He was rather pensive. In a carriage, escorted by the Navy, sat one of the Warlords of the Sea, the feared pirate who had incurred an 81 million bounty placed on his head, and the clandestine leader of the secretive organization known as Baroque Works: Sir Crocodile. But now, he was just a common hoodlum, an ordinary lawbreaker, a petty pirate, a common crook chained and hauled to the great prison, Impel Down, where he would be rotting in his cell until finally death would put an end to his long and miserable life: a complete opposite of the scenario that he had envisioned in the grand tombs of Alabasta as the pillars had begun to crumble and with it the rule of Nefeltari Cobra.

His state of mind was beyond anger and sadness; nearly devoid of any emotions at all. The two emotions he did have were both emotions he had long since experienced, feelings his mind had long forgotten. The first was that of incredulity. The disbelief he felt was akin to a brat finding out for the first time that his parents were not his real parents. For five years, he had masterminded everybody and everything that appeared before him with the absolute confidence that one day the riffraff he had to deal with on a daily basis would come to fruition in the form of him as King of Alabasta and the holder of the ancient super weapon, Pluton. As fulfilling as this would be, his kingship would merely be a stepping stone to his ultimate objective: to gain the military might of both the Alabastan kingdom and Pluton and topple the World Government, becoming the Pirate King. And yet he had just about succeeded with the former until a two-bit pirate wearing a straw hat, who had somehow cheated death twice, confronted him when his success was about to become complete. And this is where the other feeling he had, drifted to the forefront of his mind: the feeling of failure.

And not failure on the levels of a simple letdown, but that of somebody ripping out all your pride, glory, determination, and ambitions out of your body and setting them to fire in front of your eyes while you sit watching, frozen and helpless.

Sir Crocodile had felt this feeling once before and had vowed to never feel it again. He had felt it at an incident that he had, until now, tried best to forget.

Like many brats in this harsh world, Crocodile had a hard childhood. At the age of 6, he was the youngest child in his hometown and it was this simple fact that made him the punching bag of all the school gangs and rowdy "tough guy" adolescents that were unfortunately, his neighbors.

"Where you going, crybaby?" one of the little punks said as they chased him. Crocodile would always try his best to out run them but while his conditioned legs could outrun those a few years older than him, the ones who had at least ten years on him would always catch him.

One of the boys caught up to him and pushed him to the floor. The combination of the force of the push and Crocodile's sprint made him fall hard enough to cut a huge mark across his face. The cut would be deep enough to leave a scar stretching from one ear to the other, a scar that he would have for the rest of his life.

"Hey baby croc, you got dirt on my hands. Whatcha gonna do to make up for it?" The punk proceeded to lift Crocodile upside down by his ankles and jerk him up and down until all the money Crocodile had in his pockets fell to the floor. "25 Berries, not bad for a shrimp like you."

"Give me my money back!" he yelled to the punk walking away.

The punk turned around, wearing a smile of pure smugness and sarcasm. "You want some more?"

It was one of many incidents that would take place in his childhood.

But Crocodile's self esteem was never shaken. The bullies might have bruised and battered him but they would never break him. It was because of this that he would never tell anyone, even his parents, about his abuse. It was already bad enough that he was in a position of weakness but the idea that he would actually admit that he was too weak to be harassed by those cretins? Never.

He always knew that one day he would be powerful. That one day it would be the others who would be on the receiving end. Ever since he was young, he had an indescribable feeling of greatness. And a door opened to his future, the day that he, sitting on a cliff while looking at the wide sea, spotted a Devil Fruit floating along the coast.

The fact that it was a Devil Fruit was undeniable. With its unique spirals, it drifted along the sea which rejected it as it would those who ate the fruit. Hardly an hour passed by until Crocodile had identified the fruit as the Suna Suna no Mi. A second later, he bit into the foul tasting fruit, making the fruit's power his. The power needed to become something.

He mastered his fruit's ability rapidly. By the time he was 16, he could maintain his body in its intangible sand form, create blades of sand, even mummify living humans. Now he just needed an appropriate subject to put his skills to the test. The memory of the punks in the village bullying him came to him.

Crocodile smiled. After all, payback is a mother.

From this point on, time passed well for him albeit beginning with tragedy. His parents died when he was 21 and it was then that he made an oath to himself that he would never be weak again. He assumed the title 'Sir' befitting of his noble heritage and quickly rose through the ranks as a pirate. His skill and prowess ultimately lead him to believe he was undefeatable. And that it was time to dethrone the pinnacle of power:

Edward Newgate 'Whitebeard', the man closest to being the Pirate King.

And what took place next was his most dreadful memory.

All of the youthful bravado and complete confidence he had in his power that he challenged Whitebeard with came crashing down. It wasn't even close. Whitebeard took everything: his deadliest attacks, his arm, and most of all his pride; he reduced him to the pathetic 6 year old boy he was back in his hometown. And at the end of it all, Whitebeard didn't even consider him, Sir Crocodile, a life worth taking. It was a dark day for him.

That day changed him. He no longer was the brash, reckless, swashbuckling pirate that he used to be. He had an epiphany that only the truly strong can hold true power. Every day since then, his golden hook that had once been his arm reminded him of this. And so he had begun the aforementioned plan of conquering Alabasta with the prospect of the world's greatest military and the world's greatest weapon, Pluton. He became a Warlord of the Sea to cloak his plans as afforded by the blind eye the World Government had for the Warlords. He began to cultivate a pleasure in stamping out rookie and upstart pirates, who reminded him all too well of his former self, destroying all hopes they had. Why should any two-bit pirate in a Straw Hat be any different?

But it had turned out to be all the difference as evidenced by the position he was now in. Straw Hat radiated the same zeal and naivety he had shown before he was beaten into the ground yet Straw Hat didn't suffer the same fate as he did. In the end of his lamentation, he came to the conclusion.

Life had cheated him.

Whereas Straw Hat's voyage in the Grand Line was met with success, his had only been met up with defeat.

It was with this final bitter conclusion that Sir Crocodile came to his decision. He would withdraw his life completely. He would let time roll on as he aged in Impel Down. He would only come out if something occurred that would make him feel like living again. Until then, he would be forever defeated and exiled into obscurity. And as he stepped out of the carriage and into Impel Down where his fate would be sealed, he spoke to the world his possibly last word.

"Farewell."

***A while later***

So, Portgaz D. Ace was about to be executed. The other prisoners were curious about the situation when Ace had been brought into Level 6 of Impel Down.

But Crocodile was ecstatic. He knew exactly what this meant: Whitebeard would come out to save his crewmate.

Hope had not abandoned him. Here was his golden opportunity. He could finally get even and start over. He was certain that Fate would provide a means for him to get out of Impel Down and into the battlefield at Marineford that would ensue.

Just then, he saw Straw Hat barge into Level 6. Ironic that he would be the one to release him, he thought.