Consciousness slowly returned. Pain gnawed at his body, every bruise screaming, but more stinging than painful was hunger. His stomach railed like a savage animal.
"Tch…" He forced himself to open his eyes. Bound to a wooden stake by the hot sun, he estimated the time he'd been left here with no food nor water.
Memories flooded back—though they weren't his.
He Fang. Former-Sword Immortal who once sat at the top of the Nine Planes. One step from being transcendent, then overthrown. He had failed.
That's where my soul roamed…
He almost laughed when fragments of its memory merged with him.
Roronoa Zoro. He was an orphan who trained day after day, who vowed to his only friend, Kuina, that he'd be the greatest swordsman the world had ever known.
"What irony," He Fang sighed out loud. "Two hearts, one oath. Very well then, Zoro… if fate has tied us by a thread, then I shall witness your pledge being fulfilled. We shall carve out a road the world never knew."
It growled again.
"Look over there, that's him tied up."
"Hold back—That's the Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro! He's dangerous."
Two voices pierced his thoughts. A straw-hatted youth and another who had pink hair walked towards him from a few feet away.
"Oi, you," Zoro snarled, looking up. "Release me. I've been here for days."
The pink-haired youth—Koby—paled. "He will kill us the moment he is loose!"
The straw-hat kid smiled. "It's okay, Koby. I'm strong"
Zoro smiled thinly. Audacious one, this youth. Interesting.
Just as there was more that could be said, a small girl walked slowly across the yard. She bore something draped in cloth, paying no heed to patrolling marines.
"Shhh! Quiet down," she whispered at them. She then went up to Zoro.
He leaned forward. "What do you need, little one?"
She presented the bundle. "I… I made these rice balls for you. You do need food. I've never made them before."
The odor assailed him like salvation. He hungered for food with every fiber of his body, but could not stoop low enough with his tied hands to accept them. His face gentled—recollections of another existence, of children bestowing gentleness upon a hungry orphan—dwelled in their memory.
"You're thoughtful," Zoro murmured. "Thanks"
But before he could sample even one bite—
An angry voice broke the silence. "Oi! What's this? Rice balls? For me, obviously."
Helmepo entered with marines beside him, smug face framed by strange hair. Zoro's memory confirmed that: the spoiled child who'd had him immobilized here.
Without hesitation, Helmepo snatched the rice balls and stuffed one into his mouth.
"Gag. What's that? Sweet? You are supposed to salt the rice balls, moron!"
He spitted it on the ground and trampled the rest with his boot.
The eyes of the little girl were brimming with tears. "Enough! I've slaved—"
She tearfully broke down while Helmepo scoffed.
"Pathetic. I hate children. You—" He waved at an available marine at attention. "Throw her over the wall."
The marine hesitated. "But sir… she's only a child—"
"DO IT! I'm Captain Morgan's son!"
He reluctantly took the girl.
"Oi, oi—" Straw Hat ran toward her, stopping her from hitting the ground.
None of them felt anything differently about Zoro.
His face set hard, eyes closing tight to a razor's edge. He'd experienced hunger, pain, humiliation—but child abuse was something that he could never forgive.
The room grew stifling. Marines shifted uncomfortably, but they did not understand why. Helmepo's face turned pale in mid-laughter.
His voice was husky, trembling with suppressed rage. "You dare…"
A heartbeat detonated. Invisible, paralyzing. A wave of murderous intent—animal-like and feral—erupted outward. Marines dropped like puppets with cut strings. Helmepo's knees collapsed out from under him as his mind went blank with terror.
Even the walls of the Marine base groaned with the effort.
The yard fell silent except for the breathing of a hungry swordsman.