The world was spinning, and Marco couldn't make sense of it. His body, broken and battered, lay sprawled on the sand of an isolated beach. His breath came in ragged gasps, each one a reminder of how much pain he was in. Blood soaked his clothes, staining his once-pristine white jacket. It was as though every muscle in his body was screaming at him, and with every passing second, he felt himself slipping closer to the abyss.

How did it all go wrong?

His thoughts drifted back to the battlefield, to Siren's desperate cry as she was taken, to Ace's face filled with fury and helplessness. It was too much. He couldn't protect them. And now he was alone.

His body was battered, broken, and bleeding, but it wasn't the physical wounds that tore at him. It was the crushing weight in his chest—the gnawing emptiness in his heart. He had failed. The three of them had been inseparable, always there for each other, but now it was just him. And Siren, somewhere out there, taken by that monster Smohie. And Teach has taken Ace... They were gone.

I couldn't save you, Ace. I couldn't even protect Siren...

His vision blurred, tears mixing with the salt of the sea. His body felt cold, despite the warmth of the sun overhead, as if the very essence of life was draining from him.

A soft shuffle broke through his spiral of grief.

"Oi, you're still alive?"

The voice was raspy but familiar, and Marco blinked slowly, trying to focus through the haze of pain. A figure appeared in his line of sight, a figure that seemed too much like a mirage in this place.

The old man's face was weathered by time, but there was a fire in his eyes. Marco recognized him instantly.

"Old Man Cricket..." Marco whispered, his voice barely more than a croak. "Didn't think... anyone would find me out here."

Old Man Cricket squatted beside him, his large hand gently pressing against Marco's chest. "You're stubborn, kid. That's what I like about you. You're not going out like this."

Marco could barely manage a small chuckle, but it was laced with bitterness and blood. "Seems like I don't have much of a choice..."

"Don't talk like that," Cricket snapped. "You've got more fight left in you than that. You're Marco the Phoenix, aren't you?"

At the mention of his name, Marco's eyes flickered with a hint of recognition. The fire of his spirit, deep within his soul, seemed to stir—just slightly, but it was there. There was still a spark.

"I failed them..." Marco's voice broke. "Siren... Ace... I couldn't protect them. I couldn't even save myself."

Cricket's expression softened, his hand gently patting Marco's shoulder. "You've got a whole lot of pain in you, boy. But that doesn't mean it's the end. You think Ace would want you to give up like this? No. That kid would want you to get back up and keep fighting. He believed in you. He believes youstill."

Marco closed his eyes, struggling to hold back the tears.Ace...

"You think you're the only one who's lost someone?" Cricket continued, his tone rough but kind. "You think I haven't watched people I care about fall? You think I don't feel the weight of it every damn day? But listen to me—there's always something to fight for. You owe it to Ace, to Siren, toyourselfto get back up. Your story doesn't end here."

"But I'm broken," Marco muttered, his head falling back into the sand, exhaustion threatening to overtake him.

Cricket sighed deeply, sitting down next to Marco. "You're not broken. You've just been bent. And I'm not going to let you stay like this. You're a phoenix, kid. A phoenix doesn't die; it rises from the ashes.Don't you forget that!"

A heavy silence settled between them, the wind carrying the salty scent of the sea around them. Marco's mind struggled to grasp onto the words that Cricket had said—something inside him was waking up, but it felt far off, as if it was trapped in the deep crevices of his heart.

"How do I rise again, Cricket? How do I get out of this? How do I live with what I've lost?"

"You don't have to live with it forever," Cricket answered quietly, his gaze shifting to the horizon. "You take that pain, that grief, and you let it fuel you. You take the ashes and make them a part of your fire. Because if you're going to live, you need something to fight for. And there's still someone out there who needs you, Marco."

Marco's breath hitched in his chest as the weight of those words settled over him. For a moment, it was as if his soul remembered what it was tohope.He had lost so much, but Cricket was right—he wasMarco the Phoenix,and that fire inside him had never truly gone out.

Slowly, Marco shifted, wincing as he pushed himself to sit up, his body screaming in protest. But the pain was different now—dull, almost bearable, because there was something in him that had ignited once more.

"You're not alone, kid," Cricket muttered, offering Marco a steady hand. "You've still got a fire to fight for. Now, let's see if we can't get you back to where you belong."

Marco took a shaky breath and reached out, grasping Cricket's hand with whatever strength he had left he rose to his feet. The fire was faint, but it was there.

"I'll rise," Marco whispered, his voice steadying.

And though the pain was still sharp, and his body still broken, something had changed. Marco the Phoenix wasn't finished yet.

...

Ace:

Ace's mind was clouded in darkness.

The pain in his body was an afterthought. It was there, sharp and unyielding, a constant reminder of the battle that had torn him apart. Every movement felt like his limbs were made of broken glass, shards of pain stabbing into his bones with each breath he tried to take. But that pain—physical pain—was a distant echo compared to the gnawing agony that clung to his heart like a shadow.

His eyes snapped open, but the world around him was blurred. His vision flickered, and for a moment, he didn't know where he was or how long he had been unconscious. It was the heat on his skin that first registered—the familiar warmth of the sun—and the faint rustle of leaves, telling him he was outside.

But none of that mattered. The pain, the agony—it was all secondary.

Ace's breath caught in his throat as images crashed into his mind, one after another, relentless.

Siren.

She was there, standing before him, her voice a soft whisper in his ears:"I'm sorry."

Her words echoed through his head, relentless, a heavy weight sinking into his chest. The image of her face, that look of sorrow and regret in her eyes, haunted him like a ghost. He couldn't shake it. He couldn't understand why she had said that. Why was she apologizing? What had happened to her?

And then—

Marco.

His chest tightened as his mind replayed the image of Marco on that godforsaken beach, broken and bleeding, unable to move. The image of Marco's eyes—wide, filled with pain, yet determined. But Marco's body… His body was pale,lifeless. The last breath Ace had heard Marco take had been slow, weak. And now, Ace could feel the weight of that moment, the crushing weight of losing someone he had called a brother, someone who had fought beside him through everything.

Tears pricked at the edges of his vision, but Ace couldn't blink them away. The heaviness of the grief was suffocating, unbearable. His hands shook as they rested on his chest, and he could feel his heart racing as the images of his lost loved ones replayed.

Siren…

Marco…

There was a pain in his chest, deeper than anything he had ever known, the sharpest ache he could ever remember. The thought of Marco, dead… And Siren, taken away—gone, without a word. He had failed them both. He hadn't been there when they needed him most.

"Marco…"

The name escaped his lips in a tortured whisper, and it wasn't just the agony of losing him that twisted inside Ace. It was the guilt. He had been too blinded by his fury, too consumed with revenge to see the true danger. His mistakes had cost them everything. He hadn't been fast enough, hadn't protected them as a partner should.

His hands clenched into fists, and even that caused a surge of agony to run through his body, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered except the weight of loss pressing down on him.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, though he didn't know who he was saying it to. The guilt, the grief—it overwhelmed him, suffocated him. His heart felt as though it had cracked open, spilling everything inside of him.

A whisper of movement caught his attention.

"Shh, Ace…"a voice said, soft but insistent."You're safe."

He turned his head slightly, pain shooting through his neck, and saw the outline of a figure. The blurry image slowly came into focus—one of the few people who could keep him from losing himself completely.

Luffy.

Ace's chest constricted as he saw the worried look on his younger brother's face. The boy was kneeling beside him, his hands trembling as he adjusted Ace's position, making sure he was comfortable—though Ace didn't feel comforted at all. He felt like he was choking on his own grief.

Luffy looked at him with desperation in his eyes."Ace, don't you dare give up. Please… You can't leave me too."

The words stung more than any wound. Luffy was the one person left who hadn't turned away. Yet, all Ace could think of was how much he had failed everyone around him, especially Luffy.

"I… I couldn't protect them, Luffy," Ace choked out, his voice cracking as the weight of his words hit him. "I couldn't save them. I couldn't save Siren, and I couldn't save Marco."

Tears welled in Luffy's eyes, but he shook his head, the determination never leaving his face. "Don't say that! You fought for them. You gave everything. We're going to fix this. We're going to make it right."

But Ace wasn't sure. He wasn't sure there was anything left to fix. It felt like too much, like everything had slipped through his fingers and he had nothing left to give. Nothing left to hold onto.

"I couldn't save you, Marco." His voice broke again, the words barely a whisper, but they felt like they were tearing him apart.

Luffy reached for Ace's hand, squeezing it tightly. "You don't have to fight alone, Ace. I won't let you go through this alone."

But Ace's heart ached too much for any words to truly comfort him. The face of Siren, the guilt of not protecting her—of not being there for her—gripped him tight, suffocating him with its weight. And Marco, the brother who had died so that Ace could have another chance, another moment with them. Marco's final words rang in his ears:

"You're not alone."

"I'm sorry, Marco…" Ace whispered again, closing his eyes, wishing he could take back everything that led to this moment.

But it was too late.

He looked at Luffy and thought his mind was broken beyond repair, because his brother couldn't be there with him, just like Siren and Marco are not.

...

Siren:

Siren's consciousness clawed its way back to the surface like a drowning swimmer gasping for air. Her head throbbed with pain, her limbs heavy and restrained. She blinked against the dim light filtering into the room—no, the cell—and the oppressive realization of where she was struck like a punch to the gut.

Charlotte Smoothie.

The tall, menacing figure loomed at the edge of the room, her form regal and imposing. Smoothie's hands rested on the hilt of her blade, her smirk taunting. Her legs stretched impossibly long, smooth and decorated as they were.

"Well, look who finally decided to wake up," Smoothie said, her voice dripping with mockery. "How are you feeling, little Siren? You've been quite the difficult one to handle."

Siren glared, summoning what strength she could. "What do you want?" Her voice came out hoarse, but the venom in her tone was unmistakable.

Smoothie's smirk widened. "Oh, I already have what I want. You, dear. I have you, and I'll keep you until your will snaps. Perhaps I'll make a nice drink from you if you don't cooperate." She leaned in closer, her voice dropping into something colder, darker. "You should know that your little powers don't scare me. But I do wonder how much you'd sacrifice if pushed hard enough."

Siren gritted her teeth, refusing to let Smoothie see the flicker of fear in her eyes. "You won't win. I'll make sure of it."

Smoothie chuckled, standing straight. "Oh, I love that fire. It makes breaking people like you so much more satisfying. Let me know when you're ready to stop fighting so I can use you for my gain."

With that, Smoothie turned and left, her footsteps echoing down the stone corridor.

...

Siren sat there for what felt like hours. Her body ached, her powers muted, and a hollow emptiness gnawed at her core. Something was wrong, deeply wrong. Marco... Ace... her thoughts scattered, and she clutched at the edge of her cot, her breathing uneven.

The bond she shared with Marco—it was gone. That warm, steady presence, the anchor that had been with her through everything, was just... absent. Her chest tightened, and tears pricked her eyes. Was he gone? Had Smoothie taken that from her, too?

Her mind replayed the horrifying images of Marco lying broken on the beach, bleeding and pale, the light in his eyes fading. She hadn't realized, in the chaos, how deeply that wound would cut her. He didn't even know. None of them knew.

Siren pressed a hand to her abdomen. Her body had been fighting for something beyond herself—she felt it now, a faint flicker of life nestled deep within her. Her breath hitched as the realization washed over her.

"A child..." she whispered, her voice trembling.

Her child. Their child.

The weight of it hit her like a tidal wave. The grief she'd buried surged to the surface. Her knees pulled to her chest as she began to sob uncontrollably.

Marco had fought so hard, had bled for her, had probably died for her—she believed he had—and he never even knew. She never told him. The tears burned hotter as she thought of Ace, his heartbroken face, his desperation to protect her, and the moment he'd been torn away. None of them knew.

Her hand trembled over her stomach, where the faint flicker of life pulsed, barely there but undeniably real.

"I failed you," she choked out. "I failed all of you. Marco... Ace... I—I didn't know. I didn't see it. How could I be so blind?"

Her tears fell freely, and she didn't stop them. For the first time, she let herself feel everything: the loss, the fear, the overwhelming guilt. She mourned the life she could have had, the love they had built, and the future she thought she'd have but it stretched impossibly far from her reach.

And now, she had to protect this tiny, fragile life growing within her. For Marco, for Ace, for the family that had been ripped apart.

Siren's sobs eventually quieted, leaving her drained and trembling. She pressed her forehead to the cold stone wall, whispering to the child she now realized was there.

"I'll keep you safe," she vowed softly. "I'll find them. I'll make this right. You will grow with your fathers beside you."

The flicker of life within her felt like a beacon, faint but unyielding. It was the last thread of hope she had, and she would cling to it with everything she had left.

...