I don't remember what led to me dying. But I do remember the pain that came with it.
It started with the smoke — thick, choking, clawing down my throat like a living thing. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. The world became nothing but a searing, stinging blindness.
The heat was everywhere. It wrapped around me like chains forged in hell, tightening, biting. My skin blistered before the flames even touched it — the air itself had turned into a furnace. I remember stumbling, hands outstretched, feeling the walls peeling under my fingertips, the paint bubbling and sloughing off like melting flesh.
I tried to scream. The sound never made it past the ash clawing my lungs. It came out as a ragged gasp, swallowed immediately by the roaring around me.
The first kiss of fire was almost gentle — a brush across the back of my leg where my jeans had torn. It was hot, unbearably hot, but my mind hadn't fully caught up yet. It was when the fabric of my shirt caught — a sudden rush of white-hot agony blossoming across my back — that I truly felt it.
I slapped at it wildly, panicking, but my hands only spread it. It climbed my arms, it chewed up my hair, it sank greedy teeth into my scalp.
My body became a beacon of pain. Every nerve ending screamed at once, but my voice was too weak to answer.
I fell to my knees, my skin splitting like overripe fruit where the fire had dug deepest. I could smell myself burning — a smell I didn't recognize at first, not until it was too late to forget. Like charred meat and scorched hair and something so terribly human it made my soul recoil.
And the worst part? It wasn't quick.
Seconds stretched into eternities. My mind, desperate to escape the agony, began tearing itself apart, fragmenting, retreating into broken memories and flashes of things I would never do again — laugh, cry, touch, breathe.
The world collapsed into darkness long before the flames finished their feast.
But even as everything else faded, the pain lingered.
Heavy.
Absolute.
Unforgiving.
I don't remember what led to me dying. But I remember the way the fire loved me —Too much. Too completely. Until there was nothing left of Raven Ashford but ash, and a scream that never made it out of her burning throat.
×~×~×~
I woke to a sky burning.
A sky cracked open in shades of blood and smoke, where the sun should have been.
The screams were faint at first — distant, hollow, like echoes in a dream — but they grew louder with every ragged breath I took.
Memories not my own bled into the ones I carried from my past life, tangling together until I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. In this new life, my name was Nico Raven. The twin sister of Nico Robin.
I staggered to my feet, the rocky cliff edge biting into my bare soles, my balance unsteady as the world twisted and tore itself apart below.
Flames devoured the heart of Ohara, and I watched, helpless, as the Tree of Knowledge — that ancient monument to humanity's greatest wisdom — collapsed in on itself with a sound like the earth itself was weeping.
Ash swirled through the air, soft and thick, catching in my lashes like falling snow.
Each flake that kissed my skin carried the weight of something precious destroyed — a book, a dream, a life.
I should have run. Should have screamed. Should have cried out for my sister, for the scholars, for anyone.
But all I could do was stand there — frozen between two worlds — as the fire painted the sky with the end of everything I had barely begun to know.
I didn't need anyone to tell me.
Ohara was dying.
And so was the last fragile hope it had carried.
I pressed a trembling hand against my chest, feeling my heart hammering a frantic, wounded rhythm beneath my ribs. Somewhere, deep within the smoke and ruin, I knew Robin was fighting to survive.
I stumbled forward into the streets to find my sister.
The ground beneath my feet was uneven, splintered by falling debris and gouged by cannon fire. Every step felt like moving through a nightmare I couldn't wake from — the air thick with soot, the sky groaning under the weight of distant explosions.
My lungs burned with every breath, but I didn't stop. Couldn't stop.
Somewhere out there, Robin was alone. Terrified. Maybe hurt.
The thought sent a new surge of panic through my veins, sharper than any fear I'd known in either life. I shoved aside fallen branches, leapt over broken stone paths, ignoring the bloody scrapes that bloomed across my shins and hands.
The village — our home — was unrecognizable. The houses were broken skeletons, their blackened ribs reaching for the churning sky. Bodies lay half-shrouded in the ash, still and silent, faces I dimly remembered from mornings at the market or afternoons in the library.
I tore my gaze away. If I stopped to grieve, I would never find her.
A blast shattered the road behind me, throwing up a wall of dust and broken stone. I shielded my head instinctively and stumbled forward blindly, my heart a wild drumbeat in my ears.
"Robin!" I choked out, my voice raw and small against the thunder of destruction.
No answer.
The world tilted — another cannonball slammed into the town square ahead, the ground heaving under the force of it. Statues crumbled, trees split open like kindling, and the fountain we used to sit by after long afternoons of reading was ripped apart in a burst of boiling water and shrapnel.
Tears blurred my vision, mixing with the soot on my face.
I couldn't think. I could only run — lungs screaming, legs trembling — driven by the memory of her smile, her laugh, the way she would shove a book under my nose and demand I read it with her.
Somewhere nearby, I heard soldiers shouting orders, their boots pounding like war drums.
The Marines. The Buster Call. They were here to erase everything. Everyone.
I didn't know how much time I had. Only that I refused — absolutelyrefused — to lose her.
"Robin!" I screamed again, my voice ripping from my throat. "Where are you?!"
For a moment, there was only the roar of fire and cannon and falling stone.
Then —
The ground sloped downward, the shattered path leading me toward a clearing — an open field scorched by cannon fire and scarred with fresh craters.
And there, through the thick veil of smoke and ash, I finally saw her.
"Robin," I whispered, my chest tightening.
Her small figure trembling on the grassy path, ash swirling around her like dying stars.
She was crying — raw, desperate — reaching out for a woman I recognized immediately even though the memories tangled in my head weren't fully mine. Olvia. Our mother.
Spandine's agents had their filthy hands wrapped around her arms, dragging her away like she was nothing more than a criminal.
Robin's voice cracked the sky:
"Don't leave us alone again!"
She cried out with everything she had, like her heart would tear from her chest if she didn't.
The world seemed to hold its breath.
I stumbled toward them, lungs burning, the ground slipping beneath my feet.
"Robin!" I shouted hoarsely.
She turned — wide, broken eyes finding mine. "Raven!" she sobbed, her small hands reaching for me too now, as if trying to hold onto both of us.
I skidded to a halt beside her, grabbing her hand — solid, warm, real — just as an explosion threw up a wave of dust and debris, making them shriek in terror.
Spandine stumbled backward, face twisted in panic.
"Dammit! What the hell?! We haven't gotten off the island yet! Are they trying to kill us? Stoooop it!" he bellowed, voice cracking with fear.
Another cannonball struck the Tree of Knowledge with a deafening roar, splintering ancient wood and raining shards like meteors across the ruined courtyard.
Spandine paled. "Screw it! No time for that now! Just leave her!" he screamed, throwing Olvia roughly to the ground. "If we stay here, we'll get killed too!"
Without a backward glance, he and his men fled — cowards running from the hell they had unleashed.
The air was deafeningly loud, yet somehow I could hear everything:
Robin's ragged breathing, the distant crash of waves, the crackle of burning paper as the Tree's knowledge was devoured by fire.
Olvia pushed herself up weakly, blood running down her temple, and for a moment she just looked at us — Robin and me — two daughters caught in the end of the world.
"Robin... Raven..." she whispered, her voice breaking.
Professor Clover appeared behind her, grabbing her shoulder. "Olvia! You must go — now! Save them!" he urged.
Tears spilled down Robin's cheeks. I tightened my grip on her hand, grounding her, anchoring her — anchoring myself.
Just then, through the fog of ash, a massive figure lumbered into view — panting heavily, coated in soot and blood.
"Robin! Raven! There you are!" Saul's booming voice cracked with relief. "I looked all over for you two!"
Robin and I shouted together, pure instinct:
"Saul!"
He skidded to a stop in front of us, bending down slightly to meet our frantic gazes.
Despite everything — the smoke, the cannon fire, the falling ash — he smiled.
A wide, warm, desperate smile. "So you were able to see Olvia after all," Saul rumbled, his voice gentler now, almost proud.
Olvia's eyes widened the moment she saw him — saw the towering form of the former Vice Admiral, so completely out of place on this dying island.
"Saul! What are you doing here?!" she cried, staggering toward him, disbelief thick in her voice.
Saul's expression darkened. "There's no time to explain," he said urgently, glancing over his massive shoulder as another shell exploded somewhere nearby. The ground shook under our feet.
"You need to get them out of here — both of them! You have to hurry, Olvia!"
Robin clutched my hand tighter, trembling violently. I squeezed back just as hard, grounding her even as fear clawed its way up my throat.
Olvia shook her head, "I still have things to do here. Saul, I'll leave them to you." She dropped to her knees before us, gathering Robin into her arms first — then reaching out to me too, pulling me into the trembling embrace.
"My daughters," she whispered, voice thick with grief. "Listen to me. You must live. No matter what happens, you must survive."
Robin sobbed against her, her small hands fisting tightly in Olvia's torn blouse.
I buried my face into her shoulder too, breathing in the scent of ash and salt and the lingering trace of something softer — something that could have been love, if we'd had more time.
"I love you both so much," Olvia choked out. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you..."
"Mom—" I tried to speak, but the word broke apart on my tongue.
Behind us, the Marines' shouts grew louder.
Saul stepped forward, placing one huge hand on Olvia's shoulder. "If you're going, you have to go now!" he urged. "They're targeting the entire island! There's no time!"
Olvia pulled back, her hands trembling as she brushed Robin's hair from her face, then mine — the last touch of a mother trying to memorize the feel of her children.
She turned to Professor Clover then — his face grim, his body battered.
Together, they shared a look heavy with unspoken things — regret, hope, farewell.
Olvia ran. Back toward the burning Tree. Back toward her death.
Robin screamed after her — heart-wrenching, broken — but Saul scooped us both up before we could follow, gathering Robin and I into the palm of his hands .
"We have to go!" he bellowed, his voice shaking. "Your mother... your mother entrusted you both to me!"
The world around us was nothing but fire and ruin. The earth cracked and groaned under the relentless assault from the Buster Call fleet.
Tears streaked my ash-caked cheeks as I clutched Robin tightly. We were leaving everything behind — our mother, our home, the dreams we barely understood.
I couldn't accept that. I couldn't recall my previous life. Not in great detail anyway, even though I do remember having eidetic memory, and I suppose still do considering I spent most of my days going through all the books in the Tree of Knowledge.
But what little I did remember from my previous life is that, I had always cherished family.
And that made what happened next all the more unbearable.
The scream tore from Robin's throat as Saul stumbled forward, shielding us both from a barrage of falling debris. He grunted—more in frustration than pain—and began to run. His massive strides shook the earth beneath us, but even his size couldn't outpace the chaos behind.
"Hold on!" he roared, as the world buckled under another cannon strike.
I wrapped my arms around Robin, clutching her as tightly as I could. Her face was pressed against my shoulder, her sobs hot against my neck. I didn't let myself cry. Not yet. I needed to think—needed to plan. Even if we made it off the island, the World Government wouldn't stop. Not with what we knew. Not with who we were.
×~×~×~
Saul honored our mother's final plea without hesitation, holding us protectively to his chest as he thundered through the collapsing ruins of Ohara. His massive strides devoured the distance toward the shoreline, even as explosions rained down behind us.
But the moment we broke through the treeline to the jagged coast, the cannon fire resumed with brutal intensity. The Marine warships had spotted us.
"Damn it!" Saul hissed under his breath, shielding us with his bulk as shells ripped into the cliffs around us, sending shards of stone flying like shrapnel.
Realizing the danger of keeping us in his arms, Saul knelt quickly and set Robin and me down behind a cracked boulder. His jaw clenched with fury as another cannonball barely missed us, kicking up a wave of searing air and debris.
With a roar that rattled the very bones of the earth, Saul turned on the attacking ships. His massive fists slammed into the rocky shore, sending tidal waves surging toward the fleet. With terrifying strength, he uprooted slabs of stone and hurled them like cannonballs of his own.
The closest Marine vessel splintered under the impact, its mast snapping like a twig. Another ship capsized as Saul charged knee-deep into the waves, swatting cannonballs out of the air like they were nothing but pebbles. His anger—his desperation—not for himself, but for us.
Robin grabbed my hand, her small fingers trembling in mine. "Come on," she urged, tears still wet on her face. "We have to reach the evacuation ship."
I nodded, glancing back at Saul with my heart in my throat before following her down the beach. We sprinted toward the only vessel left untouched by cannon fire—a large evacuation ship crowded with fleeing citizens and scholars.
Robin, driven by panic and hope, stretched out her trembling arms, sprouting blooming hands toward the ship using her Hana Hana no Mi. "Grab us—please!" she cried out desperately.
But the moment her conjured hands reached for the deck, terrified screams erupted from those on board. People recoiled in horror, shoving each other back from the railing, eyes wide with fear.
"Devil child!" someone shouted.
"No! Don't let them on!" another yelled.
And then we heard it—Spandine's oily, venomous voice carried over the chaos. "Those two are archaeologists! They're enemies of the World Government! Do not let them aboard!"
Robin's face crumpled. Her arms vanished, her body shaking. I grabbed her hand again, pulling her back before she could fall to her knees in front of them. My jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. My nails bit into my palms.
Cowards. All of them.
Robin tried to stifle her sobs as we turned away, her body trembling violently. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, guiding her back toward the tree line—only to freeze as a thunderous explosion rocked the air behind us.
We spun around just in time to see the evacuation ship—a ship filled with innocent people—obliterated in a fiery blast.
"No," Robin whispered, eyes wide with horror. "No, no, no—"
I felt bile rise in my throat as my gaze found the man responsible, standing on the bow of a distant Marine vessel with his fists still smoking from the blast. Sakazuki. The monster who destroyed any chance of survival for those aboard under the guise of 'justice.'
"He did it… just in case…" I hissed under my breath, my nails digging into my palms until I tasted blood in my mouth from biting back a scream.
Before Robin or I could process it further, another crack of ice and frost roared through the air.
We turned toward the cliffs—only to see Saul locked in a losing struggle with Vice Admiral Kuzan.
"No—Saul!" Robin cried, clutching my arm.
We watched in horror as ice spread rapidly across Saul's body, freezing his limbs mid-stride as he tried to reach us. The giant's breath turned ragged as frost crept up his shoulders, his movements slowing, becoming sluggish.
"Listen… to me…" Saul rasped, his voice thick and heavy as ice locked his legs in place. He fought against it with every ounce of his strength, turning his frozen gaze toward us. "Run… find the raft… your friends… they're waiting for you out there…"
Robin collapsed to her knees, sobbing, but I didn't let her fall apart. I pulled her to her feet and dragged her toward the hidden cove where Saul had built a crude raft in secret.
We barely made it before another blast shook the ground behind us.
And there—waiting like a ghost—stood Kuzan, arms crossed, watching us with unreadable eyes.
We froze, our breath catching in our throats, expecting death to come at any second. But instead… he sighed.
"I'm letting you go," he said flatly, as if the decision weighed more than he cared to admit. His cold gaze narrowed on us. "I want to see what Saul died for. But mark my words—if you ever threaten the world… I will come after you both."
Neither of us dared to speak. I gritted my teeth, my entire body shaking with a tangled storm of hatred, fear, and confusion.
With a single wave of his hand, Kuzan lowered himself to the ground and touched the sea, freezing a narrow, glistening path of ice leading out into the open ocean.
We hesitated only a heartbeat before pushing the raft forward. I grabbed the makeshift pole and guided us along the frozen path, the creak of ice beneath us deafening in the silence that followed.
Robin clutched my arm, trembling violently. She tried to laugh—Saul's words echoing in her mind—but the sound broke halfway, dissolving into raw, heart-wrenching sobs.
I dropped the pole and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close as the island of Ohara burned behind us—nothing but ash, ruin, and memory.
We were the only survivors.
We had nothing except each other.