A pale dawn rolled over O'Hara, but no birds sang. Children fetching water froze as ten dark specks grew larger on the horizon. Villagers shielded eyes. Waves pounded in nervous rhythm. In the library's upper window, Ash felt Skeyth tremble like iron in winter.
The Codex flashed a blunt warning:
Buster Call Fleet in visual range.
ETA to bombardment: < 2 hrs.
Professor Clover, voice tight but steady, gathered townsfolk in the plaza beneath the Tree of Knowledge. "Remain calm," he urged. "Scholars will present peacefully." He held Marineford's unopened reply—no stamp, no words, only silence.
Ash stood beside Robin, heart hammering. He whispered, "Get your pack. When I say run, run for tunnel C." Robin bit her lip, nodded.
Aboard the flagship Raven, Vice Admiral Kuzan peered through a spyglass. The Tree rose like a green lighthouse. He sighed. "Beautiful place to die." Orders pressed heavy in his coat. He glanced at Saul on the hauler Atlas. The giant watched the island with sorrow.
Akainu's voice crackled over den-den: "All ships prepare main batteries."
Kuzan answered, "Aye," but ice mist curled from his fingers.
When the island bell tolled nine, the first artillery roared. Shells screamed overhead, smashing empty fields to send dirt geysers skyward. Panic snapped like dry twigs. Mothers herded children; shopkeepers bolted doors.
Robin clutched Ash's hand. "They're really firing."
"Go!" he shouted. She sprinted for the archive wing. Ash dashed for the main hall.
Clover stepped onto the front steps, white flag high. Shells kept falling. A blast tore the herbal garden, showering him with earth. He staggered yet held the flag. Around him scholars tried forming a line, scrolls raised like shields. Futile bravery painted the air.
Sakazuki rode the bow of a gunboat. Lava crackled off his fist, hissing into seawater. Marines bristling with rifles followed. "Advance. No survivors among resisters," he barked. Fear of him pushed them harder than cannon smoke.
Robin reached the archive basement. Books shook in falling dust. She found the trapdoor, lifted it, and crawled into the narrow tunnel lined with painted stones. Behind her, muffled explosions grew louder.
Ash raced between burning hedges. A lone marine rounded a corner, rifle raised. Instinct jerked Skeyth to his hand. One swipe—too fast to think—opened the man's throat. Blood spattered roses.
Ash froze, breath ragged. The marine dropped, eyes wide. Heat, guilt, and cold purpose crashed together inside him. Skeyth whispered: "First harvest. Steel your root."
Ash swallowed bile, wiped the blade. "For Robin," he whispered, and ran on.
On the beach, Saul blocked Kuzan's path. "Kuzan! This is madness. They're civilians."
Ice coated Kuzan's shoulders. "Orders, Saul. Step aside."
Saul planted his giant axe. "I can't."
Kuzan's eyes darkened. "I expected that." He thrust a palm. Ice spread over Saul's legs, creeping fast. Saul swung, breaking some, but Kuzan stepped in, palms glowing blue. In moments, the giant froze solid, mouth mid-laugh.
Kuzan whispered, "Sleep. I'll handle the rest."
Marines gasped. Kuzan barked, "He's traitor now. Chain the statue—send to Impel Down after."
Shells struck the Tree's roots. Fire leapt up ancient bark. Clover stood beneath falling leaves turned cinders. Akainu strode forward, magma dripping.
"Where are the weapons?" Akainu growled.
Clover spread empty hands. "We kept only words."
Akainu's fist punched the ground; magma geysered. Flames roared. Clover fell among his books, eyes reflecting burning pages.
Tunnel C exited near a stone jetty. Marines blocked the way. Robin hugged the wall, panic rising. Footsteps crunched gravel—Kuzan appeared.
Marines saluted. "Orders, sir?"
Kuzan stared at Robin—little girl he'd glimpsed days ago. Memories of Saul's plea iced his veins. He sighed. "She's no threat." He raised a hand. Marines stepped back.
He touched the ground. Ice spread in a ring, forming a protective dome over Robin. "Stay still. This will keep bullets out." He met her eyes. "I'm sorry." She nodded, tears freezing on lashes.
He turned, cape billowing, and strode toward gunfire.
Ash reached the plaza. Marines torched book carts. Two rushed him. Twin blades flashed—anger guiding blows. One fell, the other's musket barrel split. A third marine swung a cutlass; Ash ducked, hamstrung him.
Blood slicked stones. Ash moved like a pale streak, clothes spotted red. Scholars gasped, some fleeing, some cheering. Akainu noticed the blur.
Ash skidded to face the magma admiral at library steps. Lava cracked skin on Akainu's arm. Heat stung Ash's eyes.
Akainu sneered. "A child with a toy scythe."
Skeyth vibrated: "Predator."
Ash raised the staff. "Leave my island."
Akainu laughed, fist glowing lava-red. "Island's already dead." He punched; magma fist flew. Ash dodged, but heat singed his cloak.
Fear, rage, and grief detonated inside Ash. A pulse shook the air—silent yet thunderous. Marines hundreds of feet away collapsed, eyes rolling white. Skeyth's aura erupted, but another force overlapped—his own will.
Whirlwind tore burning leaves into a spiral. Akainu's eyes widened. "Conqueror's—" he snarled, bracing.
Ash staggered, dizzy. Power ebbed as fast as it burst. Skeyth steadied him. "Root anchors. Storm passes."
Akainu growled, stepped forward. "One flare won't save you."
Ash darted back, mind racing. He couldn't match the admiral—yet his goal shifted: draw Akainu away from Robin's dome.
He spun and sprinted toward the burning east wing. Akainu followed, lava splashing. Every step ash trees crumbled.
Ash vaulted broken shelves, praying Robin remained safe under Kuzan's ice. Behind, magma hissed louder.
Flames devoured the Tree. Shells still rained. Ash tumbled down a smoking corridor, Skeyth ready, as Akainu's silhouette filled the entrance—lava dripping like molten fate.
"Running ends here," the admiral said.
Ash lifted the scythe, red eyes fierce. "So does senseless slaughter."
Outside, the library's great bell melted under falling embers, tolling one final note.