside. She stood over him, her golden eyes scanning his face, his chest, the steady drip of the IV. Her expression was unreadable.
Galit peered over her shoulder. "His breathing appears to have improved," he noted quietly.
Marya gave a single, slow nod of agreement.
Natalie moved to the other side of the bed, checking the chart she'd left there. "His fever is broken," she confirmed, her professional tone unable to hide her relief. "And his vitals are steady. He's recovering. The antidote is working."
"That is good," Marya said, her voice flat. She then turned from the bed and walked to a dim corner of the room, away from the firelight and the others. She slid down the stone wall to sit on the floor, pulled the massive hilt of Eternal Eclipse into her lap, and rested her head against it as if it were a pillow.
Natalie stared at her, baffled. "What are you doing?"
"Taking a nap," Marya announced, closing her eyes.
Natalie blinked, looking over her shoulder at Vista and Haruta for some sort of explanation. The two Whitebeard commanders simply exchanged a tired glance. Vista gave a slight shrug.
"What about…?" Natalie began, gesturing vaguely at the obvious, unresolved conflict hanging in the air between them all.
Marya didn't even open her eyes. "We will fight it out later," she stated, as if scheduling a minor appointment. "Right now, sleep."
To Natalie's utter astonishment, Haruta and Vista seemed to find this logic perfectly sound. Haruta leaned his shoulder against a heavy wooden cabinet, crossing his arms and letting his head droop. Vista found a sturdy-looking stool and sat down, his hands resting on his knees, his eyes closing.
Galit gave a quiet nod. "I am going to the kitchen," he announced, and slipped out the door.
Natalie was left standing in the middle of the room, her hands on her hips, looking from the napping fugitive to the dozing pirates to her contemplative king and the chuckling old doctor. A slow, incredulous smile spread across her face. She shook her head, the tension draining from her own shoulders.
"Well," she whispered to herself, the word a soft sigh in the quiet room. "Okay then." The immediate battle was over, replaced by a temporary, exhausted truce enforced by the simple, universal need for rest.