Okay so this is my first ever One Piece story.

Don't be gentle with it cuz I want the criticism and the reviews. I'll take flames, or approval. Or whatever else you want to say. I actually have a lot of love for this particular OC because I spent days fleshing out her character. And I hope you guys enjoy this crazy story too. If you aren't a fan of bloody tales, I suggest not reading this story at all.

Need to know information: The story itself takes place a week after the War at Marineford

-italicized words= Sentomaru speaking

-Bold words=Computer or AI is speaking

-Bold & italicized words= Dr. Vegapunk is speaking.

That's everything.

Read and Enjoy~~~~

++Chapter 000: Birth

"I'm turning in my resignation." The whole room fell into a hushed silence.

In the middle of a conference where all of the Admirals, and Vice admirals were present as witnesses, those are the last words anyone wanted to hear. All eyes turned towards the door, where Vice Admiral Monkey D. Garp was standing. His wrinkled face was permanently contorted in a mask of agony. It was like the events of the last few days had drained him of all happiness or virility. News had traveled through the ranks about the death of his grandson, Portgas D. Ace. And about Garp's connection with Monkey D. Luffy. No one had forgotten about the Captain of the Straw hats. There wasn't a Marine present that could banish the image of Ace collapsing in a pool if his own blood, while Luffy sobbed, and held his brother's motionless body.

Aokiji grimaced at the gruesome picture darkening his thoughts, and shook his head lightly. "I don't know if bowing out is the right move. We're a little short on people since the battle at Marineford. We could use competent men." He sent Garp a meaningful look, that was ignored. Unprecedented laughter echoed through the room at his words, and his icy gaze trailed over to the only man in the room that was smiling. "Problem Sakazuki?"

"If Garp was truly competent that Straw Hat bastard would have a matching casket to go along with his brother's. This whole mess happened because Garp is more loyal to his fucking family than he is to the Marines." The Admirals of Magma and Ice glared at each other. They were both becoming irritable for different reasons, and neither were willing to back down.

"This isn't really the time for you two to have a pissing contest." Sengoku, the highest ranking officer in the room rubbed his wrinkled face trying to temper the oncoming headache. It was a constant struggle listening to his Admirals oppose each other at every turn. Sighing dismally, he turned his attention to the person responsible for all of this chaos."Garp, I expect you to have your papers on my desk by tomorrow morning...You'll be reassigned to an instructing position. The newspapers have given you enough fame that we can use your reputation to draw in new recruits."

Garp smiled, a very grim smile that reflected just how old he was. "You're so damn resourceful sometimes..Turning my family's notoriety into a good thing. I'm almost impressed Fleet Admiral." His voice cracked at the terrible joke. It wasn't his usual brand of humor. This was the type of jocular banter that hid all the grief he was feeling behind one broken smile. Sengoku had to look away from his old friend because Garp would never want his pain to be someone else's spectacle.

"Just get out Garp." Sengoku dismissed the grieving Vice Admiral. "Take a few personal days. I don't want to see your face around here." There was a hint of finality in the tone, that discouraged any arguments. It was rare to see the Fleet Admiral abusing his rank like that. It sounded like he didn't give a damn about his old friend, but in reality that's all he was concerned about. Garp stood there numbly in the doorway before a resigned grumble left his lips. He didn't want a few personal days. He wanted to immerse himself in his work and forget the entire debacle that led to his grandson's demise.

"Fine." Luffy's grandfather muttered petulantly. "I'll have the papers on our desk tomorrow before I leave." The words were bitter. Full of raw emotion, and unrepentant anger as Garp swept out of the room. Sengoku watched his old friend stalk out, with an understanding glint in his eyes before turning his attention back to the assembled officers. He addressed them in a tone that commandeered the focus of every man in the room. Looking every inch the authoritative figure he was.

"As for the rest of you. We have suffered substantial losses because of this war, and Aokiji makes a valid point. We are short handed." Sengoku tapped his fingers against the smooth surface of the table, as he tried delegate what needed to be done to the right people. He was too old to deal with the oncoming storm by himself. Time had worn him down, and the position of Fleet Admiral was a heavy burden on his shoulders. He stroked his elongated beard thoughtfully."This is a culminating point in Marine history. Edward Newgate, also known as Whitebeard died in front of Marineford. Portgas D. Ace also perished on the battlefield. And we received an unprecedented visit from Red haired Shanks, and Marshall D. Teach. The balance of power has been upset in the New World and we're going to need an even stronger force to deal with the aftermath of this battle."

He leaned forward so his elbows were pressed against the mahogany surface of the table, and his chin was resting on his templed fingers. "We have claimed that the Marines were victorious, but as it stands we have set ourselves up for an inevitable defeat if we cannot respond to the oncoming threat. The pirates will grow bolder…"

"And we will crush them." Akainu snarled, slamming his fist into the wood splintered beneath the heavy impact, and Sengoku sighed as he mentally calculated the cost of more repairs. Marineford was in shambles already. And Akainu was just adding more unwanted expanses. "You make it sound like the marines are too weak to deal with the scum out there."

"I wouldn't say weak" Sentomaru, the designated scientist for the Marines interjected with a smile. Several pairs of eyes turned to stare at the stocky man who was affluent enough to work side by side with Dr. Vegapunk. His dark bowel cut shadowed his eyes, giving him a rather sinister appearance. "A more apt term would be, we're not innovative enough. In a war, people are expected to die. And in time more people are expected to join and make up for the losses. We anticipated the need for more soldiers after the war, so we increased the production of pacifistas began working on a….side project."

"What sort of side project?" A low gravelly voice demanded sharply. A vice Admiral that went by the name of Tsuru, was glaring at the young scientist with something akin to disgust like his very presence in the meeting room was a joke. Around the base Sentomaru was considered nothing more than a lapdog for Dr. Vegapunk because all he did was guard the good Doctor's experiments, and function as a substitute for the real genius.

Sentomaru sent the aging woman who had addressed him a tolerant glance, "The sort of side project that will benefit the Marines greatly in the future. Ever since the end of the war, Dr. Vegapunk and I have been working on a artificial life form. We have been harvesting the D.N.A and body parts of every prominent figure who died in the war. Hours of work have gone into incubating and reassembling our test subject. Imagine the perfect specimen who has been blessed with a brain already programmed with every active bounty in our then picture how strong it would be if we took the body parts that were still intact from Ace, Whitebeard, and every other legend that met their demise on the battlefield. We could control the perfect fighter, and instill it with one goal-one prerogative: Killing pirates."

Stunned silence ensued after Sentomaru finished speaking.

No one knew what to say.

Or how to react.

The idea of creating a human being for the sole objective of killing pirates was horrifying and brilliant. It would make a significant difference to have someone out there keeping the peace while the Marines recovered from the war. But what would the price be for such a creation? Reassembling corpses. Harvesting dead pirate's D.N.A, it all sounded demented."You have completely lost what little remained of your sanity." Tsuru was the first to break the suffocating silence. She was completely opposed to the idea, and in her opinion such a perverse project would only end badly.

"I'm inclined to agree with her. Something created from the body parts of dead pirates can only be an abomination. We can dress up your experiment in Marine colors, but it will always be a colossal mistake." Akainu said sternly, crossing his arms over his chest as he voiced his disapproval. Anything that came from pirates was bad, and Akainu was convinced this would only blemish the Marine's reputation if anyone ever found out about this experiment.

"That's a hypocritical way of thinking. Kuma is a Shichibukai and we completely re-programmed him. We get more use out of the Pacifistas than we do the actual Marine Soldiers…And no one in the public can deny that. I don't see how this experiment is any different. The artificial life form may be an abomination, but that doesn't mean it won't be useful." Sentomaru shrugged nonchalantly, his shoulders twitching up and down in a quick motion.

"It's funny...I can't tell if you're asking for permission to create this thing, or if you're telling us you already finished the experiment. " Aokiji mused in his typical lazy drawl. Leaning back in his seat, the Admiral of ice peered at the fidgeting scientist with interest. "Which is it?"

Sentomaru chuckled.

"What I'm telling you, Admiral, is that if the Sengoku is interested, we already have a solution to his problem. We can provide the support the Marines need to function in this...trying time. He simply has to wire the appropriate amount of money to Dr. Vegapunk for his services." There was a wolfish smile present as the young scientist finished speaking like he knew he was backing the Fleet Admiral into a corner, and all he had to was wait for him to submit. All eyes turned to the man at the head of the table, trying to gauge what he was going to do. He was in a rut because he didn't want anything to do with the heinous process Sentomaru was describing but at the same time he needed the Pacifistas, and any other resource Dr. Vegapunk was willing to provide.

Sighing at all the scrutiny he was receiving, Sengoku massaged his forehead in frustration. "Son of a bitch." he breathed tiredly.

He was too old for this.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx(A few hours later)xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Dr. Vegapunk this is Sentomaru. He's wiring the money to your account now. And he has given his approval.

Good. Good.

-End connection-

Experiment CV-700 is online.

Consciousness…

A tentative tingling as one became aware of the world for the first time. Comatose limbs slowly processed external sensations-the feeling of the air, the cold unwelcome touch of skin against metal the foreign feeling that came with moving, like one was exercising their muscles for the first time. Flailing parts around haphazardly like a child, without any sense of direction or control gave the illusion of helplessness. And there was a sense of despair and outrage as the first inkling of lucidity began to take root.

Central Nervous system is fully operational.

Sounds. Scents. Blurry images.

All of it was overwhelming. Five senses slowly began to come alive drinking in the surrounding area. Beeping machines were visible in every corner of the room, hooked up to a plethora of wires. Every wire looped around to plug into the wall. And there was a constant hum in the air like every machine was overflowing with energy. One hazel eye cracked open and perused the condensed space. Fluttering open and closed without a hint of recognition as blinding lights blinked in quick succession.

Respiratory and Optical senses seem to be working.

There was incomprehension and a lack of understanding as the darkness was left behind, and replaced for total coherency. Nothing looked familiar. Everything was too loud. Too bright. Too offensive to the underdeveloped senses. A metal probe dug into warm flesh Unhooking stitches. Peeling back layers of skin, and sliding neatly into a network of blood vessels. There was a muted scream as red liquid trickled onto the metal table. Unable to understand what was happening. Unfamiliar with the sensation of pain. Screams remained buried in a newly constructed voice box.

It seems her body is rejecting certain limbs. I'm going to have to amputate them, and replace them with metal prototypes.

Words that meant nothing echoed in the room.

One thing was abundantly clear though. In the span of a few seconds, the pain increased tenfold. Panic ensued as one hazel eye cut over to the side. A shadowed figure stood hovering nearby, bloody tools in hand. Red droplets fell on alabaster skin. Like a permanent stain. Trembling began, as connections were being made between the overwhelming agony, and the ominous figure towering over the operating table. The sharp edge of his tool began descending into the bloody limb once again, and this time he was actually carving a horizontal path through the skin. Everything was new and sensitive so until he was able to saw through the nerve endings, every slice of the blade was excruciating. He severed muscles, sinews, and bone until all that was left was a pool of blood and a stub of flesh that was painted red.

The pain was staggering.

And elicited silent tears that would never be acknowledged.

Holding up the decapitated limb in the light, the shadowed figure shook his head morosely. "Your body accepted one of Fire fist's arms...But not the other. How curious." It was a quiet mumble that did nothing to sooth the misery seeping into every pore.

Now hold still.

Blood splashed against the walls as cold metal was latched onto tattered skin.

Limbs thrashed.

Red liquid trailed from pale trembling lips.

Convulsions racked the narrow frame as the first flames of true torment became overwhelming.

It was an eternity of being afflicted by science, and being ripped open from hip to sternum. A cycle began of going into epileptic shock,flat lining and being constantly revived. It was a dance with death that went on for hours.

Until finally the seizures stopped.

The blood dried.

And the tools were put aside.

Ligament remodeling is complete.

Dr. Vegapunk do you want me to show it to Sengoku?

Maybe later he'll enjoy a little preview later. I did specify it to look feminine just so he would approve...I still have to finish modifying a few things. And clean it up.

More words that meant nothing. The one hazel eye was no longer curiously flitting around the room. It was squeezed tightly shut to block out everything in the immediate vicinity. Slender shoulders were quaking in pain and confusion, because being brutally dismembered was the first thing that happened upon awakening. The metallic taste of blood was constantly there. A coppery flavor that never seemed to die away.

Cold invasive hands traveled up and down the tender skin, wiping off the crusted blood.

Experiment CV-700 will be fully operational soon.

Pulled out of a state of a dazed complacency, there was a sensation of being pulled upwards off the table. Nausea, and dizziness,were surging forward in waves at the unexpected motion. Since nothing had ever been consumed, nothing came out except a violent series of coughs, and droplets of blood. Dry heaving saliva and a crimson substance on the table, there was a visible shudder before going utterly still. Clumps of red decorated the metal surface as a perfect upright position was found.

Long cables were hooked into the metal exoskeleton, forcing the flawless posture to remain in place.

The long chords kept the spine ramrod straight and began to hum as they funneled electric energy through their rubber coils.

Power levels at 10%

"Dr. Vegapunk are you sure it'll be ready soon?..It looks monstrous"

Those same embodied voices. Speaking only to each other. Barely acknowledging there was someone else in the room. It was an odd experience being a spectator. Listening, but never speaking. Absorbing what was being discussed but not trusting one's own vocal chords to work. Pained screams had only disintegrated into silence so why would fully formed sentences work?

"That's because it's covered in blood. Once it gets hosed down, you'll see what a gem it is...CV-700 tell him how competent you are. Speak."

One hazel eye cracked open.

There was no understanding or comprehension there, just the dull reflection of the two men waiting for an answer was mirrored in the depths of that brown eye. Half formed ideas hovered dangerously close to the surface. Words were just innate expressions of sound that formed a coherent thought. Thoughts were just non verbalized desires. The first true desire that one could ever feel is hunger, or exhaustion, or a need for warmth. None of these instinctive needs were uttered.

No.

CV-700 boldly glanced up-meeting the gaze of it's creator for the first time.

"I want to die."

That's the end for now. I hope it wasn't too much for anyone.

Keep an eye out for the next chapter. It's coming soon with lots of fun stuff xD