Title: All We Know Is Falling
Theme: #33 - Expectations
Pairings: No pairings
Setting: Around New World.
Wrote This While Listening To: All We Know Is Falling - Paramore
Please don't kill me for the ending, bahaha. Short drabble just because I need to get it out of my head, the scene. Not my best though. Robin's POV.
No, this couldn't be the lost history.
I trembled even as I wrote the last sentence, my handwriting had gone from cursive to unreadable. I re-read what I wrote, and the truth is far too horrible for my brain to register. The final block of the Rio Poneglyph stood in front of me, my scattered books and my messy picnic mat in the middle of the forest, as if laughing at me after he told me the final portion of the lost history.
No, this couldn't be the lost history.
There is no way that the World Government is hiding the ancestors' destruction. There is no way that the twenty kings are from a bloodline of power-thirst legends. There is no way that there were previously three ultimate civilization in the lost century. There is no way the great civilizations of Sitnalta, Airumel and Um was destroyed overnight by nature's force. There is no way that the survivors had managed to build a greater power today - World Government. There is no way they wanted to ressurect the three ancient weapon to summon their one and only great king.
Supposedly to rule the world their way, one and all.
No, that couldn't be their ultimate purpose.
Sitnalta, Airumel and Um - three great fallen civilization, once wanted to rule the world together, and now, after nature says no, their descendants is working their way to achieve the unfinished goal.
"History is always repeating." One century after another.
We will all fall and be destroyed when this century comes to an end.
And survivors of the World Government, persistence as they are, will start again. And the rebels will stay rebels, to an end.
The lost century in the end, is a reflection of this century. We will all disappear in the end. Just like Ohara.
No, this couldn't be the lost history!
I ignore my messy pile of books on the ground. I saw Chopper as he watched me in panic, but I did not care. The lost century is too horrible for me to bear. I left my shoes, and ran into the woods, tried to look for a way out. The path grew narrow, I could hear Chopper call my name and ran after me, but I didn't want to bother to stop.
I must tell Luffy. Even if he has an IQ of a rabbit to even comprehend.
Trees vanished from my view. I stopped and realized I am on the deck of Thousand Sunny.
God, why does everyone seemed so calm? The swordsman was sleeping, even. I ran towards him, and shook him awake. "We'll vanish. Like Ohara, we'll vanish!"
"Oi, woman, don't touch me!" He said, probably upset for being woken up from his nap. "What's the matter with you?"
I found myself kept muttering World Government and vanishing and Ohara, I couldn't make up my words. I heard Nami came hurriedly, so did Usopp. They said something I couldn't quite catch up with.
The only thing I could only register is Chopper's voice - "Zoro, hold her! I have her sedative ready!"
Sedative? No, not again!
The swordsman took both my arms - preventing me from putting my devil frut powers into use. Nami brushed my hair to one side and held one of my hands. I felt the needle pierced on my arm.
No!
I took a deep breath, too powerless to even fight back. All I did was breathe. And breathe.
I heard Nami asked, "What happened, Chopper?"
"She said she wanted to read books... So I took her to the library. She drew blocks again... We'll have to keep on giving her sedatives until I find a cure..."
"Is there a cure, anyway?" God, the snoozing swordsman finally talked from the depth of his green robes. "Is there a cure, for mental illness?"
Who? Who had mental illness?
I saw the syringe in Chopper's paws still, as he operated to dispose and incinerate the needle. Needles... Those creatures who kept on sinking itself on my skin every single day. I held on tightly to Zoro and his green robes.
He patted me awkwardly on my head.