(A/N)

My hopes are that this will get finished by or before the year mark. It'll be iffy, especially since I originally thought this would only get maybe six chapters; look how well that turned out…

P.S. No, I'm not sure if it's Juju or JuJu.

(End A/N)

"It's… a bit dark in here."

"It is, isn't it? I hadn't noticed, since I don't have to bother noticing solid objects."

"That's right, rub it in." Steve bonked his shoulder against another column. "Are there torches, or anything to give off light?"

"Yes, in fact you're walking past a shelf of lanterns right now."

"…."

Silent as shadow, the man crept. The darkness hindered him not, for his job was largely uneventful and allowed for him to train all his senses. Operating solely on the movement of air and the feel of stone against his fingers, Vonvarr crept forward, rapidly gaining on the source of scraping metals.

That is, until he hit his foot against a boulder. Then, he concentrated on not paying attention to the particular sense stemming from a stubbed toe.

Limping onward, the Marine kept to his duty; he was obligated by job and revenge to stop any user of JuJu, and the Leader of the Minion Army was a definite JuJuer.

But, then he stubbed his other toe and all the thoughts of responsibility faded as he clutched his foot.

Crying silently, Sanji's tears glistened against the late afternoon sun. His woes traced their most recent source back to when he was forced to agree with the swordsman on who would watch over the -beautiful- Robin, and who would be in charge of getting the ship back to the island.

Silently cursing the green-headed man and his poor sense of direction, the chef spun the ship to starboard and towards the one who was farther back in the line of his sources of woe.

Meanwhile, as the chef cried manly tears and the ship sailed back towards the direction from whence it came, the resident swordsman did some weightlifting to pass the time.

Not in his gym, though. Sanji had made him agree to stay by the side of the archaeologist, and Zoro couldn't even fit his weights through the door into the girls' quarters. So, he had to improvise slightly.

Alternating which arm lifted the navigator's bed, he half-watched Robin as he lifted. The woman was definitely becoming more mobile, but her sleep was simultaneously becoming less deep; she'd gradually been moving from exclamations to an occasional full muffled word while her breathing became less regular with each passing moment.

As he was about to hit the two hundred mark, one of Zoro's wounds started a new campaign of pain. His efforts to remain upright were in vain, as he found himself unable to retain a reign over the inhumane drain of strength.

He found himself staggering towards the other bed. Abruptly, it dawned on him that the leg of the navigator's bed was about to impale the archaeologist through the neck, which would be less than beneficial- using the last of his strength, he yanked the bed away from the older woman.

Unfortunately for him, this meant that he was even more weakened and directly under a heavy bed frame. After a loud thud, Zoro found himself more exhausted and gasping for air, stuck under a bed which was still occupied.

Not only that, Shusui was poking him in the ribs.

Meanwhile, the chef resisted the powerful urge to check what the noise was.

"This will be the seventh."

"I'd prefer you didn't remind me of the number each time." Channeling the bare minimum into the depression, Steve calculated again- even the absolute least amount of mana required for each marker was a sizeable chunk of what his armor could store. His rough estimates placed him at around fifteen total that he could activate, barring any issues with the armor reducing his reserve.

"It's mostly for my own benefit, I can't exactly remember how many sigils would have been needed for this. It was either fifty-eight, or ninety-three."

"Not that I'll be able to manage that many, but what's the difference?"

"Ninety-three if Knot opted for the entire chunk of land, fifty-eight for the structure alone."

"Land… wouldn't the symbols for the land be outside the structure?"

"I'm guessing you can't swim very well, so I myself am hoping that there are only fifty-eight."

"What fun." As Steve was taking a wide a step over a crack in the old and worn floor, the tear in the abdomen section of his armor pressed against the accompanying wound. Grimacing, he walked on. "I probably can't manage more than-"

"Slightly over a dozen, I've guessed. There should be something this way that will help, but it will depend on what Knot's actions."

"Ah. Just to pass the time, do you know what happened to the old Minions?"

"The Mins? They probably drowned themselves by accident. No, seriously. They would always fall into the water if the Leader or I didn't keep ordering them not to try fishing unsupervised. If not that, then they likely just died off in the Breeding Depths."

"Oh? Bummer. Might have been a good addition to my horde."

"You don't have your own Mins with you? I've not seen them."

"Only I was able to use the gem, but my advisor has been communicating occasionally."

"Really? How?"

Stepping around another gouge the entity hovered over, the Overlord kept pace. "A connection between made the core magical power of the Tower and my helmet."

For a few moments the dead woman was quiet and contemplative, but then spoke again. "Your Tower, could you describe it?"

"Eh. Big. Tall. Imposing. Spiky. Tall. Imposing. Sturdy. Attracts heroes like a princess in distress."

"Core magical power… big orb? Silvery, maybe?"

"Yes, how-"

"Probably stays in a pool most of the time?"

"Yes, but how do you know-"

Stopping by another mark on the wall, the entity spoke while gesturing at it. "The Fortress had thirty of them."

In response, the lantern crashed to the floor as its previous holder's thought process crashed at the thought of the sheer power the mere concept carried with it. The oil spread from the broken orb that had held it, and a low fire spread across the floor slowly.

"Smart. So, how are you going to see now?"

Seeing the distant light ahead, Vonvarr increased his speed at the cost of paying attention to the floor- and it cost him splendidly. After stepping on air, he descended until a soft kunk and some pain registered to his senses.

And then, the stock of Wilbert's rifle landed on his groin. Before that pain could fade, the barrel tipped and whacked him on the face.

"Here's another."

"Already?"

"Yes; we are almost to the end of this wall, with maybe twelve total in this room. The rest of the sigils on the lower levels should be easier."

Activating the carvings, the Amasser of Armies continued to follow the wavering form. Fortunately, it got slightly more visible in the dark- simultaneously unfortunate for anyone less stoic than the Overlord, because the shivering and squiggly form would scare the pants off many a persons under a wide range of circumstances.

"I'll need a replenishment of-"

"I've got it covered, you should only have to be in the red for one activation."

In response, a slightly irritated grunt resonated.

"At least I'm taking your well-being somewhat into consideration. Be glad, lesser Master."

"Oh, just look at me tripping over myself in gratitude." Accelerating past the entity, the Overlord briskly moved; the constant berating was wearing farther and farther into his nerves.

"Your sarcastic tone is noted, approved, and resented all at the same time." If it had a mouth, a half-smile would have spread on the partially formless remnant of the dead Leaderess.

Glancing over the side of the shipr, the chef frowned; there were odd ripples on the surface that formed what looked to be a distantly spaced circle of points around the island, which sat mere minutes away from the Sunny's current location.

As he was looking backward at a ripple the ship had passed, Sanji noticed that the Marine caravel had turned around and was in pursuit. Though the Sunny had a head start and an already established speed, the other vessel was barely closing the distance.

That is, until the chef saw that there were oars being extended from the sides and what may have been large cannons on their stern being pointed backwards and prepared to fire.

Furrowing his eyebrow, the chef tried to figure out if physics worked that way- though it took secondary priority to estimating whether or not the gunfire would interrupt the sleep of the -gorgeous- madams in their quarters.

Mounds and mounds of treasure spread in all directions, glistening beautifully against the distant background of vast mountains of gold. Releasing yet another cry of delight, the navigator once more swept piles of gold coins over her body.

Flinging those piles to and fro with a joyous leap to her feet, she then went wading through the fields of golden daisies, ending with an ecstatic plunge into water bearing large quantities of gold flakes.

Emerging at the other end of the flaked lake, Nami dried herself off using a mink, cashmere, and velvet towel. Handing the glittering cloth to her former Queen servant, the young navigator once more grinned widely and dove onto another great mound of gold and jewels.

This time the impact was far more jarring, however; much to her dismay, the great expanses of wealth faded, the edges blurring and the colors darkening gradually…

Drooling slightly, Nami opened her eyes; somehow, it seemed she had gotten to her bed and was not in fact living on a great field of gold and jewelry. Instead, she bore witness to the green-haired swordsman standing directly next to her bed and breathing heavily, not to mention sweating as though he had been doing something arduous.

Her reflexes kicked in, having her lash and cry out in surprise. Caught off guard, Zoro was flung backwards several feet, landing on his face with his back in pain.

With the seemingly imminent danger launched, Nami did an emergency check- fortunately neither her hair nor clothing had been mussed terribly, so all she had to do was adjust her shirt before the door slammed open.

True to the his average, it had taken the chef roughly seconds to open the door; the navigator had done tests a few weeks before, leaving Sanji's record clocked at one point eight nine seconds from a scream to the door being thrown open.

"Whatever is the matter, my dear sweet?"

"Why is he in here?", aforementioned dear sweet demanded while pointing at the swordsman.

"Worry not, my lady! He was only supposed to have been watching over Madame Robin, though the green-headed bastard seems to have gone and interrupted your undoubtedly wondrous rest!"

Rubbing his bruised lower back, the swordsman glared at one person and scowled at the other. "This isn't my fault, you blond lech! I was just standing next to her bed when she hit me for no apparent reason!"

"You were standing over me while I was asleep! And breathing heavily!" It suddenly occurred to Nami that something was slightly off. Glancing around the room, she figured it out: "And why is my bed in the middle of the room?"

Grimacing, the swordsman responded with a shrug. "Just standing here was boring, so I wanted to get some exercise while I waited. Your bed is one of the heaviest thi-"

A hand on the shoulder spun Zoro 'round, allowing Sanji to grab him by the collar. "Are you suggesting that the flawless figure of the lovely Nami is 'heavy'?"

The chef's own collar found itself clenched by a fist. "No, the frame of the bed is heavy-duty! You're the one that jumped to that conclusion, you moron- and why aren't you at the helm?"

"The safety of-"

Shifting unstably off her bed and to her feet, the navigator interjected: "The helm? Why would someone need to be- are we moving?"

Both replied simultaneously with "Yeah, back towards the island."

"'Back towards'? We were away fr… you mean the one that sticks out of the ocean, right?"

Sanji nodded; "Certainly, my swe-"

"The one with every side jagged."

"Yes, woman, why do you-"

"And we're headed directly at it."

Though it took a second, comprehension dawned on their faces. Before they could react to their realization, however, the starboard bow of the Sunny crashed against the rock and sent the three of them off their feet while the splintering sound of stone against wood filled the air.

"Here's the last sigil before you can replenish your mana."

Not wanting to channel magic from his armor's operational requirements, Steve uncertainly looked at the sigil that he could only barely make out from the rest of the wall. "Can't you give me a little magic, like you did when you reactivated the armor?"

"Hell no. I'm composed nigh entirely of magic, refilling you directly runs the risk of me dissipating. The one time before was an exception only because you were leaning over the edge of death."

"Then, can't I come back to this one after my mana is replenished?"

"No, it'll be easier to keep track of otherwise. Besides, man up, Princess."

Reluctantly, the Overlord placed his hand in the sigil's depression. Hesitantly, he used the bare dregs he had in the casting reservoir and went into the mana that the armor operated on.

Closing his eyes as the flashing crystal light indicators glared and the shrill sirens of warning blared, Steve endeavored. Once he'd channeled roughly enough to activate the sigil, he cut off the flow and waited for the alarms to stop and the spasms to lax

Ears ringing, he straightened himself, leaning against the wall with his hand still in the depression. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Steve nodded to the entity.

"Done? Good. Door to replenishment is right here."

"Right the- next to the sigil?"

"Yes. Quit the glare, I'm doing you a favor by toughening your squishy arse."

"Agh." Steve raised his helmet momentarily to pinch the bridge of his nose."There's magic beyond that door? The only place I detected it earlier was at the bedroom, yet this is a different door."

"Yes, and it's because of Jujuseal©. Knot said he'd use it on the tomb and any other chamber containing magic in order to block the Marines from finding the items if they managed to develop anything to track their aura."

"... What is a '©'?"

If it had lips, the former Leaderess would have pursed them in thought. "I… am not entirely sure, myself. I think Knot said something about it 'getting big one day', and that he'd secured 'the first one ever of itself', or something along those lines. It's irrelevant, I'm sure."

"Okay, then… how do I open this door? A key? Solving puzzles? Completing word games? Reciting a large quantity of jokes purely based off puns? Standing in front of it and flexing? Finding a virgin and spilling their blood across-"

"No, no, nothing that extravagant."

"… Maybe a virgin-"

"No, it doesn't require virgins! Where did you get that idea?"

"I read somewhere that a good virgin can do a great many things, and I thought that maybe the older types of magic would have a situation where that applies."

"Oh. They can do many things, but not here: this door opens on tracks. Go ahead, push it."

"… Sounds secure."

"Effective against people like you expecting something complicated, isn't it?"

"Fair point." Steve shoved the door with as much force as he could, and after a moment it scooted a foot inward before stopping. Though he continued pushing, it wouldn't budge. "What now? It stopped."

"It's also a sort of sliding door; you now have to move it to the left."

"… First I have to make a door explode, then use mana to open another..." Doing as he was told, the Overlord endeavored to slide the large block of stone out of the way. With each small increment he managed, the ambience of magic increased exponentially, and a light from the crack grew more visible.

Squinting at the rapidly growing bar of light that was almost blindingly brighter than everything else, the captain moved onward with an air of determination, his only weapon clutched tightly as his skull throbbed in two places and everything else hurt at least a little bit.

Very vaguely, he began to distinguish the shape of a person against the bar of light. Shifting the rifle to a more prepared position, the shine of the improvised bayonet's smooth edge gleamed ever so barely as its wielder stealthily charged on.

"My beautaciously magnifiwonderful Namillustrious!"

Adding a possibly ruptured eardrum to his list of pains, the swordsman hauled himself back to his feet using the wall he'd rolled against. Across the room, Sanji cradled the navigator who had already been woozy and unstable before she'd hit her head on the floor.

Leaving the panicked chef where he knelt, Zoro stumbled out of the room and onto the deck. The sails, still fully lowered, continued to catch the wind and drive them farther from the island that they had crashed against.

Moving to the side of impact, the swordsman leaned over the railing to see the damage. The entire starboard half of the bow was covered in gouges, though none seemed to fully penetrate the hull.

He'd figured out that the island's rock was unusually durable when he'd cut a hole through it, but Zoro hadn't thought it strong enough to damage Franky's prized Adam Wood. Looking towards the stern, he saw that a portion of the cliff face bore traces of red and white paint, and that the Marine caravel was following the Sunny.

The other ship was gaining rapidly, and looked like it planned to move faster if the two cannons on its stern were any indication. Changing his concentration to the matters at hand, the Straw Hat crew's swordsman moved to raise the sails and slow the ship down before it rammed something else.

"Sergeant, the cannons are prepared and loaded with the specialty rounds!"

Acknowledging the report with a nod, Baldrick looked to the crow's nest and saw that the Marine snipers were in position and armed. Withdrawing his twin long pistols, the sergeant raised one in the air and yelled out: "Second squad! Prepare for high-risk combat! Engineers, fire the propulsory cannons on my mark!" Shifting his stance low to counter the force of the imminent blast, the sergeant could only hope that he wouldn't wreck the captain's ship by accidentally ramming the pirates. "MARK!"

Rocketing forward, the Bucket did not quite go airborne; rather, plumes of water twice as high as the ship itself spread to both port and starboard, and the waterline rose slightly on the prow and fell equally at the stern as the ship's rear rose out of the water several feet.

Atop the stern deck, the engineers tried in vain to prevent their eardrums from evaporating as the unusually large cannons cracked lengthwise, fire billowing from places it really had no business doing so.

Steve got a warm, tingly feeling.

To be more precise, he got two warm tingly feelings in quick succession. The first after he saw the seventy foot wide silvery waters of a pool, which contained many active magic orbs that were each several times larger than his own Tower Heart, and around three sides of said pool were piles of treasure and the unmistakable glow of magic surrounding more than a few items.

The second warm and tingly feeling came after a loud noise and about two seconds before Steve fell to one knee again, another second or so before he looked down and saw that his stomach was bleeding profusely, again, from a new hole in his Arcanium armor. Another second passed before it occurred to him that being shot clear through the gut wasn't a particularly pleasant feeling.

Clutching his new wound, the Impenetrable One turned as best he could back towards the cavernous depths of the massive room, spreading the splatter of blood into an almost artful arc.

Clutching his rifle with a smoking muzzle, Captain Vonvarr walked forward out of the shadows.

(A/N)

Either the Bucket has some scary-arse cannonballs, or I just threw physics even farther the window than One Piece already had.

…

MAGIC!

P.S. No, Steve did not get shot in the chest. He got shot through the chest.

(A/N)