(dodges a pitchfork) Okay, okay, I get I'm late again. But I have a good reason, really! It was a hellish week at work and I caught the flu so I was really not feeling it. But the good news is I really applied myself this weekend so the chapter is finally ready!

Once again, I'd like to thank all the people reading, following and reviewing this fic. I never dreamed that this thing would capture so many people. Also, I was a bit surprised to find out some of you actually came to like the villain. I kinda tried to make him more of a looming threat and not really anyone relatable. :) Ah, how strange can fandom get...

Now grab your popcorn and enjoy the story.

If there was indeed a God, Sanji thought, he was probably laughing at him right now.

He had never been a very spiritual person, to say the least. Back at the Baratie, he had seen the staff pray, or actually, curse at a thousand different deities, some of them with very colorful names and backstories. Among the Straw Hats, nobody even mentioned the topic aloud except when they had landed on Skypea and Nami had been horrified at Zoro's lack of belief in anything but himself. Even though he suspected that the navigator's display of fervent devotion was more of a cautionary measure than anything else, it got him thinking about his own beliefs for a while before all hell broke loose and his spiritual quest faded into the background. After the whole ordeal with Enel was over, he still wasn't sure where he stood or even if it mattered at all. He was way too used to dealing with what was in front of him and leaving less practical stuff for later consideration anyway. He didn't have to take a stand if he didn't wish to. After all, what was the chance of anything important ever depending on such an insignificant detail?

Right now, he was willing to offer his soul to the Devil himself as his exhausted mind browsed through passages of half-remembered scripture scattered all over his memory. Maybe somewhere, he would stumble over a ready-made answer for what the hell he was supposed to do.

The warped, otherworldly space seemed to hold its breath in anticipation, waiting for a reply he could not give. The spirit's eyes were still fixed upon him and even the whispers floating in the air had stopped. He felt the cold fingers beginning to wrap around his wrist again when he instinctively flinched and pulled his arm away.

Aron Fellman's face contorted in a silent scream. Sanji had a few seconds to regret the involuntary gesture before the darkness surrounding him was obliterated by light and scorching heat.

A man, no, a mere skeleton covered with skin lay on a bare grey rock face down. He was covered in sores and burns from the sun and a myriad of insects and small birds feasted on the caked blood on his back. Each jab at the exposed skin drew a short gasp out of the prone form. A small lump of moss, on which teeth marks were clearly visible was tightly clutched in his fist. As the man slowly dragged his bleeding arm along the rocks to take another bite out of it, he let out a long, hollow moan.

A shudder travelled along Sanji's spine as he struggled to close his eyes in a desperate attempt to block out the vision. However, the darkness behind his eyelids did not spare him from the horrible sound flowing out of the dying man or the agonizing pangs knotting his suddenly empty stomach. He felt moist, sandy earth coating his mouth and tongue and fought the intense desire to spit out what he knew could not be there. A high pitched wheeze caught his attention followed by a gagging sound and the weak thrashing of a body on the grey rocks.

Aron Fellman was choking to death.

A force, stronger than anything he could fight against, compelled him to open his eyes again. The birds, scared by the condemned man's sudden movement, flew away to rest on the nearby bush as if they were used to the situation and were merely waiting for their prey to stop struggling. The man's dull eyes, now yellow and bloodshot were wide open and reflected nothing but pure, mad terror. A gnawed, grey tongue rolled out of his mouth as long, claw-like fingers scratched the rocks around his body while still clutching the small lump of moss as if it was the only thing keeping him alive. Somewhere at the back of his throat began a long, uninterrupted croak.

If the spirit had released him at that moment he wouldn't have been able to move or even look away. His whole body felt like it was already encased in marble like the rest of his crew. He found himself helplessly staring as the man's terrified expression became a frozen rictus and the death rattle slowly ceased. The crushed clump of moss oozed out of the limp fist. The birds, that remained perched on the thin branches of the bush, watching the scene with bored indifference took flight one by one and reclaimed their positions around the body becoming particularly interested in the eyes and the lumpy, exposed tongue.

"Enough…"

The words burned like fire in his mind but he could only muster a hoarse whisper. A treacherous little voice reminded him that he had almost ended up like this as well. A fleeting vision of his own dead face made his blood run cold before pure, unabashed anger took over.

"Goddamnit, I said that's enough!" He took a step backwards as he closed his eyes trying to shake off the spirit's illusion. "I know you suffered! I know you died in terrible pain! That is NOT a fucking ticket to redemption!"

The islet faded away to be replaced by pitch blackness. For a moment Sanji remained motionless, horrified by the words that had just come out of his mouth. He might have just signed Zoro's death warrant, not to mention destroyed any chance of ever seeing his friends again. The last thing he wanted was to anger the spirit even further now that he had sort of managed to get him on his side.

His rational part admonished him for hesitating. For the last forty-eight hours, he had wanted nothing more than to find a way to stop it all and now that it was finally laid before him, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Whether he believed in divine punishment or not, the broken man before him was still a criminal and his deeds still made Sanji sick when he thought about them. He didn't deserve the horrible death he had just witnessed but mercy, not to mention forgiveness, was a different deal altogether.

He looked into the spirit's eyes, silently praying that he couldn't read his mind. He had to be rational about this. He had to find some way to talk him into letting him go and release the crew from their curse. Maybe, if he played his cards right, he could even convince him to leave the island of Stillwater alone.

He was still figuring out his strategy when another vision ripped the darkness apart and sent him careening into a world of screams and fire.

A crowd of islanders had gathered in front of a house engulfed in flames. Some of them were carrying torches; some of them just held large bottles plugged up with strands of cloth. They stood there with a strange impassivity on their stony faces watching the shadows inside the house run around frantically looking for an exit. As a female voice desperately pleaded for help from one of the upper windows, a figure in the crowd calmly brought a flame to the cloth peeking out of the neck of his bottle and threw it in her direction. It collided against the wall, not three centimeters away from her face in a ball of bright orange fire. With a terrified scream, the woman darted back into the blazing inferno.

Somebody finally managed to make their way out of the front door coughing and patting at their clothes. An elderly man and woman stumbled down the steps. Two young men half dragged, half carried a wispy blond woman in a servant outfit out of the house as she wailed in agony, screaming a name that got lost in the roaring of the fire. The crowd hurled insults their way but did not prevent them from leaving and getting lost in the night as the house creaked and collapsed behind them.

A stream of disconnected words flowed through Sanji's stunned mind.

….mother… father… family home… even the servants…

The spirit whispered something else but the rest of his mutterings dissolved in the crackling flames. Understanding dawned on Sanji at the same time as the voices of the crowd finally became clear in his ears.

"Liars!"

"You knew! You had to know!"

"You were all in this together!"

"Burn in Hell, all of you!"

The vision of the burning house melted away gradually as disconnected scenes flashed before him. He found himself looking at a group of people gathered in a temple, not daring to look anybody in the eye. He saw empty streets on a market day, saw people spying on one another from behind closed curtains and peepholes. A lonely figure walked along the beach, eyes fixed on a tiny speck of land on the horizon. After a while, it hung its head in shame and walked away.

Sanji plunged into darkness again, dazed and numb from the revelation. He had never given much thought to what had happened on the island after Aron Fellman's trial, he had been way too busy trying to figure out how to beat him. Now, the picture that unfurled in his mind presented a much more unpleasant landscape. The man had not just committed a horrible crime; he had poisoned the minds of the entire island. There wasn't a heart that did not grow a little darker after what had happened thirty years ago. He had brought out the worst in every person living there and when it culminated in him being marooned on that nameless islet, the sheer horror of what they had done had driven the islanders mad and paranoid of one another. Who knew how long it would take them to get back to normal? Especially when a reminder of their past sins came back to haunt them every year.

Sanji raised his head to find the spirit still floating before him, milky blue eyes staring into his very soul. The idea of one man doing this much harm to an entire island, not to mention his friends made white hot rage coarse through his veins. The idea of having to negotiate with him for their lives burned him even more until one single thought arose in his mind bringing all of his deliberations to a screeching halt.

None of this mattered anymore. Whatever eternal damnation he was hoping was in store for the man in the afterlife, the aftermath of his execution in the world of the living had already been much, much worse.

He knew what he had to do.

The realization came like a punch in the gut as he felt his stomach twist and his palms erupt in cold sweat. He couldn't do this; he couldn't make this choice for an entire island. It was not his place, it didn't feel right. Even if the inhabitants of Stillwater ever found it in their hearts to forgive Fellman, they definitely would not have sent some random pirate cook they had met less than a week ago to carry out their will. He was simply not the right person.

Usopp's boastful remark from two days ago rang in his head.

Not the right person… but the right words…

Sanji felt his lips split into a bitter smile at the memory of the marksman's smug face. If his friend had been right about that, he would undoubtedly do a much better job than Sanji could even hope to. He could not be more out of his element. He lacked Robin's knowledge of the human nature or Usopp's imagination. He was good at two things, kicking stuff and cooking it later and neither was an option right now. His mind flailed helplessly as he grasped at the remnants of every epic tale he had ever heard the marksman spin. In the long, crushing silence, he remembered the only thing Zeff had ever praised him for.

He was apparently really good at improvising.

"Hear my words, pitiful shadow!" He made a tentative pause to look at the spirit that remained perfectly still, his bony fingers reaching towards him, frozen in midair. "I, Blackleg Sanji have born witness to your pain and suffering. By the power invested in me by the holy men of Stillwater, I hereby declare your sins against them forgiven. Go now, and trouble these people no more."

His voice echoed in the endless void. Sanji discreetly crossed his fingers behind his back cursing himself for how corny his speech had sounded. There was no way that was going to work; his plan had more holes in it than a sieve. Nobody had invested him with anything to begin with. The spirit was bound to sense that he was lying. He should have made it sound more convincing, he should have at least used the man's name. Out of all the desperate moves he had ever pulled, this had to be the stupidest of them all.

The spirit gave out a long soft sigh.

The withered lips parted in a genuinely happy smile that looked almost unnatural on the ghastly visage. Sanji held his breath as he saw flesh flow back into his gaunt face and his eyes lose the dull ghostly sheen to become bright blue again. The crooked silhouette slowly straightened up and walked closer to reveal no longer a walking corpse but the scarred man he had seen disembark on Stillwater in one of his visions. Warm fingers wrapped around his wrist as Aron Fellman opened his mouth to utter two single words.

Thank… you…

The darkness around him seemed to acquire a life of its own as it rushed towards him like a thick black ocean and swallowed him whole. At the corner of his eye, Sanji saw the spirit close his eyes, take a step back and dissolve in a grey mist before his head exploded in pain again and a thousand images and sensations flashed through his mind in a frenzied kaleidoscope. The children playing tag on a sandy road waved at him and beckoned him closer. A tall young girl with brown eyes and flowers in her hair gave him a bashful look. The marine ship rocking on the waves etched itself against the blue horizon and for a second its figurehead morphed into the Going Merry's. Panic gripped Sanji as he realized that he could no longer tell which memories where his and which belonged to the spirit.

Somewhere at the back of his mind, he heard his own voice humming Zeff's short verse.

Hush now my dear and close your eyes…darkness will end and the sun will rise…

Memories of the Baratie flooded his mind as he grabbed them like a lifeline in a weak attempt to hold on to his identity. The faces of Zeff, Patty and Carne reeled in his head before they got replaced by one familiar grinning mug hanging upside down in front of him partially obscured by a large straw hat. He heard Usopp's laughter and Nami's annoyed grunt as she smacked him upside the head. Robin's dark eyes regarded him with a warm look while her hands absentmindedly petted Chopper's fur. He smiled back at the fleeting vision wishing he could still see them again.

God, he was so tired.

…drift off to dreamland and have no fear…

A flash of green hair swam in front of him and the unmistakable smell of sake and weapon oil filled his nostrils. Zoro's annoyed expression was the last coherent memory that crossed his mind before darkness engulfed it all.

…no one will harm you while I am here…

Zoro was getting tired of waiting.

The dark mist hanging in the air that had claimed the cook nearly ten minutes ago had proven to be completely impervious to everything he could throw at it. Granted, everything he could throw at it were mostly one armed slashes with Kitetsu which would be hardly effective even against regular mist but as the clock ticked he found himself becoming more and more agitated. At one point, he had even decided to damn it all to hell and just run into it blindly but he had just wound up on the other side of the cavern.

Now, he sat with his back against a stone pillar wondering about his next course of action. Going back to village was useless but he certainly wasn't accomplishing anything by just staying here. He scratched his head in frustration. Walking out of the cave without Sanji felt wrong. Even though he knew the cook would understand if he left him behind in a hopeless situation, he could not help but delay his departure a little longer as his eyes scanned the thick mist in search of a tall slender figure with a cigarette in its mouth. At least with the others he still had the marble statues to confirm that they were still in one piece. Sanji seemed to have disappeared altogether and the longer the cook stayed inside the impenetrable darkness the more he felt like tearing it to pieces with his own hands if he had to.

He hated the feeling of being the only one of the Straw Hats left alive.

A sharp tingling sensation shot down his petrified arm. Zoro winced in pain and stared at his unmoving limb as small spider cracks broke out all over the smooth surface. The shiny black stone cracked a little as he tentatively moved his arm; then crumbled away exposing his skin and part of his torn sleeve. Not entirely believing his eyes, Zoro slowly raised his right hand in front of his face flexing the slightly numb fingers.

"What… the hell…?"

A cold wind blew between the marble pillars.

The mist shifted and coiled on itself. Zoro barely had the time to get out of the way before it whirled in a great black column and shot towards the skylight like a typhoon disappearing in the blue sky above. He could swear he heard a voice in the deafening roar and even saw a distorted face on its wavering surface but he immediately stopped paying attention when his eyes settled on what it had left behind.

Sanji stood in the middle of the cavern, pale and unmoving. His head was turned towards the cavern's ceiling that the spirit had just escaped through and he didn't react even when Zoro called out to him. The glassy blue eyes bore a lost and disoriented look. As he was preparing to call out again, Zoro could see him sway a little.

Something clicked inside him compelling him to rush forward and grab the cook by his shoulders. Sanji didn't even flinch as his gaze remained fixed on the skylight, oblivious to everyone and everything around him. Zoro got the uneasy feeling that his hold was the only thing keeping his crewmate on his feet right now.

"Oi! Have you gone deaf or something?" He felt panic creep in his voice as he shook the blond cook in his arms and saw his head loll helplessly from side to side. "Damn it, dartbrow, talk to me! What the hell happened in there? What did you do?!"

"I'm sorry Miriam."

Sanji's voice came out so faint and raspy that Zoro almost didn't hear it. For a second, he just stood there completely baffled, fingers still digging into the unresisting shoulders. His stunned expression was quickly replaced with an alarmed one when the cook's blue eyes slid shut and he collapsed against him.

"O…Oi! Hold on!" He found himself losing balance as they both slid to the ground. "Don't fucking do this to me now! Pull yourself together! Love cook!"

He gave the slender frame another vigorous shake only now noticing how cold the cook's skin felt against his. He almost didn't dare to breathe as his hands fumbled around Sanji's wrists desperately looking for a pulse. A sinking feeling settled in his stomach as he realized he didn't even know what to do if he didn't find one. In his head, he cursed himself for never paying attention whenever Chopper went on about medical training or even basic first aid. He knew how to deal with wounds but this was on a completely different level for him. His arms wrapped around the unresponsive cook trying to at least keep him warm.

"Come on, curly brow, give me a sign!" He frantically patted the cook's pale face trying to evoke some kind of response but the blonde's head just hung limp against his shoulder. "I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong! Sanj..!"

A small stone hit him on the head.

Zoro looked up only to have a stream a dust and sand cloud his vision. He coughed and frantically scrubbed his face as his eyes caught sight of a humongous crack slowly spreading along the cavern's ceiling starting from the skylight. Some of the pillars creaked and wobbled, no longer able to hold the weight of the cavern. As he looked around, a small part of the ceiling came loose and crashed to the floor.

Zoro rolled his eyes.

"Great! That's exactly what I needed."

Aaaand my favorite chapter is finally over! I'll admit, I enjoyed the hell out of this one. From now one, it's the beginning of the end. Sniff...sniff...

Your reviews feed me on a deep emotional level. If I could frame each and every one of them, I would.