His chest heaved up. Down. Up. Down. The strained muscles and ligaments in his body did not irk him one bit. The focus in his eyes dimmed from time to time, hot crimson liquid flowing from many parts of him – eyes, nose, mouth, limbs, chest. His ears were not spared either. He convulsed in a fit of dry coughs, expelling more of the rogue liquid.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

He could not, and would not reply. He had made this decision himself, and he vowed to see it through until the end. This was no one's fault. If he dropped dead in his tracks, it was his decision. He sacrificed years of his life for this moment. To lose the brother he treasured so would be unacceptable. Sacrificing a decade of his life in the encounter with Magellan did not bother him, so why should he be worried at this bitter time, in this bitter place, standing atop the corpse of the bitter opponent who viewed life with bitter morals.

"Emporio, make that bastard stop," a hoarse voice pleaded almost pitifully. "No more. You've done enough. Get out of here."

The Ruler of New-Kama Land could not muster up that few, precious words to break the agonizing silence. His body was thoroughly exhausted, but it was the wistful tears of the older brother that made him regret assisting the straw hat boy. Whitebeard's 2nd division commander was on his knees, barely having the energy to move. Though the darkness of the gaol provided a little bit of comfort from the hostile Marines, that comfort was as penetrable as a silk thread.

The younger one brushed the dust off his hat. He thought deep and long of his crew, his hometown and his idol. They were waiting for him, and if he concentrated hard enough, maybe he would hear their joyful laughter, the ones that always kept him smiling. Those lovely sounds combined with the salty scent of the sea, and the playful breeze of the sky was heaven for him. He would go back to them no matter what, alive. With all his strength, he would make sure that his sibling would return to his own crew, so that he could be among his nakama.

It didn't matter if he would have to face Whitebeard in the New World. To be alongside the one you admire and respect, Luffy was fond of that feeling. He didn't want his brother to leave the world at this time. Not now. Not ever. He flashed a silly grin at the handsome pirate who had been pleading him to stop. Ace almost choked from his tears and the urge to laugh.

"You don't ever change, fool. When are you going to take advice from your elders?" he asked, staggering up, leaning against the cold, unwelcome wall.

"I don't plan to. Come on, I skipped 5 days worth of food for this!" came a reply from the young lad donning the straw hat.

"You mean one," Ace interjected, striding to the spot beside his brother. The gaping hole in the wall exposed them to the view of the vast fleet of Marines. A sense of thrill, love for adventure and fondness of fighting alongside his brother in their halcyon days washed over him. His silly grin, similar to his sibling's, came back, and he patted his back, ridding dirt off the proud mark bestowed upon it. Ivankov and their allies faithfully stood behind them, gazing in admiration at their strong backs.

"Yeah, whatever. You ready to go back?"

The two brothers gave goofy smiles to each other. Their hearts throbbed with a familiar excitement, and their fists clenched, urging to beat their opponents to pulp.

"Of course. Let's make a bet. I'll let you play with my hat if you can take down five ships before I do," the commander mockingly taunted. Luffy was pleased with this arrangement, making a similar bet. As the Sun's warm rays shone down upon them, a new day dawned in all it's might, a herald of new adventure.

"We've got nothing to lose."