Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Neither Fate/Zero, Nor OP, nor the verses from any sea-shanties used. They belong to their respective creators. UltraBalls sold at PokeMarts are cheap mass-made knock-offs. Buy Johto-made Acorn Balls. Make Johto great again. Also, Magikarp Stews are tasty. Just Saying.

A/N at the end. Gives the background on some stuff, so read it.

'that's Akainu, that bastard' : mental thought

"That's the Bastard, Akainu! ": spoken words

'I dreamed a dream, the other night, Lowlands! Lowlands Away, me John" : Sea shanty or an invocation, chapter quote, footnote

-=Folio Zeta ζ : The Typhon Wakes=-

"Tis' a merry life, and a short one.
Had you fought like a man, you wouldn't be hanged now like a dog. "

~oO Invictus Oo~

"Enough talking!" The young man with the fierce eyes of a hawk declared, "My name is Dracule Mihawk, son of Calugarule Mihawk. Prepare to Die."

Iskandar couldn't help but slam his hand to his head in exasperation, "Is this kid for real? Is this what passes for a bounty hunter nowadays?" he asked, groaning.

"Trust me, I'm as bemused as you are," Silvers reassured, "Though Calugarule...that name sounds familiar."

"Anyone important?"

"No, not terribly so. He used to be a famous swordsman from Walha Island, in South Blue. Heard that he died a decade ago though, killed in a duel."

"Ah. Any good?"

"Who? Calugarule or the guy who killed him?"

"The guy who killed him obviously. Calugarule is dead, isn't he?"

"Fair point. And no, just lucky. He had a sword, Calugarule just forgot to carry his."

"Oh. Drunk?"

"Drunk."

As Iskandar and Silvers continued their very fascinating discussion, Shanks and Mihawk stared each other down. Mihawk lazily twirled his katana in loose circles, in a bid to unnerve Shanks, who had a hand grasping the hilt of his own weapon, a boarding sabre. The two boys circled each other slowly, gauging each other's strength and trying to spot mistakes or openings to exploit.

They were both too canny a swordsman to leave any though. As if on an unspoken cue, the two readied their fighting stances. Shanks drew his blade and brought it to bear level with his head, holding it backhand with his other arm acting as the balance while his body leaned forward, knees slightly apart and bent. Mihawk on the other hand seemed to favor dueling with both hands, his hands holding his katana aloft, his stance straight-backed and proud. With nary a warning the two rushed forward and began their clash.

With impressive arm strength, Mihawk brought down his blade in a crushing, overhead swing, only to be deflected by Shanks' scabbard, who then tried to stab forwards , only for Mihawk to jump back and avoid the blow. Pressing his slight advantage, Shanks unleashed a flurry of quick slashes, aiming to disorient his adversary with the gleam of the sword. Unfortunately for him, Mihawk wasn't one to be distracted by such petty tricks and broke Shanks' guard by blocking the blade with his own and landing a shoulder strike upon him. Shanks feinted a slash and when Mihawk was within range, tried to break his nose with a pommel strike. Mihawk had to disengage his own assault to avoid the blow and retreated backwards. The two grinned up at each other, breathing heavily and then decided to kick things up a notch.

Shanks was the one to deliver the first blow this time, cutting his sword through the air, unleashing a powerful vacuum blade he called Sakegari, which was narrowly avoided by Mihawk , who responded with his own. Mihawk's retaliatory slice, which put out a torrent of compressed air blades, a move that he called Voyvoda Saldırı. Their attacks became fiercer and fiercer, each strike of their swords against the others' a resounding gong that rang true upon the endless ocean. Around the two swordsmen, the skies seemed to darken, though it mostly was the result of Armament Haki, that the two were unconsciously leaking. It was an elegant dance between warriors, no wasted speech, no frivolous flourishes or movements, just brutal , relentless onslaught. A clash of wills, where both tried to overpower the other. And this is where they stumbled, for neither had conviction behind their blades, neither had discovered the dream that would drive them through their darkest hours.

Which was why Silvers, who had had enough of this tomfoolery, waded in between their duel, grabbed their heads and knocked them together. Hard.

Mihawk reeled back from the sudden, unexpected blow while his opponent, who had been at the receiving end of these before, crumpled upon himself, hoping to avoid further punishment.

All to naught.

Silvers once again bashed the heads of the two miscreants together.

This time, they fell to the decks, lost in blissful unconsciousness.

Iskandar stared blankly at Silvers, fixing him with a questioning stare, "Was that really necessary Silvers? The two were just having a spot of fun."

"Yes. I am getting increasingly familiar with your idea of fun. However, these two rosewater sailors would have caused irreparable harm to the ship had they continued. We need this ship, Iskandar. You know we do. Besides, this ship isn't made from the wood of Adam Tree. It isn't invincible to harm. Shanks is spoiled by sailing on an Adam Wood ship. It is high time he learnt better."

"You know best Silvers. That is why you are my First Mate." Iskandar placated the annoyed man, "What do you propose we do to these two?"

Silvers grinned darkly, his eyeglasses gleaming as they caught the sun.

When Mihawk came to, he felt very very disoriented. His brain felt leaden and he found himself unable to think straight. Forcing himself to remain calm, he tried to regain some semblance of clear thought before finding a way out of whatever predicament he found himself in.

Soon, he discovered that he was unable to move. He didn't feel any sharp or jarring pains in any of his extremities, so this wasn't the result of a crippling injury. Which meant that he was tied up. Slowly, the memories of his short but intense battle with the red-haired boy came back to him. He didn't remember losing, nor did he remember winning. So sighing quietly to himself, he opened his eyes to have a better look at the situation. What he saw made his unnaturally sharp eyes widen to comical proportions.

He was tied up to the mast upon the ship! And to make matters worse, he was tied face-first into it, his arms encircling the wooden pole and tied at the wrists. The situation seemed worse the more he looked at it. From the wobbling of his feet, Mihawk knew that the ship was already out at sea. There was also the question of the hands digging uncomfortable close to his waist. Creaking his neck and wincing at the resulting cracks of stiffened muscles, Mihawk noted with idle horror that yes, there were two pairs of hands, tied up similarly to him, digging into his waist.

Indignantly, he cried out in righteous fury, "What is the meaning of this ? Answer me!"

For a moment there was utter silence on the deck, before a few sailors burst into fitful sniggers. A brave one stifled his own chuckles and answered the aristocratic swordsman, "Boss Rayleigh decided you two were getting too uppity for your britches. Thought you were a man, so you might as well kiss the wooden lady."

"This is preposterous! I am not part of your crew! I am not subject to this humiliation!"

The sailor who had answered him before shrugged, "Then take it up with the Boss. He and the Captain will be out shortly. They are plotting a course up in the Big Cabin."

Mihawk fumed but let it go, it was beneath him to vent his anger at the common rabble. Now that he understood his situation better, he devoted his energies to trying to escape it. He struggled with the knots, trying for what seemed like hours in vain to loosen them up. Gritting his teeth, he pulled at them, even when the silk ropes began to dig into his wrists.

Mihawk's self-inflicted bloodfest would have gone unabated had it not been for the heavy footfalls of armored boots stomping over the wooden deck. The rough rumbling baritone of Iskandar increased in volume as he drew nearer, distracting Mihawk as he strained to listen.

"...I keep telling you Silvers, Scorched Earth is the best way to deal with these Marines. Send them a message strong enough and they will learn not to insult me anymore."

"It really doesn't work that way Captain. I know your strength, so does your crew but the World Government doesn't, and a blatant show of force this early will only incite them to take you down, fast and hard."

"So you say. I have dealt with stubborn governments like this in the past, a few devastating losses and they will be running for the treaty meetings fast enough."

"Agreed, but you are no longer a King. You cannot force the government to take you as anything more than a pirate till you make a bigger name for yourself."

"We will have to do something about that soon too. That little hamlet on Cactus Island was a start, even though it was smaller than Delphi, but it's really not impressive enough."

Silvers voice held a touch of amusement, "I'll write it up in the To-Do list, to be sure. Ah, and it seems one of our youthful delinquents is awake. Let's deal with them now, shall we?"

Mihawk decided that this moment was as good as any to speak up, "I must protest against this outrage! You have no right to humiliate me thus!"

Iskandar glowered darkly for a moment, before speaking up in a voice as empty and dry as the deserts that were in his soul, "No right? No Right? And who gave you the right to infringe upon my ship, to challenge my Quartermaster's Apprentice? Not only that, but you made MY SHIP as your battleground! This ship is my domain, young warrior, and this gives me the right to pass judgement."

"I still say Captain, keelhaul this poor bugger-" Mihawk's eyes widened in alarm at that declaration "-it's not like he is of any use besides swinging a sword."

Mihawk latched onto this with all the hope of a drowning man, "I am much more than just a mere swordsman, do not judge me so easily."

Silvers sighed and looked to his captain, who merely shrugged, but the Dark King could see a glimmer of amusement in the man's enigmatic eyes.

"Fine! Do as you wish!" Silvers said, throwing his hands up in exasperation, "I still say that we should simply keelhaul this one and make Shanks kiss the gunner's daughter."

"He's lucky that I have a soft spot for young warriors. Now tell me, young Mihawk, can you do anything besides hacking away at people with a sharpened metal slab?"

Mihawk bristled at the disrespectful way by which Iskandar referred to swords, but let the comment pass for now, "I am an able navigator and a shipwright. My boat can attest to my skills in sailing these waters."

Silvers grumbled halfheartedly, "I suppose that is true. I had a look-see at your little boat earlier. It's a small miracle that it survived the entrance to Grand Line, let alone following us this far."

Emboldened by the backhanded compliment, Mihawk hedged his bets and spoke up, "I can consent to working under you, but not lower than Second Officer, that is as low as I am willing to work."

Iskandar chuckled at this little bout of defiance, "Seems we have a feisty one here. Fine, since you seem capable enough, I will make you my boatswain. You will have the duties of keeping this ship running, keeping the sails a-flutter and the riggings in perfect shape. You will report to me alone and you will receive one and a quarter share of any and every treasure or loot that we may acquire. Do you agree to those terms?"

The aristocratic swordsman considered the offer for a moment. He was under no illusions that he had an escape from the situation, nor could he deny the potential he could see within the red-haired brat. There was also the inherent danger in even presuming to defy the legendary Dark King, not to mention the Captain himself. Iskandar exuded an aura that made one want to obey him, to follow him into adventures untold and to give him complete loyalty and obedience. And on these seas, such an ability was dangerous.

Mihawk could just tell that if he cast his lot with this man, he would either reach dizzying heights of glory or an early grave. And have a bit too much fun pursuing either path to care.

In the end, there was only one thing that Mihawk could say.

"I agree."

"Good! I'll leave it to the rest of the crew to explain the ins and outs of the ship to you." Iskandar remarked off-handedly as he walked away, Silvers in tow.

"Wait! WAIT!" Mihawk cried out in consternation, "aren't you going to untie me?"

One could almost hear the glee in Iskandar's voice, "Ah, that. Well, you and sleeping beauty still have to serve your just dues. You will be left till sundown. When the evening shift changes, Master Gunner Buggy will relieve you two. Till then. well, stay put."

Gritting his teeth in frustration, Mihawk took his words back. This was not going to be a good idea. The early grave seemed ever-so-comforting in comparison.

Fukou Island

Fukou Island, fondly called by a less amusing, but equally true epithet : FuckYou Island, was one of the dullest locations a marine could have the misfortune of being posted at. Even the civilians agreed, living in Fukou island was more out of necessity than choice.

It wasn't that the island was inhospitable or inhabitable, on the contrary, it had a rather mild weather for a Grand Line island, and stable weather patterns. Marine ships maintained a steady quarterly supply-chain, but little anyone else bothered to stop by. Not even Buccaneers, Cutthroats and Criminals.

It wasn't always so, in fact, the World Government had attempted several times to revive the flagging economy of the unfortunate settlement, the latest attempt being a decade ago. Those plans had been put to rest by the inexplicably corrupt governor that got himself appointed and proceeded to set up such an intricate system of bureaucracy that Vice Admiral Tsuru had to come down herself from Marineford and physically oust him out.

Since that unfortunate incident, the island had been given up on as a bad job and was inhabited by sleepy-eyed marines and disgruntled civilians.

Which mainly explained the lack of alarm even as the Invictus bore down upon the Fort.

Iskandar had spent the days leading up to their arrival upon the ill-fated island plotting out as many probable positions for the marine artillery and the barracks from the maps that Silvers possessed. The rest of the time was brain-storming strategies with his three officers and overseeing regular practices and drills to get his crew into fighting ship. His long years leading his men on the uncharted territories of Persia and Asia allowing him to slip easily into this role.

Every day, at the crack of dawn, Iskandar would rouse his men and would proceed to start their training for the day. Sword drills, spear drills, shooting exercises and general stamina building were all focused upon and heavily pounded into the men's heads. And as one who believed in leading from the front, Iskandar was always there, undergoing the same exercises as his men, after which he would get together with the officers and spar with them. Sometimes one on one, but mostly a brutal , free-for-all melee.

And it showed. Iskandar was getting increasingly familiar with the elite warfare of the new world, Silvers was getting back into his top strength after nearly a year of drinking himself into a stupor. Shanks was already competent and in his prime, and with his regular spars with the equally-talented Mihawk, he was discovering new avenues to better himself. Mihawk remained reserved and laconic in bearing, but he too was learning how to pit himself against a highly skilled non-swordsman. The biggest surprise of the lot was Buggy. While the flashy boy would never be a sheer power-house, but he found himself at home while using hit and run tactics. His devil fruit was versatile and combined with the high-explosives that the boy had an affinity for, he could easily ruin any powerhouse's day.

They hadn't trained enough though. A week's training was nothing when compared to the rigors that Iskandar and his soldiers went through to become the ultimate fighting force of their times. Knowing that, Iskandar had kept his plan simple. The Conqueror knew that he was being underestimated by the Marines, and that he was still but a speck in their radar, having no established credentials. So Iskandar had decided to make use of his relative anonymity in this new world and twist it for his own purposes.

Using the assets under his control, Iskandar had decided to approach the Island from a little-known route, using Silvers' extensive knowledge of the seas. After that, Mihawk would take over as the navigator and guide the Invictus through a narrow inland river which would allow them to ambush the Marine Fort and take them completely by surprise. Combined with the massive firepower that the Invictus carried and the fighting abilities of the crew, Iskandar was confident that they would take the fort by surprise and raze it to the ground before anyone would be the wiser.

Iskandar grinned fiercely, baring his teeth in anticipation as the massive warship made it's silent way through the river. The fort loomed ahead, dark and imposing in the dark night. There was no moon in the sky, plunging the seas into darkness. Iskandar had ordered all the lights to be dimmed allowing for just enough to navigate, Mihawk had gone a step ahead and ordered them all to be put out, relying entirely on his preternatural vision.

Like a sleek beast, Invictus slithered into the natural cove, hauling down her anchors to train her entire broadside towards the marine fort. Buggy was at he front, manning the gigantic tri-cannons. Shanks and Mihawk had dressed themselves in dark cloaks and wraps, blending in the night. Only their swords gleamed thirstily, as if preparing for the coming slaughter. Silvers stood beside Iskandar, leaning lazily on the ship, his hands clasped behind his back as he calmly gazed upon the horizon. The rest of the crew readied their weapons, fiddling with their pistols, checking their shots and doing a last minute check on the ironsights and the powder stock that they carried. Everyone seemed nervous and eager for the action to begin. Below decks, there was a flurry of activity as the cannoneers bustled about, preparing for the continuous volleys they were about to unleash, while the civilian populace of the crew either hunkered down in their beds or made themselves useful, doing minor chores for the crew.

Iskandar impatiently gestured two of his crew to bring out the gangplank posthaste. As they scurried about to fulfill his order, Iskandar closed his eyes, concentrating upon his reality marble. To his consternation, calling upon it was not as easy as it had always been. Calming his mind, he remembered the vague instructions he had from mages, the mumbo jumbo about self-delusions, hypnosis or whatever it was. Iskandar only understood the barest gist of it.

Sighing, he summoned his two swords, their familiar weight in his hands calming his mind somewhat. Once again concentrating his thoughts upon his army, he began his heart's wish, his plea to his departed friends. In his mind, he begged their return even as his crew stood watching with bated breath.

He cast his mind on the magnificence of his army. Of the richly gleaming chainmail of the persian soldiers, and of the greek bronze cuirasses glinting in the bright desert sun. He felt himself think of his mighty companions, Hephaestus, Ptolemy and so many others, storied names in their own right, united under his banner just to make his dreams come true. Iskandar remembered the campfires at night, the joviality, the merry-making, the festive celebrations in honor of the gods, of bawdy Dionysias and spectacular fetes of Panathenaea. He remembered the taste of blood upon his lips and the taste of rich egyptian wine, made with the finest of produce from the Nile, brought in amphoras from distant cities. With a pang, he thought back of Pramnian wines, and those brought in from Khios...diluted with snow and drunk with fine company. He yearned for them with an ache that surprised even him. He urged his heart where they still dwelt, to rewrite the very world where they didn't exist.

But try as he might, he couldn't force them to manifest. They seemed to ask him , 'tell us, O Great King. Tell us what drives you here? We chased Oceanus for a decade and a half, what need have you of us here? Tell us, O King, why do you chase these foolish dreams?'

Iskandar then knew what he needed to say.

"Forever I have roamed with a hungry heart, " Iskandar spoke aloud, the unearthly inflection in his timbre sending a chill down everyone's spine. "And I have become a name."

Reality bent and strained under the weight of these words. Iskandar's legend, so strong and indelible in the world of his birth, was nothing in this new world...but the raw willpower that once forced the world to dance to his whims and made the gods tremble, ached to overcome that limitation. Each syllable uttered, replete with the pain of separation. Of kept promises and shared sorrows. Each word doing it's best to shatter reality and bring forth Iskandar's vision upon this new world.

"I AM A DREAMER! AND A KING!" Iskandar declared proudly, his very being echoing the sentiment, and the very world bowed to the wishes of the Conqueror.

The quiet of the night was shattered with the whinnying of horses.

Author's Corner:

And that's a wrap. A slightly shorter chapter than normal, but I wanted to keep the raid of Fukou island in a single chapter and needed a transition between the two. I have already written out the raid and I am currently writing out the aftermath.

Next update will be on 15th April.

Also, heartfelt gratitude from me to all you readers. So many reviews, favorites and follows even after a year-long hiatus. I will do my best to keep my end and keep writing the story the best way I can.

Also, thank you for all the PMs inquiring after my health. I am doing good now, studying in grad school and even started light exercise in the gym over the Spring Break. Limping is noticeable, sadly, but I am confident that it will pass as time goes by.

That brings me to another point. Several of you suggested that I open a account to help out with the med bills. From what I have heard, it's something like crowdsourcing or something? I confess to having no clue about it. If anyone would be kind enough to let me know some details, and your opinion whether it's a good idea or not, it will be greatly appreciated. Feel Free to PM.

A/N : I have more or less decided upon Iskandar's bounty. Now before bounties become part of the story in the chapter after the next, you are all invited to weigh in on bounties for :

1. Silvers. 2. Buggy 3. Shanks.

Like before, you have the time till next chapter to let me know what you would prefer.

Glossary of Terms:

1. Typhon : was the most fearsome greek monster. A massive creature, he was the last child of Gaia and Tartarus and the mate of Echidna. He fathered many monsters. Olympians trembled when Typhon raged. The symbol of the constellation Pisces originates with a story where Aphrodite ran with her child and hid as fishes to escape the Typhon's fury.

2. Merry Life and Short one: was the motto of Pirate Extraordinaire :- 'Black Bart' Bartholomeo Roberts, on whom Gol D Roger is partly based on. The second part of chapter quote was spoken by Anne Bonny for Jack Rackham aka Calico Jack.

3. Walha: was the old name for Wallachia, where the real Vlad Dracul ruled.

4. Boarding Sabre: were the most common swords used by pirates. They had good stabbing power, easy to use, easy to block and defend with and were carried with ease. They were basically the Kalashnikovs of their age.

5. Sakegari : Literally Sake Cutter. Felt it fitting enough an attack name for Shanks.

6. Voyvoda Saldiri: literally The Lord's Onslaught. Voivodes was the title given to Wallachian/Transylvanian rulers. Kept the turkish translation of the phrase because of Vlad III Dracul's long association with the Ottomans.

7. Kiss the wooden lady : was an old corporal punishment in ships. Poor sods were tied to a mast and whipped with the Cat O nine tails by the quartermaster

8. Delphi: A small place famous for the Oracle of Apollo. while small, the temple was filled to the brim with gold and riches.

9. Keelhaul : Toss a poor sod out the ship while tying him to a keel . It was usually fatal. If the victim wasn't killed outright by hitting the prow, dehydration usually did the victim in.

10. Boatswain: was an officer level position in the ship. If anyone is interested, I can write down the hierarchy of marine and pirate ships in the real world in the next glossary.

11. Kiss the gunner's daughter: Corporal punishment. Victim was tied to the cannon, he was stripped of his britches and whipped/kicked/spanked. Yeah, discipline was rough back then.

12. The raid itself is slightly based on the sack of Portobello by Captain Morgan. The pirate, not the alcohol.

13. Dionysias: Festivals dedicated to Dionysus. Alexander was a big fan.

14. Panathenaea: Grand festivals dedicated to Athena. It was of course the biggest festival in Athens. They had a big solemn procession to the Parthenon, where the statue of Athena was dressed in robes woven by the womenfolk of Athens. Then they held games, which were a big deal, though not as big as Olympic games. Some of the games were reserved exclusively for the men of Athens. So the next time you complain about Xbox-Exclusive titles, remember that the Greeks did it first.

15. Pramnian and Khios Wines : They were the premier wines of the ancient days. There are many glowing reviews of it written, left by aficionados for posterity. Fun fact, an ideal wine in those days should have a bouquet of Thyme, Jasmine, and Hyacinths. Wines in Ancient Greece were mostly sweet, though some dry wines were also produced. Wines were always, always diluted before drinking. Chilled wines were diluted with snow to keep the coolness. Yes, Ancient Greeks loved their tipple.

Cheers. Read and Review.