Intent and intuition.
That was how Mihawk would describe his navigational prowess. His intent was to reach Shells Town; his intuition told him which direction to take. The method appeared to work only for certain locations. When he tried to find Luffy, his intuition offered no guidance as to the boy's whereabouts. He'd also focused his intent on Laugh Tale, but his intuition provided no direction there either.
An alteration by the Almighty? Surely, given such specific limitations.
Concerning Buggy and his crew, he had sent them away in their ship. This took even less time than expected. As for the Hitsugibune, he sent the boat with them for safekeeping.
He found it unfortunate that he wouldn't witness their expressions upon regaining consciousness. Still, he would surely encounter them again in the future.
Why?
The reason rested at his feet in a cloth sack. Inside was a small portion of treasure, assorted items he deemed useful, along with a dozen slices of Buggy.
Mihawk had plans for the future big-nosed Yonko. What better way to guide him toward those plans than with slices of himself? Buggy would be wise to keep the navigation chart left for him close.
He turned back toward Orange Town, a mere speck to others from this distance. With his enhanced sight, however, he could zoom in and see distant objects with perfect clarity. The Almighty's alterations, he presumed.
Below him floated a buoyant chunk of ship he'd acquired from the Big Top, which served as his vessel while he traveled across the windswept sea. Its bright original color was now replaced with a dark coating that bore a golden tint – the appearance of his Armament Haki enveloping the makeshift craft.
Activating his Observation Haki, Mihawk turned his attention rightward until he spotted the familiar silhouette of Nami sailing away. Would she head for her village or rob more pirates? Likely both, if he had to wager.
He still intended to recruit her into his crew, but this was neither the correct time nor place.
At present, his focus was on reaching Shells Town and uncovering what had happened to Luffy. The journey would take time, making this the perfect opportunity to activate his first gift.
Still shrouded in the Nameless Cloak, he raised his right palm toward the sky. At its center rested a tattoo of absolute black: a stylized stack of parchments viewed from a three-quarter angle with the top sheet's corner curled back, ready to be drawn.
His first gift bore the name Sacred Covenant.
As Mihawk channeled his will into the tattoo, the ink began to transform, allowing the curled page to peel away from his skin and take solid form. In a burst of brilliant white light, the parchment expanded from its compressed state and levitated above his open palm.
The document resembled ancient parchment, marked by deep amber stains reminiscent of a bounty poster. His likeness commanded the upper section, a flawless portrait set against the discolored background. Below the image, bold lettering proclaimed his information:
[ Name: Dracule Mihawk ]
[ Age: 41 ]
[ Power Rank: Yonko + ]
As he examined the document, a name surfaced in his mind; unbidden but certain. This was a Fate Parchment. When he tried to probe deeper for its rules or purpose, he hit a barrier. Knowledge existed there – he could sense its presence just beyond his reach – but it remained sealed off.
Connected to the Fate Parchment was the Provisional Parchment, which served as the Fate Parchment's initial form and would appear when Resonance occurred.
That was all? Was this some form of punishment? No explanations came with these names, and he was unsure what 'Resonance' meant in this context.
Yet another detail followed: understanding the first gift wholly required forming a pact. Should someone accept the invitation to join him with genuine resolve, the Sacred Covenant would bind them together and reveal every secret it held.
What exactly was the Sacred Covenant? And what did 'join him' truly mean? His crew? His life's journey? His rebellion against the world? The vague terminology provided no answers at all.
He desired concrete details, not odious ambiguity.
A slow exhale left Mihawk's nostrils as he turned his attention to his power rank. When he focused on this aspect, information flowed in. What he learned revealed twenty power ranks. Even at his current level of 'Yonko +' there were still three ranks above.
This knowledge brought a problem to light. How was he to climb these power ranks? Given his current might, trying to raise his strength by leaps and bounds through training and fighting didn't seem like the most efficient method.
Pondering for a moment, he reached a plausible answer. The Sacred Covenant. Its secrets would provide a path for him to increase his strength. If not, then the path he would need to take would look much different.
Beyond the challenge of growing stronger, his greatest hurdle remained the World Government. He wouldn't let another governmental force take everything from him again, yet facing them alone was impossible. Despite years of solitude, he would need a crew of capable allies – no, he wanted a crew of people he could trust. And rather than attempting to recruit those at their peak, which seemed like an unfeasible task, molding promising individuals into legends held far more appeal.
He closed his right hand into a fist, drawing the Fate Parchment back into his palm.
For now, he had a destination to reach, come what may.
A short while later...
Mihawk's ringed eyes opened to a familiar sight on the horizon.
Shells Town rose from the sea on tiers of tan rock under a bright sky strewn with clouds. Buildings climbed its slopes in a cascade of rooftops that led the eye upward to the true seat of power at its peak: the 153rd Branch Marine base. Blue-gray stone formed the massive fortress, defined by two immense cylindrical towers shaped like a power plant's cooling stacks, bristling with cannons.
As he neared the island, he scanned its edge for the dinghy Luffy and Koby should've arrived on after defeating Alvida. When that proved fruitless, he switched to Observation Haki. Luffy's silhouette would be unmistakable, but neither he nor Koby were anywhere on the island. He did, however, find one silhouette he was looking for up at the Marine base.
☠ ☠ ☠
Roronoa Zora's head hung low as she stood bound to the crude wooden cross. Her black bandana had become a sweat-soaked strip across her forehead. Thirst was no longer a sensation; it had become her entire reality, a rasp of sandpaper in her throat and a dull, pounding drum behind her eyes. Heat had baked all moisture from her cracked lips. Her stomach had moved past hunger into a hollow, aching void, and the ropes binding her arms had rubbed her skin raw, grinding coarse fibers into a paste of dried sweat and dirt.
Nine days, she thought. Twenty-one to go...
Dizziness swept over her, the numbers blurring into a swaying tide, yet through it all, Kuina's face surfaced with perfect clarity. Her oldest rival and dearest friend rose from memory just as she had on the day they made their promise, sweat cooling on their skin after their final duel, the same fierce frustration burning in their eyes against every limit set for women who carried swords.
That promise blazed again, bright and unbreakable. Its weight sharpened her resolve like a whetstone on a dulled edge. This was not a trivial test of endurance; it was an open war against every wall built to keep female swordsmen small, every whispered doubt and condescending smile, every claim that a woman's body could not reach the pinnacle of strength. She would grind each one beneath her heel.
Yielding now or ever would validate those barriers and betray everything she and Kuina had sworn to overturn. Pain could scream all it wanted, for besides that promise it was mere background noise.
She held to that conviction, repeating it like a silent mantra, until footsteps across the dusty courtyard drew her back to the present.
Zora lifted her head. A tall figure had resolved itself from the heat haze, draped in black robes that seemed to drink the light, its face an abyss of shadow beneath a deep hood.
It moved with measured, inevitable steps and stopped a meter from her.
A grin split her bloodied lips. "What's the matter? Lose your scythe?"
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Powerstones, collections, and comments fuel me. Thank you in advance!