The forest was a tapestry of deep shadows and silver moonlight. It was midnight, the full moon hanging like a pearl in the inky sky, casting long, dancing silhouettes among the ancient trees.
A crackling fire cast flickering light, illuminating a small clearing.
Robin sat gracefully on a fallen tree, her knees drawn up, her gaze soft.
Opposite her, Guts was in his usual, impossibly comfortable sitting position, his broad back leaning against the flat, obsidian side of the Dragon Slayer, which had simply stood on the ground behind him.
Between them, kneeling by the fire, Guernica was meticulously grilling strips of sea meat, the fat hissing and sizzling over the flames, filling the night air with a rich aroma.
"This is the last time we eat together," Guernica said, his voice quiet, almost casual, as he flipped a piece of meat.
Robin stiffened.
Her eyes, usually so keen, softened further as she engaged her Whisperer ability.
Beneath the surface of his calm words, she sensed something profound, something far deeper than mere separation. It was a sadness, yes, but not about the parting itself. It was the knowledge that he couldn't ever be seen again.
A finality that chilled her to the bone.
"Are we... are we going to see you again?" Robin asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Guernica paused his grilling for a moment, his masked face turned towards the fire.
Then, a soft chuckle escaped him, devoid of his usual dry amusement, filled instead with a weary fondness.
"I could never fool both of you, could I?"
He resumed his task, loading more meat onto the grill.
He didn't deny it.
"There is a high possibility that the Higher Ups are aware of my... altered allegiances. And if that's the case... they are going to erase me."
Robin's voice was barely a trembling thread.
"You shouldn't go."
Guernica kept grilling, the rhythmic sizzle a stark counterpoint to the raw emotion in Robin's voice.
He filled their plates generously with the succulent meat, placing them carefully within reach.
After a moment, he slowly got to his feet.
He turned to Guts, and to Guts's surprise, Guernica bowed deeply, his masked head inclining in a gesture of profound respect.
"Thank you, Guts-san," he said, his voice imbued with a rare, naked sincerity.
"Thank you for teaching me how to become human again. For showing me how far one goes to protect someone they love."
Then, he turned to Robin. His masked gaze seemed to bore into her, a silent message passing between them.
"Nico Robin-san," he began, his voice softening, "I've left all my precious books in the ship I docked on the west side of Amazon Lily. Please... make good use of them."
He paused, then his voice grew softer still, carrying a fragile hope. "I truly hope... both of you can reach a happy ending."
With those final words, Guernica turned, his form blending seamlessly into the deep shadows of the forest, leaving behind only the scent of grilled meat and the lingering echoes of a farewell that felt far too absolute.
The next morning, the imposing silhouette of Rear Admiral Momonga's ship appeared on the horizon, cutting through the calm waters surrounding Amazon Lily.
As it drew closer to the pristine shores, the ever-vigilant Kuja tribes emerged from the dense jungle, their bows drawn, arrows coated in hardened Haki pointed with unwavering precision at the encroaching vessel.
"No man can enter our land!" the Kuja representative, a fierce warrior with a hawk-like gaze, called out, her voice ringing with authority.
Rear Admiral Momonga, a man of stern discipline and unwavering courage, gave a silent command.
"No one disembarks!" he ordered his men, his voice low but firm. Then, without a word, he jumped out from his ship and began to walk alone towards the forest, directly towards where the Kuja representative stood, a silent, unyielding figure of defiance. A few arrows whistled past his head, some landing perilously close to his feet – clear warnings – but he didn't falter.
He continued his measured pace until he stood just a few steps from the representative.
"My objective is straightforward," Momonga stated, his voice calm and formal, his eyes fixed on the Kuja warrior. "I am here to pick up Boa Hancock, and a newly appointed Warlord, Guts, for the Shichibukai meeting. And for Guts's official inauguration as a Shichibukai."
The representative's face remained impassive. "Wait there, Marine," she commanded, her arrow still aimed squarely at his chest. "Not a single step further, or the next shot will not be a warning." She asks other Kuja warriors to deliver the message to Kuja Castle.
Momonga, unmoving, stood his ground. He waited for a moment, the tension thick in the air, until a regal presence emerged from the heart of the jungle.
It was Boa Hancock, the Pirate Empress, flanked by her formidable sisters, Boa Sandersonia and Boa Marigold.
Hancock was breathtaking, impossibly tall and slender, with a cascade of long, glossy black hair that framed a face of unparalleled beauty.
She wore an open, flowing white shirt over a revealing top, and a long, dark skirt slit to the thigh, accentuating her majestic figure.
Her sisters, while equally tall, possessed more pronounced serpentine features, their powerful bodies cloaked in traditional Kuja attire, their eyes sharp and vigilant.
Hancock surveyed Momonga with an air of profound displeasure, her exquisite lips curling into a petulant pout.
"You disgust me, man," she declared, her voice a melodious venom. "I already said before, if they are going to send someone, send a woman. Not a disgusting man!" Her arrogant beauty was captivating, even in her disdain.
Momonga, a stoic Marine officer, felt an undeniable tremor. Because her pouting look was so cute, and her annoyed face looked so beautiful, his heart started to shake.
The insidious effects of Boa Hancock's Mero Mero no Mi began to spread through him, threatening to turn his body to stone.
He gritted his teeth, his hand instinctively reaching for the dagger strapped to his thigh, preparing to stab his leg to repel the devil fruit's charm, a painful but effective countermeasure.
But before he could act, a new presence made itself known.
A heavy, guttural sigh seemed to materialize from the shadows of the trees.
A figure emerged, cloaked in a tattered black garment that covered most of his familiar Berserker Armor, obscuring its monstrous details. The colossal Dragon Slayer hung casually behind him, its dark form a silent, menacing promise.
The moment Guts appeared, the alluring effects of the Mero Mero no Mi on Momonga instantly vanished, replaced by an overwhelming feeling of dread that seeped into his very bones.
Guts's presence was like a sudden drop in temperature, a shadow falling over the vibrant jungle.
Guts's eyes, fixed on Momonga, were cold and unamused.
He frowned.
"I don't have time for a meeting," he stated, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that brooked no argument. "My daughter isn't feeling well. And I need to prepare for her birthday."
Rear Admiral Momonga watched Guts with a professional gaze, though his mind was racing.
He knew of Guts's terrifying reputation, of the bloodshed and the supernatural power.
Yet, strangely, the reports also painted him as the most reasonable of the Warlords – a man of grim principles, not wanton destruction.
Still, there was something about Guts's presence, his very aura, that just felt wrong, an inhumane aura that felt like it wasn't from this world.
Despite his unyielding composure, Momonga's hand trembled almost imperceptibly behind his back.
"Guts-san," Momonga began, his voice steady despite the tremor in his hidden hand.
"This is an important meeting. The Shichibukai finally has seven members, and your inauguration is paramount. You need to be formally introduced to others."
He offered a reassuring nod. "I assure you, the meeting will not take long. The others are already assembled at the designated location in Sabaody."
Guts let out a long, weary sigh. He simply gave a curt nod.
"I'm going. My way." With that, he raised his hand and let out a sharp, piercing whistle that cut through the jungle air.
From the depths of the sea, a gargantuan shape breached the waves. Gargar, the happy-go-lucky Sea King, surfaced with a joyful splash, his massive head rearing, causing immediate pandemonium among the Marines on Momonga's ship.
Weapons were drawn, cannons swiveled, and shouts of alarm erupted. The crew panicked, almost attacking the very creature meant to transport their new Warlord.
"Halt all attacks!" Momonga barked, his voice cutting through the chaos. He turned back to Guts, offering a stiff, apologetic bow.
"My apologies, Guts-san. My men are... unaccustomed to such methods of travel."
Guts merely gave a small, understanding nod. He was used to the fear his companion inspired.
Momonga, seeing the implicit acceptance, returned to his ship, relaying new orders to his still-jittery crew.
With Momonga back on his vessel, Guts turned and went directly towards where his ship was, then leaped onto it, which sat floating quietly near the shore. It was a humble, functional vessel, utterly mastless.
The mast, he had personally cut down and discarded, after Rayleigh kept trying to hang a Jolly Roger that the old man had secretly made, emblazoned with Guts's grim, skeletal characteristics crossed by Dragon Slayer.
Guts moved to the bow, ready to give Gargar the command to pull them. But a voice stopped him.
"Wait!"
It was Boa Hancock.
She and her sisters, Sandersonia and Marigold, stood at the water's edge, their fierce Kuja warriors flanking them.
Guts turned, his frown deepening. "Why?" he asked, his voice blunt. "Don't you hate men?"
Hancock's perfect lips pursed into an arrogant sneer.
"You?" she scoffed, pointing a disdainful finger. "You are not a man. You are a cold, unfeeling crustacean creature."
Her expression then softened ever so slightly, a fleeting look of shrewd practicality.
"Besides, traveling with this... creature," she gestured dismissively at Gargar, "is faster and far more comfortable than a Marine ship. My sisters and I will accompany you."
Guts merely sighed again, a sound of profound weariness. He didn't bother to argue. He just wanted to arrive faster, and leave faster. With a slight tilt of his head, he gave them a silent, exasperated allowance to jump aboard.