Chapter Text
Five Days before the scheduled execution of Portgas D Ace
“We'll arrive at Punk Hazard within the hour, Doctor Surridge.” Vergo said. “A hazmat suit will be provided for you once we've docked.”
The middle aged woman nodded slightly, her gaze briefly flickering up from the files in her lap to acknowledge him. “Thank you, sir.” She said – out of politeness rather than addressing him by rank. Her voice is quiet and rough. It had been a long, long time since she slept peacefully. “Might I have another cup of jasmine tea? The seas around here are rather rough...”
The man nodded ever so slightly. There was a bit of ham from his lunch stuck to his face, but Delia had ceased pointing such things out a few days ago. It would always be replaced by something else by the next meal time and he never managed to notice. “Of course. I'll have one of the ship hands bring it to your room.” With those words he turned and walked out.
Delia watched him go for a moment, then returned her attention to the windows. “The weather's as wretched as I remember,” she murmured absently. It was storming, rain slicing against the windows and pitching the ship up and down on minor waves – minor by New World standards, at least. After years of living in the East Blue she'd lost her resistance to its wild, tempestuous nature; or perhaps she was just getting old.
Perhaps not. Mr Edward Newgate had kept himself in better shape than she... though she supposes he hadn't done anything he regretted as much as she did. It was a stranger's guess, of course, but her intuition had improved much in her age.
She frowned, and cast a glance at the newspaper sitting on her cabin's coffee table. The thing that had revealed the short window of opportunity she had to even slightly undo her great mistake. The World Government was going to war with Whitebeard. Oh, they hadn't made any declarations or admitted that's what they were doing; they'd merely captured one of his sons and were going to commit to the rule of the law by executing him for piracy. That made them the protectors of Justice and Whitebeard the aggressor trying to overcome them in the name of a monster.
Delia scoffed and glared harshly at the paper. “What a painstaking sham,” she muttered.
The boat rocked on another wave. She grimaced and grabbed the various files in her lap to prevent the papers within from flying everywhere; she was mostly successful, but several pictures slid out and scattered across the floor. Muttering some choice words she'd learned from practicing chemists, the woman slid out of her seat and began collecting them one at a time. Further waves nearly caused her to fall over completely; not having been a combat medic, she'd never been trained to be a strong woman.
In one way or another.
Delia picked up the last two pictures and stared at them. One was an image of herself; barely nineteen, red hair pinned back and blue eyes serious as the grave, goggles strapped on, her lab coat pristine and bearing the World Government's sigil proudly. It had just gone through the laundry – after the last session it had been in not state to be in a recruitment photo. Gods, but it was like looking at a stranger. A young lady she might have passed on the street once but didn't know anything about except maybe her name and her desire to be a doctor.
All for a lie.
The other picture had been paper-clipped to it. To make sure she never forgot him. He appeared in all her nightmares, but she still feared her mind letting him go. To reform itself to fit that comforting lie she'd clung to as that young, hopeful doctor who wanted to save the innocent.
“Alber,” she murmured.
These images were supposed to be destroyed to maintain the lies, but she'd squirrelled it away along with whatever files she could save before the rest were sent to Egghead Island. Within the image was a boy with black wings, bronze skin and snow white hair bound in chains, shoulders bent and body language defiant. It was the 'before' picture of a 'durability' experiment.
She'd kept the 'after' one too, for a while, as she'd uselessly pondered the possibility of whistle blowing, of finding some reporter who wasn't in the Government's pocket who could get the truth out fast enough and loudly enough that they wouldn't be able to suppress it. It was just as well that she'd never tried; no civilian reporter had been willing to stick their neck out and she had none of the clout needed to reach 'Big News' Morgans, much less attempt to convince him to publish anything.
After that, she'd disliked keeping the photo of him in the wretched state they'd left him in. It felt like mocking him. Mocking those who hadn't survived.
Delia stood up and slowly returned to her seat. She set some of the newer files aside, the ones she'd gotten ahold of thanks to her last promotion, and opened the darker one weathered by time spent hidden in the floor under her bed.
The Lunarian Studies.
“In the name of Justice.” Delia muttered. “Pah. I can't believe how many of us actually believed that. Believed it deeply enough that they won't even call it dirty business or the ends justifying the means. When pirates raze an island, they're demons made flesh, but when we exterminate entire peoples it's justice.'”
She clipped the two photos to the first page, the one that held a bigger mugshot of Alber after his imprisonment and the beginnings of his medical data. It went on for pages and pages. She'd been assigned to him after her last... six? Seven?... subjects had died. He'd been so resilient, clung to life so stubbornly, ferociously.
He lived long enough to destroy her naive belief in the world, and survive beyond her.
“Here you are, miss.”
Delia blinked and looked up. One of the deckhands was placing the tea cup she'd requested on the table. They were already dressed in a full body hazmat suit; Ceasar's reputation proceeded itself, clearly. They must be new to be so worried about it. “Thank you, young man.” she said quietly.
He looked briefly over at the folder in her lap. Despite his full face mask, she could see a little curiosity and confusion in his body language; probably surprised that he couldn't recognize one of the government's many dirty secrets, she wagered. “Do you need anything else?” He asked.
I need to enact Justice one last time. But don't fret... I think I can handle things from here. “Don't worry about me. With this, I'm as fortified as I need to be.” Delia said, giving him a motherly sort of smile. She'd never had kids. Her relationships couldn't survive her guilt, her demons. Perhaps it was for the better, though, that someone like her hadn't brought life into the world.
The young man nodded and hurried out of the room. Delia's lip quirked, a little bemused that Caesar Clown was so eager to have gentle, quick to please types as his minions. She'll grant that it makes them easy to control – she would know – but you sacrificed strength and initiative in favor of loyalty there.
She looked at the file again. Alber was listed as Biological Material L #15 – the original wording was just visible beneath her violent efforts to black them out with ink. Underneath it, sometime later, she'd written his real name. She'd heard it late on night when he'd been talking to himself.
Exhaling, Delia flipped through the pages. All the results of the hideous experiments they'd preformed, her observations, the questions she'd answered like the viability of cross breeding with fishmen or giants. Finally she came to a later edition; not professional files, but a series of wanted posters from the first appearance up until to the most recent.
Wanted Dead or Alive: King the Wildfire, 1.39 Billion
Delia stared at the image for a minute, before giving it a crooked sad smile. “I'll see you soon,” she promised. She took a deep drink of tea to settle her stomach and closed up the file.
She went without the hazmat suit in the end, following directly after Vergo upon their touching down on Punk Hazard. It turned out that she didn't need it; the air on the island was clear. Delia laughed slightly when she took this in, which got her an odd look from Vergo, but she'd patted him on the arm and said that you found humor in stranger things when you got older.
The folders sat comfortably in her bulging bookbag. The day she'd seen the newspaper, she'd filed her resignation immediately, cleared out her house, and tracked down Vergo as soon as she can. It was a good thing, it turned out, that he'd once caught her anguished and cursing Vegapunk's name – it made Caesar interested in recruiting her.
She needed Caesar to contact Joker. Joker was the only person she knew of who had a direct line to the Beast Pirates.
“I remember there being a lot more wildlife, the last time I was here.” Delia observed as they approached the building. “Even Kaido sacking the island didn't manage to destroy it this much.”
“This island is a sturdy land,” Vergo said with a shrug. “It survived Kaido and the bomb, and I believe it can survive further still. It's the perfect home for scientists wishing to push the boundaries of what's possible.”
Delia balled one hands into fists. “Yes. It's quite the gate to hell; I'll bet you can find the garbage chute through which myself and the others discarded our souls if you look hard enough.”
Vergo raised one eyebrow but didn't comment on this. She appreciated his professionalism, despite his being a pirate mole. It would have been frustrating to have to deal with constant needling, mockery and who knew what else. She didn't have the time for that.
Five days. It's enough time for a crew to muster and move with strong motivation, but it's still a tight window.
Delia followed Vergo in silence through the metal hallways of Punk Hazard. It was like walking into a nightmare; she'd walked every twist and turn in her sleep, the blood that soaked this island crying out for retribution for her crimes. She hadn't come here to exonerate herself – such things were far from her mind.
She'd come here to wrest the newborn Lunarians out of the government's grasp before they could make them slaves. In the pursuit of that Justice, anything was permitted.
“Shololololo... Doctor Surridge!” Caesar Clown's gas powers hissed and sang as Delia entered the main control room along with her guard. The repulsive doctor grinned at her, clapping his hands together and beaming at her. “It's so nice to have such a renowned woman like you join our little endeavours here. With your long and storied history in medical research, I was all a flutter when you said that you had a world changing revelation to bring me.”
“I didn't mean it for you alone.” Delia responded, polite but clipped. “I do need your help, however.”
Caesar frowned. “Ehhh? What do you mean by that?”
“I'm to understand that you're in contact with the underground broker known as Joker,” Delia said. Caesar blanched ever so slightly, so she kept going. “I've heard that he has a direct line to the Beast Pirates as one of their weapons suppliers. He speaks to the Emperor, Kaido, directly?”
Immediately feeling secure after a moment of uncertainty, a sickly smirk crawled across Caesar Clown's face. “Shololololo... you've very well informed, doctor. What does an upstanding lady like you wish to discuss with my benefactors?”
“Don't call me that,” Delia said, glowering at him. “I'm no more upstanding than you are.” Her hand went into his bookbag. “Can you speak directly to Kaido, or do you need to go through Joker?”
She felt a faint sense of satisfaction when Clown cringed at the idea before rapidly recovering. “Oh no no no no, I could never, I merely provide him with goods and tools through out mutual partner.” Caesar waved his hands frantically. “I could get you in contact with Joker, but he's quite busy at the moment, so it would have to be very important-”
Delia removed two files labelled 'S Hawk' and 'S Crocodile' from her bookbag and hefted them pointedly. “Does the chance to relieve the World Government of their upcoming line of super soldiers count?” She responded.
Clown stared at the files in silence for a moment. Briefly he attempted to grab them out of her hands, but she withheld them. You're an intermediary. The person who deserves to have these files and rescue the children grown in vats is in Wano. “Does it?” She prodded.
After a minute of whining and wheedling, she got her phone call. Joker heard her pitch, laughed so hard she thought he might pass out, and transferred her on to Kaido's contact snail.
Onigashima was a rowdy place.
There was always a riot of sound within it; partying, laughter, jeering, strategist for future battles, the crashing sounds of people sparring and knocking each other through walls, moans of pleasure drifting from various half closed rooms, the clatter of emptied drink bottles and cans of food being discarded... Kaido's private island was always active. In the few times it was quiet, it was usually because almost everyone was passed out drunk or had gone out on orders.
This wasn't to say that the Beast Pirates didn't have a comfortable equilibrium. The general goings on were comfortable background noise to them. Not so loud as to drown out all reason, and it never denoted trouble. Shouts of indignation or anger weren't uncommon, but they were usually quickly dealt with.
So when a howl of grief and primal rage shook the whole island everyone stopped dead in their tracks. Conversations died, fights froze in place, food was abandoned and the even the tiny pin dared not drop lest it be heard.
Page One dropped the crate he'd been carrying on his foot, all thoughts fleeing his mind. “Was that...?” He uttered into the ringing silence. He couldn't finish his sentence, because while he recognized the voice, the connections refused to form in his brain.
That voice sounded like King.
But that couldn't be right. King didn't scream. He didn't shout or rage or even raise his voice when he needed to be heard. His very presence was like a still lake and it was running joke among the crew just how unmovable he was. Queen needled him about it, calling him emotionless, dead inside, and Ice King; most others had shrugged and chalked it up to a swordsman thing. All the samurai they met were humorless buzzkills, after all!
King was their superior. They knew his voice as sure as their own. The scream that rang through the building and echoed in the quiet belonged to him. It dug into their minds like iron hooks. The Beast Pirates had heard such horrible anguish before; they were the conquerors of Wano. It had never touched any of them until this exact moment...
But it was one of them making that sound. A scream loaded with so much anguish a living soul trembled to hear it; one that started with denial of a horrible truth staring them in the face that bled into loss and grief that couldn't be conveyed in worlds – only an animalistic expression of emotion.
That anguish then transformed into rage... rage that burned islands to ash. The divine wrath that the gods unleashed when their patience ran its course and they descended to raze the earth. It was rage they associated with Kaido, not his quiet, loyal second in command.
“What the hell happened...?” Page uttered, pale. His sister stared bug eyed in sort of the direction that the cry had come from, her usual boisterousness quieted.
In the privacy of Kaido's room, King sank onto his hands and knees. His breath sucked in and out unevenly, the flames on his back snapping and crackling harshly in response to his distress. The snail had passed out from the haki explosion, temporarily dropping the call. The man didn't seem to have noticed.
Kaido stared silently at his only friend for a long moment. He pondered the implications, what he stood to gain from it, and what he'd always known his loyal swordsman had been subjected to. The decision was one of the easiest of his life to make.
His massive hand landed gently on King's shoulder; a gesture of sympathy and camaraderie that no others received from the brutal warlord. “King,” he rumbled low in his throat. The slight shudder of muscles was the only sign that his friend had heard him. “They'll die for this.”
It was a statement, and more than that it was a promise. Cause and effect had been curiously reversed; the World Government's crumbling had been decided; it was merely to be decided precisely how that was going to come about.
King's exhaled harshly, the sound rattling in his lungs. Then he sat up and clawed at his helmet like it was suffocating him until it came unlatched, letting him remove it and throw it across the room. Kaido kept his hand on his shoulder, anchoring the other man to the present, as King violently ran one hand through his hair and pulled hard on the silver strands. Then he slowly lifted himself, sitting back on his heels and putting his hands on his knees.
“I want to take those children back,” King said into the quiet. "I can't bear for them to be made slaves."
“They're yours.” Kaido responded without a moment's hesitation.
“I want to take Vegapunk hostage.” King continued, staring straight ahead. “He can bring my people back...that delays his execution for now.”
Kaido smiled slightly, pleased. He'd been concerned that King would want to rip the man to shreds for creating Lunarian slaves and thought he might have to harshly assert his decision on the matter. “Five days,” he said. “That is more than enough time.”
King nodded. He was still in a daze. Silently he reached for his helmet again, only for Kaido to put a hand on his arm. “Do not hide yourself any more,” The captain rumbled. “When this week is over, the world government will have no power to threaten you with.”
King hesitated for a moment, turning the thought over his head. Then he nodded and rose to his feet. Kaido's smirk widened.
Most of the Beast Pirates had been gravitating towards the central hub of Onigashima in the ringing silence after the cry, so when the summons bell started ringing harshly they merely picked up the pace. Men and women poured into the large room, jostling for space and climbing on top of each other in an effort to see better – or perhaps wanting better access to the hallways. If King – stoic, frigid King – was in a terrible temper over something, then they could only imagine what kind of a state Kaido would be in. Page One and Ulti got to the front with some pushing and shoving along with their status as members of the Flying Six. “Do either of you know what the hell that was about?” Who's Who hissed, leaning over them.
“No! Why would I know anything?!” Page hissed back frantically. “Was that really King we heard earlier?!”
“No doubt about it,” Who's Who responded, twisting a cigar roll beyond repair between his fingers. “Thought there was no way, but I know that voice.”
“What could have possibly caused such an outburst from him of all people?” Black Maria wondered, swaying from side to side. Page cautiously took two steps away from her, subtly. “I have never seen that man lose himself like that.”
Bernadetta shook her head. She'd haft shifted into her raptor form and now she was tapping her foot rapidly like she was waiting for something to explode - or someone. "Trust me, King's got plenty of rage inside him. He just keeps it locked up." She said. "Whatever just happened, it's really fucking bad..."
“What did you do, Queen?” Sasaki huffed.
The other Lead Performer looked towards him made an expression somewhere between indignant and scandalized. “Why are you assuming it's me?! I've been the one telling King this whole time that his repressed shtick wasn't healthy! If anything I've been trying to help!”
“Help. Right.” Who's Who said, his voice drier than Alabasta's deserts.
“Listen here, you-!”
“QUIET!"
The All Star's jaws locked shut in unison as they instinctively dropped into respectful poses, kneeling with one fist on the ground, waiting for orders. Kaido strode out onto the balcony above them radiating malicious excitement and purpose; following at his side is King. Gasps of shock and confusion ring around the room as they looked at the silver haired man and realized who he was; precious few of them had ever seen him without his helmet on, and even fewer recognized the traits that he had been concealing.
Queen, naturally, is the first to find his voice. “I thought you were on the right side of fifty, King!” He called out, trying to make a joke of things. “Or do you just like the old man look?”
Kaido slammed one hand on the railing and glared down at his scientist with a look that could kill. Instantly Queen shut up and looked everywhere but at his fellow Lead Performer, who was ignoring his jibe as usual.
“Good. You're all present.” Kaido said, sweeping his gaze over the packed room, hallways and balconies. “This is a mustering for all but a skeleton crew of the Beast Pirates. All of you who are captains, you are to prepare the ships with food and munitions. All but you, Queen. I require you to keep control of Wano while we are gone.”
Babble erupted amongst the confused crew, people talking on top of each other as questions blur the air. Kaido uttered an irritated huff and held up his hand for quiet.
Queen's mouth opened and shut several times before he could muster up a response. Very carefully taking a breath and focusing on not stuttering, the man called back “Of course I'll hold down the fort, Kaido, when have I ever failed you? I just – a full mustering?! What's happened?”
Kaido's eyes flashed. “The World Government has created a project called the Seraphim. As is their way, the hypocrites are in the midst of creating slave soldiers for themselves.”
He held his hand out toward King. “These are no mere humans drugged to be unable to feel pain, or obedient Marines with weapons fused to their hands, however. Years ago, the Government slaughtered the people who lived atop the Red Line to make room for the eyesore they call Maejoris! Those people were the Lunarians; powerful, adaptable, capable of surviving in every environment this world can offer, they were seen as gods! And yet before you stands the last of them, the only one who's strength and determination saw him survive their mass slaughter – my first mate, King!”
Even more babble erupted at this, hundreds of Beast Pirates and serving staff alike pivoting and staring at the silent spectre with new eyes as they processed this. “Unbelievable...! This is true?” One whispered.
His partner bobbled his head furiously. “T-There's no doubt about it! Silver hair, golden skin, black wings and the power to conjure fire without a devil fruit... the world government offers millions of berries just for the report of a sighting of a Lunarian! This is must be why...”
“Why those smug, puritanical shits!” One female shrieked. “They've been prancing around all this time calling themselves the saviours of the world – they have the balls to act like they're better than us with that in their closet?!”
“I'm not done,” Kaido said, causing a surprised silence to fall. “They committed this massacre claiming that the deaths of the Lunarians were necessary. But in secret, they have commissioned Doctor Vegapunk to create clones – Lunarian children birthed in artificial wombs, born from the DNA of the dead and that of the Seven Warlords. These children are to serve as their automated warriors; replaceable, expendable slaves to fight battles for them until they break and are replaced.”
King's hands balled into fists.
“I intend to discuss this with Vegapunk,” he intoned with barely controlled rage. An awed hush rushed over the crowd. “And to retrieve those children before they meet that twisted fate.”
“Prepare to set course,” Kaido commanded. “We are going to sack Egghead Island.”
Queen gibbered, trying several times to wrap his mind around the enormity of this declaration. “Kaido!” He said, his voice higher than usual. “I see this as a worthwhile and meaningful endeavor but how are we to get past the entirety of the forces the Marines have to bear to wrest the doctor and his crea – err – the children from them? They won't give them up without a fight!”
Kaido laughed deeply. It was a rough, booming sound that made everyone instinctively flinch backwards except for King. “They won't be there.” He said with mirth. “None of them will be. A short while ago, one of Whitebeard's precious sons betrayed him and sold his second division commander out to the Marines.”
“Seriously?!” Ulti shrieked, joining many in their disbelief. “Somebody betrayed that sick old man?! How's it physically possible to be that stupid?!”
“Oh, that not-so-clever bastard's so fuckin' dead,” Who's Who uttered, shaking his head slowly.
“That stupidity is our gain,” Kaido responded, grinning now. You could see the dragon in his face despite the fact he hasn't even started to transform. “In five days they're going to parade that boy in front of the world to hold a public execution. Assuming Sengoku hasn't slipped rapidly into senility-” this gets a raucous laugh from the crowd “-this will double as a 'trap' for Whitebeard, when he comes roaring into Marineford to retrieve his son. To this end, they've brought all of their troops of any value to that one place. All of them.”
He waited for the realization to drop. It didn't take more than a few seconds.
“Holy shit.” Page One's mouth dropped open. “Holy shit, we're going to walk into Egghead. They've handed it to us on a silver platter!”
His observation well and truly opened the floodgates. Many started to hoot and holler with laughter and rapidly escalating excitement, others were slack jawed in amazement at this blatant oversight and how easily they'll be able to exploit it. “What are we waiting for?!” A voice in the crowd said eagerly. “Let's go get them!”
“With Vegapunk working for us, who could stop us?!” Another voice asked eagerly. “We'll walk into Mariejois and raze it to the ground!”
“This is our era now!”
“Cloned from the Seven Warlords? You mean we'll have our own Boa Hancock?!” “You did hear that they'll just be little kids, right?” “Right, he did say that. Aw, dammit!”
Kaido laughed again, pleased to see his people already working themselves into a frenzy. “Go to the ships! Get all of them prepared for muster, including my own!” He bellowed. Immediately pirates surged out of the hall, stampeding over each other. “Pack food and munitions only! There will be much plunder to take from the island of the future! Queen, with me! We must discuss Wano's security while Egghead is put to siege.” Queen groaned and bowed his head, making his way for the stairs.
Kaido turned and put a hand on King's shoulder again. “My friend, go. Oversee the preparations, vent your rage on the mountainsides; whatever will drain the energy from you enough to sleep well. Those children will be taken back from them alive and well. You have my word.”
King gave him a look as powerful as the one he'd given him when Kaido had set him free so long ago... perhaps it was even more emotional now. He put his hand on top of his captain's and squeezed tightly, shaking his head. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you so much.”
“What do you wish to have done with that woman?” Kaido inquired, seeing it as the last thing to touch upon before they set out.
His friend bowed his head in thought. “I want her alive and unharmed until I'm face to face with her. Her fate is mine to decide.” He said adamantly.
“As you wish.”
King exhaled and dropped his arms to his sides. Feeling more alive than he had in years, he launched himself from the balcony and headed to the shipyard.
In the cradle of Egghead, seven white haired children paused almost as one and tilted their heads in curiosity... a strange feeling passed through them. Like someone was calling out to them.