THE NIGHTMARE - FACET I

Maxwell groaned as he gently fell into the paw shaped crater created from Kuma's Devil Fruit. It was full of water and silt, plus some rather hard rocks poking into his stomach. Yet, for all of his discomfort, Maxwell hastily tried to cup a hand and drink the water. Unfortunately, having only one hand doesn't make that quite as effective. When that didn't work, Max dunked his face into the pond. He had been flying through the air for 3 days! His throat was dry and his stomach was empty, he'll take what he could get.

He was rather shocked to wake up mid-flight, several kilometres above the ocean. The sudden change in pressure from Kuma's paw had knocked him out, since Maxwell had lost some blood to his stump of an arm. Mordred, Minieve, had Salem tried to heal his body while he slept. However, the shock of losing a limb had radically shaken Maxwell's aura. He needed to be awake to heal his own wounds. Most of them were just scrapes and abrasions, but he didn't dare try to heal his arm though.

The blood magic Maxwell used to seal his forearm hadn't degraded at all, thank the Maker. His wound was still sealed, but Max could still feel the jagged flesh beneath the crystallized cap. It still felt like pins and needles, and like a vice grip was still clamping down on his former wrist.

…It was also still a shock to be suddenly alone again; Flying through the air towards some unknown destination. The only difference this time was that Maxwell can remember the flight. After the explosion at the Temple of Sacred Ashes all he could still remember was flashes. Colours and images really… Like his mind didn't want him to remember.

Luffy… was gone.

His friends, were gone… AGAIN!

Maxwell had screamed, raged really, after losing his family for a third time in his life! He cussed, blasphemed, cried out to every mundane and divine entity he could think of, cursing his fate. His aura flared like a bonfire while he raged and sobbed. It took him an entire day to finally calm down.

His first family had abandoned him. Sent away and bared from ever returning.

His second family had been lost to war. He may not have wanted to live in the Circle at first, but he grew to love the people there. Mage and Templar alike.

And now his third family, the Straw-Hat Pirates, were scattered to the winds! And he had no idea where they went!

…Truthfully, the only hope Max had of finding them was in the vivre card Shakky and Rayleigh had given them all. They had each been given a piece of that specialty paper to find Rayleigh and the Sunny after he was done coating the ship. And the vivre card's function was constantly active. Ideally, he could use it to navigate his way back to Sabaodey.

…But that was still problem. Where he was he now? And how could he secure a ship to take him back?

The sound of clanking armor snapped Maxwell attention back to reality, his beard soaked in water. A ring of guards had surrounded him, dressed in tabards, gauntlets, and greaves. Each had a halberd spear pointing at him.

Maxwell slowly took a look at his surroundings. He was in the middle of a city square. A crowd of people stood a few feet behind the guards, in all directions. They were all dressed up, holding food, carrying trinkets, and children were being held back, as to not approach them. The stones he had been laying on were in fact marble. Carved marble.

…So, he just landed on a fountain, in the middle of a city square, on what he assumed was a festival, oh, and the local ruler was staring right at him. Albeit on a stage.

"Who. Are. You?" The king punctuated every word, displaying his displeasure.

Maxwell stood awkwardly. He was still a bit off balance, having only one arm to push himself up. Maxwell bowed, if only out of curtesy, "Sir…!" He wasn't sure whether he should run or talk.

The crowd whispered among themselves, watching Maxwell like some exotic animal.

"Holy crap…!" "Hey, isn't that the Magister?" "Hold on, he's missing a hand! Somebody get a doctor!"

Thankfully, he still had his amputated hand still in his coat. He wisely didn't take it out. No use scaring these people any more than he already had.

"Announce yourself!" the king demanded. "It is only proper since you interrupted our festival."

"Sir…!" Maxwell swallowed realizing he was in the spotlight, so to speak. "My name is Maxwell, of House Trevelyan. I just arrived from a terrible battle and—"

"You dare speak further than what his majesty demands!?" A rather posh, Antivan, voice came out from the crowd. People parted as a man in polished armor marched forward. He wore a tabard, like his countrymen, but he also posed a set of pauldrons, gorget, chest plate, and a rather embellished helmet, with a peacock feather sticking out of the top. The whole visor looked like a sculpted mask, with a sharp nose and curved mustache. If Maxwell didn't know any better, he would have taken him for an Orlesian Chevalier. "Pray you do not offend the king further than you already have, criminal!"

Maxwell looks between the king, what he assumed to be the Head of the City Watch. His majesty looked annoyed at his subject's interference, but didn't stop him.

The mage addressed the captain. "Am I to be arrested or taken to doctor?" Max held his jagged stump to emphasize his injury.

"Hard to say…" the captain tapped his foot and and stroked his masked chin. "During the Treasure Wars, we usually ignore the presence of pirates until they finally step out of line. But you have only just arrived, and destroyed the city fountain… What are your intentions here, scion of House Trevelyan?"

He was mocking him, trying to escalate the situation. This man wanted an excuse, any excuse, to arrest him and lock Maxwell up. Well, the scion of House Trevelyan wasn't about to give him the satisfaction! "…At the moment? Nothing? Beyond maybe seeking some medical attention."

"Hmph!" Maxwell could practically see the scowl behind the man's mask. He could clearly see the arm, and didn't really care about it. "Guards! Arrest this man—!"

"That is quite enough, Commander Bellos." King Cello stepped down from off his platform and walked towards Maxwell and the city guard. He raised a hand, "At ease," and the guardsmen retracted their spears and stood to attention, their armor clanking.

"Am to understand you were recently in a fight?" Cello asked. "Your wound is evident, but I also recognize the patter of this deformation. And the Tyrant Kuma, does not typically use blades."

Maxwell didn't speak. This Royal was rather intuitive, unlike some nobles. "…I was involved fight, with Kuma, but he didn't join in until the end. But as to why I'm here, instead of a marine base, I cannot say."

Why had Kuma done this? Why kill them and collect the bounties on their heads? He was ordered to before. Why else would the Warlord show up again so close after their last encounter!?

Cello narrowed his eyes, "And what would it take for you to get off my island?"

Maxwell's eyes darted around quickly, scanning the king's intent. "Honestly? …A ship would be—"

"PREY FOR THE NIGHTMARE!"

All of a sudden, a hooded man in black robes came running out of the crowd. He broke the line, holding a dagger high in the air, blade pointed downwards.

O O O

"What!? I didn't give the sig—Dammit! Bastardos cultistas loco!" Helsing cursed as one of the cultists ran out of the crowd. She stretched out her hand and Helsing's weapon slithered into her hand. A hebi-weapon from Amazon Lily. A long golden serpent, without those ridiculous head caps, though.

"Get back to the palace and keep your cover! It's the only way how we're ever going to get another chance again!"

"Yes ma'am!" Cal nods, but pauses briefly to look back at the woman. "But what about you boss?"

The serpent stiffened into a golden staff. "Well, after I'm finished tightening up loose ends, who knows? I may even have a shot at the king!"

Helsing then jumped into the crowd below.

O O O

Maxwell spins around, eyes widening as he sees the blade hovering above him. Reacting swiftly, he raise a hand in a half sign and unleashes a Fortifying Blast. The kinetic forces blows the assassin out of the air and back into the crowd, where more robed individuals run out.

"DEFEND THE KING!" Bellos cries out as he draws his sword. The guards tighten their circle, immediately surrounding Cello as people run from the square. Maxwell casts a Barrier around himself. He was going to fight, even if he was missing a hand.

The assassins closed in, each holding a kris dagger in their hand. You couldn't see their faces. A weaved veil covered their heads, meshing with the dark shadows of their hoods.

Maxwell summoned up his foci and let Salem, Mordred, and Mineive unload into the assailants. Arcane bolts streamed out of the anchors. The assassins either defected the bolts with their daggers or changed course to get out of the way.

Interestingly enough, they didn't seem all that interested in the king. The ones attacking Max were a lot more tenacious! Maxwell was able to bring down three to the arcane bolts, but one assassin got to close, dagger flashing!

"Whoa!" Maxwell had to backpedal and contort his body to avoid being stabbed. He dodged several thrusts before he tripping over his own boots, breaking his concentration.

The assassin seemed to preen at Maxwell's misfortune, stopping to admire the foci clattering to the ground. However, before he could bring his dagger down, a serpent caught the assassin's shoulder. "ARGH!" It had come flying in like a javelin, fangs sinking into his robes.

Maxwell's assailant fell down as the golden python coiled around his neck. Following the projectory, Maxwell looked behind him to see a red headed woman smiling at him.

Her face was pale like alabaster stone, eyes like molten gold, her upper lip had been painted blue with lipstick. She wore a green leotard dress, lined with gold, under leather pants and calf high boots. Her long red hair was done up in a ponytail, but the long flowing locks still draped over the open red robes she wore. Helsing also wore a bit of jewelry. A gold trim ponytail cuff, earrings, headband, and choker.

Maxwell immediately looked nervous, seeing her. She had an evil smirk on he face like she enjoyed inflicting pain. The serpent returned to her hand, stiffening like a polearm, "Don't go dying just yet, Maxwell Trevelyan. I have some questions for you." Helsing then sped back into the action, going after another assassin that was attacking the king.

The guards held their positions, using their halberds to stay the assassins. They worked in pairs, if one assassin got hooked by the guardsmen's crook, the other would stab, before resuming the line. Any gaps in the formation was cover by Commander Bellos. His cutlass flashed like a flock of sparrows. The glint reflected into the assailant's eyes, temporarily blinding them, before being cutting them down with the same blade.

The last assassin tried to jump to break through the line. However, like a shepherd's crook, Helsing pulled the assassin back, the snakes fangs buried into his shoulder. He died, painfully as the venom coursed through his veins.

Cello looked at the woman coolly, "Helsing."

The red-head smiled, "You're majesty." She then threw her live polearm at Cello in an underhanded through. The serpent's maw widening as it flew to strike.

However, before it could get too far, a bolt of lightning struck the python. And the very same bolt of electricity drew the serpent backwards!

Helsing looked up, seeing a ball of purple plasma floating in the air. She then looked over to see Maxwell lowering his hand. He had cast a Static Cage spell beneath her. "It's not that I'm ungrateful, but I find that regicide is rarely the best choice of action."

"Tch." Helsing scowled as her weapon slithered back up her leg. The guards, having failed to react earlier, immediately surrounded the outlaw, weapons pointed at her.

Helsing slowly raised her hands. "This isn't over Cello. Change is coming to the Creamy Mist Archipelago. You can either fight it or get out of the way!" Her middle finger twirled, and a bag of powder snapped into her hand.

Bellos shouted, "ARREST HER—!" before Helsing threw the packet onto the ground, and the bag exploded. Smoke and powder erupted into cloud, obscuring all of their vision. The Static Cage didn't even react! Guardsmen ran into smoke, trying to grab the outlaw, but Helsing was gone.

Cello looked around. The square was largely empty now. No one else was around beyond himself, the guards, and Maxwell Trevelyan.

"Mr. Trevelyan, if you would please follow me." Maxwell's head snapped to attention, looking at the king who was beckoning him to follow. What kind of mess had he stepped into now?

O O O

In an antechamber underground, people in black robes prayed in a circle, sitting row behind row around each other. They numbered about two hundred, kneeling in a smooth, plastered ruin, though rusted with age.

The temple hadn't been as looted as they once feared. Where once windows stood, framed in the limestone walls, were little more than fossils now. Holes filled with dirt. Yet the ruin still had an air of elegance within it. The ceiling was a series of arches hanging from the ceiling. Their ends hung in the air like stalactites, iron chandeliers hanging from their stump. The candles were lit with ghastly green light. If you looked up, the ceiling looked more like pools of abyssal darkness.

The cultists chanted as their high priest hovered in the centre, arms out stretched as if to welcome something. Like his followers, he wore a veiled mask so it wouldn't show his face. But unlike the cultists, his robes were more ornate. They had been hemmed with gold, and seams tailored smoothly to perfection. On his shoulders was mantle for cloth pauldrons, and his sash was an obi, with a banner hanging between his legs. A red dragon, rising like a serpent.

His eyes glowed behind the mask, the same sickly green light as the candles. The light seemed to waft from the priest's eyes, and even more came from his mouth! Behind the mask, it made it appear as though some spectral scream.

Then the lights disappeared, and the cultists stopped chanting. The high priest fell into a crouch, practiced from many times in communion. He rose, and soon gestured his followers to also rise.

"Brothers. Sisters. I have communed with our Great Patron, and he has assured us. His arrival is close at hand! Continue our great work, build the apparatus around the mirror, and soon he shall deliver us onto Paradise!"

His followers watched with wrapt attention, "No more nobles to lord over us, beyond reproach!"

"No more nightmares to haunt our dreams!" Helsing walked into the room, down the stairs. She leaned against the wall as she listened to the head cultist preach.

"Beyond this world, is a place where we can all be at peace and live out our days in comfort!" The Children of Nightmare didn't clap their hands in applause. Instead, they stamped their feat, not a peep from their lips.

"PRAY FOR THE NIGHTMARE!" The high priest shouted above the cacophony.

"PREY FOR THE NIGHTMARE!" His followers resounded.

The procession then slowly filtered out. Some attendees exited up the stairs, while others went towards the crates at the corner of the room. They were full of nuts, bolts, cables, gears, and copper wire. Some had holes for hinges, while other pieces were stock rebar. It was a whole menagerie of machine pieces.

The high priest himself, walked up to the mirror he mentioned and looked at it. The mirror was a marvellous thing. It's design was unmentioned in any annals he had read. The glass didn't require polishing, it was a tall rectangular looking glass, tapering at the top to an elegant point. It was gilded in gold, with no imperfections or soldering. Yet, it could become something so much more!

Their first task had been to collect all the shards. Some they had to steal. Looters and merchants who explored these ruins before them had taken fragments and repurposed them for their own mirrors. Their sacrifices were not in vein though, their blood helped reforge the mirror after all. The shards had slowly meld together, like puzzle pieces, until it created this seamless sheen.

However, they still had to activate the mirror. They already tried more blood magic, but it wouldn't work like their Patron said. The mirror should have glowed like moonlight, it's surface rippling like water. Yet, all they had was a reflective looking glass.

Their latest attempt will be with this tunnel like apparatus, the materials supplied from Mecha Island. The mirror itself was connected to wires, plugged into various sockets around the ring. Two generators stood on either side, meant to power the machine when the time finally came. When their Great Patron would arrive!

"Hey sacerdote," the priest's reverence was cut short by Helsing who spoke up behind him, "We have a problem."

"Ah… Helsing," the cult leader turned to address the pirate. "How did the assassination go?"

"It failed, Sliep," Helsing snarled. "The whole thing was a bust, because one of your brainwashed fanatics couldn't stick to the plan!"

"Mm… I see." Sliep looked back at the mirror and contemplated. "…What happened? And did you take care of any loose ends, when the plan failed?"

Helsing huffed in amusement, "No loose ends. I made sure of it."

The cult leader paused.

"…I see you took the preemptive approach."

Helsing shrugged, "Your boys were more riled up then normal. They wouldn't back down even when the guards had them cornered. It seemed better to cut our loses."

"And what got them 'riled up,' as you say?" Sliep asked.

"Strangest thing," Helsing smiled. "A pirate fell out of the sky, destroying the fountain in the middle of the square. It wasn't just any pirate though. It the Magister, Maxwell Trevelyan! Poor bastard was missing a hand and looked like a deer in lamplights!" The she-pirate chuckled, "Caused a bit of stir, but it didn't seem like a reason to change the plan… But one of your subordinates did! Idiot broke out of the crowd wearing your cult's full dumbass attire and tried to—Grk!"

Sliep had heard enough. He quickly turned around and held Helsing by throat, "I tolerate your tongue because of your usefulness on this archipelago. That does not mean you have free reign to mock our beliefs."

"Do you want to know why he broke ranks?" Helsing's hebi-weapon snapped out of her robes to bite Sliep, but the priest cast a spell to freeze the serpent in place. "Because I ordered him too."

"Rgh—What—!?" Helsing fought for breath as she heard him say that.

"Don't get confused. I didn't plan to foil your little power grab. In fact, I rather hoped it would succeed, However… Any appearance of Maxwell Trevelyan is a priority. Something supersedes our plans, just by him existing…!"

Sliep then drew the pirate's face close.

"I.

WANT.

HIM.

DEAD!"

"But now…" Sliep drops the pirate, let her cough and sputter to gain breath, "Trevelyan's on Maruchi Island…! In the Creamy Mist Archipelago! This is perfect!"

"First, I'll bring my god into this world. Second, I will rule the seas as he burns a new era into the annals of history! And then… I can finally kill that grief stricken, beard wearing, UNWORTHY SEA RAT WITH MY OWN HANDS, AS I DROWN HIM IN THE PITS OF DESPAIR WHERE HE BELONGS! HIM, AND THAT RUBBER BRAINED IDIOT HE FOLLOWS TOO!"

Sliep looked at his hands, as if imagining the blood. "All of this, in reach of my finger tips…"

"Heh... Hehehe. HEHEHE! HEHEHEH! WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!"