Sanji leaned against the wall, cheek scraping on the rough concrete, and pressed a hand to his heart. The agony of it all was unbearable, criminal. He'd never felt so helpless. His mellorine was fighting for him, and he was too exhausted to properly appreciate it! Truly, a level of emotional pain like no other.

He watched as Nami jogged down the hall ahead and tried to concentrate on how lovely she looked as she smashed the face of a mustachioed guard in. His vision tunneled suddenly, but he held onto the copper curtain of her hair and swing of her delicate-yet-impressively-toned arm like a lifeline. Things slowly came back into focus.

It was, he'd found, at least a useful diversion away from the physical pain that seemed to eat at his nerve endings whenever he properly gave it any attention. In a moment of sobering honestly that he didn't usually afford himself, he wondered if he'd gone too far this time. No doubt the swordsman would have something snide to say about it after all this.

He pushed off the wall as Nami returned, nightstick swinging in her hand like the lashing tail of a cat. She'd held back, he thought, but no guards moved after she took out their mutual ire on them. Her warm brown eyes were alight with adrenaline and retribution. Wordlessly, she slid under his arm again, and together they made their halting way down the hallway once more.

As they followed the passage, Sanji studied the creaking walls uneasily. The bombs had, mostly, done the job they were meant to. The guardhouse had been a wreck of pulverized concrete and bodies–though the latter looked to be Zoro and Penguin's work–and he wasn't entirely certain they'd been able to retrieve the swords judging from the state of the Devil Fruit block's doorway. He and Nami had gone through the main hallway door unsure of what they'd have to deal with. As it turned out, not much.

Guards in various states of consciousness appeared at intervals down the hall, and Nami took care of any that looked to be trouble. Loud sounds and impacts reverberated through the concrete and shook the walls occasionally, but they met no real resistance. When they turned the bend that led to the main doors, they paused.

The structure here had taken the most damage, and the walls closest to the doors had collapsed inward. It looked as though some of the debris had been cleared, however, and deep, sharp gouges marked the sides, slicing clean through the metal double doors.

Sanji smiled. So he had managed to get his swords. He quickly scanned the wreckage and bodies around the door. There was no sign of Chasseur. His smile faded.

They pressed on, but as they got closer, something kept catching at his attention. He swiveled his head back and forth to see if they'd missed any guards, but nothing moved. Nami glanced at him.

"What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "Not sure. There's something…"

They passed under a vent and he stopped, looked up. The grating was ever so slightly askew. A thought struck him.

"Nami, can you get up there and take a quick look inside?"

"In the vent…?"

She looked at him curiously but obliged, using an unconscious guard as a stepping stool. The grate slid aside easily, and she peered in.

"There's a knapsack…and…oh!"

Nami got a better grip on the edge and pulled herself up. She reached an arm in and when it came out, she was holding a tiny Den Den Mushi. It was murmuring a steady stream of information very softly. She hopped down and handed it to Sanji. He accepted the tiny snail and stroked its head.

"Is that…a marine transponder?!"

Sanji smiled tiredly at her. "It is. I took it off an officer before we came here. Penguin had it when he set out, but…"

He looked up at the vent and though the angle was sharp, he could just make out an internal wall inside of the tight ventilation chute. His eyes tracked down and ahead across the hall to where there was one last vent on the south side. It was right by the exit, and the grating there had been blown completely off. He thought he could guess what had landed the Heart Pirate in Disco's room now.

"At any rate, it seems like something's happening…"

They listened intently to the snail.

"...ORITY 3. SABAODY UNITS DISPATCH IMMEDIATELY. GROVE 1, PUBLIC EMPLOYMENT SECURITY OFFICE. PRIORITIZE CELESTIALS. PACIFISTA UNITS ON SITE. MORE UNITS EN ROUTE. I REPEAT, PRIORITY 3. SABAODY…"

They looked at each other. Sanji tucked the snail into his pocket, and Nami quickly took up position under his arm. Together they shuffled as fast as they could through the doors and out into the auction house.

What they emerged into was both what Sanji had expected in his heart of hearts and yet still made his mouth hang open a little. When he'd told Zoro to "take it all down," he'd envisioned a bit of wanton destruction here and there. A wall or two with new holes, maybe even a little structural damage. But this… It couldn't all be Zoro, could it?

A beam suddenly cut through the ceiling space far above their heads, and Nami tugged him urgently to one side as crate-sized blocks of plaster dropped to the backstage floor. When they both looked up again, a guard stood before them, short sword leveled at their chests. Nami tightened her grip on the nightstick she held flat against her thigh. Sanji adjusted his stance, the sole of his left foot already lifting in anticipation.

"Hold it ri– Oh! It's you!" The guard's face shifted from wary to friendly relief so fast that Sanji thought his vision was playing tricks on him again.

Sanji blinked at him as another guard clanked up, spear out.

The first guard waved his gauntlet at the other one. "It's all right, Jeffers! It's that cook! You know, the one from my homesea!"

The second guard lifted his visor and peered at Sanji's face. "Oh yeah, the North Blue guy with the really good spoon thingies!"

The first guard nodded enthusiastically and Sanji suddenly recalled them from his earlier rounds with the hors d'oeuvres. It felt like years ago.

"You have to evacuate," the first guard said, with an anxious look over his shoulder at where several guards at the far end were passing through what remained of the walkway doors he'd come through earlier. "There are pirates loose in the auction house, and they're tearing the place apart!"

Sanji noted the tell-tale slashes on the metal frame, and it took all of his willpower not to follow the arrows he'd been left.

The second guard seemed to notice then the blood on his face and shirt, and his eyes moved to Nami. Her slave garb was unmistakable, as was the nightstick in her hand. The guard's face hardened behind the visor. Sanji took a deep breath and straightened.

"We'd surely like to. I was sent by Saint Mesala to collect her latest purchase–he lifted his chin at Nami–when I was attacked by those very same pirates. It's a terrible mess below. We had to arm ourselves for protection."

At his side, Sanji could feel Nami relax, but her curiosity was almost a tangible thing. She caught on quickly, though, and lowered her eyes demurely.

The guards stiffened at the Celestial's name. As Sanji suspected, the woman was known at the auction house, and judging by their reaction, she was also one that they didn't wish to know more of.

Another high-pitched whine of energy cut the air and both guards turned their heads. The auction house shuddered, and a deafening boom swallowed the yells and cries of the crowd on the other side of the stage wall. When the guards looked back, Sanji knew they were in the clear. There were bigger problems than a questionable cook with a paper-thin story and an armed slave.

The guard with the spear ran off to join his fellows by the wrecked doors, and the first guard started but then turned back to them.

"Go through the black curtain to your right there! There's a side door to the guard station by the stage. You can cut through there to get to an exit and outside."

Sanji let out a breath and wilted slightly in relief against Nami's firm shoulder.

"I seriously need to find another line of work," the guard muttered as he turned again to go. "You've got the right idea. Cooking's way safer than this…"

Sanji hesitated, then reached out a hand. He tapped a finger against the guard's spiked pauldrons.

"There's a very fine chef here that you could ask. Cooking doesn't care where you came from, only what you do in the kitchen. You can do more with a ladle than…this…"

The floor under their feet shivered as another loud crash rent the air. They all looked around at the destruction and mangled remains of building and humans alike. Something passed over the guard's eyes, distant and a bit wistful. He ran a gauntleted hand over his dented helmet.

"Door behind the curtain on the right. Stick to the walls and get out…" he murmured, and left to join his comrades.

The door through the curtain was unlocked and unguarded. Sanji and Nami edged through cautiously and found themselves in a low-walled area skirting the left side of the stage. The wall was just high enough that it blocked their view of the dias, but they had a clear line of sight to the seating and main foyer area.

"Zoro!"

On the main floor above the gallery and throngs of jostling people, a glimpse of green and flash of steel could be seen darting between pillars. Red lines of glowing light and explosions followed the swordsman wherever he went. Nami pointed with the nightstick at a hulking figure in marine whites and blues.

"Pacifista," Sanji breathed. He turned on his heel and tugged Nami towards a short set of stairs leading from the guard station up to the stage. "C'mon!" he said with more vigor than he felt. "He won't be able to keep it occupied for long!"

They mounted the platform. They'd barely reached the top–just one tantalizing glimpse of blue hair, white bone, and the back of a straw hat behind a mob of guards–before a hail of bullets tore into the fighting mass. Sanji and Nami threw themselves flat onto the stairs. When he peeked over the top again, Sanji saw with a pit of dread in his gut that two more of the numbered men had landed in the gallery and were striding for the stage. A deep, racking ache gripped his chest.

Sanji scrambled to his feet just as a pair of distended hands seized the closest Pacifista approaching from the far right side. The wooden planks shuddered and it suddenly flew over their heads, crashing through the back wall and showering them with debris. When Sanji lowered his arm, he saw white and blue and a smear of color that resolved itself into Shachi as the Heart Pirate was swept into the air by the giant fist of the second Pacifista. Shachi careened towards the far wall, arms up, teeth set, shades askew. His hands blurred as he flew, and a line of silver streaked back towards the numbered man. It bit hard into the joint of a shoulder. Sparks rained down upon a man with disheveled black hair who was struggling to rise. A shadow fell over the man as the giant fist came up. Someone cried out.

Time seemed to slow as Sanji's squeezing chest and choppy vision turned his limbs to lead. He dropped to one knee, eyes full of Luffy curled over the side of the stage emptying his stomach, the holes and smoking lines riddling Franky's back and face, Usopp with his mouth stretched wide as the mechanical man's fist reached its zenith, and the desperate leap of Penguin to get in front of them all. In the background he could feel Nami pulling at his shirt, hear her yelling.

The fist came down on top of the spear Penguin had managed to bring up. The ironwood bent, then shattered, and one of the Heart Pirate's arms snapped with it. He was smashed through the planks with an explosive crack, and a cloud of chips and slivers blanketed the stage. The fist raised again.

Through the dust, Sanji picked out the baleful gold eyes of the man with the disheveled black hair. It had to be Trafalgar Law, he thought, somewhere in the back of the ringing in his head. The Heart Pirate captain swayed upright as the arm lifted. Though the ominous shadow fell across the stage once again, his eyes stayed locked on the gap at his feet. His hand was white-knuckled on the nodachi as he raised the empty one, palm up. The Pacifista's hammer-like strike began to fall, and the long fingers twitched.

"ROOM!"

A deep blue field enveloped them all.

"SHAMBLES!"

The atmosphere crackled as if electrified, then there was an incongruous-sounding pop. The Pacifista's blow fell on empty space.

Through the choked air, Sanji desperately searched for his crewmates. Usopp's wide eyes met his through the haze. Then Franky's. Brook's sightless sockets stared blankly ahead. Of the Heart Pirates there was no sign.

"Shit… Shit!"

Sanji caught Luffy's eye before his vision tunneled again. His captain gave him a wan grin, and the world went gray.

...

The air shimmered and split as matter suddenly traded places. With a clatter of dishes and shattering of glassware, Law smashed into a rack of cooling buns, while Shachi popped into being inside the basin of a large sink and Penguin crashed down onto the top of a prep counter. Pie plates and cooling pans spilled across the floor. A tray's worth of butter rolls tumbled and bumped. Flour wafted down onto dozens of shoulders like winter's first snow. There was stunned silence in the kitchens.

Law lurched to his feet, eyes frantically scanning the surroundings. He found Shachi, and Shachi stared back at him, stunned, as a trickle of blood slid down from the broken shades perched on the end of his nose.

"Cap–"

Law took a shaky step forward then bent double and threw up in an empty cake tin. Shachi leapt out of the sink and got an arm around him.

"Are you all right?!"

"I'm fine…" Law scrubbed a hand across his mouth with a grimace. "It's from the seastone. I just…need a minute. Check Penguin…!"

Shachi leaned Law against the counter, then dashed over to the large prep station where the other Heart Pirate still lay unmoving.

"Pen!" Shachi gently rolled him onto his back. The squashed and broken remains of steaming ramekins dribbled off the counter and onto his boots.

Penguin's unfocused eyes blinked open and sought him out.

"...don't wanna go…in the rehab pool…" he slurred.

Shachi blew out a breath. "Sorry, man. You look like you're gonna need some work…"

Law slid in beside him. The Heart Pirate captain clicked his tongue as he cataloged the blood and bruises and more obvious broken bones. His assessing gaze stopped when it reached the metal collar around Penguin's neck and hardened. He swore under his breath.

"You're a goddamn mess." He glanced at Shachi and lifted the cap up to peer at the other man's bloody hairline. "Both of you."

"Captain, we hav–" Shachi began.

"Get Penguin out and head for the rendezvous point we had planned before. I'm going back for Bepo. We'll aim to meet in–"

Penguin's hand suddenly fisted in Law's shirt. He tried to sit up. The brown eyes squeezed shut.

"We have…to go back! We have to get the Straw Hats…!"

"What? No, we–"

"Captain," Shachi interjected. "We do. Black Leg and Roronoa saved us back at the tavern that night, and we've been working with them to get in here and get everyone out. We made an alliance."

Law chewed his lip. "My priority is my crew. He's a mess, and I need to get Bepo out."

"Bepo's…clear," Penguin said through gritted teeth. "He's with one of the Straw Hats heading for their ship…"

"You're sure?"

Penguin's eyes opened and tracked to Law's face. "Black Leg confirmed it… I believe him."

Law held his gaze for a moment, then passed an unsteady hand across his pale face. "All right. All right… Shachi, get Penguin out and start heading for the rendezvous point. I'll get the Straw Hats clear and then collect Bepo."

"Shachi's going with you," Penguin said, voice raw but firm.

"No, he's not. He's getting your broken ass out of here."

"You look…like shit. He's going with you."

Shachi–and not a few cooks–followed the back and forth between them uneasily.

"I'm your captain. It's my call."

Penguin sat up with a hiss. "And I…hand fed you soup…for a week when you were 14…because you were too stubborn…to listen to sense and went out alone anyway! You're in no shape…to Room people out and defend yourself. Shachi is going with you…!"

They glared at each other.

"Fine!" Law snarled, throwing his hands up. "If only to get you to stop moving and damaging yourself more!"

Penguin sank back down onto the counter with a groan.

Law spun on his heel and stalked away.

Shachi gave Penguin's shoulder a squeeze. "Be right back."

Once they were in a clear space between the counters, Law turned and looked meaningfully around at the many eyes staring at them. He lifted his sword.

"If any of you touch him, I'll remove every one of your limbs and feed them to a sea king."

A tall, imposing woman in an impeccable white uniform stepped forward. She crossed her arms. "Am I allowed to give him a towel?" she asked tartly. "He's bleeding all over my cobbler."

Law gave her a flat look but nodded ever so slightly. Then he raised his free hand and curled a finger.

"Room."

Blue suffused the kitchens, encompassing steam, smells, bubbling pots, and all.

"Shambles!"

The air rippled then popped. A flower pot and a single Demitasse spoon suddenly appeared where the two had been standing. One of the cooks stepped forward curiously and picked up the spoon. He turned it over with a raised eyebrow. The tall woman shrugged, and he tossed it into the sink.

...

Zoro juked left and barely ducked a powerful swipe from the Pacifista, so intent was he on the stage. The Pacifista there had paused, perhaps as disconcerted as Zoro was desperate. Their exit had disappeared along with the Heart Pirates, and he couldn't ignore the slow pull on his muscles any longer. His strength was waning, and the blaring warning in his head was growing deafening. In the shivering lengths of tempered steel and folds of silk under his fingers, he could feel the noose tightening.

The white line of Usopp's terrified grimace flickered up at him through the film of dust and debris clouding the air. Franky and Brook were still bound. Luffy was on his knees. His breath caught as thought he saw a familiar shade of copper bent over long black legs. The idiot was supposed to get out!

"Out of my way!" he roared at the mechanical man.

The Pacifista's eyes burned like coals as they followed his darting movements. Its square jaw cranked wide and the tell-tale glow began to warm from within.

"ROBIN!" Zoro bellowed.

He gathered for a jump and launched himself straight at the Pacifista without waiting for a sign from her. He flew towards the radiant maw, the swords in his hands eager and impatient. The light filled his vision, blinding him, but it didn't matter. His blades knew their business, and she would answer his call.

Arms sprouted from the Pacifista's head by the dozens and hammered down hard onto the crown just as the light began to erupt from its mouth. The great teeth clacked shut. There was a muted whump and smoke poured from the thing's nose and ears. Zoro brought down his swords, and twin lines of steel slashed through the smoldering red behind the shades, spraying sparks into the air. Zoro didn't wait to see his handiwork. The Pacifista by the stage was beginning to move again. He landed and sprinted for the gallery.

"Fire Star! Oil Star! Slime Star! Last-Star-In-My-Bag Staaaaar!"

Zoro shoved his way through the crowd, shouldering bodies aside and throwing others.

He saw more disembodied limbs pulling at the second Pacifista as it clambered onto the stage. Usopp dodged and Franky rolled out of the way of the grasping hands. Nami suddenly appeared in his line of vision, darting through the stunned guards still picking themselves up. She tackled Luffy to the ground as an energy beam cut across the space where his head had been. Zoro skidded to a stop and swept his swords back. His vision began to melt into black and gray static, but he had to slow the thing down. Stall it. Anything!

"108 POU–"

"Writhe."

Liquid fire raked his side. He jerked away, but numbness began to spread where the fingertips of the hunter had brushed him. Chasseur blurred and leapt back as Zoro brought his blades around. The hunter grinned, and the long gash on his face wept fresh blood into the collar of his red coat.

"Just one of you now."

Zoro chewed the inside of his cheek until the taste of iron washed away the dead feeling along his ribs. He flowed into motion, swords flashing through the blur of color as he danced in and out of reach. They circled each other.

Chasseur smirked. "You're slower."

Zoro leaned in, swords at full extension, and whipped around and then up. A whirlwind of air forced the hunter back. He spun again and again, bringing them closer and closer within range of the Pacifista. Chasseur tried to phase through the miniature tornado, but the piece of him that anchored the whole couldn't withstand the force. He edged around until Zoro was between him and the stage.

Zoro chanced a look over his shoulder. He blinked rapidly, unsure of what he was seeing. Chasseur seemed taken aback as well. A dangling, flailing ball of white was floating over the stage. The ball was also screaming.

"Unhand meeeee! You cannot do this! I am Saint Varzos, do you hear me?!"

A rope of arms extending down from the ceiling gripped the dumpling-like Celestial in a web of fingers. They swung the wailing man back and forth in front of the Pacifista like a cat's toy. The mechanical man's dead gaze followed the pendulum arc as it processed its orders. Zoro wanted to cheer with relief when it turned away from the stage and began to follow the Celestial as Robin passed him down the ceiling towards the front exit.

"You damned pirates…" Chasseur growled.

The hunter tried to surge past him, but Zoro was already moving. He rotated fast and sent another cyclone of air to cut him off, then pressed in, swords drawing criss-crossing lines through the shifting flesh as fast as he could swing. Chasseur's face was a mask of furious vexation as he tried again and again to get by Zoro to the stage. One of the vibrating hands just missed his eyes, fingertips passing through the bridge of his nose. Zoro blinked back the acid-like sensation and felt warmth pouring down his face. Chasseur's grin was short-lived, though, as Kitetsu's cursed energy made him pay for getting so close. The sword twisted in the shifting guts, and Chasseur's face twisted with it. He jerked back. They both stood there, panting and bloodied. Zoro gave himself three more minutes.

Chasseur looked around, gloved hands flexing as he sought out support in the remaining security forces. The first Pacifista that Zoro had blinded was attacking a staircase with mindless determination. Its beams cut swathes through the polished cedar framework and made cinders of the artwork adorning the walls. The second Pacifista was almost to the foyer. Robin's distraction had multiplied, and she had three Celestials swinging from various positions along the ceiling now. The trio of white-suited nobles were all screaming at the Pacifista and issuing it conflicting orders to save them. It twitched and stuttered in operational indecision. Disorganized groups of guards ran around, their shouts almost completely overwhelmed by the commotion of the crowd trapped between the gallery and rampaging Pacifista. A man in purple shades appeared on the walkway of the second level offices. He began screaming louder than them all.

"The stage! To the stage!"

Chasseur returned his attention to Zoro and spread his hands. "You're just delaying the inevitable. We have the numbers and the marines are already on their way. You can struggle and try to keep me from my prizes, but in the end you are nothing against the order of things, nothing to me."

Zoro cracked his neck as he met the hunter's calculating gaze. He knew he was being stalled, but every moment brought fresh oxygen to his lungs, precious seconds of rest to pull just a little more out. And he could play that game too. He had other reasons to hold Chasseur's attention. He swept Kitetsu around to encompass the destruction.

"You've got that backwards. You're the ones who'll regret messing with us."

Chasseur's shoulders began to shake with amusement. "Your crew is nothing but meat for the market and so are you."

The hunter's mouth opened wide in a laugh. Zoro could see the very backs of his square, blunt teeth as something small and fast shot through the opening. Chasseur choked and made a sharp, high-pitched bark. He raised a hand to his throat and coughed with spasming gags. His lips grew wet with red spittle.

Zoro stepped forward and seized him by the collar. The hunter's dark eyes widened.

Over Zoro's shoulder on the stage, Usopp was half-sitting with his slingshot out. His empty ammunition bag lay discarded beside him, and his fingers trembled as he lowered his hand. "Seastone Star," the sniper whispered, grin wild.

Zoro brought Chasseur in close. "My crew is everything."

As he slid his sword between the hunter's ribs, a blue dome covered the stage. Zoro's smile widened. He gave the blade a little twist.

...

To Be Continued