Siren's head throbbed, her limbs heavy as though her life force was seeping away with every breath. The faint hum of the ship beneath her was a cruel reminder of her captivity. Smoothie had left her alone for now, but Siren could feel the weight of her power lingering in the room like an oppressive fog.

Her fingers trembled as she traced the faint glow on her abdomen, the strange warmth she had felt ever since her capture. The child inside her was holding on - it was something precious, fragile. For days, she had tried to push through the haze, but the drain on her body had made it impossible.

Until now.

"They're not coming," Siren whispered to herself, her voice breaking. Her knees buckled, but she caught herself against the cold wall. "If I wait, she'll kill me... or worse. Marco... Ace..."

A flicker of memory burned behind her eyes: Marco's blood pooling on the sand, Ace's broken face as Smoothie and Teach dragged them apart. Her chest constricted with grief and rage, and for the first time in days, she felt the embers of her own power reignite.

"No more waiting," she growled, forcing herself upright.

Closing her eyes, Siren reached out with her senses, feeling the life around her. The ship groaned as the roots of plants she had coaxed from the wooden planks below began to stir. Smoothie's minions patrolled nearby, their life forces flickering like candles in her mind.

She inhaled sharply, and her hands glowed faintly green. When the first guard entered her cell, Siren moved like a shadow, her palm glinting like a sharp knife in the dim light. One swift pierce, and his life force surged into her, restoring just enough energy to keep moving.

The ship rocked beneath her feet as she wove through the corridors, silent and determined. But as she neared the deck, her escape was met with an unwelcome surprise.

"Going somewhere like a little thief in the night?" Smoothie's voice was a low, dangerous purr.

Siren froze as Smoothie stepped into view, her towering form casting a long shadow. The commander's blade dripped with liquid power, her cruel smile curling at the edges.

"I thought you'd learned your place," Smoothie sneered. "But it seems you still have some fight left in you."

Siren squared her shoulders, drawing the last of her strength. "You can't keep me here."

Their clash was brutal. Siren's hands moved with precision, Haki turning them into knives, but Smoothie's overwhelming power kept her on the defensive. Every strike sent Siren's body reeling, her energy draining faster than she could replenish it.

Finally, as Siren stumbled, Smoothie raised her blade for the final blow but a deafening explosion ripped through the air.

...

Cannons roared in the distance, and the ship shuddered violently. Smoothie's attention snapped toward the source of the attack, her grin fading into a snarl.

"Who dares-?"

Another explosion, this one closer, rocked the deck. Smoothie cursed, spinning on her heel. "Stay here," she spat at Siren, already turning to face the new threat.

But Siren wasn't waiting for orders. With Smoothie distracted, she seized her chance, slipping through the chaos and out onto the deck.

The sky was ablaze with fire and smoke as Shanks' fleet descended upon the scene. His red-haired crew tore through Smoothie's forces, their assault precise and unrelenting.

Siren's heart pounded as she ducked and weaved through the chaos, her body screaming in protest. She had almost reached the edge of the ship when the world tilted again.

"Siren!"

The voice was unfamiliar, cold and sharp. She turned to see a figure stepping out of the smoke, his sword gleaming.

Trafalgar D. Water Law's eyes narrowed as he took in Siren's battered form. "You're in worse shape than I expected," he muttered, raising his hand. "Room."

In an instant, the chaos around them shifted. Siren felt herself lifted, the air rippling as Law's power enveloped them.

"Who-?" she managed to choke out.

"No time," Law cut her off, his voice brisk. "If you want to live, stop asking questions."

Smoothie's forces, realizing their prey was slipping away, surged forward, but Law's movements were precise. With a flick of his wrist, he sent them scattering, his blade moving like a scalpel.

Siren felt her knees buckle as the adrenaline wore off, and Law caught her before she hit the ground.

"You're not dying on me," he muttered, his tone both irritated and resolute.

...

Onboard Law's submarine, Siren drifted in and out of consciousness. She caught fragments of conversation: Law barking orders to his crew, the hum of the engines, the distant sound of waves.

When she finally woke, the first thing she saw was Law's impassive face.

"You're lucky I found you when I did," he said, his tone clinical. "Though I'm not sure you'd agree."

Siren frowned, sitting up slowly. "What... what about Smoothie?"

"Handled," Law replied. "For now. But you've made powerful enemies."

Siren's hand instinctively went to her abdomen, the faint warmth still there. For the first time, she allowed herself to hope.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"To regroup," Law said. "And then to Marineford. You're not done yet."

...

Meanwhile, Shanks stood on the deck of his flagship, his gaze fixed on the horizon. His diversion had bought enough time for Siren to escape, but he knew the battle was far from over.

"Smoothie won't forget this," Benn Beckman said, lighting a cigarette.

"Let her remember," Shanks replied with a grin. "The world's about to change."

...

Siren stirred slightly as the low hum of the submarine rumbled through the air. She hadn't realized how exhausted she was until now-her limbs ached, her mind clouded. The salty taste of sea air filled her lungs as she slowly sat up, looking around at the dimly lit interior of Trafalgar Law's submarine.

Law stood near the control panel, his expression unreadable as always. He glanced over his shoulder at her, a flicker of acknowledgment in his eyes before he turned back to his work. His crewmates named Bepo and Shachi, were busy with the ship's operations.

"Where are we going?" Siren asked, her voice hoarse but steady.

"Marineford," Law answered flatly, not bothering to sugarcoat the truth. "We've got you out safety, and we'll deal with the rest."

Siren blinked, a surge of panic rising in her chest. "Ace... what about Ace? Does Teach have him?"

"Teach sold him to Marines. They took him to Impel Down first and now they will transport him to Marineford where they're going to publicly execute him." Law said, his eyes softening as her distress mounted.

Siren could hear her heartbeat in her ears and she felt short of breath. "Is there still time?"

Law's hand paused on the controls, and his eyes flicked to hers. He knew exactly what she was asking.

"It's bad," Law finally said. "The Marineford execution is scheduled for a week from now. They want to make an example out of him. They'll be ready to draw out Whitebeard and anyone else loyal to him. The whole world will know what happens to the son of Gol D. Roger."

Siren felt her heart stop. The weight of his words slammed into her chest like a tidal wave. A week. She had a week to save him, to save the one person she had grown to love, the one who had always been there beside her and Marco, with them. The anguish of not being able to reach him, of feeling the impending loss, crushed her.

"A week?" Siren whispered, her voice cracking. She closed her eyes, fighting back the flood of emotion.

Law was silent for a moment. Then he spoke again, his voice colder this time. "It's not just Ace, you know. Whitebeard's fleet will be coming for him, too. The execution is as much about breaking the pirates' morale as it is about punishing Ace. The whole world is watching. So much is riding on it."

Bepo, who had been silently observing the conversation, stepped forward hesitantly. "Siren, we're going to do everything we can to help you. To help Ace. We can't guarantee we'll get there in time, but..." He trailed off, not knowing exactly what to say.

"Thank you," Siren replied softly, her throat tight. "I can't afford to lose him. I would break."

Law exhaled a heavy breath and crossed the space between them.

"So we can't let that happen then, Siren-ya." His voice reassured her and strange trust started to grow between them.

...

Siren sat alone in the back of the submarine, her mind racing. Her hand subconsciously traced the glowing necklace Marco had given her, the shell a constant reminder of everything she had to lose. She felt so helpless, so small in the vastness of the ocean. A week.

In the distance, the distant rumble of the submarine's engines became a steady hum, a rhythm she tried to ground herself in, but her thoughts were elsewhere. The child she carried inside her... her unborn child. Marco hadn't known. Ace didn't know. Neither of them would ever know the truth. Her heart broke anew every time she thought about it.

She closed her eyes for a moment, the pain in her chest sharp and deep.

Then, a soft knock on the door of the small room she had been resting in. Law entered, his eyes softening ever so slightly when he saw the vulnerable look on her face. He didn't say anything at first, just took a seat across from her.

"What will happen if we can't stop the execution?" she asked quietly, almost to herself, but Law answered anyway.

"They'll make an example of Ace, yes. The world will know that no one, not even Gol D. Roger's blood, is safe from the Marines. But it's not just about Ace. Whitebeard and his fleet will react, and it'll bring the war to Marineford. A battle for the ages, one that could reshape the world."

Siren's eyes darkened, and her mind spun with images of Marco, Ace, and the entire Whitebeard crew rushing to Marineford. She could feel it in her bones, the storm that was coming. And yet, her own personal storm-her child, the one she protected even if she hadn't realized it-was a force she couldn't ignore.

"Ace will die, won't he?" she whispered, her words barely a whisper on a shaky breath. Imediatelly she felt guilty of the thought, of giving up on him even for a second, but fear spoke before her heart could.

Law's gaze hardened as he met her eyes. "I won't sugarcoat it. There are forces at work that are beyond our control. But we'll try. For you. For him."

Siren clenched her fists, frustration and fear bubbling inside her. "I can't let him die. I can't. Not like this."

Law sighed, his voice softer this time. "None of us can control everything, but we can fight. And we'll fight together."

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. Siren's thoughts turned inward, the weight of her feelings mixing with a deep sense of responsibility. She hadn't known she was carrying a child until recently, but now it was as if every part of her was wired to protect that life. That child. And yet, Ace was slipping away. Marco was slipping away.

In the silence of the submarine, Siren whispered to herself, "I can't lose them. Not again. My mind won't be able to take it if I do."

Marco:

Marco lay on his back, each breath a struggle, every move more agonizing than the last. His body was broken from the battle with Teach, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the anguish gnawing at his soul.

The images of his loved ones-Ace's helpless face as he was dragged away, Siren's desperate cry as she was captured-replayed in his mind on an endless loop. The weight of the world pressed on his chest, threatening to suffocate him.

He couldn't lose them. Not like this. Not without a fight.

I have to get to them. I have to fight.

But the aching truth was clear-his body was still far from whole. He wasn't strong enough yet.

A voice broke through his thoughts, steady and gruff, but warm with the kind of wisdom Marco had long come to respect.

"Marco," Old Man Cricket's voice was low but firm. "You're not doing anyone any good like this."

Marco blinked, trying to focus on the old man's figure standing just a few feet away. His face was weathered, but his eyes shone with a determination that mirrored Marco's own-if not for the circumstances, then for the life he had built despite the storms he'd weathered.

Marco slowly sat up, wincing as the pain shot through his ribs, but there was no choice. He needed to move, to think, to do something. Anything.

"I can't just sit here, old man," Marco's voice was rough, like he was dragging each word from his chest. "I can't let them face this alone. I won't sit idly by while Ace... while Siren..." His voice broke as he mentioned their names, and he quickly clenched his fists, trying to stem the tide of helplessness threatening to drown him.

Old Man Cricket didn't flinch. "You're not sitting idly by. But you can't help them when you're broken. You can't fight with half a heart, Marco. And right now, your heart's not in it. You have to find that fire again. You need to heal."

Marco felt the sting of those words more than anything.Half a heart.The words cut through him like a knife.

I've been fighting for so long... but without them, what's left of me?

He closed his eyes, taking in a ragged breath. Can I really fight without them?

"No," Marco whispered to himself, his voice cracking. He shook his head, his mind racing through the images of Ace, of Siren. Of everything they had shared. He could feel the emptiness spreading inside him, a hollow pit where his heart had once been, threatening to consume him entirely.

"No... I can't." His words came out sharp, laced with something raw-fear, grief, and a crushing realization.

Old Man Cricket's eyes softened, his weathered hands resting on Marco's shoulder. "You're stronger than this, Marco. You've been through worse, and you've never backed down. Don't start now. You've got a family, a crew, a purpose. And if you're really going to stand by them, you need to find the strength to keep going."

Marco's heart thundered in his chest, a war of emotions waging within him.How could I find the strength to fight when I feel like I've already lost everything?

"I've already lost so much," Marco's voice was barely audible, but there was a fierce edge to it. "If I can't save them-if I can't save Ace... and Siren..." He closed his eyes again, trying to steady the storm inside. "If I fail, everything we've been through will have been for nothing."

Old Man Cricket didn't speak for a long moment, allowing the silence to settle between them. Finally, he sighed, pulling his hand away and staring out toward the horizon.

"You'll find a way," Cricket said quietly, his tone softening. "Not everything is lost, Marco. Not while you're still breathing. You've got something they need-a fire that's never gone out. It might flicker, but it'll burn again if you keep feeding it."

Marco slowly stood, his knees trembling, but he didn't falter.They need me. I can't be weak.

He looked out over the sea, the wind whipping at his hair, carrying with it the weight of the decision that lay ahead. There was no turning back now. He would sail to Marineford. He would fight with everything he had, even if it meant facing the ultimate cost.

"I won't let them die," Marco whispered to the wind, his voice full of determination. "I'll save Ace. I'll save Siren. And I won't let Whitebeard's crew fall."

...

Old Man Cricket had gathered a small fleet of allies-loyal men who had answered the call. Marco, though still weakened, was determined to push forward. Each day, his body grew stronger under the careful care of his companions, but the emotional burden was a weight he couldn't shake. The thought of Ace's impending execution, the thought of Siren alone without him, ate at him like an open wound.

As the fleet sailed toward Marineford, Marco stood at the bow of the ship, his gaze locked on the vast, endless sea. His heart ached for the ones he loved, but the more he thought about it, the more resolute he became. He would get there. He would save them.

But as the days wore on, Marco's doubts began to creep in once more.

What if I'm too late?

Every night, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Marco closed his eyes and felt the weight of that uncertainty. He could hear Ace's laughter in his mind, feel Siren's comforting presence, but the silence that followed made it all feel too distant. Too out of reach. He felt naked and alone without their bond.

Would he make it in time to save them? Would it be enough?

He was caught between the desperate need to reach them and the suffocating fear that he would fail, that he would never see them again.

But there was no more time for doubts. The world was moving forward. The Whitebeard Pirates were preparing to fight, and Marco had no choice but to keep pushing.

...

It wasn't long before the call came. News spread quickly across the seas, and Marco felt the weight of it press on him. Whitebeard knew. Whitebeard was gathering his fleet.

And Marco knew, deep in his bones, that the war for Ace's life, for Siren's future, was about to begin.

They were getting closer. They had to.

Old Man Cricket's eyes were hard as he approached Marco, holding up a message-a piece of paper with a single line of text:

Whitebeard's fleet is preparing for war in Marineford.

Marco clenched his fist, feeling a fire spark deep within him. This was it. The battle was no longer a question-it was a certainty. There was no more time to second guess.

"We sail for Marineford," Marco said, voice low but resolute. "No matter the cost. We fight to win."

...