First chapter of the new year! Hope everyone had a good Christmas and New Years, and at least got to celebrate however they wanted. It's been a crazy year, for sure. I hope you're all keeping healthy and managing your sanity. Because I'm working at a hospital now, I actually just took the Pfizer vaccine. Aside from some pain at the site, I've been fine. Hopefully it'll be rolling out more quickly so everyone can get some immunity to this madness.

IMPORTANT NEWS UPDATE! So some of you may know that I've picked up a few beta readers over the years to help pick up any errors in my writing. Sadly, 2 of them have been MIA for the past few chapters. Obviously I know life changes and people can't always keep commitments made years ago, but that leaves me with only 1 working editor. And while EirSnowLavellan has been doing a stellar job as always, I like to have a few proofreaders so the responsibility doesn't just fall on 1 person. Then when end up with 1 person trying to edit while in the middle of moving house. So if you're interested in helping out, have a strong grasp of grammar and editing, shoot me a message either here or on my Tumblr. All you need is an email that I can share the Google Doc with.


Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece. I only own my original additions. This story is for entertainment purposes only.


WARNINGS: MEDICAL PROCEDURES, SCARY IMAGERY, GORE, BODY HORROR, CULT ACTIVITIES. If you like music to enhance your experience, I recommend checking out the Cryo Chamber channel on Youtube.

"I came for the ZoroxOc and I stayed for the monster hunting, supernatural elements, and the body horror." EirSnowLavellan


"...mag zusehn dass er nicht dabei zum Ungeheuer wird..." Should see to it that he does not become a monster in the process

It would be easy to blame her jumpiness the next morning on her growing suspiciousness in light of everything that transpired the day before. In truth, however, Abel's reaction would've been the same to a shrill voice startling her from a dead sleep if the past few days had transpired in peaceful bliss. Body moving before her brain had fully processed what was going on, Abel snapped up in bed, barely managing to detangle herself from the dog curled up beside her to grab the crossbow always resting on the bedside table between her and Nami. She trained her weapon in the direction of the sound, across the room near the door, and it was then that her senses finally caught up. Good thing she had years of trigger discipline.

Blinking away what remained of the sleep fog, Abel finally began processing her surroundings. The other two sleeping occupants of the room, Dogmeat and Caine, were also alert, respective weapons drawn and searching for the source of the scream. Abel's crossbow pointed squarely at Nami, who stood before the little sink area near the door. Abel's familiarity with the woman's cries of peril, combined with Nami folding her arms over her head protectively, quickly clued the hunter in as to the source of commotion. "Go away!" Nami cried, batting at some unseen foe overhead.

Again, were Abel fully coherent, she would've expected what happened next, rather than letting it startle her. The door to the women's quarters flew open, almost coming off the hinges as Sanji literally kicked the door in. "Nami-san!?" the harried cook exclaimed, already assessing the room for anyone who'd dared threaten his ladies. Given his slightly bedraggled appearance, he'd been asleep as well. The commotion outside informed Abel that the other men had been awakened and were in the process of joining them.

Finally fully awake, Abel returned her attention to the source of the rude awakening. As their navigator continued to be tormented by something overhead and out of view, Abel worried for a moment that her cleansing hadn't been as effective as she'd thought, and the same supernatural entity that had watched her had taken the opportunity to strike. But then, the light from the vanity above the sink caught against something, catching Abel's attention. And when she finally processed what it was, she felt her body deflate as the adrenaline surge ended. She should be annoyed, but honestly the whole thing was too hilarious that Abel couldn't help chuckling. "Really, Red?" she teased, grin splitting her tired visage. "All the things we've been through, and this warrants the damsel-in-distress act?"

Somehow managing to flush red in embarrassment while still blue in the face in fear, Nami snapped, "It's not funny, Abel!" To her tormentor, she shouted again, "Just go away!" while flailing her arms.

Trying to untangle herself from her covers, Abel advised, "Just turn the lights off."

By the time Abel made it to her feet, Nami had slammed the light switch, dousing the room in darkness again. Nami's tormentor, calmed by the lack of light, ceased its relentless antics. Nami gave an exasperated huff as she finally had a moment of peace. "Stupid thing," she grumbled, calm in all but temper.

"You've been traipsing around cadaverous tunnels all week, and this is the bridge too far?" Abel couldn't help continuing to tease, finding the situation far too hilarious to pass up. "Way to break the stereotype about women being squeamish."

"They're gross!" Nami insisted. "And they eat clothes!"

"Not right off your back!"

"Uhh..." Luffy called as he peered over Sanji's shoulder. "So everything's okay then?" Everyone else still had no idea what the problem was, but it seemed to have passed.

Stepping passed the huffing redhead, Abel carefully scooped the tormentor off the wall where it had landed, no longer excited by the light. Being as ginger as possible so she didn't hurt the delicate beast, she ignored Nami's noise of disgust. "Don't touch it, Abel!"

Now it was Abel's turn to scoff. "I regularly dig through entrails. The odd insect isn't going to get my blood pressure up."

"A bug!?" Why did Sanji suddenly look almost as pale as Nami?

Abel couldn't help rolling her eyes. "It's merely a moth," she chastised, using one hand to gently encourage the little creature into her other palm without damaging its delicate wings. Its prickly legs tickled Abel's hand as it slowly climbed onto her waiting palm, and she had to resist reflexively jiggling her hand at the sensation. Cupping her other hand over it so it wouldn't escape, Abel continued, "I'd understand if it were a cockroach or spider- even if that's not technically an insect- but a moth? It couldn't hurt you even if it tried."

From the couch, Caine groaned, "Egods!" as she realized what all the hullabaloo was about, falling back onto the couch she'd been sleeping on. Nami puffed out her cheeks, not appreciating being tag-teamed.

As it began to sink in to the others that there was no actual emergency, and Nami was just being 'a girl', the guys began to slowly scattered, mumbling to themselves about the rude awakening. Unsurprisingly, Luffy demanded, "Sanji, breakfast!"

Shaking her head, Abel said, "Let me release Mothra back into the wilds."

Ignoring Sanji crooning to their navigator that he'd make her a bracing cup of tea to restore her from such an early-morning ordeal, Abel slunk passed them onto the deck. The cool early morning air felt very welcoming as she did. Why had it been so hot in the cabin? Turning to face the island, Abel uncupped her hands and held her arms out. Really, all that fuss over a cute, fuzzy thing like that. Maybe if it had been a colorful lunar moth, rather than this dull gray one, Nami might've sung a different tune. The worst it might do is fly down your shirt or land in your drink, making it a bit unpalatable. The moth remained stubbornly clinging to her hand until Abel gave it a little bump on the rump, and it sprung into the air, tiny wings fluttering away. "Off to torment another wayward soul," Abel called in parting with a smile.

Her smile slowly began to fade, however, as she began to notice some things. For one, she felt hot again, which seemed at odds with the goosebumps dotting up along her exposed patches of skin. Abel shifted her scarf to better cover her neck, only to feel dampness along the skin below. A quick, cursory swipe of her forehead revealed that, yes, despite the coolness she was, in fact, sweating. In fact, whether it was because she was awake enough to notice or adrenaline had worn off, Abel began to become aware of several unpleasant facts. Such as the fact that her joints in her legs and hips ached, she felt fatigued, and just generally 'blegh'. With a mental groan, Abel brought her hand to feel along the top of her neck. The tell-tale presence of swollen lymph nodes confirmed what she already suspected.

"Doc," she called, catching the deer before he disappeared back into the men's cabin. When he turned to face her, he spied Abel feeling around her throat and sending him a dry stare. "Time for another pow-wow."


"Well, you were right, Abel," Chopper said, as he focused his microscope.

"You'll excuse me if I refrain from jumping for joy," Abel drawled back as she buttoned her pants back. Taking off her pants and leggings when her joints ached was a literal and figurative pain, but they'd needed to check. The previous red dots from the days prior had morphed into angry, red splotches, making her bottom half resemble a colorful dalmatian. "It wasn't hard to predict. Get scratched by rats and two days later come down with a fever?" Sadly, being able to successfully predict the outcome wasn't the same as being happy about it.

Chopper nodded slightly so as to not bump his eye on the lens. "Pretty classic epidemiology."

Abel had just sat back down on the bed when their captain stuck his head through the door. "Is Abel sick again, Chopper?"

"I'm afraid so, Luffy," their doctor answered. "She has Haverhill fever. Streptobacillus."

She didn't even need to look to know there was a blank stare of Luffy's face. "Rat-bite fever, Boss."

"Oh!" he gasped, finally understanding. Well, he'd gotten the fever part before. Stepping in, he commented, "I guess you got it from down in the catacombs."

"Yes," Chopper answered for her. "Although technically you can be exposed if you're bitten or scratched from any sort of animal that's been exposed to the bacteria. It's just most common in rodents."

"Is it bad?" Luffy's demeanor showed his rare seriousness, something that typically only happened when he was worried about one of his friends.

"It can be, if left untreated, like any other disease," Chopper answered. Turning away from his microscope, he gave Luffy a reassuring smile. "But with early diagnosis and medication, she'll recover just fine."

"It's rare nowadays to get it," Abel added. "I think my immune system is merely lethargic from all it's had to put up with lately." She had just recovered from pneumonia, which she caught after running around in a monsoon, after technically dying from being frozen solid. There was only so much a body could take.

Already going to his medical supplies, Chopper advised, "Some TLC and a round of penicillin, and she should be back to her old self!"

Leif was extremely apologetic when he arrived to pick the others up that morning. Abel thought he'd bash his forehead on the table, he bowed so quickly in penitence. "What are you apologizing for?" Abel asked, nursing a cup of tea in a vain attempt to ward off the malaise of sickness. "We encountered the rats before we even knew you existed. It was our own curiosity to blame. As is often the case."

"Regardless," the man dismissed. "It's probably a good idea to take the day off. Now that we know the rats are contaminated. I'd hate for anyone else to get sick." They hadn't encountered any during their escapades, but they could certainly hear the little vermin further in the tunnels. Rats weren't sanitary on a good day; how much less so in a tomb, crawling over the dead?

"Guess I'll have to find some other adventure to go on today," Luffy said, earning him a swift kick for their cook.

"Have some compassion!" Sanji shouted. "Abel-dono's sick!"

Dryly, Abel retorted, "Your shouting is doing even less for me than Boss' obliviousness." That quickly cowled the cook, who fervently whispered for the hunter to forgive his thoughtlessness.

Diverting the conversation, Nami agreed, "Three days in a row down there is enough. I'm not sure I can stomach much more."

"It's certainly an acquired taste," Robin added.

As the others discussed how best to fill their time, with Nami suggesting a lazy day around the ship as she predicted rain, Caine looked toward her sister. "Like the bad ole days, huh?" If anyone could empathize with Abel's current plight, it would be her sister. Like Abel, Caine had her share of childhood illnesses. In fact, if one was sick, the twin would typically soon follow, passing it back and forth.

Abel made a hum of agreement. "This was an occupational hazard of piracy I didn't predict. But, in my defense, the human body isn't prepared for being frozen into a solid block of ice." That definitely seemed to be the start of things, and she just hadn't had time to fully recover and allow her immune system to reset.

Caine's eyes narrowed. "And how did that happen?" she asked, more than a little suspiciously.

"Devil Fruit."

Caine rolled her eyes. "I hate those things."

The irony was not lost on Abel, given there were three Devil Fruit users right there. "Cheating," Abel agreed. They took the fun out of discovery. "Y'know, I could've seen a Pegasus once. But it was just a dopey bird who'd eaten a Horse-Horse Fruit or some nonsense. Looked more like a jester in polka dot pajamas." Caine's nose crinkled in distaste.

"Hey, babe." Both sisters turned their heads at once toward Franky, who had spoken in a surprisingly even voice. Was he actually taking Abel's illness into consideration? Abel suppressed a smile at the thought that his continued insistence on the nickname wasn't helping her previous case that she wasn't sleeping with the man, but hoped Caine would still believe her. Frankly, it was none of her business.

Back to the matter at hand, Franky asked, "Are you still able to help with the surgery today? I don't want to shelve the project, but I'm not too keen on having an angry dawg on my hands, either."

"Am I well enough to sit around and pet my dog?" Abel asked back, summarizing in her own unique way what Franky was asking. "Can't think of a better way to spend a sick day. Isn't petting an animal supposed to be therapeutic?"

As Abel's disease wasn't contagious, and her role in the operation would be moral support, Chopper agreed to allow Abel to help. After breakfast, Abel, Chopper, Franky and Dogmeat gathered in the infirmary. Usopp had decided to bow out at this point, as surgery was beyond the scope of his talents... and stomach. It didn't appear Dogmeat suspected anything amiss at first, more than happy to follow his sick master around. Seating herself on one of the beds, Abel patted her lap, and Dogmeat eagerly hopped up. He tried to curl up entirely in her lap, but Abel had to rearrange him so he laid stretched out on the bed with his head in her lap, right side exposed. Once situated, Dogmeat's tail gave a little thump on the mattress, content as Abel cradled his head.

The other two gathered the necessary equipment in silence, with Chopper arranging his surgical equipment and Franky getting his tools set up. Had Dogmeat not been undead, and proved incapable of registering "pain", Abel would've felt unnerved by all the equipment being gathered around them. Yet even knowing this, she had to push down a slight sense of unease, not wanting Dogmeat to get nervous because of her. In her mind she knew Dogmeat was undead and never responded to pain. Hell, she'd even cut him open and stuck a probe inside him upon first returning to the ship with him. But that was then. This was now. He wasn't just some zombie dog. He was her zombie dog.

Abel's main concern was that the leg ultimately wouldn't take, and his body wouldn't accept it like Franky seemed to assume it would. That they'd be doing more harm than good by slapping a hunk of metal onto him he'd never be able to use. She still wasn't sure if Dogmeat healed from injuries. The places where Chopper had sewn up previous injuries still hadn't healed, holes closed only thanks to the sutures. But Franky had found a way to replace whole parts of his body, so she'd have some trust in his abilities. At worst, the leg would be useless, and they could just dismantle it from the knee down. Abel wouldn't put him through surgery again if this failed.

Such musings occupied the hunter as the other two finished their tasks. Dogmeat remained blissfully oblivious to everything else, focusing solely on comforting his sick master and enjoying the attention. He didn't need to sleep, but Abel's gently petting did lull him into a tranquil state of half-awareness, utterly unconcerned about what the others were doing in the room. His ear merely twitched or swiveled at the noise.

Before long, they had everything assembled. Glancing between the trays with Chopper's surgical tools and Franky's... just tools, felt a bit disconcerting. Girthy mechanical tools just didn't look right next to delicate surgical implements. Pulling over a stool so he stood at bed-height, Chopper began to address Dogmeat directly. Due to his generally uncommunicative nature, it was easy to forget that he understood them all perfectly well. "Okay, Dogmeat, here's what's going to happen," he began to explain. Ordinarily Chopper didn't explain what he was doing to patients, but he didn't want Dogmeat to bite anyone out of confusion. He was still an animal, after all. "We're going to put this new leg on you. And to do that, we'll have to cut open your shoulder." He gestured to the scalpels on the tray.

If it were possible to give a dry stare with only one eye, that's what Dogmeat was doing right now. He snorted, and Chopper had the distinct impression he asked, "Is that why he won't leave me alone?" referring to Franky. It was still strange how the dog talked without "talking".

Regardless, Chopper answered affirmatively. "Yes, Franky's been working on a new leg. It should make things easier for you, like getting around the ship." While Dogmeat didn't seem severely hampered by his lack of leg, there was no denying there were some things he couldn't do.

Dogmeat continued to look unsure, until Abel stroked his head. "It's fine, boy. Let them try. And if it doesn't work, I'll let you bite Franky in the butt."

"Hey!"

Still wary, Dogmeat would concede to his master's will. If she thought it was okay, then it was okay. So, with another huff, Dogmeat laid his head back against Abel's lap, signaling his consent.

That didn't stop him from giving a low, warning growl when the prey made the first cut. It didn't hurt when the tiny knife cut into his flesh, but instincts told Dogmeat he shouldn't be letting people do that. His master shushed him, scratching behind his ears. When his growling rumbled off into nothingness, she praised him, making his tail thump. Dogmeat knew the prey was just doing the same things he did to the humans, making people better with his weird-smelling chemicals. He just told himself it was the reverse of those times the prey had sewn his wounds closed. Maybe if he'd had someone like the prey around before, he wouldn't be missing an eye and a leg in the first place. Or maybe not. Master seemed to think those injuries were probably what killed him the first time. Dogmeat couldn't say. He didn't remember much before Master, aside from vague impressions and just... knowing things.

The other person, however... Dogmeat hesitated to think of the blue-haired one as a "human" as he didn't smell like one. Oh, he looked and acted like one, albeit a very loud, weird one. But Dogmeat had come to accept all humans were weird. He just didn't smell human. He smelled... the best analogy Dogmeat could come up with was when the green-haired male cleaned his sharp, metal sticks (that he cruelly refused to share with the dog). What did the humans call it? Steel? He smelled like that - like steel and the stuff used to clean it, only occasionally changing to pick up ambient scents. It made Dogmeat curious. What would happen if he bit the steel person? He could bite through metal. Would he bite through him? Would Master be mad at him?

Dogmeat's musing distracted him up until the prey cut deeper into his muscle. Dogmeat tried to sit up to see what they were doing to him, but Master held his body still, only allowing his head to come up. Being on the same side as his missing eye, Dogmeat couldn't easily see what they were doing to him, not quite being able to crane his neck far enough for his good eye to see. He could feel it well enough, though. Dogmeat didn't remember the feeling of pain, so didn't know that's what he should be feeling without the aid of anesthesia. It just felt weird. He felt the prey cutting into the muscle at the end of his stump. Due to being undead, they didn't have to worry about bleeding, as Dogmeat didn't do that.

Dogmeat observed as best he could as the steel person picked up the metal contraption and brought it near. A new leg, is that what the prey said? He'd never considered such a thing. But he supposed a metal man could do it. Dogmeat felt pressure against his shoulder, and felt an odd scratching vibration, as if something were being dragged against a rough surface. It felt odd to him, drawing a whimper. Immediately, Master murmured words of praise and encouragement, triggering the beast to relax. Master was here. Master wouldn't let anything bad happen.

After some maneuvering and a bit of rough-handling, Dogmeat felt whatever they were doing pop into place with an audible click. He felt coldness against his shoulder, all the way to his bones. This earned them a low growl of complaint. Dogmeat didn't like the cold. It made him feel sleepy, and he didn't like that. It wasn't good, he knew. The steel person consumed most of Dogmeat's limited view as he continued to lean over the beast. He felt large hands press sharp points into his shoulder muscle. Almost immediately, Dogmeat felt his body become unbalanced, a new, heavy weight hanging off his right side. Dogmeat attempted to move away from the weight pressing down on him, but the steel person's large grip held him still. The dog's lips pulled back, showing teeth. And if it hadn't been for Master restraining him, he might well have tested his jaws against the steel person.

Eventually, the steel person moved away, allowing the prey to take his place. With delicate hooves, the prey pulled his flesh back into place, the little pricks telling Dogmeat he was being sewn back together. When that feeling ceased, Dogmeat tried to sit up to see what they'd done, but it seemed they weren't finished yet. The steel person moved closer again, holding a metal cone and a strange machine. Dogmeat felt them manipulate whatever they'd put on him before cold encompassed his shoulder. Holding him down, the steel person lowered the machine near him. The sudden, loud whirring made Dogmeat jump, but Master held him close. Were they always so warm? Despite the unease of the situation, that comforted him.

The machine vibrated against Dogmeat, and he felt something boring into his flesh and bone. It didn't hurt, but felt weird. Dogmeat knew he shouldn't be feeling things like that. But soon the vibrations were gone, and everyone stood back. Finally, Dogmeat could move. Or at least try to. His right side felt heavier than normal, throwing his balance off. It was a struggle to sit up, exerting a lot of effort to bring his other leg under him and push up. Craning his neck around, Dogmeat stared at the metal limb now attached to his right shoulder. A new leg, huh? Strange.

He sniffed at, finding it very odd to now have a new growth. As he did, Master asked, "Does he need the cone of shame?"

"Shouldn't," the steel person replied. "I doubt even he can turn his neck that far to get at the stitches."

Carefully, Master took his new foot in hand and gently manipulated it. Feeling his shoulder move for the first time since he could remember pulled a whimper from Dogmeat. Master immediately stopped, and he felt the tension and worry in her. That seemed to lessen somewhat when the prey said, "It doesn't hurt. It's just... weird." The praise of what a brave boy he was helped him relax.

Even better when Master picked him up and carried them back to their den. Oh! Was Master going to cuddle with him all day? Well, that was a fair trade, Dogmeat thought as he eyed the new limb. She needed to rest, anyway. Stretching his neck up as Master situated them both on her bed, Dogmeat licked at her face, earning a laugh from the woman.


While to most people recovering meant sleeping, Abel wasn't in the mood for sleep. Besides, she had a promise to keep, and now seemed as good a time as any. Being sick was one of the few times she was pretty much guaranteed to get some peace. And contrary to what others on the ship might claim, thinking didn't take a lot of energy. So, with a cup of tea on the side table, a blanket to ward off the chill that inevitably came with fevers, and a dog with a new leg tucked into one side, Abel situated herself to read over Leif's case.

The well-worn folder contained a multitude of news articles, copies of official reports, and sheets to paper that seemed to be in Leif's handwriting. The first things that fell out from the file were some old photographs. Abel assumed the village captured in the image was the town itself. Leif's description of the village looked spot on, with the village built smack in the middle of a dense jungle. Being outside of the Grand Line, and therefore subject to normal weather patterns, the island must've been situated in a warm climate. Just based on the style of the houses depicted, Abel estimated it wasn't very large, but large enough to be self-sufficient. What had Leif said? Five-hundred people? The houses were simple, but not primitive huts. One-room shacks, set equidistance apart from each other. Actually, they reminded Abel of row houses. Each house looked identical to its neighbor, slapped together as cheaply and quickly as possible to give the people somewhere to live. Each house had one front door and a little side awning. The roofs were made of corrugated metal, the walls whatever wood happened to be available. Abel could easily believe these were ramshackled together by the agencies hoping to profit off the people's work. It was a mining and forestry town, right?

One of the photos was almost completely washed out, but Abel saw some people in it. Given that they looked like farmers, Abel assumed this was a before-picture taken by somebody. While dressed for hard labor, the people wore more or less modern clothes. Slacks or dirty jeans and shirts. If the rest of the jungle was as dense as what it looked like in the scenes Abel saw, travel would be difficult, meaning the people would have to be mostly self-sufficient. Trade likely consisted solely of the products they made for their benefactors.

"Are you sure you should be doing that while you're sick, Abel-dono?" Sanji asked as he came to refill Abel's tea.

"I can read files like this in my sleep," she retorted without looking up.

"Truly your talents know no bounds, Abel-dono." Coming from anyone else, Abel would've thought that was sarcasm. But she didn't think Sanji was capable of being sarcastic toward a woman. His hands would probably wring his own neck.

Moving from the photos to the reports, Abel discovered little that Leif hadn't already told them in his story. A platoon of Marines had been sent to station in the village to protect it from guerilla attacks. Based on the official communiques (which Abel wondered how Leif got ahold of even if his dad was a civil engineer in the government's employ), Hoer Verde had been established by outside business men to gather the local resources, like lumber and some small-scale mining. This didn't sit well with the natives to the land, who naturally didn't appreciate outsiders ruining their island. But it wasn't until the government had established their own governor on the island that things actually turned violent. Rebels began to pop up and terrorize the locals, threatening them with violence not to work for the government. More than a few towns had been razed.

Naturally, the businesses with a vested interest in Hoer Verde requested Marine presence to protect it. While it was easy to be jaded and think they were only protecting their profits, their "assets" also included people's lives, both natives and outsiders who were just trying to make a living. Abel felt more ire toward the rebels, honestly. If they were so mad at the government, why not attack them directly? Yet knowing they didn't have the strength (or balls) to do that, they instead harassed, maimed and killed the very people they claimed to be fighting for. How dare they value supporting their families and not have the power to go against the establishment! Abel couldn't roll her eyes hard enough.

But back to the communiques... it was during said requests for aid that Leif's family must've been sent, with his dad planning to build defenses. And then the town just... vanished. Or rather the people did. The reports cited that it was Leif's father who reported the disappearances to the authorities, using the snail phones still left at the local base. More Marines came to investigate, with the report noting there'd been no communication with the local base for several weeks. Apparently, they'd assumed no news was good news. The report corroborated the rest of Leif's story. The town showed no signs of battle, with most things having been left in their places. Even the Marine base appeared strangely undisturbed, only empty. As if everyone had stepped out at once and never came back. Officially, the town was ruled as having been evacuated due to pressure from the guerillas, yet it was also noted off the records that there was never any indication of the displaced villagers showing up elsewhere. Nor did the guerrillas take credit for the attack.

The rest of the articles were sensationalized news stories, which Abel took with a grain of salt. They did, to their credit, include authentic photos, illustrating the oddness of the disappearances. Some photos from inside houses showed food still on the table, or left to cook to nothing but ash. The most striking image was that of a child's ball abandoned in the middle of the street, flanked by empty houses down both sides. That photo provoked such a strong sense of emptiness that Abel found herself staring sadly at it for a long time.

Finally laying the depressing photo aside, Abel cast an eye toward the pages torn from folklore books mentioning the town, usually giving a brief summary even more vague than what Abel just did. The hunter wondered how Leif had felt reading about his family's disappearance in a book. Obviously, they weren't mentioned directly, but were still among "the people" being discussed. That had to feel weird, and a little frustrating. What would it be like, to read about the most defining moment in your life as just a footnote or oddity to the outside world? Abel thought about how weird it was to read about their own exploits, and rolling her eyes at the exaggerations or outright lies. What if someone wrote about her parents' deaths as just, "Ain't that weird?".

The only interesting tidbit from the book clips was one of them mentioning that the only signs of struggle was a rifle found inside the one-room schoolhouse that showed signs of being fired. Abel questioned the veracity of this, especially given that it didn't clarify the "signs", but would concede it would be strange to find a rifle in a school- assuming that were true. The article also said there had been a message written on the blackboard in chalk; "THERE IS NO SALVATION". Ominous, to be sure, but questionable. Given there was no mention of such evidence in the official report - that wasn't meant to be released to the public so why hide information?- Abel leaned toward writing that off as convenient sensationalism for the purposes of giving supernatural credence.

Looking through the rest of the photos, Abel came across one that stood out. It wasn't a picture of the village, but a group of people. A family. A man, woman, a boy and a little girl, slightly younger than the former. The woman seemed much smaller than the man, of a delicate disposition, though that might be due to her sitting in a chair in the photo with the man standing behind her, towering over the family. The little girl sat in her lap, barely more than a toddler, and the boy stood to the side closest to the photographer. The man stood behind, one hand resting on his wife's shoulder, then other on the boy's, staring straight ahead. Given that they were all done up in their best, this was clearly meant as an important family photo. Abel gave a little smile at how the boy dressed almost exactly like his father, down to the wire-frame circular glasses. Even now Leif dressed like his father.

Abel wondered why the photo would be tucked away in here, rather than stored in a more important place. But maybe Leif kept it in this file as a reminder of what he was searching for. So every time he returned, he could remember them. She felt a pang of empathy for the man. She had spent many years herself searching for answers that never came, eventually resigning herself to the knowledge she probably never would get a real answer. Perhaps they had that in common, and Abel felt she understood the man's strange obsessions better. Part of what drove Abel to hunt and study monsters was so others didn't have to suffer the losses she did, but also partly out of anger that if her family hadn't given up the trade her parents might still be alive. But who could say? No one can guess how the past might change the present. Had Leif resigned himself, as well, and chose to focus on preserving structures to protect the families he didn't have?

There were a few other photos that must've been from the family, as Abel couldn't imagine anyone else taking them. The kids playing on the dusty streets. Leif's father showing him something on a large sheet of paper. One included Leif's mother standing before a room of children, writing something on the chalkboard with her back to the camera. This must be the one-room schoolhouse the book mentioned. Apparently, Leif's mother took it upon herself to educate the local children. With her starched shirt, A-line skirt and pinned up hair, she even looked like a stereotypical school teacher. Abel suppressed a chuckle that the woman was so short she had to stand on tiptoes to write on the top of the blackboard. It looked like she was teaching them language arts. Part of the writing was blocked, but Abel saw the end of the sentence: nulla salus.

Wondering why the woman was teaching them Latin, Abel was about to put the photos away. She paused, however, when her brain kicked in. Nulla salus... Sitting upright, Abel disturbed the napping dog in her lap, but was more focused on double-checking the photo. The blackboard definitely showed nulla salus. Nulla salus. Nulla meant 'no'. Salus... well, it could mean many things, though they all circled around the same idea. It could be a greeting, a salutation wishing people good health and wealth. It could mean good, or haven, or safety. Nulla salus... no health... no good... no safety... no rescue... no salvation. There is no salvation.

Abel continued to mull over this turn, but could never come to anything conclusive. It was entirely possible she was reading too much into it, and it was completely innocent. Had she not read about the note on the board before seeing the picture, she'd have likely thought nothing of it. Just an innocent lesson on reading or writing... even if no one really taught Latin nowadays, and certainly not to poor children. And it was also entirely within the realm of possibility that the phrase was something that stayed on the board all the time, so it simply hadn't been removed when whatever happened, happened, and the writer was incorrectly assigning ominous meaning to a mere teaching aid. Everything becomes creepy when surrounded by mystery and tragedy. Play a children's nursery rhyme while standing in the wreckage of a destroyed town, and see if it doesn't bring a chill.

Still, Abel couldn't shake this feeling. She couldn't overlook that Latin wasn't a normal thing to teach children. Abel only knew because she asked Father Jean to teach her. But there was something else. The end of the phrase, the first part being blocked by Leif's mother, stuck in her mind, like a pen between the spokes of a gear. It sounded familiar. And not in the sense that she knew the words, but in the sense that it felt like it was part of a common expression she'd heard before. That obnoxious tip-of-the-tongue (or brain, in this case) feeling wouldn't go away. Where did she know a common Latin phrase that ended in nulla salus? Ugh, it was going to drive her crazy until she recalled it.

Perhaps it was a good thing, then, that eventually Abel's own body intervened. Thanks to her illness and lying in bed, Abel found some peace when she fell asleep without realizing it. Funny how that could happen. One minute her brain's working a mile a minute, then just out. She hadn't even realized she'd fallen asleep until something woke her up. The hunter blinked her eyes open as a warm hand brushed over her forehead, pushing hair out of her face. She stared blearily at the swordsman who disturbed her. "What're you doing?" she mumbled, only now realizing how dry her mouth was.

"Checked your fever," Zoro answered simply, making no effort to disguise his actions.

Shifting around, realizing she'd fallen asleep with the contents of Leif's folder scattered on the bed, Abel murmured, "You should use your lips." Catching Zoro's raised eyebrow, she elaborated, "Lips have the most nerves, so they're more sensitive than hands."

His expression unreadable, Zoro leaned down and pressed his lips against Abel's forehead. Given that Zoro, the human furnace's lips felt cool in comparison, it wasn't good. Still, it was a comforting gesture. Leaning back, Zoro commented with a dry smile, "If you wanted a kiss, you could've just asked."

"It's true... but I'll keep that in mind for future reference." Pushing the blanket aside, Abel rolled out of bed. She pulled her scarf off, feeling it smothering her in her current state. The sudden cold air contacting her sweaty skin was a welcomed relief. Standing, waving off Zoro's hovering, Abel made for the sink. "The worst part about a fever is it's hard to sleep. Hot, cold, hot, cold." Turning on the tap, Abel splashed some cold water on her face, neck and nape. Drying off made her feel a little better, but her mouth still felt like a desert. How long had she been asleep?

Chucking the towel onto her bed for later use, Abel moved for the door. As she did, Dogmeat let out a whimper and tried to stand. However, still unused to his new appendage, he nearly fell off the bed, as he wasn't accustomed to having to move it. Fortunately, Zoro managed to catch him before he took a header off the bed. "No, stay," Abel scolded as Zoro placed the dog back on the bed properly. "I'll be right back."

The deck was quiet, leaving Abel wondering where everyone else had gotten to as she made a beeline for the galley. The entire way, she felt Zoro watching her like a hawk, though he didn't hover like before. This pulled at the corner of Abel's lips. It might kill him to admit it, but Zoro had a strong protective streak when it came to the others in the crew. He might not be the most outwardly affectionate, but he showed it by watching for trouble, always ready to jump in if needed.

The light in the galley nearly blinded her when she first walked in. As she blinked away the tears, Sanji was there to greet her. "Abel-dono! You're awake! Do you need something?"

"Water."

"Right away!" As if he'd pulled it out of his sleeve, Sanji quickly had an ice-cold glass of water in Abel's hands. As she chugged it down, Sanji glanced at the clock. "You've been asleep for a few hours. Chopper and the girls went out to get more supplies, but he left you some medicine to take when you woke up." Abel left enough water in the glass to comfortably down the pills Sanji fetched. Round two of antibiotics.

As Sanji refilled the glass, Abel queried, "Where's everyone else."

"Around here somewhere," Sanji replied. not nearly as concerned about keeping tabs on the guys. "I warned them all they had to keep the racket down so you could rest, or no supper."

They're probably off the ship, then, Abel reasoned. It was nigh impossible for Luffy to stay quiet for long without something to occupy him. Waving the glass at Sanji in thanks, Abel headed back to her room for more sleep. Being sick was a fairly miserable experience. The more time she could pass being unconscious, the better.


Abel frowned as she was roused unwillingly again. "Dogmeat," she murmured. "The next time someone chooses to fondle my unconscious body, bite them." Dogmeat whined in response, and Abel couldn't tell if he was apologizing or asking what "fondling" meant. Her sister's unamused face met her as she blinked her eyes open.

"Just checking you weren't dead." Caine had already retracted her hand from Abel's forehead.

Shifting to a more comfortable position, Abel drawled, "I know you didn't always listen to the old man, but surely even you know how to recognize a corpse from a distance."

Caine made some dismissive gesture with her hand. "Go back to sleep."

"I was asleep. If people would stop pestering me."

Her sister went silent, and Abel quickly began drifting back off to slumber. Or she was, until Caine cursed, followed by something falling on the floor. Abel peeled one eye open, giving her sister a half-hearted glare. Her irritation lessened somewhat at the sheer amusement of watching Caine gesture angrily at Charlie, who sat on the sofa. She must've almost tripped over the cat or something, not that the cat cared, given his blasé expression. Abel was, frankly, surprised to see him back. She'd figured he wouldn't be caught dead on the ship given what happened last time.

Different people continued to come in and out, checking on the hunter, to her annoyance. She'd always been the sort that when she was sick, she just wanted to be left alone to wallow in her misery (aka, sleep), not be coddled. Had she not been so restless from constantly switching between too hot and too cold, Abel probably wouldn't have noticed them, frequently waking up on the tail-end of someone leaving the room. But fevers were fairly miserable in that way. Kick the covers off, pull them back on, repeat ad nauseum.

By the time she gave up entirely on sleeping, Abel's body was in full sick-mode. And just in time for dinner, too. Huzzah.

Abel mentally cursed the decision to put the cabins on the opposite end of the ship from the galley, and the stairs, too, as she ponderously strode across the deck. The joints and muscles in her legs and hips ached with each step, similar to what one might feel if afflicted with arthritis. A lovely gift from the infection. It didn't help that she was having to tote Dogmeat with her. Okay, she didn't have to, and could've simply left him in her room alone. But even as her sick, grumpy self, Abel couldn't turn her back on puppy eyes and whimpers. Her poor soul couldn't take it. Thus, how she ended up carting the beast of burden.

Chopper fussed at the hunter when she came trudging in for straining herself like that. Huffing as she placed the convalesced dog on the couch, Abel sassed back, "If I had a bell I could just ring for service."

Abel didn't know if it was just because it was her, or if her sarcasm didn't come through as well when she was sick, but the others seemed to take the off-handed comment seriously. "You can use the transponder snail, Abel-dono," Sanji suggested, motioning to their two snails sleeping on the coffee table. "Then I'd be at your beck and call!"

About that time, Zoro meandered in, catching the tail-end of the conversation. "Only you would be so happy about that."

"What was that, Marimo!?"

Plopping herself on the soft couch, Abel wrapped the throw blanket around her shoulders, ignoring the bickering in favor of warding off her omnipresent chill. Immediately, Dogmeat shuffled over to her, dragging his new limb with him as he placed his head on Abel's lap. With a tired smile, Abel cupped his face. "What's wrong, boy?" she asked, holding his face to hers. She should be disturbed, staring into one gaping, empty socket. But with the remaining eye giving her the sad puppy-dog look, it was hard to feel anything but amused sympathy. "If mama's not happy, no one's happy, huh?"

Abel gave him a good head rub before scowling at the arguing duo. Coolly, she said in a slightly-louder-than-normal tone, "I have a headache." For all his complaining about Sanji's pandering, Zoro stopped arguing at the exact same time as the cook, with both having the wherewithal to look ashamed of their behavior making Abel feel worse.

Popping over from the table, Chopper held out a small powder packet. "Here, take this," he instructed. "It'll reduce pain, but doesn't have anything that will impact your fever." Fever was productive at this level, so they wouldn't touch that. But pain wasn't productive, outside of letting Abel know there was a problem in her body. But she already knew that, and thus felt no hesitation to alleviate that particular symptom. In a flash, Sanji had a cup of tea for her to down the medicine with. Seriously, was there an extra-dimensional portal in his coat sleeves? Where was he pulling these things out of?

The others began to pile in. And each one, as they crossed the threshold and spotted Abel on the couch, gave her a sympathetic look. The "normal" ones, who had been sick at some point in their lives, left her in peace. But Luffy, being as far opposite normal as one could be and still human, ran over to Abel, asking, "Are you feeling any better, Abel?"

A sharp retort was on the tip of Abel's tongue. Fortunately for Luffy, he was very puppy-like as well in his eagerness, so Abel couldn't bring herself to be mean. Instead, she settled for simply, "No."

Luffy pouted before whirling around and demanding, "Sanji! Make sure you give Abel lots of meat so she can get better!"

"Don't tell me how to cook for sick people," Sanji growled back, never turning from the stove. "Besides, Abel-dono needs something easy to digest, so as not to waste energy needed to get well." This launched a heated debate between captain and cook about the importance of meat in one's diet.

Settling on the bar pole, which Abel was beginning to notice was his preferred lounging spot, Franky eyed Dogmeat across the room. "Still not moving around?"

Abel hummed, rapping her fingers lightly against the resting dog's skull. "I can't tell if it's weighing him down or if he simply doesn't remember how to move that part of his body. He may merely be so adjusted to having three legs he's forgotten the normal motion of walking." Abel assumed Dogmeat's missing leg was the injury that killed him in his previous life, but who's to say he hadn't been living with three legs even before that? More to herself, Abel stated, "I need to come up with a physical therapy schedule..." Using a prosthetic wasn't easy. Sighing, she added, "I may have something in my office that could help... but I'd rather spoon a lathe than climb up and down that ladder right now." The phrasing earned her a guffaw from the cyborg.

Soon enough, Sanji had dinner set out before them, including a hearty bowlful to Abel. At first, she expected something like chicken broth, the classic go-to. However, it turned out to be miso soup made with mushroom. Not only was this suitable for a feverish stomach, but also a vegetarian-safe option, with Sanji still taking Caine's preferences into consideration. Of course, to appease their captain, Sanji had also included plenty of meat options. Between the chills, fever and constant thirst, the miso really hit the spot, effusing Abel's body with pleasant, content warmth. The bits of mushroom were a nice bit of meaty texture, as well.

A kerfuffle at the table caused Abel to lower her bowl. She'd missed his entrance, but Charlie had made his presence known by plonking himself down in Caine's lap without much ceremony. "You cussed cat," her sister was shouting, looking very put off by having someone sitting in her lap while trying to eat. "Does being half-blind mean you can't tell people apart? Over there's the person that likes you." Caine pointed at Abel with her fork, causing Solomon to lean his head back to avoid being stabbed in the eye.

The cat remained unmoved, however. If anything, he deliberately looked in the opposite direction of the couch. The notion of a cat giving her the cold shoulder amused Abel to no end. "I think you're a replacement," she commented, earning a huff from her sister. Abel wondered if Charlie knew he was safe in that lap. She'd always heard that cats could tell the one person in the room who didn't like them and go immediately to that person. For all her bluster, Abel knew Caine wouldn't dislodge the furry feline. She knew her sister's weaknesses. It was part of the reason why she was a vegetarian, after all.

With dinner returning to its normal brand of chaos, Abel finished her portion. Satisfied, she set the empty bowl aside after declining a second helping, and reclined. The carefree chatter of her crewmates was soothing, and Abel felt content to merely listen idly, ears switching into different conversations. Most centered around what her companions had been up to. Apparently Luffy had finally managed to drag Usopp, literally kicking and screaming it seemed, into town. Despite his initial vehement protests, it sounded like the boy had enjoyed his time out. Even if the people were a bit skittish and unfriendly.

Abel opened her eyes, not having realized they drifted shut, when there was a knock on the doorframe. Leif peeked bashfully in, not wanting to assume he was welcomed to judge barge in. When the others greeted him with their usual cheer, he sidled in. He cast concerned eyes upon Abel, and asked, "How are you feeling?"

Tired of answering the same question, Abel simply stared at him, hoping her expression was answer enough. Given how the man began to sweat and shift anxiously, she guessed it was. Coughing, Leif began hesitantly, "This might not be the best time then... but you have some visitors." At first, Abel thought it might be Father Jean, except surely he didn't still feel the need to announce himself to come aboard.

That thought swiftly went out the window, however, when both lap pets suddenly grew agitated. Dogmeat's head snapped around, ears dropping back as a distressed noise clawed at his throat, while Charlie's single eye dilated, a warning growling rumpling up his fur. While this surprised the others, it was only Abel and Zoro who were truly on alert, having been the only two so far to witness this behavior. Their first visitor they had no reason to be concerned about, with the little baker woman hesitantly stepping into the brightly lit room. She didn't look much better from when Abel and Zoro had seen her yesterday, aside from her hands being properly bandaged. Otherwise, her appearance was as disheveled as before.

Their second visitor, however...

Usopp and Chopper shrieked and ran for cover while the rest of the crew jumped to their feet. "It's you!" Zoro growled, hand at his sword. Their unwanted guest merely smiled, looking even more like a ghost than usual in the light.

"I remember you!" Luffy proclaimed, none too subtly putting himself between Abel and their visitor. "You're that creepy lady who worked for Crocodile! You tried to kill Abel!"

Miren, if Abel recalled the name she'd given Sanji before, never lost that eerily peaceful, knowing smile. It was a lot like how Robin used to be, honestly. A masked smile to keep others from knowing what she was thinking. Or maybe she just liked freaking people out. Almost seeming to glide forward, her eyes landed on Dogmeat. "Interesting... I didn't expect you to keep some of my handiwork." Perhaps he sensed something within her, or perhaps he remembered her to some extent, but Dogmeat cowered under Miren's gaze, pressing closer to Abel for safety. Did he know instinctively she might undo what she'd done?

"What are you doing here, Baroque Works?" Nami demanded, fear making her lash out.

Uncanny how a simple head turn could seem intimidating. "I'm merely a messenger." She made a light motion toward the baker, who stood beside Leif looking very nervous and confused. It wasn't clear how much she understood, but she could sense the tension in the room.

The baker almost cowled when all attention in the room shifted to her, but steeled herself. "Please," she began, her nerves making her tentative knowledge of Common choppy. "I need... help." Clutching her bandaged hands together, the baker continued, "She said... you help." She struggled to find the right word. "Jägerin."

Abel's eyes narrowed, equal parts curious and suspicious. While she had no reason to distrust the clearly distressed baker, she wasn't so sure about the necromancer's intentions on sending the woman here. "What exactly do you need hunted?" she asked at length, at least willing to hear the woman out.

A look of terror crossed the woman's face for a brief second, and she clutched her hands so tightly Abel feared she'd make them bleed again. The woman glanced furtively around the room, though not at the pirates. It was as if she were checking for something else. Cautiously, she stepped closer to Abel. Luffy almost didn't let her pass, but after seeing the plea in her eyes, stepped aside just enough to let her by. Everything about the woman's posture screamed barely contained fear as she leaned down to Abel's ear and whispered, "Sternenhimmels."

Although the others in the room couldn't hear it, they saw Abel's brows shoot up in surprise. "That's quite a big target," the hunter replied. "What need have you for that?"

Leaning back, the baker wrung her hands. "You hear... news?... der Mord?"

"Yes, we heard about the murder-slash-kidnapping," Abel both answered and translated so everyone was on the same page.

"Mein..." She paused to think of the right word. "Brother."

It took a second for the news to sink in, but eventually it was Luffy who clarified, "One of the people killed was your brother?" His tone had shifted from suspicious to slightly more sympathetic in light of this news. The baker nodded, tears beginning to prickle her eyes.

While this might've softened some of the other pirates' hearts, not everyone was so moved. "So what?" Zoro retorted sharply. "You want Abel to get revenge for you?"

Before Sanji could chastise the swordsman for his lack of compassion, the baker shouted, "Nein!" The sudden vehemence of her tone caught them off guard and silenced any arguments.

Flushing slightly at her outburst, the woman stumbled out, "Hunt means... find, yes? I need... find."

Slowly, the pieces began to click together in Abel's mind. The desperation to get into the catacombs... "You want me to find the baby they took... your nephew."

"Ja," the woman quickly said, almost with a sigh of relief.


To say the woman had been desperate when she sought out der Seher she'd heard whispers about would be an understatement. She'd spent her entire life being warned about stepping out of line or seeking out the supernatural, yet here she was, glancing over her shoulders and she made her way down a dark, quiet alley. What was the point of cowering now, though? What good had pandering and remaining like docile sheep done? Her brother and sister-in-law had never stepped a toe out of line... their father had used his position to try to appease Them, yet they still died in the most horrible way. She literally had nothing left to lose.

She clutched her old shawl closer to ward off the cold and fear as she ducked into the seedy little bar tucked into the basement of the old building. Almost instantly, thick cigarette smoke choked her. As she coughed, a few of the regular patrons glanced at her timid appearance. Given that she looked nowhere near like the usual people seeking refuge at the bottom of the bottle, they knew there was only one reason she was here. And it had nothing to do with them, so they went back to their drinks.

At the back of the bar, seemingly untouched by the smoke, der Seher watched her knowingly approach. The woman, despite her seemingly delicate frame, felt more intimidating than the hardened drunks. She looked as dead as the people she claimed to be able to speak to. Her attention followed the little baker despite never seeming to move a hair. Her smile suggested she'd been expecting the woman, deck of tarot cards already out on the table.

The woman paused by the chair, ignoring how it seemed to be out in preparation for her, waiting for her to actually be invited to sit. Der Seher only smiled, waiting patiently. Flushing, the little baker sat, almost trying to disappear into her shawl. She began to speak, but der Seher raised a hand to silence her. "No words," she said softly, voice barely a whisper yet somehow louder than a shout in the smokey room. "They might influence my readings." With one quick, practiced movement, der Seher spread the tarot cards before them, backs up. "Picture your question clearly in your mind. Once you have it, hold it, and pick three cards."

Deeply ingrained fear of the supernatural caused the little baker to stall, a death-grip on her shawl, as if it would protect her. But then she felt the sting in her fingers where she'd tried fruitlessly to open the old, sealed trapdoor into the catacombs. She reminded herself that she had little time. Who knew what was happening to her innocent nephew? Steeling herself, she said a little prayer for guidance before selecting three cards from the deck, sliding them from their siblings.

Der Seher gathered the unchosen cards before sliding the three toward her. She flipped the first one over. The pale moon looked out of place in the earth, with the water it was supposed to be reflecting on floating in the sky. "A reversed Moon," der Seher said. "A path stands before you, a line clearly drawn in the sand. Life is duality. Light and dark... good and evil... safety and danger... Is the moon setting or rising? You are afraid, confused, unhappy... yet you don't know how to proceed. You must face your fears and anxieties, and move ahead. Are the shadows closing in, or are they fading away? You must make a choice." The statements were so vague they could probably apply to anyone who came seeking answers, but they hit close enough to home to make her pay attention.

Der Seher flipped the next card. It took the little baker a second to register what the image depicted was, as it was upside down again. But when she did, it almost could have been an exact reflection of how she felt. A woman sat up in bed, holding her head in despair, as if awakened from a nightmare. On the wall above her stretched nine long swords. "Reversed Nine of Swords," der Seher said. "You are plagued by fears, worries, and anxieties... but there is hope yet. A problem long unresolved emerges again, bringing with it despair... but a chance for freedom. But you must act, for if you stay nothing will change. There will be many dangers before the end, and immense pain, but if you can avoid sinking deeper into despair you will find peace on the other side." Pain... yet a chance for peace? Could she endure?

Der Seher flipped the last card. A man stood upon a wall. He appeared injured, head and torso bandaged, yet stood tall atop the wall with the help of his long staff. Eight other flowering staves stood in the ground before the wall, all as tall and straight as the man. "The upright Nine of Wands," der Seher said. "This is the one who will help you. The Nine of Wands has stood strong in the face of many adversities, and continues to stand. They have faced many battles, and are prepared to face many more to come. They stand ready, and will not fall so long as they have fight left. They are determined. They know they stand between the arrows and slings, and the innocent. A rock... a wall... a bastion-"

Der Seher suddenly broke off, glassy eyes going wide. She surprised the baker by swiftly putting her cards away and standing. Without even looking at her, der Seher said, "Come, I will take you to your Nine of Wands."


"Der Seher says she knows you. That you fight... monsters. In the papers. No one will help."

"What deer?" Luffy asked cluelessly, glancing at Chopper, still hiding.

"It means seer, or fortune teller," Robin answered so Abel didn't have to translate. "Miss All Hallows Eve likes to read the future with her Tarot Cards."

Intrigued by this, Luffy blinked owlishly at Miren, who continued to remain standing in the doorway. "You can see the future?" he asked, seemingly forgetting about his previous anger.

Her smile twitched slightly higher. "I do not see the future," she corrected. "The cards merely give me... clues. Whispers. Hints."

Ignoring the conversation going on between her captain and enemy, Abel felt conflicted. No, that wasn't quite the truth. She knew what she wanted to do. She just also knew what the others reactions would be. And she was sick, a complicating factor. But her comrades must've known her a little too well, because when her silence stretched on, Nami snapped, "You're not seriously considering this, are you, Abel?"

When their hunter's only response was a slight quirked of the brow, those with stronger senses of self-preservation chimed in. "Didn't your priest friend say not to get involved with the Cult!?" Usopp protested. "This is kinda the opposite of not getting involved. I'm pretty sure this would make us public enemy number one... again. It's not really any of our business."

Abel couldn't stop the quirked of her lips. "None of my business, huh?" While technically true, it was a poor choice of argument, especially for someone with a long memory like Abel. "That is true. But it wasn't any of my business when a band of pirates were plotting to murder an innocent little rich girl for her inheritance. Or when pirates wanted to take over a floating restaurant. Or when a fishman held an entire island ransom. In fact, in that case, if memory serves correctly, I was specifically yelled at to leave because it wasn't my business. And we all know how that turned out." She side-eyed her crew. At least they all had the good grace to appear chastised. "We've made a career of making things our business. I daresay none of us would be here if we all just 'minded our own business.' And isn't that the ultimate freedom of being a pirate, Boss?" She turned to Luffy then, a light smirk on her face. "To do whatever we want?"

Luffy scratched the back of his head. "I guess so."

"Agro Evellite Spinas," Caine, who'd thus far remained silent, interjected.

"Indeed," Abel agreed.

Their less-learned friends were confused. "What?"

"It's a motto on one of the old family crests," Abel explained. "Pluck the thorns from the field. Or perhaps in a more modern take, get rid of the bad apples."

The entire conversation was lost on the baker, but based on the hunter's tone she hoped, "Then will you-"

"There are certain complications, however," Abel interrupted. "Like how we would get to the Cult."

"Right!" Nami agreed, eager for a way to avoid dealing with even more crazy people. "We don't know where the Cult's based."

Abel waved her off. "We know where that is. We followed them last night."

"What!?"

"We, who?" Solomon asked like he already knew the answer, thus why the dry, blank stare as Abel pointed between herself and her sister. And Caine looked every bit as unrepentant as Abel.

"And you're just now feeling the need to mention this?" Zoro growled.

Abel gave a dry stare. "We all knew they were already watching us. We simply returned the favor to see where our enemy rests their heads for when confrontation inevitably comes."

"And you didn't think to tell us?" Zoro retorted sharply.

Abel raised a brow, it on the tip of her tongue to mention how he knew something none of the other crew did. Instead, she settled for, "If it became pertinent information I would have. And it's now pertinent." The swordsman honestly looked like he was considering taking her head off. Abel wondered if it was because she had a bad habit of not telling the crew things, or if it was because she didn't tell him. She might have to ask him one day... when he didn't look ready to disown her. "The point is, we know where they are, but we can't get to them. The building has no means of entrance short of explosives. And as I'd prefer this to be a secret mission, that goes against the idea."

The room felt silent then, with some of the crew thinking and others hopeful a solution wouldn't be found. It was then that Caine spoke up again. "You said the building looked odd, right?" she asked, referring to Abel's previous observations. "What if it was like that one building we saw down in the catacombs? The one that sunk?"

Abel considered this. "That's not a bad hypothesis," she admitted. "Sunken would be a good way to describe that whole area, and Leif did say sections of the city had sunk in the past. Right?"

Said man jumped a little, surprised at being addressed after so long. "Um... yes," he answered, sweating nervously. "Sometimes entire blocks in the past. And if it's in an old section of the city, that's possible. The northern edge of the island is less stable, so it sees more collapses."

Eager to help in whatever way she could, the baker volunteered, "People say Sternenhimmels use catacombs. It's how we... don't see."

"Hence why you were so desperate to open that trapdoor," Abel summarized, earning a sheepish nod. While she internally groaned at the thought, it was clear that, "The best way, then, is to find a route inside the building via the catacombs." Swinging her feet to the floor, Abel asked to Leif, "Do you have your maps?"

"They're back at home," he answered. "But I'll hurry and retrieve them." Like a shot, the man took off, rushing back to his flat to bring the maps.

While they waited, Abel explained her idea. "If we can line up the street map with the tunnel maps you all have been working on, we might find a path." Turning to Nami, Abel asked, "Can you navigate us from up here?"

"I take it you mean with the transponder snails," Nami concluded. "If the maps show the routes I can. But still..." Nami trailed off, glowering at Miren. "What do you get outta this, huh?" Nami demanded. "Why are you dragging us in to help? You raise the dead, right? Shouldn't you be on the cultists' side?"

The woman turned her head to face Nami, but otherwise said nothing. "She can't hear you," Abel commented. "She's almost deaf, and has to read lips. That's how I got the drop on her before." Nami blinked, a surprised and slightly... bashful expression overtaking her face.

Miren's lips quirked. "I may not be able to hear you, but I can guess what you asked. You wish to know my aim. Some ulterior motive. I have none. The Furie showed me mercy when she didn't need to, and I haven't forgotten her warning. My goals are entirely self-serving. I like it here. It suits me. And I don't like these cultists who have no idea what sort of forces they're messing with ruining that."

"And you do know?" Sanji asked, ensuring his cigarette was out of the way so she could read his lips.

The necromancer's eyes clouded over even more than normal. "The dead cry out in fear. What do the dead have to fear? What can destroy a soul? The cult seeks to bring something near. A single name, whispered in fear. Haïta." It almost sounded like she was in a trance, her speech taking on a rhythmic quality, eyes staring ahead at some unseen future.

"You said that name before, asking if we knew it," Caine recalled, glancing toward her twin. "Ring any bells?"

Abel considered, but had never encountered that name before. "No," she answered simply. "If it's related to the cult, it's probably the name they give their Heavenly Star or whatever. And probably a fake one, at that. Entities aren't in the habit of giving their real names to the lambs."

"Why is that?" Luffy asked, having grown more relaxed as the conversation progressed. Their captain wasn't the sort to maintain a grudge for long. Didn't have the attention span for it.

"Names have power," Abel explained. "To know a person's name is to know that person. And for supernatural beings, knowing their name gives you power and control over them. It's a hard rule that, in order to cast out a demon, you have to force them to tell you their name. You remember how, even when I was telling you the story of how we became monster hunters, I never used His name?" Abel didn't miss how her sister's muscles tensed. "Saying a demon's name draws its attention, and the more attention a demon gets, the stronger it gets."

"Then this Haïta thing is a demon?" Sanji queried, ignoring how Usopp shushed him from calling the name in light of this news.

"It's a possibility," Abel answered. "Demons do like to pretend to be other things to trick people into trusting them. But it could be anything. Could even be a human pretending to be a god. Wouldn't be the first time." They couldn't disagree there.

About that time, Leif returned. The man must've run like the devil was on his heels, given his out-of-breath state. After dropping the maps on the table, Chopper fussed over him, forcing the man to sit down and catch his breath. Leaving Chopper to it, Abel spread the city map on the table. "So we're here, right?" she asked, more to Nami than anyone else. Based on their position in the southwestern corner of the island, Abel and Caine did their best to retrace the path they took last night. "There's the bakery... and we passed the church this way..." Abel drew her fingers along the maze of roads, using landmarks more than anything else to recreate the midnight path.

"We turned right, there," Caine interjected, pointing at the map. "I remember that business sign."

As they zigged and zagged along the map, Abel mused, "They really were leading us in a roundabout way." With a bird's eye view, it was clear the cultist's trail was meant to confuse anyone who might follow.

"Think they knew you were there?" Zoro asked.

"Maybe," Abel admitted, not wanting to blindly rule it out. "But it's just as likely it's mere habit upon returning to home base." If Abel were up to something nefarious, she probably wouldn't take a straight path to her lair, even if she had no reason to think someone might follow her. Classic villain mentality.

In the end, Abel's finger landed in a block in the old district on the northwestern edge of the map. Based on the lack of labeling on any of the buildings in that area, it must've been either residential or abandoned. Keeping her finger in place, Abel held an expectant hand out to Nami. The woman raised a brow for a moment, as if wondering something, before placing a red pen in her hand. Abel smiled, not at all surprised Nami kept writing tools on hand. Popping the cap off with her thumb, Abel eyed the map for a moment, recalling the layout of the street in the dark, before circling an unmarked building, the bright red standing out clearly on the otherwise faded and colorless map. "This one," she announced. "I remember it was at the intersection."

"That section of the city is quite abandoned," Leif commented, having caught his breath. "Many of the tunnels in that area are unstable, with whole blocks of buildings sinking. You can't see it on the map, but the northern shore is dotted with sinkholes and sea caves. It's believed the tide washing into those openings has caused the ground on the northern side to be less structurally sound. And I know for a fact that many of the caves feed into those old tunnels. No one dares live in that area for fear of a sinkhole popping up."

"Perfect place for an evil lair, if you ask me," Sanji drawled. "They can come and go as they please."

"They could always reinforce the tunnels they use," Robin pointed out.

Abel made a face. "People who deal with demons aren't typically the most concerned with self-preservation." Brushing that aside, Abel asked their navigator, "Do the tunnels lead there?"

Although her expression told Abel Nami's wasn't happy about the idea of helping her with such a dangerous task, there was no one else she trusted with such a task. With her pride on the line, Nami placed the working catacombs maps over the city map. Thanks to the sketches being on thinner paper, it created a translucent overlay. Nami had to find some reference points that she knew linked up to the streets to line the maps up appropriately. By doing so, they were able to see very clearly that there was a spiderweb of tunnels in that area. Intently focused on the map, Nami's eyes darted around the tunnels. "There should be a path..." she admitted with extreme hesitance. "But I still don't think it's a good idea."

"When was the last time we did something that was a good idea?" Abel asked. "The least bad plan is for you to guide a small group of us through the tunnels using this map on the transponder snails. We sneak in, hopefully taking the cult off-guard with this ludicrous plan, find the baby, and sneak out before they even know we're there."

"You make it sound so easy..." Usopp groaned.

"That's why I said a small group. The rest need to be on standby in case things go belly up." Placing her hands on her knees, Abel had to hoist herself to stand. Her joints protested loudly, forcing Abel to hide a wince. "Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more," she groaned, her swollen joints making her feel like an old machine in need of oiling. A body at rest will stay at rest, indeed.

"Wait!" Chopper protested, jumping down from his seat to run over to Abel. "You're not going!"

"Wouldn't be very fair of me not to as it's my idea."

"But you're sick!"

Abel waved a hand dismissively. "Sick up here, sick down there. It's not as if I can catch Haverhill Fever again."

"I agree with Chopper, Abel-dono," Sanji was quick to say, stepping forward. "You should be resting, not chasing off after cultists."

"All the more reason for Red to find the most expedient route." Abel wasn't sure if the scowl on said woman's face was from the responsibility being foisted on her, or Abel implying she wouldn't pick the best path to begin with.

Slightly distressed, Chopper tried a different tactic. "Luffy, do something!" he pleaded. "She's too sick to go!" Surely Abel would listen to their captain, right? Maybe?

Abel found it hilarious that Luffy tried to look all business standing before her. He seemed to contemplate something, taking in the slight flush on the hunter's face. Unexpectedly, he slapped his palm against Abel's forehead. Abel smirked as the boy tried to look like he knew what he was doing. "You're still hot," he concluded, taking his hand away. Though she wasn't as bad as that time Nami had gotten sick.

"Yep."

"Sick people are supposed to rest, right?"

"Yes."

"But you still want to do this."

"Correct."

Luffy crossed his arms, seeming to nod at some train of thought. "Okay." A chorus of complaints resounded from the others, but Luffy swiftly and definitively brought them to an end. "If Abel thinks it's a risk worth taking, then I trust her judgement." He gave the pleasantly surprised hunter a grin. "I can't exactly tell you not to after all the crazy stuff you let me do, can I?"

Abel smirked in response. "You're the best, Boss." There were more rumblings of discontent, but if both Abel and Luffy's minds were made up, then damn near nothing could change that.

Dogmeat tried to rise to his feet, but his new limb continued to weigh him down. "No, love," Abel gently chastised, cupping his face. "You'd be too much of a burden as you are now. Stay here and get used to that leg. Keep an eye on him," Abel instructed to whoever was staying behind.

As she moved to the coffee table, Abel heard the jangle of her sister's swords. "I'll go with you."

"Then I'll go as well," Solomon volunteered.

"Me, too!"

"Hold your horses," Abel interrupted, already knowing the guys would all want to go, especially in her weakened state. "The family is enough. We don't need a small army to sneak in. And I'd feel better knowing you guys were waiting in the wing just in case the worst did come to pass. If things go bad, you'll be able to bust into the hideout to rescue us." It was no surprise that their own Monster Trio wasn't happy about this, but it was hard to argue with that logic. Or Abel when her mind was made up in general.

"Franky, can you open a welded shut trapdoor?" Abel asked, indicating the decision was made.

"No problem!"

Abel nodded, glancing at their baker. "We'll use the trapdoor in your house. That will be the least obvious way. Got that, Red?"

"Yeah..." the woman muttered in response, already planning out the best path.

Satisfied with the plan, and that the others were begrudgingly following it, Abel said, "Let's go, Watson."

"Watson?"

Abel picked up the little sleeping den den mushi. "Yes, Watson."

Cocking his head, Luffy asked, "What's the big one's name?"

"Crick."

"Why?"

"Dunno. Sounded like good snail names."

It was a testament - either to how much she'd beaten them down or how well she stroked their egos - that the guys didn't protest too much about Abel's plan despite their misgivings. Oh, they weren't happy. They made that fact abundantly clear. They just didn't actively try to stop her. Chopper was the only one who vehemently protested, stopping just short of physically restraining her. In the end, though, Abel's silent persistence won out, and Chopper relented. Only after giving her a fever reducer and strict orders to hurry up. Rather than cheekily pointing out that rushing while sick was counterproductive like she wanted to, Abel merely gave a weak salute.

Caine waited outside while Abel collected her gear. After all, all she needed was her sword and her husband, neither of which was usually very far. Never knowing what might happen, Abel didn't leave any of her gear behind, gathering weapons on top of tucking Watson into her ever-present pack. Stealth was her intent, hoping to get in and out without the cult noticing their presence, but she wasn't going to risk being caught unprepared. After double-checking, Abel, Franky and the baker (who'd finally introduced herself properly as Gerry) joined the others outside. "I'll call as soon as we're in the tunnels," Abel told Nami, ready with Crick to guide them.

"Keep it on when you're inside," Usopp warned. "Y'know, so Luffy and the other will know if they need to come help." No one chose to comment on how he left himself out of that rescue scenario.

"Don't get caught and sacrificed," Robin said with a smile, earning shrieks from the others. Abel truly didn't know if the woman was just that morbid, or if she did to get a rise out of everyone. Probably both.

Gerry tensely led them back to her shop. The late hour, combined with recent events, resulted in the streets remaining mostly empty. A few people walked briskly by, obviously quick to complete whatever errand had brought them out of safety so they could return, paying no need to anything else around them. Gerry led them down to the cellar. As Abel lit the lantern overhead, illuminating their task, Franky whipped out his tools. An acetylene torch. "Everyone stand back," he warned as he knelt by the trapdoor, one large hand sweeping out dramatically to clear the area. Grinning to himself, a man who loved his work, Franky flipped his shades down over his eyes as he turned the tank on, flames spouting from the nozzle. Twisting the nozzle to focus the flame into a short but very intense, white-hot fire, he lowered the torch to the welding sealing the door closed.

Sparks erupted from the cutting, jumping off to the ground from the immense heat created, bits of molten metal falling to the ground. Not enough to start a fire, but enough that they'd risk getting burnt if they came too close. The sunglasses weren't just a choice, but necessary protection against the blinding glare of the fire. Abel wondered about Franky's lack of protection. Normally this sort of work required a shield and gloves, at minimum. But with his metal body, perhaps things like that weren't a problem for him anymore. His hands and forearms, at least, were all metal. Abel found herself again wondering at the limitations of having a cyborg body. He could feel pain in some parts, but not all. Could he feel heat or cold? He probably felt some, but not to the same extent as a normal human, given that he'd wear a coat but no pants. So many questions.

Keeping her gaze away from the bright flame, Abel glanced at Gerry. "You know if we find your nephew, the Sternenhimmels will come after you first." Clutching her hands, Gerry merely gave a somber nod. "What do you plan to do then?"

"Ich weiß es nicht," she said, admitting she didn't have a plan for that far. "But we do nothing before and see what happen. Maybe I... verlassen." Abel smirked at the woman's choice of words, telling more about how she felt than she let on. Abandon, forsake, desert... Abel felt those were appropriate reactions to all this bullshite. "Try to make Papa come with," she continued. "Always target. Important but... mule?" She glanced at Abel, clearly knowing her choice of word wasn't right. "That right?"

"You mean stubborn?"

"Ja! Very stubborn." She turned back to watch the strange, pantsless man work. "Maybe this change."

Abel wondered if what Gerry felt was how the people of Labyrinthe felt when it had its own cultist problems. But that was the thing about ruling with fear; it was a careful balancing act. Fear only works when people have something to lose. Push them too far, make it so they have nothing left to lose, and they lose their fear. Abel never learned if her family was contacted to come to Labyrinthe to merely heard rumors. But if she could make just one person's life better, then she'd be happy.

In short order, Franky had cut through the welding all the way around the door. "There!" he announced upon completion, grinning proudly. Undaunted by the still-hot rim, Franky opened the hatch. Years of unuse made the hinge rusty, and it protested very loudly at opening, making everyone in the room wince. With some elbow grease, Franky managed to open the stubborn lid enough for them to climb through.

As cold, stagnant air wafted up through the hatch, Abel lit the lantern they'd brought and held it over the opening. An old, unused ladder stretched down into the darkness. Jiggling it with her hand, Abel was satisfied that it would hold. She wouldn't deny to herself the sense of trepidation and general not wanting to be here. She hadn't forgotten what happened last time, and generally felt like crap. Unfortunately, there's no rest of the weary. "Here we go," she said.

As she slid her legs down onto the ladder, trying to balance while holding the lantern in one hand, Gerry stepped forward. "Please, be careful," she pleaded, feeling torn between hopeful for their help and worried for their safety. She wanted more than anything to find her nephew, but would feel awful if something happened to these strangers because of her request.

"As careful as we can be," Abel replied, not promising anything either way.

Back into the fray, Abel thought as she climbed down the rusty, old ladder, steadily leaving the warm safety of the above world for the cold darkness of the underground. Her boots rattled the ladder with each step, bouncing off the narrow shaft walls, creating a cacophony that didn't settle her unease. While it was reassuring that the catacombs were far enough down from people's houses, it didn't make her journey any easier. Eventually, however, she didn't feel a rung beneath her foot when she attempted a step. Glancing down, Abel discovered the ladder ended, leaving a little drop to the ground below. Clutching the lantern, Abel dropped the few remaining feet. When her feet thudded on the dusty stone ground, Abel took a quick survey of their surroundings. This tunnel was thinner than some of the others they'd traversed, making Abel think it might've been a service tunnel between routes. A place only a few people were expected to travel through at a time.

Tilting her head back, Abel called, "Okay," to the others, giving the all clear.

As she heard the others climbing down, Abel stepped ahead, giving them space. They'd have to go single-file through this narrow corridor. She rubbed her hands against her arms. Without a fever, the catacombs were cold; with one, it was freezing. It did offer some relief from her own body heat, but it alternately sent chills up her arms. She hadn't missed this place in the days since her last visit, and told herself that if she had her choice, this would be the last time she visited. It was interesting at first, but now the new had worn out.

Solomon dropped down behind her, with Caine making her way down after him, once again taking the rear guard. Rifling through her pack, Abel handed the lantern over to Solomon for the moment, fishing out Watson. Holding the little guy so he was facing her, Abel reported in. "Can you read me, Red?"

There was a moment's delay before Nami's voice came through the snail's mouth. "We hear you, Abel. Is everything all right."

"As it can be," she replied, watching as Caine dropped down, her swords clattering loudly. Waving to Franky above, Abel focused on the path ahead of them. "We're in. Looks like we're in a narrow tunnel under the bakery, running..." Abel paused for a moment, trying to remember the directionality of the surroundings above. "North and south," she concluded, estimating they were roughly running the same direction as the main street.

"Okay... good." They heard rustling, probably Nami leaning over the map. "I've traced out the most direct path. You're gonna go north along that tunnel for three blocks. You should pass... one... two... four branching paths on the left. You'll take the fifth path on the left. The street above is Noltemeyers."

"Roger," Abel responded.

"And keep the line open!" Nami warned.

"Roger."

After a moment's consideration, Abel rested Watson on her shoulder, facing forward so she could easily talk into him with the turn of her head. She found the sensation of his sticky... it was foot, right? His sticky foot stuck effortlessly to her shoulder. Wrapping part of her scarf around him, as it was well known snails didn't do well in cold weather, Abel took the lantern back from Solomon and led the way, keeping one hand lightly cupping Watson so he didn't fall off.

Back on the surface, the crew waited tensely for the next report. One of the many benefits of den den mushi is that they can not only transmit voices, but ambient sounds. This left them with at least being able to hear the infiltration party's steps, the faint pattering of feet against hard stone barely audible. The guys were oddly attentive, despite the slow pace, perhaps more alert for possible dangers with Abel's sickly state. At the first hint of trouble, they'd be storming that cult base. They just needed an excuse.

Conversation was kept to a minimum. Something about the ambience of the catacombs just made everyone want to stay as silent as possible. And when Abel did speak, reading off the street labels or reporting on passing another tunnel, she did so in a low murmur. Dark places where the dead rested just tended to have that effect on people. Eventually, Abel's voice came over the line saying, "We found Noltemeyers. To the west, right?"

"Yeah," Nami answered, double-checking her next instructions. "You'll follow that for a block then turn north. The next tunnel doesn't match with one of the roads, but it should be the next tunnel after the one under Baxter. It'll take you most of the way there."

There came a brief pause before Abel countered, "Change of plans, Red. That path is completely collapsed."

"Crap," Nami mumbled. "You sure?"

"Am I sure there's a giant, immovable pile of rubble right in front of me? Yes."

Mentally cursing, Nami said, "Give me a sec. I have to find a new route." The one she'd plan was the most direct. Now she'd have to recalculate.

Slightly less clearly, being farther away from Watson, they heard Caine grouse sarcastically, "Take your time."

In the tunnels, the infiltration team could do nothing but wait until Nami did her thing. Abel felt so tempted to sit down and rest, but knew it would just make it harder for her to get up and keep moving. She settled for leaning against the wall, holding her arms close to herself and choosing to ignore the watchful stare of her sister. This wasn't the sickest she'd ever felt, but she'd certainly be glad to be done and back in bed. Darn overactive scruples.

Heavy, oppressive silence lingered over them like a blanket of blubber. If she listened hard enough Abel could swear she heard the tunnels breathing, the ebb and flow of air clearly audible in the stillness. Letting her gaze shift sluggishly around, Abel noted silently on Solomon's behavior in the tunnels. It was his first time, but he didn't show many outward signs of discomfort. Or at least nothing more than a normal, reasonable person would show. Abel could give the devil his dues... even if she'd die before she ever admitted it to him. But the man was always the more prudent of the pair, probably why her sister was still alive. He cast a furtive glance at Abel, quickly looking away when she caught him staring. It almost made the hunter smile.

Musings on terrorizing her in-laws were cast aside when Nami's voice finally broke in again. "All right. I've recalculated the most direct path, but you have to go back a bit. Go back to the tunnel you were just in and head south." As Nami described their new path, Abel held the lantern up into the tunnel for better viewing. "Take the first path on the left, heading east. Let me know when you get to a large antechamber, and we'll go from there."

Peering down the dark hall, Abel thought she saw the outline of the tunnel Nami referred to. "That one there? Got it."

The new path was a bit rougher than the previous, hewn from the stone in a very haphazard sort of way. The walls, floor and ceiling were all uneven, forcing the party to step carefully over large bits of rock and around resting puddles. They took it slowly, with Abel constantly twisting around so her companions could make use of the light and not fall. Abel flinched as she had to hold her free hand against the wall to steady herself, feeling the gritty, wet texture.

Fortunately, their suffering was short-lived, as it didn't take long for them to crawl out of the tunnel into a large chamber. Glancing at the path they'd come from, Abel guessed it must've been dug to connect this with the other tunnel long after the others were built, and in a hurry. "We're here, Red," Abel reported, holding the lantern up to take in the large, new room. Another storage or stopping point, the chamber was roughly rectangular. Larger than the previous rooms, but not large enough to need additional supports to keep the ceiling from collapsing. The far north wall, unlike the others, had been constructed from brick, some of the mortar cracked and flaking.

"Good," Nami answered. "There should be a path to the north."

This gave the party pause. "There is no path north," Abel reported.

"... there should be."

"Well, there's not," Caine snapped. "In fact, beside the way we just came, there's no way out."

More rustling came through, followed by Nami mumbling to herself, "It shows there's a tunnel leading from there north..."

"Wait," Solomon said, speaking up for the first time since they'd started. He eyed the brick wall suspiciously. "Isn't it weird that there's brick here, when everything else is carved into the stone? Maybe they built this wall later, to block the path?"

The sisters exchanged a glance. "That's not out of the question," Abel admitted, agreeing with the man. It was odd that it was the only masonry structure, and conveniently blocking the route Nami said should be there.

They all stood before the wall, eyeing it disdainfully. Pressing her hands to the brick, Abel tried to gauge the solidity of the structure. "It feels pretty sturdy. Will take some force to break it." She took a few steps back, eyes narrowing in thought.

"Yeah, but how do we break it without bringing the whole cave down on us?" Caine rightly asked.

"I think I know," her sister was quick to say, already searching for something. Caine and Solomon raised a brow, but held their tongues, never knowing what was going on in the other woman's head.

Handing both the lantern and Watson to Solomon for safekeeping, Abel held up a... shell? More to keep the crew in the loop than them, Abel said, "I've got my impact dial."

"Good idea, Abel-dono!" Sanji's voice crooned through Watson, forcing the snail to adopt his facial features for a moment.

Pointing at Caine, Abel explained, "I want you to think about how much force you'd need to use to crack that wall- crack, but not obliterate, and then swing at me with that much force." Abel held the dial up in her hands, as if she intended to catch the blow.

While the pirates understood why this was a good plan, her family was sadly out of the loop. "Are you mad!?" Caine whispered harshly.

"This handy little device," Abel interrupted, "Can absorb any force thrown at it. So long as you hit it and not me, it'll be fine." Seeing her sister didn't look convinced, Abel sighed. "Fine. If it'll make you feel better, I'll put it on the ground, and you can hit it." Setting the dial on the dirty ground, Abel stood back. "There."

While the other two still didn't look convinced, Luffy's cheerful voice popping in. "Trust her! Those things are really cool!"

Caine made a face, clearly questioning why the coolness of something meant it would do what Abel claimed, but reluctantly decided to humor her. Pulling out her greatsword, Caine hoisted it over her shoulder, preparing for a downward swing. She glanced at the wall for a moment, trying to get an idea of how hard she'd have to swing to merely crack it. "Okay, stand back," she warned.

Neither Caine nor Solomon knew what to expect... or rather, fully expected Caine to break the delicate little shell. Of course, Abel knew better. And despite her sickness, she couldn't help smirking at their gobsmacked expressions when, as Caine swung her sword down on the shell, it stopped against it, only creating a sharp gust of wind from the motion. "Good work," she complimented, reveling in Caine's gawking. Her sister stared at her own sword like it betrayed her somehow.

Rather than talking about the intricacies, the dials were best explained through demonstration. Picking up the still-smoking shell, Abel held it against the brick wall, estimating the middle point, as that should be the structurally weakest. "Stand back" she warned, repeating Caine's words earlier. After they shuffled back, Abel braced herself before pushing the apex. The stored force hit the wall with an audible thud, a spiderweb of fracture lines racing from the epicenter outward. Dust shot into the air, causing them to cough. As a few chunks of brick fell away from the center of the force, Abel stepped back. The wall gave away as she pushed against it, falling in chunks until they'd created a big enough hole for them to fit through. Even through the dim light, Abel saw what was hidden behind. "Found it," she announced. Hidden behind the wall was the path Nami said should be there.

As she put the dial away and took back her lantern and snail, Caine asked Abel, "Where did you get that thing?"

Abel's lips quirked. "The sky."

Leaving Caine to stare at her like she wasn't sure if she believed her own sister, Abel stretched the lantern into the new tunnel. "Looks like it goes down," she commented, noting the sharp decline.

"It should lead under the canal, so that makes sense," Nami replied.

Nodding to herself, Abel warned, "Everyone watch their step."

The trio carefully headed down the hidden tunnel, mindful of the steep decline. The ground here was well-trodden, compacted through years of use, which meant it had little to offer in terms of traction. They had to keep a hand out against the wall to steady themselves, as one slip on the smooth ground would mean a long and painful slide to the bottom. They could tell when they passed under the canal that bisected Ravensburg, when water began to trickle from the ceiling. Pools formed on the dirt ground, oversaturated from the constant moisture. The echo of droplets splashing into said pool punctuated their otherwise silent steps, creating a surreally peaceful atmosphere. Assuming one didn't think about the fact they were under a body of water.

Voicing her thoughts, Caine asked solemnly, "Anyone else wonder why that wall was blocking this path?"

"To keep us out, obviously," Solomon answered. Why did anyone build a wall?

"Well, yeah. But why?"

"There could be sinister or benign reasons," Abel replied. "You can want people to stay out for many reasons. It could be as simple as it serving as a dike or floodwall, to keep water out of the rest of the tunnels in case the canal collapsed. I guess we'll find out on the other side." Not everything had to have ill intent, but it was good to be suspicious. As the path began to even out before inclining, Abel added, "We'll find out soon."

Climbing up the smooth slope was even more difficult, with almost nothing to help aid their footing. They had to keep their centers of gravity low and forward to avoid falling back. The trail up, however, was decidedly shorter, evening out and stretching off into more tunnels soon. Pausing at the top to catch her breath, Abel mused, "This side of the catacombs seems deeper than the other."

"That's not surprising," Leif's voice came through, the man having been surprisingly silent thus far. "The northern side of the island is older, and so are the tunnels. Eventually it was decided it was too inefficient to dig so deep."

Nodding to herself, Abel asked, "Where to next, Red?"

"Stay on that path. It'll eventually curve around to the west and take you straight to that area of the city where the temple should be. Just don't go off that path and you should be fine."

Before they could get started, however, Abel noticed something glinting in the lantern light. Stretching her arm up to see properly, Abel's eyes widened at her discovery. "I don't think we're alone down here."

"What? What is it?" Caine quickly asked, and somehow Abel heard the silence over the line as everyone held their breath.

"Look," she replied, reaching out her free hand to the object dangling from the ceiling. A lightbulb hung from the ceiling. "Someone's rigged up electricity down here," she concluded, fingers caressing the bulb. It was cold, meaning the lights hadn't been on recently.

Pointing over her shoulder, Solomon added, "There. You can see the lines on the ceiling." True enough, bare power lines had been attached to the ceiling, stretching back and providing the potential energy for the string of bulbs they now noticed dotted the ceiling periodically.

"That... would be a new feature," Leif murmured.

Pulling her hand away, Abel rubbed her fingers together. "They're not dusty, meaning they're a recent addition."

"Keep your guard up," Caine warned, glancing furtively at the numerous side tunnels. New lights had to mean someone was using these tunnels consistently enough to bother running electricity down here and tend to it. This was the perfect place for an ambush if she'd ever seen one.

Part of Abel wanted to douse the light to minimize the chances of being spotted, but she didn't relish the idea of navigating this labyrinth in pitch blackness. Carefully, the trio traversed the tunnel, keeping both eyes and ears peeled for any signs of life. On the bright side, these lights should lead them where they wanted to go. There had to be a switch somewhere at the end.

It wasn't too long, however, before Abel thought she heard something. Coming to a halt, Abel held her hand up, silently signaling for everyone to stop. Turning her head slightly, she pressed a finger to her lips, the universal sign to shut up. Catching Watson's eyestalks, the little snail seemed to nod, screwing his mouth up. Was that... the snail equivalent of silent mode? Everyone remained tense, ears straining against the heavy silence. Without their footsteps or the clanking of metal, all that could be heard was the breathing of the cavern. That familiar raspy rattle of air filtering through the old corridors. Only... was it getting closer?

Abel's back straightened, hair standing on end at the thought, and she honed in on that sound. It was definitely the same raspy, gasping sound. Like a person on death's door, unable to suck in enough air, only to let what little they had out in a painful rattle. But this time, there was another sound accompanying it. A faint, irregular clicking. Like... a person walking in high heels. Click, click, click... click... cli-click. A very drunk person, by the pattern of clicks. A drunk, asthmatic person in high heels... in the middle of the catacombs... coming right for them. Yeah, I'm not dealing with this right now.

Quickly, Abel blew out their lantern. Immediately, the dark clawed at their eyes, blinding them in the pitch. It was difficult in the dark, but she motioned the others into the nearest side tunnel. Keeping her eyes in the direction of the clicking, Abel used her hands to feel her way back. She didn't stop until she bumped into the person behind her, huddling together. Hopefully they were far enough off the path, and hidden in the darkness, to go unnoticed. It was in moments like this Abel realized just how rarely people experience total darkness. The complete absence of light. This made even the darkest night, when the moon and stars were hidden and all sources of light doused, seem like high noon in comparison. Still, there must be some light somewhere in this tunnel, as Abel's eyes began to very slightly adjust. At least enough to make out where the two tunnels met.

The warm presence of her sister and brother-in-law offered some comfort, though their breathing sounded deafeningly loud as they waited in silence for the noise to pass. Feeling Watson shivering against her shoulder, Abel lightly cupped him with her hand as she crouched low, comforting him and grounding herself. The sound had to be just around the corner, now. She heard a raspy hiss, almost like a snake, before it came up to their tunnel.

Abel's eyes widened, though it did little to help her see, and she felt certain she forgot to breathe for a second. It was... well, she didn't really know. It wasn't a human, that was for damned sure. In the gloom, it was hard for Abel's brain to make sense out of it. Whatever it was, it must live in the tunnels, because its skin was white, almost translucent. Even the people above, who were at times sickly pale, never had skin like this. It brought to mind species of fish that live in caves where the sun never reaches. The pale skin made it stand out slightly from its surroundings. As did its constant, jittery movements. A multitude of legs wobbled beneath what seemed like the central body, creating the clicking sound they'd heard before. Abel couldn't see its feet, but guessed it must be from claws or some such. The legs moved, the stalk-like upper body swaying slightly as it did. The creature crouched down then, legs curling under it like how a spider does when you kill it, before letting out another raspy hiss. The top of the body moved independently from the rest of it, making Abel think that was the head looking around. Or, most likely, listening around. Most cave creatures were blind, with no need to see when there was no light to see with.

Although instinct told her to hold her breath, Abel knew better. Instead, she focused on keeping her breaths nice and even, gentle. Trying not to breathe would just make more noise. While she had no reason to think an arrow to the head part wouldn't kill the thing, they were trying to be stealthy. If the cultists found this... thing dead with an arrow in it, they'd know someone was here. She at least wanted to wait until after they found out if the kid was alive.

Another hiss sent a shiver down Abel's spine, like the sound of silverware scraping together. A pit formed in her stomach as she thought about the fact that this was probably the origin of the breathing sounds she'd heard on their very first visit. Was this the movement she thought she saw from that candle room? The idea that this thing might have been right on the other side of the wall and she never knew made her feel a little uneasy. Or were there more? Abel wasn't sure which answer would be worse. Suddenly she wasn't too keen on letting the others continue their explorations. How had Leif never run into one of these things?

Standing, the thing looked ready to continue on its way. As it stood, though, its tall head hit one of the bulbs dangling above. The creature let out a horrifying shriek, similar to its rasp but leagues higher and more aggressive in pitch. Rearing up on its back legs, the creature lunged with its front, stomping on the ground. Abel caught a glimpse of needle-like feet, perfect for stabbing. The creature sunk back down, jittering even worse from before as it seemed to be listening for its "enemy". It really did seem like some giant spider-beast, if it weren't for the strange body shape. Or like someone had taught an octopus how to walk on land, even if it only seemed to have six legs. When it didn't hear anything, the creature stood and slowly ambled its way further down the tunnel, out of sight.

No one moved a muscle for several minutes even after they no longer heard the creature. Slowly, Abel relit the lantern. Given that the creature was probably blind, she could've probably lit it before, but the sound alone might've drawn its ire. Peering carefully down the tunnel, Abel felt some of the tension leave her. This was the signal for the others, and she heard them sigh behind her. Abel groaned as she stood fully again. Standing crouched for so long made her sore joints feel even worse. She had much pity on people with arthritis. Rubbing her knees, Abel whispered, "Okay." She still didn't trust to make a lot of noise. For all she knew, it had heard them before and came to investigate. Tilting her head, she asked, "Are you guys still there?"

"What happened?" Nami's voice asked, sounding worried, but muffled. Was Watson modulating the voice to a lower volume? What a smart little guy. She'd have to get them some bananas or something sweet as a reward.

"We're not alone down here," Abel advised. "And it's not human."

"Guard dog?"

"After a fashion. Keep the chatter to a minimum from here on out. We don't know who or what might be listening." Abel thought she heard Usopp saying how he knew this was a bad idea, but it was in the background.

Knowing that thing, or something else like it, could be closing in on them at any moment, urged the trio onward at a more hurried pace than before. They didn't run, and were extra mindful of the noise they made, but they moved with a lot more surety and purpose. Their eyes constantly darted about, lingering in each side tunnel for any sign of movement. A deep rumble echoed overhead, though it was unclear if it was from some movement above them, or thunder. Step by tense step they moved closer to their destination, following Nami's advice and the string of lights above.

Making a wide, gentle turn toward the west, it wasn't long before their trail came to an end. A building, sunken from the ground above, blocked the tunnel. Ordinarily, this would be cause for Abel to radio in about needing a new path, but that didn't seem to be the case this time. Because a large, ornate doorway greeted them, creating a path inside the building. Abel held the light up, studying the doorway more clearly. It obviously hadn't originally been here before the building sunk, as it lacked a proper doorframe. Instead, at some point some intrepid soul had removed the bricks to create this entryway, likely to make traversing this tunnel easier. "Look at that," Solomon murmured, motioning to the symbols carved into the bricks surrounding the door. Ornate, and painstaking.

Turning the light down a little, Abel whispered, "I think we're close."

Peeking around the frame, Abel surveyed the interior, checking for anyone inside. The room had been dimly lit with candles, creating a soft, eerie ambience, but one that allowed her to see well inside. Once she was certain there was no one inside, Abel entered the building.

It was impossible to tell what the room had once been, as very little remained. It sat mostly empty, save for some candelabra dotted around. And given how they all still held lit candles, Abel guessed these weren't originally part of the building. An old, worn, red rug led from the doorway to the front of the hall, into another room that lay out of their field of light. The only other thing in the room were some old tapestries, laying lifelessly in the still air. They were the same deep red as the carpet, with a faded white symbol on the center. Caine and Abel shared a look. It was the same symbol they saw on the front of that build. The star with a flaming eye in the middle. If there was any doubt they were in the cult's territory before, it was gone now.

To save their oil, Abel doused the lantern, grabbing a singular candlestick from a nearby holder. They stepped softly on the carpet, following the regal procession around the corner and into the next room. It was much the same as the first, empty save for the candles. If Abel doubted that hidden room she'd found before wasn't related to the cult and its practices, that doubt had been allayed by now. Just how far did their machinations extend?

The carpet in the next room split in two directions, right and left. Pausing, Abel asked, "Should we search the building before proceeding?"

Caine frowned thoughtfully. "This isn't the building we saw... but they're clearly using it."

"We should check, just to be sure," Solomon agreed. Just because this wasn't the main building didn't mean the baby couldn't be kept here. They needed to be thorough.

"On the bright side, I don't think that thing can fit through the door," Abel commented.

Guessing that the path left led outside, they headed right, following the carpet as it led down a narrow hallway before ending at the flight of stairs. Abel paused at the landing, straining her ears to pick up any sounds of people walking above. But all remained silent. So silent that Abel flinched as her step caused the wooden steps to creak loudly, old and worn with time. Trying to hug the wall both to minimize her sound and get a better view of what was coming, Abel slowly made her way up. Her heart throbbed in her chest, the adrenaline rush of sneaking around somewhere she shouldn't be kicking in. All of her senses felt heightened. She kept her eyes fixated just beyond the scope of her candle, keeping them adjusted to the dark. Her ears were attuned to every little sound, from the breath of her companions, to the soft scattering of dust hitting the ground from the unused stairs. She took things slow, each foot slowly adding pressure on the ground, as if afraid she'd spring a trap at any second. Her skin tingled, and not from the chills, but from every sense stretching beyond its bounds.

The landing above came to another long hallway, red carpet stretching before them, cut off by the various doors lining the hall. They checked each one, checking for any souls, living or otherwise inside. These were similarly empty, but definitely at some point inhabited. More obscure, esoteric murals lined the walls, carved or painted into the old walls... some of them were a faded shade of rusty brown that Abel didn't want to think of the implications for. Primitive cots dotted some of the rooms, beds made simply from straw and a single, threadbare blanket. Had it not been from some of the personal effects lingering about, Abel might've thought this was a prison cell. Old cups and plates sat around the cots. One even had a book, clearly well-used based off the discolored and dog-eared pages. Abel didn't pick it up, but did flip the cover open. She wasn't surprised to find incoherent scratchings inside.

If these were what passed as living quarters, then the other rooms were meditation and prayer rooms. Old, flattened-out pillows dotted around, even more incomprehensible books beside them for the practitioners to write their thoughts and prayers to this Haïta. One small room, a closet at the end, must've been used as solitary confinement. Straw covered the floor, with a disquieting number of scratch marks on the inside of the door and around the doorframe. A glance at the floor above revealed it to be the new ground-level floor. Completely empty and boarded up.

With no signs of anyone, especially not a baby, the group headed back to the bottom floor. As Abel suspected, there was an exit out into the blocked tunnel, only this time it was through a repurposed window. Even if they hadn't encountered that last building, the moment Abel set eyes on the tunnel, she'd know they were on the right track. Her nose crinkled at the tunnel stretching before them. If they ever wondered why there weren't as many corpses in their previous explorations, well, they found them. Skulls lined both walls and the ceiling, empty sockets forever silently watching whoever was foolish enough to pass through these halls. They'd been painted over in black, giving an extra layer of darkness to the tunnel. Some of them had white paint on their faces, crudely drawn symbols offering a macabre reprieve from the darkness. Some, even less respectfully, had candles burnt into their sockets or jaws. Those unlucky skulls appeared to have extra-pained grimaces perpetually frozen on their faces.

The strange sense of not wanting to further anger these lost souls overcame Abel, forcing her to walk with her arms close to her body in fear of accidentally brushing against one of these skulls. Hazarding a glance behind her, Abel observed the stoic expression on Solomon's face as he forced himself not to look at anywhere but the floor. Behind him, Caine had a perpetual scowl, more angry than disgusted for some reason.

The macabre path led forward for a long stretch before bending slightly north. As they rounded the corner, Abel came up short. An ominous sight lay before them. The tunnel continued on, leading them straight to one of the more ornate doors she'd ever seen. The skull procession ended right before it, leaving the walls bare to be painted in pristine whites and deep red whirls. Unlike all the old structures they were used to see down here, this door looked well-maintained. The candles burning around it were almost as bright as the sun, especially in the gloom that surrounded them. The door looked heavy, and reinforced in steel, more at home barring to the way to a fort than this random, decrepit place. The group exchanged a knowing glance before Abel broke their long silence to report, "We've found the entrance to their temple."

"Be careful," Nami whispered. Like they needed to be reminded.

It took all three of them pulling on the heavy, wrought iron handles to even inch the doors open enough for them to enter. What lay on the other side was once a basement, but now... if anything, it looked like a morgue. Old, outdated gurneys sat about the sides of the room, so neglected it looked like one would need a tetanus shot if they so much as brushed them. The scent of blood was heady, lingering in the air thick enough that Abel worried Caine was going to vomit. Her sister gagged, quickly pulling her turtleneck up over her nose in a vain attempt to stave off the fragrance. Abel couldn't blame her. Even with her stouter stomach for such things, she still felt it roil in the heavy musk. It probably didn't help that frankincense was mixed in. Whether it was intended to undo the blood odor or carry the pungent offering to their god, Abel neither knew nor cared.

The stairs sat at the back of the room, forcing them to traverse the entire, terrible length of the basement. A distressing number of gurneys had stained sheets draped over them... disturbingly lumpy... with knives and scalpels protruding out like surgical porcupines. Faint noises echoed from the floors above, immediately putting them even more on edge than they already were. There was definitely someone here. In fact, the entire building felt alive. Alive... and suffering. Death reeked in this place, worse than any morgue or graveyard Abel had ever been in. It coated the place, sticking to Abel's skin, weighing her down. It seeped into the pores.

Abel kept glancing furtively about the place. She could almost swear she heard whispering from the unseen corners. Breathing. Not like the thing before. The sort of breathing that old places did. A constant... hollowness that could never seem to be filled, sucking you deeper in.

"Has someone, anyone, seen my eyes?"

Abel's hair stood on end and she whirled around, candle almost snuffing out as she yanked it around with her. Her heel hit an empty, discarded bottle, sending it clanking across the floor. The voice, soft, tired, plaintive, sounded as if it had been right behind her. As if the person had whispered it directly into her ear. Yet nothing but darkness lay behind her, aside from her concerned companions. Clutching her hand to her heart, Abel willed herself to calm. "What is it?" Caine asked, trying to keep her voice low.

"Did you hear someone else talking before?" Abel asked.

Solomon and Caine exchanged a confused glance before answering, "... no."

"It's just you," Nami's muffled voice answered.

"I swore I heard-" Before she could continue, a loud wail came from somewhere above. It sounded enraged, followed by something heavy smashing against the floor. Dust fell from the ceiling around them, suggesting it was just above them. Everyone, including the pirates still on the ship, jumped at the terrifying shriek. Steeling herself, Abel made a snap decision. "You guys don't need to hear this. No one needs to hear this..." Before they could protest, Abel put Watson to sleep, disconnecting for the time being. She wasn't going to subject her crew to whatever horror was going on here. Bad enough seeing it in person. How much worse if they could only hear it?

"Let's find this kid and get the hell out of here," Caine advised, growing even more tense with each passing second.

Seeing that there was light above, Abel wisely chose to put their candle out before climbing the stairs at the very back of the room. They were wide, splitting off to both sides above, forcing Abel to walk backwards to see if there was anything directly above them. The floor above was oddly ornate, and if it weren't for the sheer horror of... everything, Abel might've once been awed by the sight. Once upon a time, it must've been a magnificent building. Perhaps an old archive, or university? Everything was in dark, aged oak, still rich in color in the flickering candlelight. Abel couldn't see how many floors up the building was, but it was far more than she expected to find. It just seemed to go on and on. Was this even the same building they'd found the night before? Surely it wasn't this tall. Or were they just deeper in the ground than Abel anticipated?

The ground floor they were now on was the only solid floor. All the rest were balconies jutting out from the floors above, wrapping all around them. The buttresses supporting these balconies created covered alcoves around the perimeter of each floor, making it feel both expansive yet secluded. At the very center of the building stood a massive pillar, the biggest Abel had ever seen, both in height and girth. Staircases spiraled off it at various levels, seemingly in random directions. Like, the staircase ahead of them led logically to a platform surrounding the pillar one floor up. But one staircase off that platform curled back to connect two stories above. And another staircase, attached to one of the balconies, illogically curved all the way around the far side of the pillar and reached up to one of the floors she couldn't even see. It was like some mad architect's nightmare. Fortunately, candle sconces lined the place, giving them adequate, if dim, light.

Unfortunately, this also allowed them to see what it was that made the noise before. It wasn't like the thing in the tunnels. It was... or had the frame of a human. Tall, gaunt and gangly, dressed in a hospital gown of sort. Were it not for the taught skin stretched over it, Abel might've mistaken it for a skeleton. Its back was to them, so Abel couldn't see its face, but it appeared to have a burlap sack over its head. It shambled along, carting... was that an IV stand? As it turned, Abel observed that it was indeed, complete with an IV still attached to its scrawny arm. The thing suddenly let out another shriek, before slamming the end of the stand on the ground like a warhammer, attacking some unseen foe. Bits of wood scattered under the for, and it knocked over a stack of old books left sitting in a pile on the floor.

As the thing turned to face them, Abel held back a gasp. Though it wasn't necessarily for the same reason her companions reeled. What she had thought was a burlap sack was actually skin, stretched taut over its head, completely covering its face. Even at this distance, in the dim light, Abel saw the telltale signs of sutures along its neck where the sack of skin had been sewn. That's why it had an IV, because its mouth (as well as its eyes, nose and ears) was completely encased in skin. But it wasn't that in itself that nearly made a pit form in Abel's stomach so hard it nearly brought her to her knees. No, it was because she'd seen this before. How could she ever forget that image? The boy in the box.

It shouldn't have surprised Abel to learn that the discarded, abused body had come from this island. They had found him right before landing here. But that revelation caused everything to shift in Abel's mind. As long as she lived, she'd never forget that image, no matter how much she might try. Mutilated, tortured... clutching at an old teddy bear. Blind, mute, forgotten and cast away. There was no way for Abel to ever know who that boy had been. But now... Abel swallowed, even as she felt tears prickling her eyes. She knew now, beyond the shadow of a doubt, what fate would befall the toddler should they fail to find him quickly. Something stronger than fear welled up inside her, then. Pity and ire in equal measures. Pity for these poor, lost souls, and ire toward those who wronged them so. They pushed down the horror and fear that threatened to overwhelm. The Marines had named her rightly, as the Furie would exact swift justice for those who couldn't. A Bastion didn't run from horror. A Bastion stood. A Bastion was made of sterner stuff than this.

That was why Abel didn't run from the horrors around her, nor did she turn from them. She embraced every groan, every scream that echoed on these walls, letting them wash over her and stoke the flame within. Later, she might break down when it all caught up with her. But for now, she would withstand it. And in the distance, a baby cried.

Steeling herself for no doubt the worse to come, Abel silently motioned for the stairs. She couldn't tell exactly where the sound was coming from, other than above. Caine seemed to have righted herself, face hard with determination. Solomon wasn't quite as hardened, but took comfort in his wife's presence. What was the point of being married if you couldn't borrow each other's strength?

Silent as death, the group traversed the labyrinth, navigating the confusing maze of stairs, always heading up. They passed many closed doors, behind which they heard cries and groans, whispers and pleas. For death, or something else? A few more victims wandered aimlessly around the halls. So long as they didn't make any noise or touch them, the victims never noticed they were there. Although it hurt Abel's heart to leave others to suffer so, they couldn't stop to offer peace to everyone here. At least, not right now. Perhaps, when things came to a head with the Sternenhimmels, as Abel suspected they would, they could raid this place and take the time to see who could be saved and who couldn't.

Abel only paused once in her trailing of the baby's cries. She'd passed by a victim strapped into a chair, head covered in that awful flesh sack, when it- he, spoke to her. "... kill me..." Abel paused, turning to him. Although his frame was emaciated as everyone else, his voice was that of an old man. He sounded tired. Abel didn't know how he knew she was there, but he seemed to watch her from behind sightless eyes. Sensing he had her attention, he spoke a little louder, using what energy he had for this chance at rest. "Please, just kill me..." he tried again. Maybe this time his captors would take pity on him. "Free me from this place... before I go mad." His voice strained at the end.

Stepping closer, Abel smelled the painkillers being fed into him via the IV. A "gift" from the cultists, no doubt, to keep him alive and sedated while they did... whatever the hell this was supposed to accomplish. At least she could help this one man. Stepping forward, Abel turned up the drip of the IV, increasing the levels of the painkiller feeding into him.

The man sighed, feeling the cold fluid running through him. "... thank you..."

Requiem aeternam dona ei, Domine, et lux perpetua luceat ei. Requiescat in pace. Abel stared at the man long after he'd passed, until a noise from above interrupted. Voices, ringing down from the floors above. It was indistinct at first, muffled over the persistent sounds of suffering around them. But as the voices grew louder, everything else quieted. Until they could tell it was chanting of some sort. Feeling Caine jab her in the side, Abel glowered before following her pointing. Around them, the victims were placated by the chanting, growing less restless, as if being lulled to sleep by the hushed murmuring.

Now, as a general rule, you should run away if you hear chanting in indistinct languages. But in this case, it might be just what they needed. Thus, how the trio found themselves climbing even higher, following the sounds.

In the end, they had to clamber across a thick rafter to even reach the door where the chanting came from. How did anyone get anywhere in this building? Stealthily, Abel cracked the door open. The chanting became less muffled, but no less unintelligible. Inside was a grand room. It stretched out long before them, with a domed ceiling at the far end. Ornate canopied beds line both walls, each with various bottles situated nearby. Abel couldn't tell if this was the main living chamber for the cultists, or just where they put "successful" victims. That wasn't important.

What was important was the altar at the far end of the room, flanked by several figures in dark robes. The altar sat upon a dais that looked like it could be raised or lowered, judging by the thick chains attached to all corners. Three tall statues stood around the altar, one on the back and one at the head and feet, respectively. The statue behind the altar wore a tall, ornate helm, signifying some importance. Its hands were stretched out over the altar, holding a tome. The two statues at the ends were robed, hands clasped together in prayer. Abel couldn't help noticing the cloth on the altar had the same fiery star symbol. But, more importantly, Abel saw a small form kicking from under the cloth.

There were three cultists, their attention solely focused on whatever ritual they were conducting. That would work to their benefit. Abel motioned for the other two to go around the left, while she went to the right, creeping between the wall and the beds. Their chanting drowned out any footsteps they might make. One cultist stood at the altar, while the other two sat on the floor behind them, bowed in prayer. Creeping up to the side of the last bed, Abel got her bow ready. As much as she'd love to kill these bastards, they were trying to be sneaky, so she loaded a concussive shot. It would knock them out but not kill them. Checking that the others were in position, Abel trailed her sights on the cultist closest to her. She fired, landing a direct hit on the temple. The cultist flew the side from the impact, naturally gaining the attention of the other two. Before they could even process what was happening, however, Caine and Solomon were already on them. Caine knocked out the one at the altar with the flat of her blade. While Solomon, proving he'd listened to their father's lessons, knocked the last one out with some applied pressure to the carotid artery.

Caine roughly shoved the cultist to the side before pulling the cloth off the altar. A tiny baby babbled, kicking wildly. As he was unclothed, it was easy to see he was unharmed. They all let out a collective sigh of relief. Feeling some of the tension leaving her shoulders, Abel pulled Watson out, awakening him. "We have the baby. He's uninjured."

A huge sigh came over the line, followed swiftly by Nami chastising, "Don't ever do that again!"

"Hurry and get back here!" Usopp added.

While Caine found some clean clothes to wrap the baby up in, cradling him close, Abel and Solomon swiftly worked to bind and gag the cultists, hiding them under the frilly underskirt of the beds. Hopefully, it'd be some time before they woke up. Enough time for them to get out of the catacombs, at least. "Let's hurry," Solomon urged. Without hesitation, Caine handed the baby over to him, where the man carefully cradled him to his chest.

Ignoring the wistful way Caine watched her husband handling a baby, Abel gave one final cursory glance across the altar. It was surprisingly clean of blood. Maybe they anointed their new "sacrifices" here before smashing their bones and reassembling them for whatever nefarious purposes. Abel then noticed writing etched into the top. Again, just like the writing they'd found outside the secret entrance into the catacombs, it being in Latin threw her off. Why not Germanic? EXTRA ECCLESIAM NULLA SALUS.

Abel's eyes slowly widened as it felt like a cold hand gripped her chest as the writing sunk in. Extra Ecclesiam nulla salus... nulla salus... Why was she seeing two matching Latin phrases from what should be two widely different sources on a single day? Why was part of what Leif's missing mother wrote to teach her students showing up again here, in this pit of misery?

"Abel, c'mon!" her sister hissed at her, breaking Abel's train of thought.

"Right." There was no point standing here thinking about it, as the altar would offer no answers. Casting a final gaze at the writing as she turned to flee, Abel pondered, Outside the Church there's no salvation, huh?

The infiltration party used more haste and less discretion upon leaving the horrible temple. Climbing down from the rafters with a baby in tow was tricky, leading to the interesting solution of Abel dangling Solomon by his collar over the edge of Caine to catch. Not the sort of thing he'd normally trust his sister-in-law to do, but it was better than trusting her to catch him. Their antics agitated a few of the more restless victims, more active now that the chanting had ceased, but it was easy enough to bypass their blind attacks. Who knew how long it would be before the baby started crying again? And they didn't want that leading the cultists, or anything else lurking in the tunnels, right to them.

It was a tense journey back, but they figured they could afford to run if it meant getting out of here sooner. They could outpace whatever might be following them. And at this point, they didn't really need to be stealthy, so Abel would have no qualms about shooting anything that got in their way. Luckily, aside from some distant hisses, they reached the ladder under the bakery with no troubles. They let Solomon up first, who'd done a remarkable job of keeping the baby quiet. They'd expected to have a ball of screaming fury the entire way, but aside from some fussy noises, they barely noticed him.

Abel picked up the pace up the ladder when she heard a commotion above. She didn't expect to find the mayor, of all people, there. The man definitely looked worse for the wear than when they last saw him, huffing out of Father Jean's church. Dark bags lined under his eyes, and his mustache wasn't as groomed as before. A conflicted expression was on his face as he stared at the group climbing from the tunnel. It wasn't until Gerry, having hurriedly snatched the baby away from Solomon the instant she saw them, held the boy up to him and began babbling through her joyous tears that his hard visage cracked. His arms came protectively around them both, his eyes tearing as he mumbled quietly to the baby. Abel couldn't catch a lot of the garbled Germanic, but she heard Gerry refer to the mayor as "Papa," which helped illuminate the situation.

Trying to brush aside his tears to maintain some semblance of dignity, the old mayor's eyes flicked to Abel's. She saw a moment of fear flash through his old, greying eyes before he grabbed her by the shoulders. Abel let out a noise, and she saw Franky and Caine ready to light into the man, before he exclaimed with barely contained panic. "You must leave this island at once! They're coming for you!"

To Be Continued...