The clouds dash apart, and out pours harsh

The pile of bones clacked a shanty up on the crow's nest.

The tears splash raw, on wine-dark marsh

This crew had a pile of bones as musician. Satan was plying a violin.

The years run loose, and the sea unfurlss

This was the crew he'd offered his heart to. The Straw Hat Pirates.

The sea and me we plea and dance in whirls

How… poignant?

Law stood there on deck—silently, of course, apart from the occasional admonition to "be on guard." To anyone without Luffy's amazing perception, they might have written the man off as an immobile gargoyle, perhaps only prowling about when the sun was down. But he stood poised with a crackling energy, like an actor about to spring onto stage. He was no robot.

Franky, on the other hand.

"Do you have a telescope hair!?" Luffy urged. "Make telescope hair!"

Franky, however, was far too engrossed with his self-appointed grandest of tasks. Caesar wasn't going to stick himself into that barrel.

"Master" raised his ugly head, which sported a boot mark very like Usopp's. "Why do you even care what Dressrosa looks like, it's not like you lot will ever be remembered on the Grand Line once Joker has his say!"

"Didn't our captain tell you?" Robin ara'd, seated serenely on Franky's lap. "We've heard it all before."

"No, he's right," Law urged, gripping his sword ever more tightly. "Be on guard."

"Ahh, don't worry!" said Luffy, poking the gargoyle on the chest. "We're the greatest alliance!" Shishishishi

Companions past, shore Sunny's wi-iings

As the treasures on the map of the stately Pirate King!

All treasures on the map of the stately Pirate King!

"You're all so certain of yourselves, that you'll be Pirate King!" Caesar trilled. "Dreamers like you, you'll never make it! You're all just playing into the hands of the schemers!"

Caesar writhed in Franky's steel fingers, practically spitting at the dreamers. He was spite made gas made flesh.

"I think someone's going to need to calm Mr. Scientist down a little," Robin observed.

"Oiii, Brook!"

The skeleton vaulted down with a very light thid.

"How may I be of service, o Pirate Liege?" Yohohoho

"Gassy's a pain. Put him to sleep or something!"

Brook regarded his instrument of otherworldly ice. "Leave him to me. I'll put those cries to rest."

Caesar gulped.

Deftly, sheathed. "I'll soothe this savage soul."

Fufufufufu

The Greatest Alliance

The fish in the aquarium didn't blink.

Caesar was jealous of their unblinking, unfeeling fish-ness. For he was reduced to a puddle, wriggling at the feet of the skeleton whose legs towered for miles.

Brook offered his phalanges. "Mr. Clown, stand up. Let's be gentlemen and chat."

"What do you know!?" he wept. "Can you know what it's like to have everything stripped away from you in a single day!?"

Brook paused. Caesar thought for a second he could see something swirl in those empty sockets.

"Even in the underworld, there is always a light."

"…Hah!?" Caesar seethed. "Don't talk to me about the underworld, you—"

"What was your light, Mr. Clown?"

"What are you on about!?" Caesar couldn't stand imprecise language.

"Allow me to paint it for you." Out popped his blade. "I hope it will inspire you, yohohoho."

The fishes' eyes bulged slightly at the wispy ice blotting its tip.

"I have a friend."

Ahh. Now Caesar understood. He had a friend. In high places.

"Joker is probably stringing your friend along, too—"

"My friend… is a whale."

"Huh?"

"…The size of a mountain. If you don't mind my being presumptuous, I think he can fend for himself."

Now he knew this crew was crazy… but wait. Wait.

Something clicked within Caesar. He quit wriggling, handcuffs digging.

"Go on." Information was never a bad thing.

Brook flicked his wrist, and the ice danced… crystalizing. Drawing a picture.

"All throughout three score years of hardship, Laboon has been my light."

The whale's wide mirthy teeth were infectious. The ice sparkled brilliantly.

"Even the underworld has life, Mr. Clown. I followed the light, and now my world is a banquet of lights I could have scarcely imagined."

Caesar found himself smiling. "I... I had a light."

"Oh?"

"Smiley…" He sniffed.

"Smiley? I see. He sounds like a jovial fellow."

"He was a wad of gas," Caesar reminisced happily. "One of my greatest works. He was a lovely thing. Great, soft eyes. A membrane of peer-attested luxuriousness. Tremendous spitting range!"

"…Oh?"

"In the tadpole stage I would hug him to me, to stew in our vapors. He loved me," he added. "So full of potential, and, and life."

Brook recalled running from the blob.

"It was certainly lively," he responded diplomatically.

"Smiley disappeared, though…" Sniff.

"I have lost many, but their lights never die completely as long as you keep them here." Brook opened his skull hatch and pointed inside.

"I see… I see!" It was true. Caesar understood the procedure. He could always concoct a new Smiley. And his memories with the first would bolster him all the way, much like the light of the tube of fluorescent algae he needed for Step 16.

"So you see, you have a far more important friend than any warlord or moneyed broker. You have the light in your heart, a light after which to stumble and rush."

Caesar hooked a horn, awkwardly, onto Brook's hand and allowed himself to be hoisted to his feet.

"And that, Mr. Clown… is the greatest alliance."