Chapter 19: Desert King
Year 1516 - Alabasta, Rainbase
Crocodile's sand blade swept through the room, and Aiko barely managed to transform into snow to avoid being bisected. He reformed across the room, Yukikaze already drawn, his crew flanking him.
"Aria, Sadi—get out!" Aiko commanded. "This is beyond your level!"
"Like hell we're leaving you—" Aria started.
"THAT'S AN ORDER!"
His Conqueror's Haki flared, not as an attack but as emphasis. Both women hesitated, then reluctantly retreated through a window, vanishing into Rainbase's streets.
Crocodile watched with amusement, his hook gleaming in the lamplight. "Noble. Stupid, but noble. You could have used them as distractions while you escaped."
"I don't sacrifice my people for tactical advantage," Aiko replied, falling into combat stance. "That's the difference between us."
"The difference between us," Crocodile corrected, "is that I'm about to kill you, and you're about to die. Everything else is philosophical nonsense."
He attacked.
Sand erupted from every surface—the floor, the walls, even the air itself seemed to transform into Crocodile's element. This was the power of a Logia user in their ideal environment. In the desert, Crocodile was practically a god.
"Desert Spada!" Desert Sword!
A massive blade of compressed sand, sharp enough to cut through stone, screamed toward Aiko. He blocked with Yukikaze coated in Armament Haki, but the impact sent him crashing through the wall into the street outside.
Civilians screamed and fled. Smart—this fight would level buildings.
Aiko stood, assessing damage. His arms were already drying out, skin cracking slightly from where Crocodile's sand had made contact. The Warlord's Devil Fruit didn't just control sand—it absorbed moisture on contact. In a desert environment, against someone whose power was literally frozen water...
This was the worst possible matchup.
"You're already dehydrating," Crocodile observed, walking through the hole in the wall as casually as if entering a different room. "My sand absorbs moisture from anything it touches. Your snow will melt in this heat, and your body will dry out long before you can hurt me. This fight's already over."
"Then why are you still talking?"
Aiko's counterattack came fast—a slash infused with Conqueror's Haki that sent a wave of absolute zero cold directly at Crocodile. The Warlord transformed to sand, letting the attack pass through him, then reformed with a smirk.
"Cute trick. But Logia intangibility means—"
Aiko appeared behind him, Yukikaze already in motion, coated in black lightning.
"—means nothing against advanced Haki!" Aiko finished.
The blade connected, drawing blood across Crocodile's back. The Warlord's eyes widened in genuine surprise.
"You can use Conqueror's coating. Well. That's inconvenient." Crocodile spun, his hook aimed at Aiko's throat. "But I've fought Whitebeard, boy. You're going to need more than fancy Haki to survive me."
What followed was a battle between two Logia users, both trying to overcome the other's intangibility through superior Haki.
Crocodile's sand attacks came from every direction—the ground erupting beneath Aiko's feet, sand blades slicing from impossible angles, even the air filling with abrasive particles designed to scour flesh from bone. His decades of combat experience showed in every movement, each attack part of a larger strategy to wear down his opponent.
Aiko defended desperately, his awakened snow powers creating barriers of ice, his Observation Haki predicting attacks before they materialized, his Conqueror's coating the only thing preventing Crocodile's sand from simply passing through his defenses.
But he was losing ground.
The heat was overwhelming. Every time he created ice, it melted within seconds. Every time he summoned snow, it turned to water then evaporated. His Devil Fruit powers, so dominant in temperate climates, were being systematically neutralized by environmental disadvantage.
"Sables!" Heavy Sands!
Crocodile's technique created a wave of ultra-dense sand that crashed over Aiko like a tsunami. He tried to dodge, but the sand was everywhere—coating him, weighing him down, absorbing the moisture from his skin, his breath, his very cells.
He gasped, feeling dehydration setting in. His lips cracked. His eyes dried. His movements slowed.
"This is how it ends for everyone who challenges me in my domain," Crocodile said, walking toward the half-buried Aiko. "Slowly, painfully, becoming mummified while still alive. Your precious conviction means nothing against the desert itself."
Aiko's mind raced through options. He was outmatched here—Crocodile's environmental advantage was too great. He needed to change the battlefield, shift conditions, find some way to—
Water.
His snow was frozen water. And while it melted quickly here, what if he didn't try to keep it frozen? What if he let it melt deliberately, flooding the area, turning sand into mud?
It would cost him. Using his Devil Fruit powers to create massive amounts of snow that he immediately let melt—the energy expenditure would be enormous. But it might be his only chance.
"Yuki no Mai: Dai Sekka!" Snow Dance: Great Snow Fall!
Aiko's awakened powers erupted at full strength. Snow exploded from his position in quantities that defied logic—tons of it, covering the entire street, piling up faster than it could melt. The temperature dropped dramatically as he poured every ounce of power into creation.
And then he stopped trying to maintain it.
The snow melted almost instantly in Alabasta's heat, creating a flash flood that swept through the street. Hundreds of gallons of water crashed over everything, soaking the sand, turning the desert surface into mud and sludge.
Crocodile's expression twisted in fury. "You dare—"
"Your sand needs to be dry to control it effectively," Aiko gasped, the technique having nearly exhausted him. "Wet sand is just mud. And mud doesn't flow like sand does."
It wasn't a complete counter—Crocodile could still fight, still use his powers. But the wet ground slowed his techniques, made his attacks less fluid, reduced his terrain advantage.
And Aiko, despite his exhaustion, wasn't done.
"You've fought Whitebeard," he said, standing despite his body's protests. "Then you know what it looks like when someone refuses to fall. When conviction matters more than power."
His Conqueror's Haki flared—not the massive burst he'd used against Kizaru, but focused, controlled, directed entirely at Crocodile. The Warlord's own Haki met it, two wills colliding in invisible warfare.
"Impressive," Crocodile admitted, his casual demeanor cracking slightly. "Most people can't stand in my presence, let alone challenge me directly. But you're still going to lose, Snow Admiral. Because I'm not just strong—I'm experienced. I know how to fight awakened Logia users. I know how to counter Haki. And most importantly..."
His entire body transformed into a massive sand construct—a giant made of compressed desert, thirty feet tall, looming over the flooded street.
"Sables: Pesado!" Heavy Sands: Seriously Heavy!
"...I know how to end fights quickly when they become inconvenient!"
The sand giant's fist came down with force that should have pulverized Aiko. But he was already moving, his Observation Haki having seen the attack coming, his body transforming to snow and flowing around the impact point.
He reformed on the giant's arm, running up toward its head, Yukikaze trailing absolute zero cold that froze the wet sand solid behind him.
"If you're going to use size as an advantage," Aiko shouted over the wind, "then I'll just have to aim for the weak point!"
He reached the construct's head—where Crocodile's real body had to be maintaining control—and thrust Yukikaze forward with everything he had left.
"Hyōsō: Zekku!" Ice Burial: Certain Kill!
The blade, coated in Conqueror's Haki and absolute zero temperatures, stabbed directly into the center of the sand giant's face.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the entire construct began to freeze—not just the surface, but the molecular structure itself, water content crystallizing, sand particles locking together. The giant cracked, fissures spreading from where Aiko's blade had struck.
Inside, Crocodile's eyes widened. "That technique—"
"Bypasses Logia intangibility," Aiko finished. "By freezing the very concept of sand, making it too solid to flow. You can't become sand that can't move."
The construct shattered.
Both fighters fell, hitting the muddy street hard. Aiko rolled to his feet, breathing heavily, blood dripping from a dozen cuts. Crocodile stood more slowly, his expensive coat ruined, actual concern showing in his expression for the first time.
"You're better than I thought," the Warlord admitted. "Much better. But this isn't over—"
"Sir Crocodile."
Both fighters turned to see Nico Robin standing on a nearby rooftop, her dark hair flowing in the desert wind, her expression unreadable.
"The Marines have been alerted," she said calmly. "Three ships approaching the harbor. They'll arrive within the hour. I suggest we postpone this confrontation to avoid... complications."
Crocodile's jaw tightened, but he was too pragmatic to ignore the warning. "This isn't finished, Snow Admiral."
"I know." Aiko kept his blade ready despite exhaustion. "But when we do finish it, it'll be because I've stopped your plan. Whatever you're doing in Alabasta—I'm going to expose it."
"Bold words from someone who can barely stand. But fine. Run along, little hero. Play at rebellion." Crocodile's hook gleamed as he pointed it at Aiko. "But understand something: Alabasta is mine. The kingdom, the throne, the treasure hidden beneath it—all mine. And if you interfere, I'll kill you, your crew, and everyone you've inspired. That's not a threat. It's a promise."
He dissolved into sand, flowing away through the streets, his laughter echoing behind him.
Aiko stood alone in the muddy street, his body screaming in pain, his Devil Fruit powers nearly depleted. He'd fought a Warlord to a stalemate—not a victory, but not a defeat either.
And Nico Robin had saved him.
Or had she? Was warning them about Marines an act of mercy, or just ensuring the fight didn't expose Crocodile's operations?
Before he could analyze further, Aria and Sadi appeared, supporting him on both sides.
"We need to go," Aria said urgently. "Robin was right—Marine ships are approaching, and after that display, every witness in Rainbase will be reporting to authorities."
"Did you..." Aiko gasped, "...did you see where Robin went?"
"Back into Rain Dinners," Sadi confirmed. "But Aiko, we can't approach her now. Crocodile will be watching. We need to retreat, recover, and plan our next move."
She was right. But as they fled through Rainbase's back alleys toward the extraction point where the Hakusetsu waited, Aiko's mind was already working.
Robin had warned them. That meant something. She could have let the fight continue, let Crocodile kill them or let the Marines capture them. Instead, she'd intervened to preserve both parties.
Why?
Rain Dinners - Crocodile's Office
Robin entered to find Crocodile pouring himself a drink, his usual composure slightly cracked.
"You warned them," he said without turning. "Don't think I didn't notice."
"I warned both of you. The Marines were a complication neither side needed." Robin's voice was perfectly calm. "My job is to read Poneglyphs, not participate in your personal vendettas."
"And if I decide the Snow Admiral is too much of a threat? If I decide to hunt him down and eliminate him before he interferes further with our plans?"
"Then you'll do so without my assistance." Robin met his eyes directly. "I work with you because it serves my purposes, Crocodile. If that changes, our arrangement changes."
For a long moment, the Warlord stared at her, calculating. Then he laughed—a genuine sound.
"You're cold, Miss All Sunday. I like that about you. Fine. The Snow Admiral can run free for now. We have bigger concerns—the Operation is reaching its final phase. How long until the rebellion reaches critical mass?"
"Three months, perhaps four. The drought continues, Baroque Works agents are positioning themselves perfectly, and the king grows weaker daily. Soon, the kingdom will tear itself apart, and in the chaos..."
"We'll claim the Poneglyph, learn the location of Pluton, and I'll have the power to challenge the World Government itself." Crocodile's smile was predatory. "Let the Snow Admiral play hero. When this is over, there won't be a kingdom left to save."
Robin said nothing, but as she left to return to her research, her mind was occupied with the battle she'd witnessed.
Danzo Aiko had fought Crocodile—a Warlord with decades of experience—to a standstill. Not through overwhelming power, but through clever tactics, environmental manipulation, and absolute refusal to yield.
More importantly, his reputation suggested he wasn't seeking the Ancient Weapons for power. His wanted poster called him "Enemy of Humanity" for protecting innocents, for defying corrupt orders, for choosing conscience over convenience.
The complete opposite of every person who'd ever offered her "protection."
Could he be trusted? Could anyone be trusted?
She didn't know. But for the first time in twenty years, Nico Robin found herself considering that maybe, just maybe, there was an alternative to the endless cycle of betrayal and survival.
That thought was dangerous. Hope was dangerous.
But she couldn't quite dismiss it.
The Hakusetsu - At Sea
Doc Reiner worked on Aiko's injuries with practiced efficiency. Dehydration, multiple lacerations, bruised ribs, and near-total Haki depletion. It would take days to recover fully.
"You fought a Warlord to a stalemate," Isra said, her tone mixing pride and exasperation. "You actually held your ground against Crocodile. That's..."
"Insane?" Koji offered from across the medical bay.
"I was going to say impressive, but insane works too."
"It wasn't a stalemate," Aiko corrected, wincing as Doc wrapped bandages. "I survived, but I didn't win. If Robin hadn't warned about the Marines, Crocodile would have kept fighting, and I was nearly out of power. Another five minutes and he'd have killed me."
"But you learned his techniques, his patterns, his power level," Kiara pointed out, already taking notes for analysis. "Next time you fight him—"
"There can't be a next time. Not direct confrontation." Aiko accepted water from Yuki, drinking carefully. "Crocodile is too strong in desert environments. To beat him, we'd need perfect conditions or overwhelming backup."
"Or we expose his plan and let Alabasta's forces handle him," Sadi suggested. "A Warlord betraying the kingdom he's supposed to protect—that's grounds for the World Government to revoke his title and send Marines after him."
"Which brings us back to Robin," Aria said. "She's the key to all of this. She knows Crocodile's plan, she can read the Poneglyph, and she just saved our lives. We need to make contact again, properly this time."
"Agreed." Aiko was quiet for a moment, thinking. "But we need leverage. Something to offer her that Crocodile can't. He provides protection and access to one Poneglyph. We need to provide something better."
"Access to all the Poneglyphs," Akira said, pulling out the map with blue pins marking locations. "We know where at least six are rumored to be. If we could guarantee her safety while traveling to all of them, reading them, fulfilling her actual life's mission..."
"She'd have reason to leave Crocodile," Aiko finished. "But we'd need to prove we could actually protect her. One fight against a Warlord where I barely survived isn't exactly confidence-inspiring."
"Unless," Dragon's voice came through a Den Den Mushi that Sadi produced, "you had the entire Revolutionary Army backing that promise. Miss Robin, this is Dragon. I believe we should talk about mutual interests."
Everyone turned to the Den Den Mushi in shock.
"You've been listening?" Isra demanded.
"My operatives reported your confrontation with Crocodile. Impressive work, by the way—few people can claim to have wounded a Warlord and lived." Dragon's tone was approving. "But Miss Robin, I'm extending an official offer: Join forces with the Revolutionary Army and the Wandering Marines. We'll provide protection, resources, and access to every Poneglyph we can locate. In exchange, you read them, share their contents, and help us expose the World Government's foundational lies."
Silence on the other end. Then, a woman's voice—controlled, intelligent, cautious:
"How did you know I was listening to this transmission?"
"Because you're smart enough to have tapped into Sadi's communication channels the moment you learned she was Revolutionary Army. You've been monitoring our movements since Aiko arrived in Alabasta." Dragon's voice carried respect. "That level of caution is exactly why you've survived twenty years. But it's also why you're still alone, still running, still unable to actually accomplish what Ohara died trying to do."
"And you think you can succeed where they failed?"
"I think we have something they didn't—military power to protect scholars, global networks to spread information once we have it, and most importantly, people like Commodore Aiko who'll sacrifice themselves to do what's right. People you could actually trust."
Another long pause. Then: "I'll consider your offer. But I need proof that you're serious. That this isn't another trap, another betrayal waiting to happen."
"Name your test," Aiko said directly. "Whatever you need to trust us, we'll do it."
"Stop Operation Utopia," Robin replied simply. "Crocodile plans to overthrow King Cobra, plunge Alabasta into civil war, and steal the kingdom's Poneglyph in the chaos. If you can prevent that—if you can actually save this kingdom while everyone else is trying to exploit it—then I'll know you're different."
"And if we succeed?" Aiko asked.
"Then we talk. About Poneglyphs, about history, about whether the truth is worth dying for. But only if you prove you're willing to fight for people, not just power."
The transmission ended.
Aiko looked at his crew, seeing his own determination reflected back.
"Then we have our mission," he said. "We stop Operation Utopia. Save Alabasta. And prove to Nico Robin that another way is possible."
"Against a Warlord," Marcus pointed out. "With the Marines hunting us. And limited time before Crocodile acts."
"Yes." Aiko smiled despite his injuries. "So basically, a normal Tuesday for us."
Exhausted laughter rippled through the crew.
They had three months, maybe four, to save a kingdom, stop a Warlord, and recruit the only person alive who could read the world's hidden history.
Impossible odds. But then, they'd been defying impossible odds since the day they chose conscience over convenience.
Why stop now?
END OF CHAPTER 19
Next Chapter: "Operation Utopia - The Warlord's Conspiracy"