Disclaimer: One Piece is the property of Eiichiro Oda. Many of the characters in this story are property of me. Do not use this story or its characters without my permission. Thank you.


"KURRRUUUU!!!" In the brilliant flashing glare of combat, Reginald let out his terrible roar that echoed from the castle walls and filled the room with his war-cry. Rupert was still in fighting condition. The attacks that had been made to cripple him were negated and undone by his supreme healing abilities. The drugs he injected to give himself the unholy edge were still kicking his body beyond any natural limits and driving him beyond the border of humanity. Slowly his brain was eroding at the coursing effects of the toxins and his reason was lost.

He became a monster of fighting, a slave to his huge, mighty fists that swung in response only to the world moving.

"MO!!!" Rupert shouted, announcing that he was throwing a punch. Despite his size the fist he threw shot through the air with incredible speed, parting the very space around it and creating a tunnel of spiraling air that exploded out from his huge, thick arm. Reginald dodged it with a long jump to the side, his halberd staff across his back keeping his arms straight. "HO!!!" Rupert then shouted, announcing a stomp. Reginald jumped up as the foot connected with the floor, cracking the stones and shattering the air powerfully. Reginald flew up with his halberd ready to stab, aiming for Rupert's thick neck. He made a thrust and connected, but the muscles were so dense that all of his effort only resulted in a shallow little gash.

"Damn!" Reginald exclaimed. He reeled himself in, kicked off of Rupert's face and flipped away to avoid the monster's thrashing arm. "I can't attack him. He's too fast, to solid. He's too powerful! I need him to end himself while his mind is dulled by the drugs!" Reginald, to that effect, began a strategic retreat, knowing Rupert would follow. After watching Reginald retreat, the world blurred by hazy clouds of motion surrounding static objects of the castle such as its walls and columns, Rupert began making his own high-speed, barreling charge. His pumping arms blew apart the walls that they touched, making a wide pathway of destruction for Bard and his crew to follow.

"Come on!" Bard called to his crew behind. He still had Rez's sword slung over his shoulder and clutched in his hand with a limp wrist. "We can't kick his ass if we can't keep up with him! Let's move! MOVE!!!"

"Easy for you to say" Rez said, huffing heavily as he stayed at the head of the crew. "You're some kind of freak who doesn't need to breathe!" Rez kept running despite his own protests, feeling it necessary to watch how Bard would end up using his weapon and greatest treasure. "You better make sure that thing doesn't break, you moron. It's worth more to me than your life!"

"It's a great weapon" Marco said, running just behind Rez, "but is it honestly worth all that much to you?" Rez stayed silent. Marco could sense him tensing up, filling up with adamant drive and power, al of which exploded into a marvelous second wind that allowed Rez to sprint forward and catch up with Bard just as they entered the ruined hall where Rupert and Reginald had just fought. The sounds of battle were nearby, off in another room past a corridor with a caved-in wall that Rupert had just charged through.

"Alright Bard" Rez said, attempting to instruct him into the appropriate use of his wonderful sword. "My weapon could probably clear away that debris and blast us open a path into the next room, but you need to aim carefully. We only have two cannonballs with us right now, and if we waste one we can't get it back."

"It's alright" Bard said, tapping the sword on his shoulder, effortlessly lifting it up and down with only one small group of muscles in his arm. "I'll just cut the debris and not have to use the bullet."

"Are you dim!?" Rez exclaimed. "That'd take some kind of extreme skill to cut through solid stone and brick with a sword! It isn't that sharp, wonder-boy!"

"Alright then" Bard said, taking the sword tip and driving it down into the floor in front of him. He grinned and cracked his knuckles with an eager, boyish laughter. "I'll just smash open my own path." Bard made a dash for the wall, his fist drawn back and his face shining with a brilliant, combatant youth. He started up a roar from the pit of his body as he ran and prepared for a driving, flying fist to the rubble wall. "Baaaaard..." he began, charging himself up for a trademark-style punch. He kicked off the ground, flew up to the middle of the pile, spun around and kicked the wall down with a shout of "Rankyakuu!!!"

"..." Rez glared. He drew his sword abruptly out of the floor and sheathed it behind his back, allowing himself to safely carry it until Bard remembered that he wanted it again. Bard, meanwhile, let the dust from the debris roll off of him like a cape onto the floor where it settled and flashed a mighty thumb-up with a victorious grin.

"Oh yeah!" Bard shouted. "That wall didn't know what hit it!" He looked around, finding himself in an extravagantly huge ballroom with a giant balcony jutting out two-stories above the ground. Reginald and Rupert fought in the middle of the room, with monster king throwing his punches to scrape at the marble floor where Reginald expertly dodged and rolled away, using his pole-arm to vault away and increase his jump height. Once he landed after one of Rupert's flurries he charged in, hoping to land a blow with his halberd in both hands over his head, his body guiding the blade with a whipping turn into Rupert's side. The monster, however, had become smart once more, and leaped up by pushing the ground with its huge hands to avoid the blow and leave Reginald spinning away.

"Damn him!" Reginald growled as he hopped away. Bard dashed in to assist and made an explosive Geppou leap right at Reginald's side. "Bard, no! He's too dangerous to fight in the air!" Bard ignored his warning and continued to advance in a straight line. Just before entering Rupert's range, Bard sprang away off the air, leaving Rupert to swat at the cloud of air he kicked up. Then, facing a hole in his defense, Bard set himself up and planted his feet parallel to the distant wall, preparing another straight-line charge. Rupert's manic grin only widened even more and his eyes bulged out with rage.

"What will you do?" Rupert asked. "Try to punch me!? USELSS!!!"

"Geppou!" Bard made a shorter leap, a little jump to set his legs up. The soles of his boots pointed at Rupert's face, both of his heels pressed together. "Rankyakuu! Imperia BALLISTA!!!" Bard drew both his legs back, pushed forward into Rupert's frozen range, and blasted both his legs forward, shooting a huge wave of piercing air-cutting energy in the form of a giant bolt. Rupert brought his arms together and received the attack at full force...


Is it true, father Gretta thought as she ran, weapons in hand, legs pumping harder than ever before. Could it really be so? Just how much of what I know is a lie...? Who were you, and who am I? With such thoughts stirring up in her head, Gretta had failed to watch where she was going and tripped over a body of one of the Crimson Killers. She fell flat onto her face, her arms streatched out as her weapons had slid across the floor. She looked up with her eyes rolled up to the stare at her own lids in anger. Once she got up and examined the object of her trouble she found, for the first time ever, the secret corps of able-bodied assassins that had lived along side her in protection since she was born.

"Are there yet more of these things" she asked "which have been in this world without my knowing? Is this world simply here to humor me, or am I here to humor it...?"

"Hhhhh..." the assassin breathed, startling Gretta to stand up and step away. The body she tripped over and stirred to consciousness began making a strained, breathless laugh. "What deep thoughts for such a young girl. You're only sixteen, you know. It's far too early to question your own life..." With a final cough, the body fell silent and drifted into cold death. The decades of tension had caught up with him, finally, and ended his life. Gretta knelt down and put a soft hand to the cold, metal mask the gentleman wore.

"You poor demon" she said, grabbing him and embracing him into her body. His mask slipped off of his dead head and remained in her grip as his head hit the ground again. She looked at the mask, pure, hateful red with narrow, angled eye slots and a slitted mouth opening shaped like a row of fangs, and then down at the face that wore it. A man, old and covered with dark spots and rash-like blotches, with a flat-pressed nose from the years of never removing his mask. Gretta set her sights back on the glorious, inhuman mask and removed the blood-red cowl from the back. Using the cloth from the hood she removed, she refashioned the metal-fastening mask into a much more simple on and tied it onto her own face.

"If I cannot know" Gretta began "the answers to my life, the answers to the questions that I need to know, then I shall simply destroy the questions. I will destroy everything..." Gretta, with her bow and arrows in hand, looked just as much like one of the mighty warrior Amazons that she was descended from, a mask of demonic red over her lovely face to resonate in harmony with her own demonic force. She became cold, emotionless, pitiless, utterly devoid of any sympathy for the devil that was her father. "If I destroy everything, then all my answers will become clear. I will know that nothing is my true fate..." With such pessimism in mind, Gretta continued her charge, following in the beaten path of the Buster Pirates to face her dreadful father...

Back in the ballroom, Bard had landed and was regathering his breath and energy, all of which he put into the tremendous attack that had blown yet another hole in the castle walls. His Ballista attack had sent Rupert out of the room, trough another, and through yet another wall of the castle to leave his fate as of yet unknown. The one sign that gave him some solace that his attack was successful was the few drops of blood that had flown out and gave chase to Rupert's body after the attack connected. Reginald was next to Bard, ensuring that he wasn't undefended as he regained himself.

"That was amazing, Bard" Reginald praised. "I doubt that bastard'll get up from that attack without a scratch!"

"Yeah" Bard said, panting heavily. "Thanks..."

"Hey, Bard!" Rez shouted, approaching on his own. Reginald straightened up and nodded at him in greeting. Rez nodded back and unsheathed his sword, planting the tip at Bard's feet. Bard looked up from the ground with a weary smile at Rez, who wore his own grin under the mysterious emotional veil of his bandana. "If you break it, I break you. Got it? Don't kill yourself fighting this guy."

"Got it" Bard said, making a grab for the weapon. "I'll be careful. It's just...a matter of coordination...and rotation. Simply extended-body mechanics, right?"

"Just about" Rez said with a grin. Bard smiled widely at him, leaned on his sword to get up, and drew it out to hold it against the ground with one hand and breathe standing straight up. Reginald planted the spear of his halberd in a similar manner and looked over at Bard with a paternal glare of concern.

He's exerting himself far too much Reginald thought. The strain on his body from using Rokushiki in such rapid succession is starting to grate at his stamina. I doubt he'll stay conscious long enough to do much more good if Rupert manages to find his way back...I just hope I'm wrong. Suddenly, from the balcony, a melodious instrumental of awe-inspiring harp strings began playing. With her soft, cloud-white hands plucking away and her dainty, loving eyes closed to the harsh world around her, Gretta played a powerful melody that rang into the hearts of all the pirates and Reginald, charging them with confidence and raw emotional movement.

"Hey!" Rez shouted, less moved than the others around him, "how'd you get up there so quick!?" Gretta stopped playing for a moment and approached the edge of the balcony to address him.

"I'm just faster than you" Gretta bluntly called. "It's not my fault you're so slow. Don't be so angry at yourself."

"I AIN'T!" Rez roared with a fanged, growling mouth. "Besides, you're that princess chick, right!? What the hell ar eyou doing here?"

"I want to help" Gretta said.

"Okay!" Bard exclaimed, giving her a thumb up.

"Shut your face!" Rez demadned, slapping Bard's head back down as he continued drawing air tiredly. A distant crash in the castle was heard. The roof began to shake and the aged seals of mortar began to give way. Reginald could feel it deep in his chest. The castle was falling, slowly but surely the beast was dying. "What could you possibly do t help us, kid? This isn't some little skirmish or a part of your stupid tournament. This is an all-out war! This is live or die for us! Don't you get that!?"

"Of course I do" Gretta said. "But, I don't want you people to die. You amuse me more than my father does."

"OI!" the entire Buster crew shouted in unison. Marco spoke up for their behalf, feeling their pain. "What are we to you, toys?"

"And" Gretta added with more of a compassionate tone, "I don't want anyone to die who could answer me my questions..." With that she turned her masked face over to Reginald, who stared up at her with a long-withheld sense of hate. She was the cause of it all, all of his suffering and torment, but she didn't know that. She never wanted that. In her eyes, each time he looked, he could see the same trapped expression, the same longing for freedom and justice that each and every prisoner he had ever seen had. She was just another one locked behind iron bars, unable to run away from the prison Rupert had built... While Rez prepared to continue his argument, Reginald interrupted him with a sudden burst of laughter.

"Kururururu! Fair enough! If it's fine with Bard, it will do for me as well!" Rez jerked his neck in his direction and gave him a deep snarling glare.

"Are you all idiots...?" Rez asked with a haunting tone. "She could just be trying to get us to lower our guard, ever think about that you dumb-ass!?"

"AARRRRGGHH!!!" The Buster Pirates shouted with fists thrust up into the air. "Fight with us, White-haired Princess!" Gretta's smile went on unseen beneath her mask, but the sharp duelist eyes of Rez were able to pick up on the glistening tears that formed in her eyes. He decided not to argue any further and simple stood between Bard and Reginald, his gunblades drawn and twirling as all three faced the hole in the wall, waiting for the monster to reemerge with a bloody grin on its face...


Outside, at the bleachers still, Araly impatiently waited for the results of the battle to be made clear to her. The enormous castle had already shaken once, a grim sign if anything else, that the battle was going on with an unseen and unmatched intensity compared to the short bursts of fighting she had already observed. She waited with her hands clasped together worriedly, her eyes fighting back tears, and the golden alchemy paint on her back glowing in response to her distress to calm her down.

"Please let him be alright..." she prayed, bringing her clasped hands up to her mouth so she could smother her shaky breaths with something. Zan looked back at her from his lounging seat below and grinned. Then he turned back down to the waking Ramone and kept a close eye on his actions amidst the bodies of those he had learned to hate so much so quickly. His chest was closed now and his bugs were all returned inside his body, but he still looked a bit too wound up for safety.

"Ggggg....." Ramone growled. "You don't have'ta watch me, aright?"

"Even so" Zan began, tapping his cigarette, "I wouldn't want you performing one of your miracle escapes without me seeing it. That'd just be miserable for me to live with, missing the escape act of the Killer Ghost, Ramone Cervantes."

"Ggggg...." Ramone growled. "Don't bring attention to that idiotic name of mine. There was nothing miraculous or fateful about that escape. I simply bade my time and carried myself out with my own strength and planning."

"No luck at all?" Zan remarked in disbelief. "So, eating the devil fruit was planned?"

"It was expected" Ramone admitted.

"Getting your head cut off?" Zan asked. "How did training help with that?"

"I knew I could survive" Ramone explained. "As soon as I could use my powers I used them, away from prying eyes, and assessed the limits of my strengths on my own. My plan was limited only by the knowledge of my powers that I could amass in such a short time."

"Nothing fortunate about your escape at all?" Zan asked, still prying to get him to admit against his stubborn standing. "You know no one has ever and will never escape from the Gaol. That's what they said the day you slipped through their fingers. I'm in the know about this crap, pal. I'm an assassin working for Dragon right now."

"The Dragon?" Ramone asked. "Why're you here?"

"To train" Zan said. He looked away and smiled. "I guess a lot depends on training, including fate." Ramone was getting irked. The constant talk about his past was provoking unwanted memories of the Gaol, that terrible place of endless torture, Impel Down. He was successfully distracted, however, by the feminine stirring of one of the nearby bodies. It was Colleen, shaking her head lightly in her sleep, groaning to the imaginary pain of her dreams.

"Captain..." she moaned. "...don't die..." Ramone looked at her and shut his eyes in shame. He couldn't help but feel regret as his mind drifted back to the memories of his initial departure as the 'Ghost Killer' Ramone Cervantes. The sadness on Colleen's face, on his entire crew's face, as he sacrificed himself...


"Don't do it, captain!!!" the crew called desperately. Ramone stood at the bow of their sinking ship, only half of the legacy that made them such a driving, destructive force so early on in their life on the Grand Line. Already notorious and infamous to the Marines from his home in the South Blue, Ramone had challenged a battle ship with the unwavering support of his crew behind him. They had lost the battle, but to Ramone the war was only just beginning. Colleen, two years younger but no less in love with the dark, stoic man, was putting up the greatest struggle to remain on the retreating lifeboats.

"Just leave, captain!" she called. "Don't die for us! Please, don't die!!!" Ramone slowly glanced back at his crew, his eyes full of hatred and murder, and smiled.

"Gggggg!" he growled in laughter. "You sound like you're worried. They can't kill me! Not if they're all dead they can't!" Almost at that instant, the coincidental nature of the universe shifted against him and the rest of the ship was blown apart by the firepower of the battleship. Colleen sank to her knees in waves of screams and tears while the crew watched on in horror as the cannons aimed their way.

"Prepare to fire" the commanding deck-officer ordered. "Issue them a warning to surrender before launching fire. We can still take them alive if they comply."

"Shut up" Ramone ordered. With a single touch the man was silence. He shuddered briefly before dying, his mouth and throat coated and clogged with blood and his spine tapped. Ramone, with his instant-kill martial art of Shinkei Haretsu Ken had successfully infiltrated the ship by riding the explosions through the air and onto the deck. The Marines turned with a shock to see him, each one dying soon after with only a single touch from the deadly Ghost-Killer.

"Sir!" A Marine soldier announced, bursting into the enclosed bridge of the ship. "Ramone Cervantes the Ghost Killer is on the ship, killing everyone!"

"I can see that!" the jaded captain shouted. "Shoot him to death! We wouldn't even want him alive if we could take him!"

"Captain!" a Den Den Mushi called with an urgent report. It was an executive officer from higher up, calling in from headquarters regarding the apprehension of the Ghost Killer pirates. "HQ just gave us a new issue. No matter what, they want Ramone Cervantes alive. The crew is to be captured and killed if they retaliate." The Captain grabbed the transmitter and nearly crushed it in his grip. He glanced down at the deck where Ramone, standing among a field of bodies, glared up with an evil grin and outstretched arms, awaiting a challenge.

"Understood" the captain growled. "Ramone Cervantes will be captured alive...if we all have to die trying..." He slammed the phone back into the receiver and stormed out onto the deck...