Chapter 39
The eerie silence that permeated the ruins of Marineford's once-grand Central Command was more unnerving than the preceding chaos. Lieutenant Sarney picked his way through the rubble, half-expecting ambushes at every turn.
"Hello?" His voice echoed off the shattered walls, unnaturally loud. "Identify yourselves, damn it!"
From a crevice between collapsed masonry, a pair of wild eyes peered out. Sarney jumped back, rifle swinging around instinctively.
"Easy there, sir! It's me - Ensign Faris." The terrified young woman held up her hands, flinching. "They said the nightmare was finally over..."
Sarney frowned, taking in her disheveled uniform and the ugly bruises mottling her features. Attack or...? He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. "What happened to you, soldier? Report!"
Faris shook her head, hugging herself tightly. "I...I'm not sure, sir. One minute I was on patrol rotation, the next...chaos. Screams, fighting in the corridors...Then Sergeant Dolle was..." Her voice cracked and she trailed off, gaze growing distant.
Laying a tentative hand on her shoulder, Sarney gentled his voice. "Take a breath, Ensign. Just...tell me what you can remember. Any details could be vital."
"It was like a dream - no, more like being trapped in someone else's demented fantasy," she whispered. "Everyone was driven into frenzies, mindless and rutting like beasts. The things we did to each other..." Tears streaked down her face, leaving clean tracks in the grime. "Is this what we've become? Savages in uniform?"
Swallowing hard, Sarney tried reassuring her...and himself. "You know our code, Faris. We hold justice and order sacred above all else. Whatever happened here, those weren't our true selves at work but some external-"
"Oh, stuff it with the propaganda, Lieutenant!" The harsh bark from further ahead made them both jump.
Private Corza stumped towards them through the gloom, face twisted in a sneer. His uniform hung open and his sidearm dangled from one hand with studied nonchalance. "You know as well as the rest of us that we lost any high ground the minute we turned on each other like that."
Faris flinched, shrinking back against the rubble heap. A hateful glower cut through the shadows briefly. "You...you were one of the first to lose control, Corza."
"Yeah? And you were just asking for it the way you always strut around, little slut." The verbal retaliation dripped with venom. "The apple was real sweet once we took a bite..."
Snarling, Sarney interposed himself between the two soldiers. "That's enough! I won't have your filth bandied about while good men and women lie dead." His jaw clenched, gaze flickering between their sullied faces. "And make no mistake - I will see the entire truth come to light, no matter how ugly it proves."
For a long, tense moment they faced each other down in wary standoff amid the ravaged compound. Slowly, one by one, more haggard Marines began emerging from the wreckage like revenants creeping back from some dark abyss. Their expressions ranged from sickened shock to haunted vacancy.
Sarney studied their broken countenances, searching for any kernel of the stalwart Justice they had sworn their lives to uphold...but finding only devastation in its wake.
"Orders, sir?" Corza demanded at last, shouldering his rifle with an indolent sneer that somehow conveyed both threat and derision. "We gonna just stand around feeling sorry for ourselves while the whole world descends into anarchy out there?"
Head pounding, Sarney took a slow breath and tried to gather his scattered bearings. They needed rebuilding - that much was clear. But first, accountability. Some semblance of honor and duty must be reclaimed before all cohesion splintered irreparably.
"We take stock," he said at last in measured tones. "All the facts, no matter how damning. Those able will assist with search and rescue, triage for the wounded. Every Marine, myself included, will be debriefed on this...incident in full."
Faris seemed to rally slightly at his steadfast pronouncement, nodding firmly through her haunted features. Others stood a bit straighter, determination eclipsing their hollow thousand-yard stares.
"After that..." Sarney's jaw clenched hard enough to creak. "We regroup, reassess...and decide just what being a 'Marine' even means in the aftermath of whatever fresh hell we've birthed here. Because no matter how ugly the revelations, we're oath-bound to face them unflinchingly."
The words rang through the shattered compound with surprising finality. All around him, men and women with dead souls peered out of ashen faces, awaiting the harsh judgment they knew must now follow.
Because the Nightmare at Marineford was far from over. No...now they faced a far more excruciating ordeal.
Reckoning.
XXX
Doctor Selah stared in weary disbelief at her latest case reports, shaking her head slowly. Beside her, a young medic from the reserves gazed on with shock-widened eyes.
"There's no misprint, is there, ma'am? It...really says we treated over three hundred rapes just since last night?" The words seemed to strangle the kid, ghosts of horror creeping across his features.
Selah's nod was wooden, grim. "Numbers don't lie, corpsman. But context means everything." She lifted her gaze to study the boy piercingly. "What you saw was pure carnality given form through that thrice-damned fruit Big Mom's minions fed us. Nothing more, nothing less."
The young medic shuddered, still clearly wrestling his own private nightmares from the past forty-eight hours. "But ma'am...those were our own people. Sisters, wives, husbands, friends, all..." His voice faltered raggedly. "How could they... How could any of us do those things?"
Dropping her reports atop the already groaning stack, the Doctor turned and gripped her pupil's shoulders in a steely vise. She forced him to meet her own flint-eyed stare, expression taut.
"Because that's the entire bloody point, son. We didn't - our darkest selves did." Her gaze drilled into him with cold purpose. "Now breathe deeply and listen up, because some hard truths are coming. Sit down if you must."
Numbly, the corpsman obeyed, sagging into a nearby chair with a mute tilt of his head. Beyond them, the tent's reinforced canvas walls filtered in the distant groans and murmurs of an entire world gone mad with torment from the inside out.
Taking a steadying breath herself, Selah continued with relentless conviction. "We all carry light and shadow within us, boy. Angels and demons battling for dominion over every thought and deed. Most times, discipline and virtue keep the abyss at bay."
Her mouth twisted into a bitter line. "But something like that foul Devil Fruit goes beyond decency to stir up the very blackest dregs of our worst impulses. Lust, rage, insane pride at our most naked - they were all laid obscenely bare for each of us."
She raked an appraising look over the pale youth, noting his taut discomfort but refusing to soften her speech for comfort's sake. Not when such harsh wake-up calls were required.
"We failed, corpsman. Each and every one of us in our own way took part in that orgy of sin, regardless of how justly we thought ourselves guarded against depravity's grasp." A weary chuckle rasped out, devoid of mirth. "The Marines, shining exemplars of human decency? No, more like fragile idols desperately overcompensating for flaws we only convinced ourselves were long-buried."
The words seemed to strike physical blows against her apprentice's defenses. Selah allowed them to sink in like necessary venom before delivering the mordant final slap.
"While we knelt before Absolute Justice, it turned around and brutally ass-raped us all right back into the muck of our own wretched savagery. Are you beginning to grasp the brutal lesson we've received, young man?"
The boy could only nod silently, cowed by the ruthless flaying of every self-deception and lofty piety they had so long upheld as Marines until...this. Until reality proved just how tissue-thin the veneer of Law reigned over unquenchable human Want.
And yet, somehow, the old woman's cruelty was strangely...liberating? Refreshingly honest in the midst of surreal horrors beyond fathoming? He couldn't decide.
Mouth set in a grim line, Selah nodded back in cool acknowledgement. "Then we begin the hard work, lad. These heathens may have violated us on a scale to shake worlds...but at least they've shown us our true faces. Hideous as they may be, we'll get by easier with the masks shattered."
She reached down and hoisted her medical kit higher, shoulders stiffening beneath the immense new burden sensed there. All around them, the weeping and the keening rose like a chorus of fresh scourgings.
"Now come along. The Insa'Insa may have ravaged us all down to the naked Id...but today we begin healing to meet that challenge clear-eyed. If nothing else, the Navy shall not go gently into that sordid abyss of our making."
Overhead, the tent flaps were suddenly flung aside to admit a burst of searing sunlight. In that crepuscular glow, she could make out fresh reinforcements lining up to take their turns upon the tables of torment the main Medical Corps facility had become.
Unbroken Marines in soul if not in body - at least, not yet. But they would pass through that same exquisite forge soon enough. Selah could only pray some core remained after they emerged from their own personal descents into the dark heart of their basest selves.
Lifting her voice to a steely bark, she turned to the bloody work ahead. "Next stretcher in! Let's get this over with fast - the truth comes screaming either way, so bite down hard!"
XXX
Chaplain Masters stared numbly into the empty pews before her makeshift altar, unable to reckon with the sheer numbers that had gathered for this grim Requiem. Some dazed survivors fidgeted awkwardly towards the back, while others knelt head-bowed towards the flickering braziers.
All of them had been affected one way or another. Some just bore the scars more visibly than others.
"Who are we to judge the tainted?" She forced the words past lips that felt numb and foreign, aware of the hushed but desperate keening threaded throughout her flock. "All have borne witness to our sinful nature's black excesses these past dark days."
A low susurration of dissent hissed from various pockets, the wounded and the defiled expressing outrage at her blunt assessment. Masters didn't flinch from their accusations. They spoke easier truths than most could grasp today.
"Mourn your brothers and sisters who surrendered their last shreds of Light against that vile Wickedness conjured by our graceless foes," she droned on, gaze dead and hollow beyond the wavering candlelight's reach. "But know that each soul thus banished merely departed ahead towards the same mired Path we have blindly trod throughout these fell times."
Shaking her head wearily, she surveyed the ranks of the stricken and dispossessed - those inured to everyday horrors through long career but now utterly shaken. Had they really believed themselves untouchable by Sin's corruption 'til now?
"The anointed few who clawed their way back from that seething Void of Temptation which feasted all around us may yet reclaim Honor's Glory unblemished," Masters conceded, inflectionless voice rasping like tarnished bells. But her eyes found each of them in turn, mercilessly raking the stark symbols of their frailty.
"But none of us remain truly Undefiled in the wake of this...Awakening amid Perdition's Masque. We have all Fallen, through acts of commission or by turning blind eyes. The Abyss cares not whence its Supplicants arise."
A low, guttural groan rumbled up through the assembly like a wave gathering force in answer. It peaked when a leather-skinned Marine veteran - Captain Marreck, she recalled with fleeting lucidity - shoved to his feet amid a bristling of weapons cleared stiffly.
"That's enough, you lying Blasphemer!" he roared, features working in agony beneath fresh cicatrices. "The Faith has always taught that true Righteousness lies within each Believer's grasp! None here are beyond saving if we only purge our ranks of-"
"Of what?" she cut across his protestations in a rasping screech that startled them all rigid. "The monsters standing vigil with us now? The screams of sin personified? Of the screams of some rendered pregnant with the very Despoilers' seed? Or of others cast into shells by those who should have been Protectors?"
Masters shook her head blindly, once-regal features etched and haggard like the survivor of some pagan holocaust. "Nay, brother...there are no more pews here for the self-deluded. Now stands only the cracked and flensed Truth, spared no honeyed drippings to soothe our Souls' pathetic frailties."
She spread her meatless arms in wry challenge against them all, seeming to channel the malignant aura that had recently scourged them so brutally.
"We are no longer His Pure-Anointed but Husks gibbering impotently before the Inferno. In that singular, clarion moment when we all Fell together, His Grace abandoned our unhallowed number for more worthy custodians."
As her cruel proclamation reverberated across the chapel, a spittle-flecked susurration spread through the restless assembly. Marreck sank back to his knees amidst brethren likewise stunned and bared to this new blasphemous gospel of unbearable yet undeniable reality. A few wept in raw, primal cries of abject devastation.
Only Masters remained serene, distant gaze flickering back towards the fading brazier lights as if focused on some vision obscured beyond this craven plane of Doubt's ascendancy. When her papery rasp resumed, she seemed almost...merciful, alien as her tones rang now.
"Perhaps one day, we shall scour our Souls clean enough to reclaim that wasted Mantle of His Radiance. But for now, my Brothers and Sisters of Sin's Chastisement..."
She knelt at last, bones like kindling popping in genuflection before the alter.
"Walk the Path of Burning Contrition first. Let it reforge what you were into something worthier of serving His True Dominion...this time with open hearts accepting our Bitter Heritage. And should our Atonement's Trial still fall short of that Supreme Glory..."
Her head rose again to meet them, distant aura almost..blissful? Yes, that was the word - reverie's ambrosia sipped deeply at last amid the bleak denial's end.
"At least we shall have embraced Peace at last by surrendering all to the Final Purgation awaiting us."
She smiled then, beatific and mocking and utterly unrepentant.
"For are we not now Forged from His most Sacred Creed? Let the Flames become us, my Fallen Flock...and trouble this Sanguine Nightmare no more with empty postulations of childish Grace."
XXX
Hana could barely keep herself from retching the entire time. She watched from a secure vantage point across the pulverized courtyard, throat convulsing spasmodically.
Down on the cracked paving below, ragged clusters of Marines stumbled about in dazed formations. Some processed the continuous streams of new casualties delivered by collapsing field triage zones, while others conferred in low, urgent huddles over maps and communication ciphers.
But no amount of their grim efforts could distract from the true core of this frantic courtyard staging area. For gathered here were the violated...the dishonored...the rapes and ruinations made flesh in stark, endless displays of the depths their once-hallowed Corps had plummeted to at the Insa'Insa's twisted touch.
They lay sprawled across the remaining open spaces like butcher shop discard, the blood and viscera they'd spilled still glaringly visible even past sundown's shrouding veil. Here a young recruit huddled in a fetal ball, limbs and uniform rags hanging awkwardly around mutilated areas...There a child-woman trooper unmoving on her side, abdomen hideously distended and milky eyes staring blankly across the charnel grounds of her defilement.
And everywhere between, the stricken and the shattered stumbling about in milling rivers of human debris - all of them reeking of horrors Hana couldn't forget. How could you forget this?
XXX
A hush fell over the Thousand Sunny as Nami finished reading the latest newspaper, eyes wide with disbelief. Around her, the rest of the Straw Hats wore similarly stunned expressions, struggling to process the monumental news.
"They're saying Marineford was nearly destroyed by one single Devil Fruit user?" Usopp sputtered, glancing around as if to confirm this wasn't some elaborate prank. "That's impossible! We saw how tough that place was when we were there!"
Robin's face was etched in grave lines, brows furrowed. "I wish it were exaggeration, but the scale of the damage appears very real if these reports can be believed." Her eyes scanned the paper's half-censored descriptions of the carnage. "And it seems we just narrowly missed witnessing the disaster firsthand during our own chaotic escape."
"But who could be strong enough to wreck a place like that all alone?" Chopper asked worriedly, wringing his hooves. "Even Whitebeard needed his whole crew to battle the Marines on even footing."
At his side, Zoro grunted, arms folded across his barrel chest. "I'd wager one of the Emperors made their move. Question is...which one?" His glance towards Nami was pointed.
Nami shook her head grimly, lips pursed. "The reports never name the pirates involved directly. But rumors say it was..." She swallowed hard. "Big Mom's forces, using one of their Devil Fruits to cripple Marine leadership."
A stunned beat passed as they all absorbed the staggering implications. "But...why?" Sanji murmured at last around his cigarette. "That'd be like kicking the hornet's nest for no reason. What could she possibly gain?"
"More than you'd think." Robin tapped the paper's headline ominously. "In the chaos after their headquarters fell, it seems Big Mom also seized several key islands on the Marines' doorstep. Their territory has grown considerably."
"Damn..." Zoro growled. "So the old hag basically pulled off a perfect feint and sucker punch all at once." His grudging respect showed through the annoyance.
"While the world's top fighters were distracted with us and Doflamingo in Dressrosa, she struck their soft underbelly." Nami bit her thumbnail anxiously. "Trouble is brewing, no doubt."
On Sunny's figurehead, Luffy had been silent up till now, brows knitted beneath the brim of his straw hat as he digested the news. Finally he looked up, expression conflicted. "Does this mean we have to fight Big Mom now? I wanted to save her for later, but if she's being like this..."
"We don't know anything concrete yet, Luffy." Franky cut in, though his features were troubled. "Could be all this is exaggerated. We got enough on our plate already handling Kaido again."
Luffy frowned but nodded reluctantly. "Yeah...guess you're right." He turned his gaze westward, towards their destination of Zou, face pensive. "Let's hear what the Minks and the others say first before rushing into anything."
His uncharacteristically pragmatic decision seemed to settle the crew's jangling nerves. For now, they would continue on their voyage while maintaining vigilance against any ripples from this shocking event. But one thing was certain - the seas were growing ever more dangerous for pirates and innocents alike.
Still, Nami reflected as Sunny rode the waves onward, that was the peril they had accepted when they'd set sail in the first place. Come storm or sea kings, sinking or swimming, their course was set. The world's upheavals may force detours upon that journey, but never derail the destination waiting at its end.
So they sailed on through blue skies and calm waters, spirits undamped. Their own grand adventure awaited, come what mayhem shook the globe behind them.
XXX
In the darkest bowels of Navy Headquarters, arguments raged on late into the night as officials and officers debated strategies for containing the post-Marineford crisis still threatening to spiral out of control.
"Our projected losses in personnel alone could cripple operations for years, even decades!" One harried advisor brandished sheafs of graphs and projections across the room. "The sad reality is we may never fully rebuild our former capabilities given these setbacks."
Another analyst, face heavily bandaged, slammed a fist on the long table, making more than one person jump. "We all saw this report! Rear Admiral Pyral is already marshaling forces to start reclaiming the territories Big Mom seized during the chaos. Our focus now should be backing his efforts, not hand-wringing!"
The first speaker threw her hands up in frustration. "Those forces will be needed just to maintain order in our remaining provinces! We're haemorrhaging control by the day with these blasted pirate uprisings cropping up!" She jabbed a finger at the bandaged Marine. "Or did your injuries rob you of your senses completely?"
More shouting erupted before Vice Admiral Tosa rose, bringing instant silence. When he spoke, his gravelly voice betrayed the strain of this nonstop emergency council. "Enough. I won't have us at each other's throats when we face foes on all fronts."
He surveyed the room heavily. "Make no mistake, we suffered a grievous blow, and the seas will remain chaotic while we recover our footing. But we are Marines." His shoulders squared proudly. "Whatever the challenge, we shall endure and overcome together through discipline and fortitude."
Around the table, weary faces lifted at his resolute words. The Vice Admiral had assumed the burden of leadership amidst their darkest hours, and by his steady compass did they now navigate ahead despite the raging storms.
"Resources will go where they can do the most good containing this lawlessness," Tosa continued. "But our strategists are already developing new technologies specifically to counter Devil Fruit threats." His eyes glittered. "And when next we meet those demons across the field, they will face a far less merciful Justice."
Murmurs of approval circled the room, spirits rallying. One battle lost did not end the greater war. The Marines' mettle had been tested before through countless crises...and they had always emerged hardened, but intact. This time would prove no different.
Their course ahead lay fraught with sacrifice and uncertainty. Yet even amidst bitter setbacks, the Navy's heart beat on, resolution feeding its enduring flames when all else wavered. They were far from finished.
XXX
In a distant palace compound, King Rajak listened gravely as his advisors detailed the rapidly shifting dynamics brought on by Big Mom's decisive power play.
"My lord, your attendance at the upcoming Reverie could not come at a more pivotal time," his foreign minister urged. "We must take a united stand with other nations there against further lawlessness."
The trade minister adamantly disagreed. "Sire, this upheaval also presents ripe opportunities! With the Marines weakened, we can expand our merchant fleets further. Just think of the profits if we align with Big Mom!"
"And end up another slave state under her thumb?" snapped the defense minister. "We must reinforce our own borders to deter pirates now, not enrich them through appeasement!"
Watching the familiar infighting escalate, King Rajak raised one bejeweled hand for silence. "Ministers, please. I understand your concerns, but there will be time enough for strategy when I reach Mariejois."
He rose, royal robes swirling elegantly around his stately frame as he gazed out upon the moonlit city. "For now, let us have faith in the people's resilience. Our kingdom has weathered worse storms before. By keeping our heads high and hearts true, we shall do so again."
The passion in his voice rallied his squabbling advisors, who bowed hastily in acquiescence. Their ruler spoke wisdom, as ever. No matter how fiercely the winds now raged, preserving their nation's spirit came first.
Let rival empires clash and the great powers posture. Here, they would keep their lamps lit against the gathering dark through unity, not salvos and steel. By that light, the way ahead shone clear, come what chaos stirred in distant lands. Their fates would remain firmly in their own hands.
XXX
Over Five hundred ships adorned with Big Mom's jolly roger stretched to the horizon, an armada to dwarf legends. From her flagship's bow, Big Mom appraised the fruits of her audacious gambit with satisfaction. At her side stood both her Admirals, Katakuri and Sanjul, wearing matching stoic pride.
Around them, her brood of children laughed and cheered, drunk on their burgeoning infamy after news of their victory over the Marines spread far and wide. Big Mom raised a meaty fist, and raucous applause rippled out across the sea of vessels arrayed behind in awe.
"You've done beautifully, my children." Big Mom's voice echoed with raw, resonant power. "Our family now stands closer than ever before to completing the dream dearest to my heart." Her smile turned fierce. "The promised land where all races and creeds can come together in sacred fealty under our sweet dynasty!"
A deafening cheer rose up at her invocation of their ultimate paradise. Big Mom's smile widened, savoring their zealous cries like the most delectable morsel. Loyalty rooted in filial love, rather than fear or coercion, was the stickiest indeed.
"But greater trials still await on our horizon." Her massive bulk swelled as she rallied their spirits to a fever pitch. "For too long, this flawed world has endured the corruption of fat, thankless rulers. Now it falls to you children to sweep away the decay of the old guard!"
She raised one mighty fist skyward, features contorted in fanatical passion. "We shall trample any dissent beneath our unrelenting march! Not even those false gods in Mariejois can deny destiny's calling when we appear on their gilded doorstep!"
A fresh wave of exultation rang out. By the time it crested, the assembled multitude thrummed with crusading zealotry. Behind her theatrical rhetoric, however, Big Mom's gaze remained cool and calculating as she studied her devoted legions.
With these fools dancing upon her strings, the world's oceans now stretched before her, theirs for the taking by right of conquest. For too long, her ambitions had simmered beneath the surface. But all roads led to Mariejois...
When the seas ran red from the blood of any who dared oppose her ravenous tide, all would know Charlotte Linlin as the rightful queen ordained to rule these modern realms. Not even the hoariest Marine legends could stand before such revolutionary destiny.
She could already taste the saccharine tang of the future upon her tongue. An empire born from a righteous new order, beyond restrictions of law or superstition. Her face tilted upwards, sensing the sweet perfume of destiny on the horizon's winds.
"Full sail ahead, my legion of liberation!" She bellowed, raw authority rumbling across the waves. "Destiny awaits us in Mariejois!"
No force could halt their crusade now. The remnants of the old guard would be swept aside beneath the inexorable tide of change. By steel or guile, the seas would bend knee to her hunger's divine right to reign ascendant.
So let the sun set upon this broken age. The dawn heralded empires far grander and free of the failures of frail morality. A banquet awaited, and dawn's first light would illuminate their feast.
Onward sailed the armada, the dream made flesh. No distant god or withered government could withstand such ambition married to righteous vision. The seas themselves shuddered in anticipation of the immutable force now descending upon the four corners of the map.
A new era loomed, tantalizingly close. And by its end, all fruit would hang ripe for her children's pickings. The meek of the earth would finally inherit the mantle of power - and none would threaten their just rule again.