The mountain slope had become a war zone of shattered stone and scattered feathers. Marines who had wandered too close now lay groaning behind boulders, their white coats stained with dirt and something worse—the creeping numbness that came from a stonefish's touch.
Sanza Kaplan Figarland did not care about any of that.
The eight-year-old sat perched on a broken pillar of rock, his small legs dangling over the edge, his red hair a wild mess of mod-style rebellion. He wore cargo shorts and a garish graphic t-shirt depicting an armored warrior from some ancient children's entertainment franchise. His sandals had come loose during the climb, and he had not bothered to fix them.
"Vile woman," he muttered, watching Marina Kick spin a soccer ball on her fingertip. "She has the aesthetic sensibilities of a barnacle."
Jelly Squish wobbled beside him, his translucent blue body rippling with each breath. The little jellyfish-humanoid's starry eyes were wide with excitement, his permanent toothy grin stretched even wider.
"Bloop! She looks strong, Sanza! Can we play with her? Can we? CAN WE?"
Sanza sighed, the sound carrying the weight of an old soul trapped in a child's body. "We are not here to play, gelatinous aberration. We are here to observe. And perhaps... to demonstrate superiority."
Akako Zinnia bounced on her heels, her red pigtails flopping with each hop. Heartbreaker, her massive hammer, rested against her shoulder. The red and black mallet head was almost as big as she was.
"Oh, oh, oh!" She clapped her hands. "I wanna hit something! Cap-cap said I could break stuff! He said it with his eyes! I saw it!"
Sanza pinched the bridge of his nose. "He did not say that. He looked at you with his usual expression of resigned exhaustion. There is a difference."
---
Marina Kick had run out of patience.
Her dark hazel eyes tracked the three figures on the rock outcropping—a child who looked like a spoiled noble, a wobbling blue blob, and a tiny girl with a hammer that should have been impossible for her to lift. The Rear Admiral cracked her neck and pulled a soccer ball from her weathered duffel bag.
"Alright, Marines," she called to the scattered soldiers behind her. "Formation Delta. I'll take point. You cover the flanks."
The men hesitated. They had seen what happened to the last squad that tried to engage these three.
Marina did not wait for their response.
She kicked.
The ball shot forward—a Penalty Shot Execution wrapped in Haki, invisible armor coating the leather. It screamed toward Sanza's head.
Akako giggled.
Heartbreaker swung.
The massive mallet connected with the ball, and the impact sent a shockwave rippling outward. The ground cracked. Dust exploded. The soccer ball rocketed back toward Marina, spinning wild.
Marina caught it with her shin, absorbing the force with a grunt. Her cleats dug furrows into the stone.
"Not bad, little girl," she said, grinning. "But that was a warm-up. I haven't even started my pre-game stretches."
Akako twirled her hammer. "I'm not little! I'm fun-sized! And you're boring-sized! All legs and no personality!"
Marina's eye twitched. "We'll see who's boring after I score a hat trick on your skull."
She kicked again. Three balls this time—she had palmed them from her bag mid-spin. They flew in separate arcs, curving around the rock outcropping, converging on Akako from three angles.
Akako spun.
Heartbreaker became a blur of red and black. She knocked one ball into a tree, sent another spinning into the sky, and batted the third straight into the ground. The impact cracked the stone, and a shockwave rippled through the earth, knocking Marines off their feet.
"WHEEE!" Akako shrieked. "This is fun!"
Marina's grin tightened. "Fun? I'll show you fun."
She reached into her bag and pulled out four more balls.
---
Petra Ven watched from the shadows of a fallen boulder.
Her craggy grey skin blended with the stone, her dorsal spines lying flat against her spine. The oversized olive-green sweater hung loose on her wiry frame, hiding the venom glands along her back. Her dark, heavy-lidded eyes tracked Jelly Squish with growing irritation.
The little blue creature had not noticed her.
He was bouncing. Just... bouncing. Up and down. Up and down. His gelatinous body squished against the rock with each landing, leaving sticky, glittery trails.
"Bloop! Bloop! Bloop!" He was humming.
Petra's fingers twitched. She hated him. She hated everything about him. His cheerful ignorance. His wobbly form. The way he seemed completely unaware that he was in a war zone.
"Are you... are you bouncing?" she whispered.
Jelly's head snapped toward her. His massive starry eyes went wide.
"BLOOP! A new friend!"
Petra's spines rose involuntarily. "I am not your friend. I am your executioner."
"Aww, that's what my last bestest buddy said! Right before we played hide and seek for three hours!" Jelly bounced closer. "Do you want to play hide and seek? I'm really good at hiding! I can turn into a puddle!"
Petra's lip curled. "You are an abomination. A failed experiment. A—"
Jelly slapped her with a morphed tentacle.
Not hard. Just... a pat. A friendly, gelatinous pat on the shoulder.
Petra's venom glands compressed. Her spines injected. The neurotoxin flooded Jelly's gelatinous body.
Nothing happened.
Jelly blinked. "That tickled! Bloop!"
Petra stared. Her venom—the same venom that had paralyzed pirate captains, that had stopped hearts, that had made grown men weep—had no effect on the wobbling blue creature.
"How?" she breathed.
Jelly tilted his head. "How what? Oh! Is this a game? You poke me, I poke you?" He poked her back. His finger sank into her hybrid-form skin like pudding.
Petra recoiled. "Do not touch me."
"You're squishy too!" Jelly clapped his hands. "We're both squishy! Best friends forever!"
"I am not squishy. I am camouflaged. There is a difference." Petra's spines rattled with irritation. "You are the most annoying creature I have ever encountered."
Jelly bounced higher. "Bloop! That's the nicest thing anyone has said to me all day!"
---
Sanza's eyes wandered.
The fight between Akako and Marina had become a spectacle—soccer balls flying, hammer swinging, shockwaves cracking the earth. Jelly and Petra were locked in a strange dance of venom and bouncing. But none of that interested him.
His gaze had landed on a tree.
Not the tree itself, but the figure standing behind it. A man in a dark gray, sleeveless kimono top, his long dark hair pulled into a low ponytail. A tattered beast-skin haori hung from his shoulders. His posture was rigid, his hands clenched at his sides.
Kaburo Gusaki.
The fallen samurai's eyes were fixed on the distant fight between Aurélie Nakano Takeko and Topiaris Tidaltuff. His jaw was tight. His teeth were gritted. Around his neck, an explosive collar pulsed with a faint red glow.
Interesting, Sanza thought.
The boy hopped off the rock pillar and landed in a crouch. His small feet found purchase on the rubble.
"Jelly," he called over his shoulder. "Distract the stone woman. I have business elsewhere."
"Bloop! Okay!" Jelly bounced toward Petra with renewed enthusiasm. "Let's play another game! It's called 'I'm Going to Hug You Until You Laugh'!"
Petra's spines went rigid. "Do not come near me."
"Too late! Bloop!"
Sanza moved.
His small form slipped between boulders, ducked under a flying soccer ball, and navigated the chaos with the confidence of someone who had never considered the possibility of failure.
Marina Kick spotted him.
Her dark hazel eyes tracked the red-haired child weaving through the battlefield, heading toward the tree line. Toward the concealed figure.
"Where do you think you're going, kid?" She abandoned her assault on Akako and pivoted, a soccer ball already rising from her foot.
Akako's hammer intercepted her.
"Not so fast, Legs!" The tiny girl swung Heartbreaker in a wide arc, forcing Marina to leap backward. "You're playing with me! Remember? I'm the fun-sized one!"
Marina's jaw flexed. "I don't have time for this."
She reached into her bag and pulled out three more balls. Then three more. Then three more. Her duffel bag had always held more than it should. She had stopped questioning it years ago.
"Golden Boot Storm!"
She kicked.
Six balls launched into the air, each one curving at a different angle, each one coated in invisible Haki. They came at Akako from every direction.
Akako giggled and swung.
Heartbreaker connected with one ball, then another, then another. Shockwaves erupted with each impact, cracking the ground, sending Marines scrambling. But she could not catch them all. A ball slipped past her guard and caught her in the shoulder. She spun, stumbled, caught herself with her hammer.
"Hey! That was cheap!"
"There's no such thing as cheap in extra time," Marina replied, already reaching for more balls. "The referee isn't looking."
Akako's eyes narrowed. Then she smiled.
"Okay. New plan."
She stopped trying to hit the balls.
She hit the ground.
Heartbreaker slammed into the stone, and a shockwave rippled outward. The earth buckled. Boulders split. A fissure opened between Marina and her target, forcing the Rear Admiral to leap sideways.
Akako hit the ground again. And again. And again.
The terrain shifted. What had been a flat battlefield became a maze of broken stone and treacherous trenches. Marina's soccer balls, designed for open fields, found their trajectories disrupted by the uneven ground.
"Clever," Marina admitted, skidding to a stop. "But not clever enough."
She leaped into the air—Geppo carrying her upward—and kicked a ball down at Akako from above.
Akako swung up.
The shockwave sent Marina tumbling.
---
Sanza reached the tree line.
He stopped behind a boulder, his small white tiger body hidden from view, and peered around the edge. Kaburo Gusaki stood thirty feet away, his back against a massive oak. The samurai's hands were still clenched. His eyes still fixed on the distant fight.
The explosive collar around his neck pulsed.
Sanza studied him like a scientist examining a specimen. The man's posture spoke of defeat. His clenched fists spoke of rage. His stillness spoke of someone waiting for something.
Fascinating, Sanza thought. A predator in chains. A blade without a wielder.
He stepped out from behind the boulder.
Kaburo's head snapped toward him. The man's eyes—cold, calculating—narrowed.
"A child?" Kaburo's voice was dry, empty. "The battlefield is no place for you, boy."
Sanza's lip curled. "I am not a boy. I am Sanza Kaplan Figarland. Future Supreme Commander of the Holy Knights. And you, fallen samurai, are the most interesting thing I have seen all day."
Kaburo's hand moved toward the hilt of a weapon that was not there. Kalamaru was elsewhere, in the hands of Topiaris Tidaltuff. The realization made his jaw tighten further.
"You know my name."
"I know many things." Sanza tilted his head. "I know you fed a Devil Fruit to your own blade. I know you served Kaido. I know you are a traitor to every code you ever swore." He paused. "I also know you are not wearing that collar by choice."
Kaburo's eyes flickered. "You see much for one so young."
"I see everything." Sanza's golden-flecked pupils narrowed. "Including the fact that you are going to do something interesting soon. I want to watch."
Before Kaburo could respond, a soccer ball screamed toward Sanza's head.
Marina Kick had broken free from Akako.
The Rear Admiral's cleats dug into the stone as she launched herself toward the tree line, her face flushed with exertion. "Get away from him, kid! That's a prisoner!"
Sanza did not move.
He closed his eyes.
The tiger's paw.
Something inside him stirred. The Byakko's power, the mythical Zoan that lived in his blood, pulsed with warmth. He had never tried this before. He had not known it was possible.
But the desperation of the moment called to something deep.
Golden light erupted from his small hands.
A disk formed—flat, solid, shaped like a tiger's paw. The pads of the paw glowed with celestial energy, and the claws curved like crescent moons.
Sanza stepped onto it.
The disk held.
His eyes flew open. "Victory is mine!"
He leaped.
The disk shot upward, carrying him into the air. Another disk formed beneath his foot as the first faded, and he leaped again. Another. Another. He was not flying—not truly—but he was bounding across the sky on golden platforms that appeared and disappeared beneath his feet.
Marina watched, her soccer ball forgotten. "What the—"
Akako's hammer caught her in the ribs.
"Eyes on me, Legs! I'm the star of this show!"
Marina staggered, coughed, and grinned despite the pain. "You're a menace, you know that?"
"Aww, thank you!"
---
Sanza landed on a branch near Kaburo's tree.
The fallen samurai stared at him, his cold eyes showing something that might have been surprise. "You can create footholds from nothing."
"I can do many things." Sanza sat on the branch, his legs dangling. "I can heal. I can bind souls. I can project my consciousness across miles." He paused. "And now, I can walk on air."
He looked at Kaburo with something that might have been curiosity.
"Why are you watching her?"
Kaburo's gaze shifted back to the distant fight. Aurélie's silver hair flashed between the trees. Kalamaru's amber glow pulsed.
"That blade," Kaburo said, his voice low, "was mine."
Sanza nodded slowly. "And now it belongs to a vain man in a pressed uniform. A man who cannot control it."
"It was never meant to be controlled." Kaburo's hands tightened. "It was meant to be partnered. And he is not worthy."
Sanza smiled—a thin, dangerous smile that did not belong on a child's face.
"No. He is not."
They watched together as the battle raged below, two predators in their own cages, waiting for the moment to strike.
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