A/N: Previous chapters have been updated! It seems that the first line of all the chapters seems to have been cut off? Like constantly? Anyway its fixed now, thank you to those who pointed it out! I'll be going over more of it later, just to double check. I... I find that I really don't like this formatting tbh. Anyway, you can find more of my stories on ao3 (Whirlybird70) which are complete and not cut off, especially my One Piece big bang which i posted yesterday! Thank you to all who review, and I hope y'all are staying safe out there.

Whiskey Peak has many visitors. Some not even from this realm.

Some fall quickly to their (Baroque Work's) schemes, others take a bit more convincing, but eventually, they all do become another nameless, stone grave upon its rolling green hills.

(Before the hunters of Baroque settled there, there were still gravestones littering the peaks, gently Illuminated by moonlight. They don't know where they came from, and perhaps they never will.

But they are always careful of something on this (breathing) island that might get them instead of the other way around.)

(Has it left?)

(Gold Roger was the last person to step foot on this island. According to local legend, that was the last time a stone cross appeared on its own.)

These visitors should be no different, even if there are special instructions for their capture and death.

These pirates are from the East Blue after all.

And everyone knows the East Blue is the weakest.

(They don't think about monsters such as Garp and Roger. Bounty hunters aren't particularly bright like that. )

The Straw hat pirates are insane and the 'townspeople' slowly falling unconscious isn't a complete façade, but eventually they wear away to sleep.

The permanent kind.

Dead or alive after all.

(The bounty hunters don't comment on how they can't quite focus on their visitors, how Ms. Wednesday had shaken her head when they tried to ask what sea they came from directly. (East Blue they found out, and thought nothing of it. East Blue, they think later, and shiver.) Bounty hunters deal in information but Whiskey Peak has never needed it before.)

They didn't count on one waking up. On all of them waking up.

(For the first time in 23 years, Whiskey Peak adds some of its own to the graves dotting the hills. The beast, touched by East Blue waters, feasts on its people with a wicked smile.

A good swordsman never lets the drink overcome him, and Zoro is no different.

(Unless he's sure that his nakama can handle it. Booze is great after all.)

Plus, costumes and stupid code names. A trap, obviously.

(Mr. 7 could never have made it in the East Blue – he would have been eaten alive (literally) – it's a good thing Zoro took his head.

(Asura had been pleased))

Standing in the moonlight now, watching them walk out, thinking they had taken care of all of them, he can't help but smirk.

The bounty hunters have no idea, do they? They don't know of the darkness that seeps into these waters, of the darkness that they unwittingly invite into their homes. They don't even register the misty quality about their crew and how Luffy's playful bites at hands serving his food had been anything but.

There is blood to be shed tonight, and it won't be Zoro's – this he is certain.

(Ever since they crossed into the Grand Line, there as been a presence, pressing down on them all. Crocus had explained it vaguely – the Veil, this thing that obscures what should not be seen.

Zoro, and the rest of the East Blue, apparently fall into that category.

(And it's no surprise – Zoro thinks of the things he has seen beneath the waves and the people on every island, and wonders if there are things that are obscured from him.)

Technically, they shouldn't be here. Technically, they shouldn't have any strength to surpass this bearing might of some invisible force.

But Zoro doesn't care. He's strong enough to withstand it – and eventually, he vows, he will surpass it.)

He lifts Wado, lets her blade gleam in the moonlight, and announces his presence.

(In shimmering view, two other arms lift two other shadowy blades – solid and sure but not quite of this realm.)

"Sorry, but I think you might want to let them sleep a little longer. Luffy's hungry when he wakes up you see…"

The bounty hunters quiver, and Zoro can taste their fear.

Good.

There's blabbering, and Zoro reveals a bit of his hand. It doesn't matter though, because a step forward (through three worlds) and he's in their midst's, a feral grin on his face and moonlight shining off his blades and many arms (not that they can see all of them).

"Wanna fight?" he smiles.

They pull their weapons and Zoro unleashes hell.

The moon sets later to an explosion of fire. Zoro watches dispassionately and licks the blood off his blades.

So the bounty hunter is actually a princess, huh?

Funny. He thought princesses had more sense. Weren't they supposed to run from monsters?

Yet here she was, on her knees and absolutely terrified but begging them to save her country.

"You hail from the East, don't you? Please, I know the truth – you can help me save my country, can't you? I'll offer you anything – anything, just please, help us – there's no one left."

Zoro doesn't care about her all that much, but Crocodile is a war lord, and rumor has it his right-hand man is proficient with blades. A challenge, right off the bat in the Grand Line – looking to his left he can see Luffy thinks the same, if about Crocodile, but probably with the addition of a feast.

(His captain should be sated for now, though he will have to cut down how much he eats in front of Vivi. She already saw Zoro, bloody and blood thirsty, cutting down her former colleagues – how will she react to Luffy, bloody and bloodthirsty, feasting on the people of her country?)

Nami, the blasted weather witch, has berries in her eyes. The storm she's made of rumbles and flashes with the promise of gold as she sidles up to the princess – "A princess, eh?"

"FEAST!" Luffy shouts, and Zoro knows for a fact they were heading to Alabasta.

Vivi trembles but the inklings of a smile make their way onto her face. Zoro gives her a grin and goes to take a nap, internally laughing at the paling of her face as she caught a glimpse of his fangs through the veil.

She better get used to it.

It's one of the more mundane things on this sea.

(In flickering moments, she sees the truth, and becomes used to dwelling with demons, in a way that few are. She doesn't question things, and doesn't let fear rule her as she sleeps unguarded.

Zoro's proud to call her nakama, when they leave.

They should have taken her with them.)

As the Going Merry leaves Whiskey Peak, blood sinks into the ground. The water darkens and only a few more souls manage to leave the deceiving paradise in the moonlight.

The rest are not seen again.

A hundred more gravestones appear.

(Water from the East flows from Reverse Mountain without the bracing divide of the Calm Belt to stop any presence. It. corrupts as far as it can reach, turning whales into beasts and islands into monsters.

Whiskey peak, the closest island to the East Blue, has been in its waters for a long, long time.

It's an Island and it does not take kindly to visitors.

Especially ones that create their hideout on its shores.)