Chapter Eleven
I almost ran into a stone wall when the stocky guy pushed me through the door. I barely moved enough for my cheek to take the hit instead. I winced, wondering what that cheek must look like now. A yellowing bruise with a red mark on top and now a scrape on top of that. It felt numb when I used my tongue to probe the inside of it.
I turned, the heavy chain swinging behind me like a tail just to see the stocky guy move a large lock in place over the black iron door. With each movement, drops of crimson blood stained the stone floor. He swore again and wiped the back of his hand.
He turned to me with a steel glare, "How did you injure me, girl?"
"Chain," I answered, inclining my head to the severed link. With the way it was hacked off, a few sharp edges should be on it.
His look intensified but he turned, a large hand wrapping around the whole of my upper arm and jerked me forward, "Fine. Hurry up."
I walked in front – he was probably paranoid I'd try to stab him again – and he shoved me from behind. When I almost fell forward for the third time, I turned. He backed up for a second, preparing for another attack. But I simply glared at him.
"I can walk by myself," I said. My eyes flicked to his hand, the fresh blood running down his fingers, "You won't want to move that too much."
He glared right back but seemed to comply, "Just keep walking."
I managed to walk faster, so he wouldn't have to push me forward again. My eyes flicking around as I walked, I saw we were in some sort of earth tunnel. In even intervals along the contrastingly rough stone wall were oil lamps, lighted with small dancing flames. They flickered as we past them, casting long shadows.
The space was very narrow, designed for people to walk in a single-file. Even my stocky escort almost took up the entire space, like a boulder.
After a few minutes, I reached a fork in the tunnel, both roads leading to dark mouths.
"Go left," he instructed. I obeyed and we walked again.
A few more turns later, I spoke up, "Is this some kind of underground maze?"
"Shouldn't expect less from you assassins," he answered. A pause and then, "Assassins have a reputation amongst the Marines."
"So?" I was never around enough to hear this reputation assassins apparently had, but whenever I returned, I caught the general scheme of it. Ruthless hunters that would kill anyone, pirate or marine.
Ironically enough, it couldn't be closer to the truth.
I could almost feel a smirk in his voice, "That's why we had to set up this place, just for assassins."
We reached a flight of stone steps. I walked up, noting how the steps were wide and tall. I wondered what kind of people these steps were built for. Definitely not for me; I felt like a kid walking on table-tops.
Noticing another matching iron door at the top of the stairs, I moved to one side so my escort could unlock it.
I heard a click and creak. Then the door pushed open into much more brighter light. I blinked and moved automatically to shield my eyes. My arm only pressed against metal.
"Can I get these chains off yet?" I moved through the door, the metal clinking like bells.
"Not a chance," he snapped.
My boots clicked on smooth white ground. The room was blindingly bright, fluorescent lights reflecting off every surface. I glared down at my shoes instead, blinking to get the spots out of my sight.
Silently, four uniformed marine officers marched in step to either side of me. My eyes flicked to their hands. Armed, of course.
"What happened to your hand?" one officer asked, not completely unkindly to the stocky man.
"Better keep those guns at hand," he replied, only glaring at me. I smiled.
A gun barrel poked the side of my head with a bit more force than necessary. I lost the smile but didn't turn.
"Don't mess with us, kid," said another officer. I smelt cigarette smoke off his clothes. It reminded me of someone.
I only stayed quiet until the barrel dropped.
"Let's go," the third officer said and we walked out of the unnaturally bright room, much to my relief.
Only to scowl again when the outside was no better, if not worse. It was noisy out here, bustling with uniformed men and women. Many stopped and stared when I passed, though I didn't look at them. They wouldn't have any concrete proof I was an assassin since our identity was always concealed to everyone, with a few exceptions; but as I was so heavily guarded, they could make pretty close assumptions.
I heard whispers, sensed stares, felt fear and hostility; all within a few seconds as I passed. My appearance didn't exactly help either; most probably including a slightly hunched posture, bruised, pale skin, among other things.
'1st Assassin… Celestial Dragon Charloss… Hawk-Eyes' student… Excalibur…
…Traitor'.
I stopped short at that, causing my guard to bump into me. The other four stopped silently, expecting me to keep walking.
I didn't; turning to the speaker instead, a short man with fear in his eyes. Must be a recruit, I decided. They did welcome new ones around this time.
"W-What?" he stammered, one shake away from backing up.
"Say that again," I said lowly.
At that, one guard took my arm in an iron grip, "Stop."
At this point, everyone in the corridor was staring, deathly silent. I could hear the recruit's rushed breathing above anything else. No one dared intervene.
"I dare you to say that again," I said, a note darker.
Although visibly shaking, the recruit didn't run. I admired his courage, I'd give him that much.
He returned my gaze evenly. His voice shook, "You betrayed the Marines. You let the Straw Hats live!" His voice continually got louder as he spoke, until the last word ricocheted off the walls.
"Straw… Hats?" That name again, but this time I knew I wasn't going crazy. Only blurry recollections surfaced at the name.
"Oi, recruit!" barked one of my guards suddenly, even making me jump. When I turned to look, he seemed slightly shaken underneath his stern face. I felt it around me, the guards readying their weapons. For what?
"Yes!" the recruit did back up now, his voice highly strung in fear.
The guard looked at me, his eyes searching mine. I blinked back. He seemed to visibly relax.
"Go… go train," the guard finished, "I will accept no gossip within this establishment."
"Yes, sir!" the recruit said and hurriedly escaped the scene.
The guard that was gripping my arm seemed to remember it was there. He let go, leaving a faint mark in its wake and turned, "Come on." He turned around again for a fraction of a second, "Don't cause any more incidences, Excalibur."
I followed this time and we reached the next door without incident.
"Where are we?" I said, standing in front of this new door. It was isolated from the rest of the building, only accessible through a long, winding corridor. I could only guess how many hidden traps were in that corridor alone from the number of times one officer had to refer to a piece of paper to avoid them.
Even the door stood in a league all on its own; a humongous structure that towered over me. It was simple metal, polished to perfection and reflecting our faces. About halfway up the door were many locks the size of my escort. They appeared to be a slide-in lock with a gigantic mechanical cog connected to all of them.
Next to us, a scanner with a keypad underneath it beeped to life.
My guard punched in a long code until it gave a second beep.
"Sir," he spoke into it.
"Is she here?" a computerized voice spoke.
"Yes."
"Bring her in then."
With an almost silent turn, the cog spun, pulling each of the locks open. The door opened a fraction. It was dark inside.
"Do I go by myself?" I asked when nobody moved.
"You should only be so lucky," one guard said, inclining me forward.
I moved through the door. It shut immediately behind me. I heard the lock click back in place.
"I apologize, Excalibur," said that computerized voice, "Only so few people can see my laboratory."
"Why am I here?" I said, not caring for his secrecy, "And can I get these damn chains off now?"
"Oh yes, those." A pause and then the chains fell in a pile at my feet. I blinked, surprised they actually came off. I rubbed my arms and stretched, smiling at the feeling. But then I realised he never answered the first question. I set my face, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"Your trial, Excalibur." The voice spoke emotionlessly.
I felt something spinning to me in the dark. I reached out and caught it. There was no mistaking the sword hilt in my hand. It wasn't mine – I frowned at that – but it was a weapon.
"A trial?" I questioned.
"Will you accept, Excalibur? Or will you run here?"
I pulled off the sheath of my sword with deliberate slowness, "I won't run."
I could almost hear the smile, "Good choice."
I heard a noise and then I jumped. A yellow beam struck the ground, sending sparks and momentarily lighting up the room. The force blew me back and I caught a glimpse of large figures in the room. Definitely more than one… more than five. Only then did it occur to me how large this room was.
"Round one," the voice announced.
"Pacifistas," I muttered, landing against the wall. I pushed off towards the figures.
About five beams all shot my way. Sensing each of them, I spun myself, weaving between each of them. The last one singed strands of my hair. I winced but righted myself, swiping two fingers over my sword face.
"Haki, Level Two," I commanded. The wisps spun up the sword as I descended. I twisted my sword, face down.
A hand shot above me. I barely took in a breath when it slammed me down to the ground. The impact made me choke back blood.
F-Fast, I thought; much faster than Pacifistas should be.
A hand descended down. I rolled out of the way as it pierced the ground, creating a large dent. Pants shook my body as I dodged another barrage of laser beams, scrambling across the floor. I couldn't distance myself too much, I knew. Long-distance would give them an advantage.
They knew exactly where I was. I rolled out of the way of another beam and ran forward again, avoiding each attack. A Pacifista intercepted me first, swinging an arm. I slid underneath it, leaving me a perfect target.
I swung upwards, slicing the hard metal in half. The pieces fell to the side as I slid past, bumping into something solid. It wasn't a Pacifista, I sensed.
Keep track. Don't lose your sanity.
I drove a line in the hard surface. One.
Without hesitation, a Pacifista made a grab for me. I jumped and ran along the top of his arm. A spark lighted to my right and I ducked, narrowly missing the laser beam. The Pacifista's other hand grabbed for me but I sliced it off, letting it fall below. Finally I reached his head, spinning to push off my right foot. I sliced through his neck, feeling it fall beside me.
I landed and scratched a line into the ground. Two.
Another light to my left and a Pacifista to my right. I braced myself as the laser fired and ran, dodging each beam. It charred the ground around me, the smell of smoke hanging in the air.
I reached the right Pacifista and ducked underneath its fist. But this time, I raised my sword to block it. The immense power crushed the ground beneath me, cracks spreading from my feet. I held on, my arms trembling.
I sensed the laser building in the Pacifista to the left.
"Come on," I hissed, my arms starting to lower with the physical force.
The laser fired.
At the same moment, I released 'Dragon' and severed off his arm. The Pacifista fell. I protected myself against the explosion when the laser beam connected, carving another line. Three.
A sharp piece of metal glanced off my arm and I flinched as it drew blood. When it clattered loudly in front of me, I saw a fragment of the Pacifista's face. Emotionless, cold, unfeeling.
What I should be, my mind thought. But instead, what was I?
A traitor? That's what that recruit called me. I couldn't remember; when did I betray anyone? A couple of possibly-inappropriate comments in front of a Celestial Dragon didn't count as betrayal, did it? Apart from that…
Wait. I suddenly remembered that weird dream with the nine strange people. They definitely didn't look it, but were they pirates? Did they fly a black flag?
A laser fired. I flinched and didn't react in time. A ripping pain tore through my leg and I stifled the urge to scream. My hands automatically found the wound, right in my thigh. How much of it was gone? Definitely a good chunk of it… was that a bone? In the pitch black I couldn't tell but my hands definitely came away crimson. The scent of home permeated the air but this time, I choked back the urge to throw up.
A Pacifista was flying towards me, releasing laser after laser.
I ducked, wincing at the pressure on my thigh, and dodged each one, jumping aside to avoid the Pacifista. I made the mistake of landing on my right leg as I usually did. A huge pain flared up when I landed. My cry of pain was only masked by the firing of another laser.
I scrambled out of the way, barely. It seared a part of my jacket. Suddenly I seemed to realise what another use for it was. Shielding myself behind a fallen Pacifista, I whipped off the material. Something crinkled in the sleeve but I ignored that, wrapping it securely around my thigh. There was a hollow space under one side, I realised with frustration. I probably tied it tightly enough to cut off my circulation but I couldn't bleed to death here.
I won't end up like you, D, I told myself, tying a double knot. I was breathing through my mouth by now, afraid if I didn't give it something to do, it'd make me puke. It hardly seemed better though; I could taste the blood in the air.
A Pacifista found me, throwing down a fist. I blocked it, deflected it, grunting. Almost immediately, I had to block another. Behind me, another fist descended.
"Armament: Hardening!" I commanded, raising my good leg. The blow connected somewhere on my calf. I grunted, fuck, it's gonna break! How the hell did…
What was his name…? The thought trailed off. There was someone I remembered; someone whose legs could hold out a lot better than mine did right now.
The sword was barely holding out. I wouldn't be surprised if it cracked already somewhere. How many Pacifistas were there left? Seven?
I heard a distinctive crack. From the sword or from my leg, I couldn't even tell which.
But I had to end this quickly.
The other five Pacifistas were gathering, each building a laser in their mouths.
"Haoshoku Haki," I whispered. I had no idea if I could even control it. I had no idea if it would even work on Pacifistas. Did they even have a will to be overpowered? It didn't matter, it was my last resort.
"Level Three," I commanded. A golden wisp wove itself into my sword, albeit not as powerful as the first time but it was enough.
"Ittoryuu," I muttered, trying to keep the strain out of my voice. The Pacifistas moved closer.
"Tempest!" I yelled, spinning in a full circle, not allowing the Pacifistas time to react. A thousand Haki slashes released from my sword in a blur that human eyes couldn't see. Seven opponents, 143 slashes for each one. And one large slash that injured them all.
The Pacifistas blew away from me, not very far but enough to crash into a wall.
The sword blade fell away, clattering on the ground. The Haki left it and wrapped around the hilt, coating my hand in cool wisps. The golden Haoshoku Haki disappeared, leaving me a headache as payment.
I withdrew the Haki, dropping the hilt next to its blade. Then I pulled out D's knife and knelt. My legs couldn't stand. My jacket felt soaked.
One crash.
I carved a line. Four.
Another.
Five. Another line.
The crashes continued. I marked a line for each one.
Don't lose your sanity.
Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.
As I completed the last line, that computerized voice sounded, barely surprising me. I was tired; I wanted to black out.
"Congratulations, Excalibur," it said. I couldn't even move to say something back.
"However," the voice continued, "This is not the end. It is only Round One! Now we shall begin Round Two!'
I collapsed. The ground was hard, tainted with red and smelt like layers of metal. Despite my tiredness, the throbbing headache, the blood loss, my body still refused to black out.
Round Two. I still had to fight, even unarmed. The hunt wasn't done.
"Fight Kuina!" Someone shouted that at me once, I recalled. I couldn't remember who.
I truly am a wolf, I thought as I rose without a shake. I thought I heard a surprised sound from the intercom.
The lone wolf of the Marines… I obeyed orders. I lived to hunt, to fight, to protect. Nothing else.
When something shot towards me, I moved to the side automatically, dodging the attack.
"Armament: Hardening," I said, holding D's knife. My voice carried over, dark and emotionless. How I should be – I thought of that Pacifista. The edge turned black I assumed since I couldn't see it. But I couldn't fight with a knife like this. I needed a sword. It seemed obvious I wasn't getting another weapon apart from the broken one at my feet.
I touched the ground. Smooth, hard and cool to the touch. Perhaps metal of some sort.
I worked quickly at slicing the ground. Two straight lines.
Something collided into me and I was knocked back, landing heavily on my hip. I cussed and rolled to avoid another blow. Splinters of metal cut into my cheek and I bumped into something else. A Pacifista's body?
I felt a kick towards me and leapt out of the way. It smashed the Pacifista's body with a loud explosion. I heard metal snap.
So easily… my eyes widened unintentionally. A large block of metal flew past them, missing me by a millimetre. I still hit the ground when it did, the loud screech of metal against metal drowning out anything else. My ears rung.
Pacifista metal… The thought suddenly occurred to me; though admittedly it wouldn't be the prettiest thing.
I felt my opponent approach me and turned my knife.
Two straight lines… The knife barely managed to cut into the hard metal. The Haki was contributing most of the power no doubt. I could hardly feel my arm as I dragged it to make a rough shape.
Finally I lowered the knife back into my straps on my pants and thrust my hand into the Pacifista's body. I found the block I'd hacked out and made my fingers curl around it. Wire and bits of metal tangled in between them. I pulled, straining against some wire I missed severing.
"Come on," I hissed, even bracing my leg against the body to pull it out. Adrenaline was racing through me, doubling in speed with each step of my opponent.
Finally the wire gave. The thing was heavier than I expected, hitting the ground as soon as I got it out. I lifted it again, though I had to use both hands.
I felt light-headed and dizzy; even as I uttered the words, I knew they were slightly slurred.
"Armament: Hardening!"
The steel turned back at my command, all the way from the hilt I clutched to the sharp point I carved out.
Another shot I had to dodge, but this time, I slashed my sword too. I watched something fall to the ground and then something collided with me.
A Pacifista? I prepared to block and something long and slim collided with my sword face, almost instantly moving to attack again.
It wasn't a Pacifista, I was sure. I ducked to avoid an attack and blocked the next. Suddenly a flame ignited, lighting up the whole room and I saw then, a tall figure with his leg encased in fire. He attacked again, his kicks precise and strong. I had to deflect each one, moving in a blur of movements to keep up.
Electricity cracked overhead. I looked up, just as a huge lightning bolt struck down.
I twisted, avoiding his kicks and knocking my opponent's neck so he fell forward. The lightning struck, sending an aroma of burnt metal into the air. I glanced back, watching the remaining dancing sparks. The lightning was real.
Electricity was buzzing again, this time in front of me. I watched as a ball of electricity swung towards me, a thousand tiny static shapes buzzing within it. I jumped to avoid it and swung down, slicing the wielder.
Twisting on my heel, I turned and held my sword horizontally to block two swordsmen. We clashed for a while, each perfectly synchronised with each other. I slashed back, blocking when necessary.
I sensed an opening and twisted between two slices, each from one swordsman.
"Dragon!" I commanded. The attack burst out, blowing back the two opponents. I was panting hard. My sword was fading, turning from black to steel again. Are there any more opponents?
Yes. A large presence towered above me. I turned and raised my sword in time to block a large fist. The force cracked the ground beneath me.
"What are you doing, Chopper?" I whispered, strain evident in my voice.
Wait… Chopper?
My sword faded.
Blood gathered in my throat as the large fist connected with my body, crushing the steel against me. The ground cracked even more, sending chunks flying. My sight turned white, then black. The pain was excruciating. A rib definitely broke. Maybe two.
"Chopper…" I groaned, as the limb rose. I tasted blood. Where did that name come from? I could barely think straight when I sensed something.
Something appeared on my shoulder, though I couldn't see what. An image flashed through my mind, the sight of my neck twisting backwards.
I swore and jabbed the thing with my weapon. It seemed to disappear, only to be replaced by another. I cut each of them away.
A flash.
A sword cut down and I rolled out of the way, knocking myself against pieces of the uneven ground. It caught the jacket around my leg and sliced it. I flinched but the wound was numb, not yet hurting. Or maybe I really did cut off my circulation.
The pain that flared when I smacked it against something made me think otherwise.
The sword was swooping down again. I blocked it with the knife I hurriedly pulled out, discarding the makeshift sword. Somehow I knew the steel, even of a Pacifista's, couldn't withstand it. I was easily being overpowered as it was until I finally just had to push off with as power as I could and run.
He was pursuing me, I could feel it. Catching up too, since I was practically stumbling along.
Something shot towards me. I ducked and jumped, avoiding each one. Once they connected with the ground, there seemed to be an explosion. Perhaps it was some sort of compressed miniature bomb.
Another shot towards me and I ducked, but at the last moment, the bomb split up into five.
Shit!
I dodged four. The last one caught me on the leg; my good one luckily. If it had been my injured one, I wasn't entirely sure it'd stay on. The explosion still hurt it like hell though, especially when I landed on it as I fell backwards. Instinctively I tried to stand but the pain rendered both my legs useless. I felt my new injury, glad to find it considerably better than my laser one. Not that it really mattered at this point. I could hear the swordsman, very close to catching up. I had no doubt what other opponents I had were coming towards me too.
What do I do? What do I do? My body was too damaged to execute any of my usual combinations. Haki wasn't working, and I didn't even have a sword!
Wait. There was one type of Haki I hadn't used yet.
Would it work again? I already used it once. I was certain my willpower was wavering dangerously. How could I overpower anyone else's will in my state?
I heard a slash behind me and rolled to the side, feeling the cut trim off the ends of my hair.
My opponent was practically on top of me.
Three swords, my mind seemed to decide that was something important to notice.
But then I connected that image to a face. Green hair, three swords, shirtless…
What was his name?
Three swords cut down at once.
A flash went through my mind; the image of me, bloodied and cut on the ground.
Why does it matter? My mind asked myself.
'You should be dead.' That seemed true enough. Why did it matter in retrospect? Enough people already wanted me dead anyway, including him…
I suddenly remembered who said that. He was the same one who told me to fight too. Why was he here? He couldn't have gotten caught by the Marines… Unless… He's here on purpose.
And suddenly I felt pissed.
"What are you doing, Zoro?" I shouted. The sound reverberated off the walls, the ceiling, the floor, echoing long after I thought to shut my mouth. A headache had formed again, beating painfully against my skull in tune with my racing heart. It didn't help that I could even feel the pulse in my neck joining in.
I felt the edge of a sword not a centimetre away from my face.
It fell.
I let out a small yelp and scrambled to the side to avoid being cut. But the swords just clattered on the ground, followed by the thump of a body.
Was he unconscious? I could barely hope but I took the chance to flee the scene, searching the ground for my jacket. My leg was bleeding again, I could tell from the scent. Even if I wanted to beat the crap out of Zoro, I had to be conscious to. Soon I would probably start to black out. Not that I'd be able to tell.
But then my fingers found the knife again. Yes, I could.
Still, I crawled along until I found the uneven surface again and my fingers brushed against material.
"Found it," I murmured, quickly snatching it up and retying it around the wound hastily. A rustle sounded again. A piece of paper?
I quickly ignored that. With everything else, I couldn't care less about paper.
The paper rustled again, as if demanding my attention. Somehow, I became slightly miffed at the paper, as if better things didn't need my attention; such as random names and phrases and dreams and bits and pieces of information and keeping from blacking out.
I grabbed it, just to stop the rustling.
Light filled the room. Spots filled my vision, though not as violently. Perhaps they were getting used to abrupt brightness. Because of this, I was able to see the newspaper; thin, pale layers dyed in a dark shade of blood. It was still damp too, which made me flinch.
But it didn't hide the words that were printed there, in blocky, clear letters.
'WORLD NOBLE ANNOUNCES A 'HUGE ASSASINATION THAT WILL SHOCK THE WORLD'
And just like that, I remembered everything.
So… we already know the government's pretty corrupt. So I thought to add my own story with Kuina and other assassins. What really happens to them when they can't finish their job?
Ideas? :D
