Chapter Summary: Zoro catches Mihawk up a bit on what he's missed back home. The swordsmen then meet Doctor Fate, and learn startling news.
"What are you doing outside my door?" is the first thing that comes out of Zoro's mouth the moment he decides it's time to eat breakfast and finds Dracule Mihawk waiting for him outside in the hall.
Mihawk, leaning against the wall, dressed in his usual garb with Yoru strapped to his back, gives him a bored, deadpan look. "I'd prefer not to have my breakfast interrupted just because you got lost and got into something you shouldn't have. Or worse — decide the best way to get anywhere is to start cutting through the walls."
Zoro tries not to snarl. "I wouldn't!" He insists.
His rival gives him a look that plainly makes it clear that he doesn't believe Zoro, before turning around to leave, beckoning the younger man over with a single look. Zoro is not so immature enough to defy him just for tangentially ordering him around, but he is just a touch irritated. There is no question anymore about who this man is. Only Dracule Mihawk had it in him to boss him around like this, like every order he made would only need to be uttered once and obeyed. Even Nami's screeching cannot compare, and Zoro furiously resents his mentor all the more for it.
At least this time Mihawk doesn't grab his sleeve like he would an errant child. Being dragged around is where Zoro drew the line.
The cafeteria is like the rest of the Watchtower. Silver, futuristic, and wholly both like and unlike any other mess hall Zoro has ever seen. There is no wood, just metal, and instead of long tables with benches, there are circular ones with chairs. Already there are cooks lining up behind the counters, laying out food and making more. One of them notices them and approaches them, caution in their eyes.
"You must be the guests," he says. "Just grab a tray and plate and take what you like. The food is free and unlimited."
Zoro eyes the amount of food being made — it looks enough to give Luffy a half-decent meal, which is in no way a small amount. "A lot of food being made for eight people," he comments.
The cook shrugs. "The Flash has a high metabolism thanks to his super speed," he replies, "and the food isn't just for the Justice League. It's for the support staff too."
The swordsman supposes that makes sense. Mihawk is already on the first stall, filling his own plate, and Zoro quickly follows him. The food is familiar, at least; the crew had traveled to all four of the Blue Seas after conquering the Grand Line for the sake of accomplishing Nami's dream. The cook had been sure to accumulate a number of recipes from each of those seas, and rarely ever made the same meal twice unless it was specifically requested. As far as he could tell, the dishes here resemble stuff from West Blue, with a touch of South Blue thrown in.
After gathering his own meal and picking up a pitcher of orange juice, he quickly locates Mihawk and sits himself down at the same table as his mentor, setting his own swords down next to his chosen chair. The man already has Yoru propped up against his own chair, with his tricorn hanging on one of the corners of the back seat, eating slowly and deliberately. Zoro takes the seat across from him and begins eating himself, the silence comfortable and familiar. He can almost pretend they are back on Kuraigana for his two years of training. All they are missing is Perona's incessant prattling about 'cute' things.
As the meal begins to wind down, though, the tension returns, though for an entirely different reason. Zoro is swallowing the last of his orange juice when Hawk-Eyes finally opens his mouth and says something that Zoro has been dreading ever since he had enough time to process the fact that the man was alive again. "Straw Hat is dead, isn't he?"
His grip on the glass tightens, but he stops himself for he breaks it into pieces. The one-eyed swordsman inhales deeply, settling his nerves, before landing a neutral glare on the man across from him. Mihawk is stoic and emotionless as ever, his eyes ever-piercing. "That obvious?" Zoro asks, not bothering to deny it.
"Only to someone who knows you," Mihawk lightly responds. Then, "How?"
Zoro stills as the memories flash through his mind — firebloodlight — and allows himself a bittersweet smirk. "How do you think? Taking down the World Government." Because for all his similarities to Roger, Luffy was not Roger, and the kind of death he got in the end was a million times better than going to the gallows to start a new era. After all, Luffy had started an entirely new world.
The older man hums thoughtfully. "…Was it a good death?"
And it is here, Zoro feels his breath hitch. "…the best kind of death," he answers truthfully, if painfully. "The kind of death no one ever forgets."
He can feel Mihawk's gaze tightening, sharpening, and he meets it head on without a flinch. "It took the entire world to kill him…" Zoro continues, and his smirk takes a proud edge, with just the tiniest hint of bloodlust to make it look positively demonic, "…and he still won in the end."
The moment holds for what seems like an eternity, and then Mihawk returns the smirk, sardonic and impressed all in one. "Good," he responds with a hint of respect, leaning back into his chair, "From Straw Hat, I'd expect nothing less."
Zoro can't help but agree, and leans back into his chair. The silence holds again, but with that elephant out in the open and no longer bearing its weight upon them, he feels a lot more willing to talk.
"Wanna know what else went on while you were dead?"
Mihawk allows Roronoa's words to flow over him, taking note of what interested him and passing over what didn't. As expected, a new generation of Emperors had taken over the New World after the downfall of the previous ones, each heralding from the same generation as his young rival and his late captain. Straw Hat and his crew had been considered apart from them and above them, but they were still powerful nonetheless, no less than their predecessors. Trafalgar Law, one of Mihawk's former fellow Warlords; Eustass Kid, vicious and violent as ever; Jewelry Bonney, a gluttonous enigma; and, to Mihawk's slight amusement, X. Drake, the former Marine rear admiral.
What made them differ from the previous generation is that, unlike their predecessors, the four of them and the Pirate King got along. They frequently collaborated (usually due to Straw Hats notoriously forceful propositions of friendship and adventurous whims) and rarely warred with each other. It was this camaraderie that had been partial to the World Government's downfall — apparently each of the Emperors had taken a personal part in the direct assault on Mariejois alongside Straw Hat.
Roronoa had been vague on the details of the assault, and what exactly led to the World Government's destruction, but Mihawk could not blame him. The death of his captain had only been a scant few months ago. Mihawk had seen the strong bond between them firsthand when he first met them both all those years ago in the weakest sea, and they had only known each other for a few weeks at best at the time. That bond had only grown in the intervening time between that meeting and his next one with Roronoa, to the point that his successor had thrown away his pride and begged for teaching from his greatest enemy, his life's goal, for the sake of getting stronger for his captain and crew.
Well over a decade had passed since then, and Mihawk could only imagine how powerful that bond had been before it had been unwillingly broken by the unforgiving scythe of oblivion. Not even Roronoa, as strong-willed and stubborn as he was, could ever be unaffected by such a loss. If Mihawk is to ever learn about what happened that day, it will not be any time soon.
The sole solace, it seems, is that Straw Hat did not go quietly. No, if Roronoa is to be believed (and Mihawk knows for a fact that this man is no liar), Straw Hat had gone out magnificently. Mihawk is not surprised in the least; his respect for Straw Hat had only increased over the years as the boy fulfilled his potential and proved that Shanks' decision to sacrifice his arm for him had not been in vain. Whatever death he had, for Roronoa to say it had been the "best kind", that he had fought the entire world and died and still won in the end — it couldn't have been anything less. The man had been the Pirate King in the end, after all.
The world… Mihawk closes his eyes. The other grand revelation. The downfall of the World Government.
He couldn't exactly say the news was displeasing. Dracule Mihawk had held no true love for the old government. He had been disgusted with many of their practices even if he hadn't cared enough to do anything about them himself. He had joined the Warlords, but only so he wouldn't have to deal with the Marines and pesky, weakling bounty hunters. He had fulfilled his obligations to them, but only because he was honorable and a professional and didn't want to deal with any troublesome fallout.
The World Government had, at best, only ever been a means to an end for him; a way to keep the minor annoyances out of his life so he could devote himself to his swordsmanship, and even that proved to be hardly worth it when so few proved worthy enough to have even a taste of it. When the day of the system's abolishment came and he had been stripped of his title, Mihawk had all but welcomed it. That title, for all its benefits, had been one of the engines of his perpetual boredom. He had almost been glad to be rid of it.
No, the downfall of the World Government did not trouble him. If anything, it made him curious, even eager. A tumultuous world was anything but boring, and Mihawk wanted to see what it was like, if it resembled the onset of the Golden Age of Piracy. Maybe it was even more chaotic than the Rampaging Age, the Age of the Worst Generation? Considering all the chaos Roronoa and his crew had wrought before his death, it would be quite the achievement.
"You've got that look in your eyes."
Mihawk casts a bored look at his companion. "What look?"
"That look," Roronoa repeats, scowling as he crosses his arms. "The same look you had before you blinded one of my eyes to force me to learn Observation Haki. Nothing ever good comes from that look."
"I'm surprised, Roronoa — I did not realize you observed me so closely during our time together."
That, of course, is a lie; Roronoa had been a diligent student, and the fact that he was training to kill his teacher had only made him even more devoted to his master's teachings. Only Mihawk had ever been harder on him than Roronoa had been on himself, and Roronoa had been very hard on himself.
That correlated to studying the teacher himself. Roronoa had done his best to hide it, but Mihawk would be a fool not to see the way his apprentice drunk in every single one of his movements any time they were in the vicinity of each other and the boy wasn't distracted by training. Whether it was out of deep respect and admiration or a desire to glean potential weaknesses of his future foe or some combination thereof, it did not matter. The end result was the same, and Roronoa, in some ways, knew him better than anyone else in the world besides Shanks and, perhaps, Perona.
Case in point, the flat look Roronoa is giving him now. His young companion has not been fooled by his words, has seen the lie. He does not call Mihawk on it, but only because he knows better. Mihawk will never admit to the truth, and they both know it.
It is refreshing, in a way. Being at the top is a lonely existence, but he had rarely minded because so very few had proven worthy of his company. That said, it did not mean loneliness could not wear away at him. To have a companion, one of the few men in any world he truly respected and one who knew him in ways few others did, is welcome, even if Roronoa is completely irreverent and almost irritating at times.
He opens his mouth to prompt the conversation further, when his Observation Haki signals to him the arrival of the one called Martian Manhunter. Judging by the slight narrowing of his single eye, Roronoa has sensed the 'hero' as well. Mihawk stills his tongue, and awaits the arrival of one of their hosts. Whatever remaining questions he has can wait until they learn about their prospects of returning home.
Doctor Fate's arrival came with little fanfare. The man appeared in one of his Ankh portals, as if the millions of dollars Bruce spent on the security meant nothing to him. Considering that Fate is the most powerful sorcerer on the planet, it probably doesn't; if there is any benefit to having the man on the shortlist to join the Justice League when the Unlimited Expansion is implemented, is that they can get around to finally having some serious magical protections for the Watchtower. None of the Justice League want to deal with a sorcerer of equal strength and far less virtues than their already morally ambiguous ally. Their current situation is proof enough of that.
Of course, Fate's arrival, while important, is overshadowed by another recent development — the conversation between their two guests. Batman had been alerted about it by J'onn and the security team when he first arrived to the Watchtower, and had immediately had it filed away for future reference. If Fate's answers are not the ones they wanted, then any information they have on these two reticent warriors would be pivotal if they ever go rogue.
Not that anyone can tell by looking at Fate. The man's helmet is completely expressionless, and he is always tense, like he is now. It seems they will have to wait until he spoke before they learn anything substantial, whether they are to give their well wishes to these two men immediately or to start planning for the long haul. Whatever the case, everyone knows Bruce has already planned the necessary contingencies; now all that is left is the verdict.
The moment J'onn arrives with Zoro and Mihawk, the entire room stands at attention. The entire Justice League is here, each waiting anxiously. By contrast, the swordsmen look entirely at ease, almost bored. Only Fate seems to pique their interest, and even then the novelty passes soon enough with little fanfare.
"I spent all of yesterday analyzing the castle where le Fay conducted the ritual," the Lord of Order speaks once they are all seated. Only he is standing, at the precipice between the two sides. Everyone's attention is on him, waiting anxiously. "From what I managed to glean and scry, she had somehow managed to acquire and use the Amulet of First Magic to perform the summoning."
"The Amulet of First Magic?" John voices the question on everyone's mind.
"The original source of all Earthly magic," Fate explains. "A powerful mystical artifact that served as the conduit for magic on this planet until the magic of other dimensions seeped in and empowered the ley lines here. Outside of bargaining with some other dimensional being, it is the only way le Fay could have amassed enough power to summon these two." He squares his eyes on the two outliers. "Summoning someone so powerful, let alone two, would be draining for someone even of my caliber."
"What does that mean, exactly?" Zoro asks, and while his voice is neutral, there is an undercurrent of danger and a touch of desperation in his voice.
Instead of outright answering, Fate summons an amethyst amulet in his left hand, a washed out gem hanging by a single cord. "This was the Amulet. It's been completely depleted of energy. After analyzing the components of the ritual le Fay used and my own analysis of your magical signatures, I concluded that you two are not just powerful beings, but ones summoned from a world that is far from our own on the multiversal plane. It is possible to send you back, but the magical energy needed will be substantial. I will need time to amass the necessary amount."
It is in that moment that everyone hears it. The catch. Because each and every single one of the people in this room has been in enough situations like this to realize that the moment Fate had started monologuing, sending the two men back wasn't going to be as easy as they had all hoped.
After a moment of tense silence, it is Mihawk that decides to take the plunge.
"How long?"
Fate stares at them both for another long moment, before finally answering. "At least five years."
One can almost hear a pin drop.
And before anyone knows it, the metal table rends in two, courtesy of the fist Zoro slams into its center.
So, I decided to use the Amulet of First Magic (the same Amulet used in the episode "Kid's Stuff") for this. That means that episode won't be happening (and thus Mordred is staying an eternal child). And yup, summoning our two swordsmen was enough to completely drain the magic in the amulet, meaning they're stuck in the DCAU for a while.
In other news, I hope you liked the bit about what happened the past ten years between Mihawk's death and their arrival to the DCAU. There will be more on what happened mentioned later on in the story, but this is it for now.
And yeah. Mihawk cut Zoro's eye to help him learn Observation Haki. Because that's exactly the kind of thing he would do.