"Then why didn't you call us?!"
Shiro's voice spiked, sharp with accusation. His words shook with a mix of anger and hurt.
"Even if it was hell itself—we, the Roger Pirates, have never run from danger!"
Roger slowly shook his head, his fingertip tracing the rim of the empty bottle.
"You've read the Poneglyphs too. Imu isn't just anyone—she was once the Sun God's own attendant… and she stole part of the Sun Tree's primal power. Her strength… is immeasurable.
I thought if I went alone, I could at least test her true power… see the face of the shadow that rules the world."
Shiro leaned forward, eyes burning with expectation.
"You saw her, then?"
Roger's hand tightened on the bottle. His knuckles went white. A shadow of pain and hate crossed his eyes.
"'Saw her? Hah… More than that. The state you see me in now—this is her handiwork!"
Shiro stiffened. His hand instinctively dropped to the hilt of his blade.
"She's really that strong? What did she do to you?"
Roger drew in a long breath. His voice sank, as if reliving the suffocating memory.
"A week ago, I stowed away inside a cargo ship bound for the Holy Land. The moment I set foot near the World Government's tower, the so-called Holy Knights swarmed me."
He scoffed.
"Those arrogant fools rely on their unnatural immortality. A single blast of my Conqueror's Haki sent them sprawling. They were nothing.
But when I reached the top floors, the Five Elders and their captain—Figarland Garling—blocked the way. Six against one… I'll admit, that slowed me down."
Then a smirk tugged at his lips.
"But when I shifted into Nika, their strength crumbled. The Elders weakened instantly. Only Garling could keep pace. With the Fifth Gear's power, I forced my way through and finally reached the highest chamber."
Shiro's eyes narrowed.
"What was it like… inside?"
Roger's voice lowered to a growl.
"Dark. Silent. In the center, suspended in shadow, was a throne—the Empty Throne.
And there she sat. Imu. Wrapped in endless white cloth, like a lifeless doll. The moment we entered, the Five Elders and Garling dropped to their knees, heads pressed to the floor, not daring to look up."
His fist cracked as he clenched it.
"The instant she saw my Nika form, she didn't speak. She just raised her hand. A jet-black arrow of energy screamed toward me, colder than the abyss. I shattered it—but what came next still chills my bones."
His pupils shrank, his voice trembling despite his will.
"She didn't use Haki. No Devil Fruit. Instead, she pulled out a book—its cover etched with golden glyphs. She spoke in a voice… not human, not of this world.
And then… weapons filled the air. Poisoned daggers, Neptune tridents, guns the size of anchors—raining down on me like a storm. That wasn't even the worst of it."
Roger swallowed hard.
"The worst was the circle she drew across the floor. Glowing runes rose like chains, binding me. No matter how I stretched, inflated, twisted my body—I couldn't break free.
When my strength was nearly drained, she pressed her palm against my chest. A pentagram seared into my body."
He ripped open his filthy coat.
On his stomach burned a black, snake-like sigil, pulsing with eerie light.
"All at once, my strength drained away. I collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. When I woke… this cursed mark was carved into me."
Shiro leaned closer. Each corner of the pentagram glowed a deep, blood-red. He hissed through his teeth.
"Don't tell me… Imu sealed your power with that book?"
Roger gave a bitter nod, running his fingers across the brand. His hand trembled.
"My Haki, my Devil Fruit, everything—it's chained. Locked tight by her curse. I'm a husk of myself."
The Pirate King, stripped of power—like an eagle with its wings torn away, caged, forced to watch his skies swallowed by storm clouds.
"Then why didn't she kill you?" Shiro pressed, stepping closer, his brow furrowed tight.
"She almost did."
Roger's voice dropped lower, his eyes hard.
"But the Elders stopped her. They suggested spreading news of my capture across the seas… then executing me publicly. To frighten every pirate, to raise the World Government's false glory."
His lip curled with disgust, every word spat like poison.
The man whose eyes once lit the seas now glared blood-red, burning with unyielding fury.
"Captain, don't worry! I'll get you out!"
Shiro slammed his chest with a fist, eyes blazing with determination.
Roger only let out a heavy sigh. It rattled like stone in his lungs.
"No, Shiro."
He shook his head slowly. His voice was heavy, resigned.
"Even if you freed me, I'm finished. I can feel it—the mark carries Imu's power. She can end me whenever she wishes. My life and death… are in her hands."
Shiro staggered back, as if struck. His back slammed against the cold stone wall. His face drained pale.
He knew Roger wasn't lying. Not only Roger—he knew the truth. The Elders. The Holy Knights. Every one of them bore Imu's mark. All of them were just puppets on her strings. At a whim, she could reduce them to dust.
Seeing Shiro's shaken face, Roger forced a faint smile. His eyes softened, his wrinkles easing.
"Don't grieve for me, Shiro. I've already reached the Final Island. To have come that far in this lifetime… that's enough. I have no regrets."
T/N: If you would like to read up to 20 chapters ahead for all my works, check out my P@treon: patreon.com/GhidorahWriter
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