CLICK.

SHING!

The room was dark. Cold still lingered following the bad weather from previous nights. Before the four massive windows on the far wall was an empty, wide desk, littered with charts and manuscripts.

It was Whitebeard's office. In front of the desk he stood, with four others in his presence.

One was the imposing and plump Scotsman, Brice Redneck, who towered behind his captain with a pistol aimed for the back of Whitebeard's skull.

With his blade inches from Brice's neck, Leonardo hovered next to him. To the traitor's left stood Borris, holding his dagger close enough to pierce the skin of Brice's jaw.

And directly behind Brice stood Old Man Jack, whose face was mostly hidden by the shadows within the room.

They did not, however, hide the raw anger within his eyes.

The golden sunlight streaming through the windows illuminated the grim scene. "So it was you, Brice." Jack said, still unarmed and calm.

"Move, and your dome hits the floor." Leonardo growled, pressing his sword against Brice's neck.

In response, the assailant tightened his finger on the trigger. "Don't fuck around, kid. It ain't gonna be a light breeze comin' outta this barrel if you don't step back." He replied, his eyes firmly on Whitebeard's head.

They could hear panicked yells from around the ship. The sound of footwear against wood as people ran back and forth.

Something was wrong, and it wasn't just the fact that Brice had pulled a fast one on them.

"Brice. Take the gun away from my head." There was no fear, no uncertainty. He said it as though he knew for sure that Brice would do it.

Why? Why ain't ya panickin', Captain? Why are ya still so confident in me?

Borris shook his head. "You see that, Brice? He still believes in you. We all do. You're not some tactical genius. He knows you aren't acting on your own as well as we do."

Actin' alone?

"Of course I wasn't actin' alone ya nitwit. You think I'd want to betray you? To throw the six years I've spent here down to sea?" He grit his teeth tightened his grip on the rough, wooden handle of the gun.

His old pistol. One of the two Whitebeard himself had paid for.

They were specially made models, designed to be flawlessly utilised by his Air Ley. His ability was to compress air to its limits, and expel it from the tiny chamber in the gun.

"Why are ya payin' for my shit? I'll find my own scraps to live on!"

He didn't understand it. Whitebeard's generosity. In fact, he didn't understand generosity at all until he met the man he was now poised to kill.

From refugee camp to camp. From part of one murdered family to another. He didn't live, he survived.

It was Whitebeard that showed him life.

"Of course I'm paying. You don't have any money of your own, do you?"

He said it so casually, with so much kindness, that it moved Brice to tears.

And now he had to kill him.

His finger ached against the hard, metal trigger. Memories flashed before him, not only of his crew, but of his wife and two children.

No.

He collapsed to his knees, holding the treasured pistol in his hands.

Immediately, Whitebeard began throwing orders left and right. "Brice, Lenny. Protect the main deck, and make sure anybody who isn't a fighter or strong enough stays downstairs."

"Jack, hurry-" He didn't need to finish the sentence, because Jack was already gone.

As the two men rushed outside, Whitebeard let out a sigh of relief.

Without so much of a glance at the cowering Brice, he unsheathed his sword and made his way to the door.

Yeah. A scumbag like me ain't worth talkin' to. But yer gonna turn around anyway, aren't ya?

"Brice."

Because that's why yer our Captain.

He raised his head and forced himself to look at Whitebeard. He was wearing his grey coat, hands out of the long sleeves as per usual, and had tugged on the heavy charcoal leather gloves and black, steel soled boots he only wore for serious battles.

Bruce opened his mouth and croaked, "They got em, Captain. Molly and the kids. Another spy was watchin' me, makin' sure I was doing as I was told. If I didn't listen...they told me they'd kill them." The anguish in his voice told Whitebeard everything he needed to know.

And yet, there was no changing the fact that Brice had been part of something drastic.

"Don't think you've been forgiven. Whatever you decide to do next will either damn you...or reshape you."

With that, he lowered his head and ran out into the hallway.

Upstairs, there was complete chaos, and an odd calm at the same time. People were running to their stations, gunmen were racing to position cannons at the railings of the ship.

"Sixth cannon is up!"

"C'mon, haul ass and bring the cannonballs!"

"Keep your eyes open for enemy fire!"

"NO! There, fix it there!"

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In the midst of this confusion, Jackie and Elma were helping out with the sails. It needed about five men to raise the main sails, though Elma alone did a great deal of that work.

She tied the final knot to secure the sail and glanced at Jackie. "I don't know what's going on exactly, but that fleet showed up behind us outta nowhere, right?"

Jackie shrugged, and stepped away from the mast and rushed to the entrance to the staircase. "I didn't see it happen since I was downstairs. Where's Rosa and Boudicca? And the twins?" He asked, and received no reply.

"Elma?"

Again, there was no response. She hadn't followed him. Frustrated, he ran back to the upper deck quarter deck, and found her climbing up the lines which were tied midway of the main mast.

"Give me a minute!" She yelled down, and continued climbing up the line.

I don't have time for this!

He left her to it, and leaped off the quarter deck.

But before he could get downstairs, Borris and Leonardo came barreling up.

"Hey g-"

He was brushed aside as they ran right past him. "Set up the cannons, quickly! Everyone who's fit and capable of battle, get up here now! All gunmen, get to your positions and wait for enemy fire!" Leonardo yelled, waving the few servants back inside.

It was the first time Jackie had witnessed him actually raise his voice. He's actually a pretty good leader, huh?

"OI, DUMBASS!" Leonardo's voice brought him back to the present.

"I thought you were a captain. Get your ass moving and help! You won't be much of a unit in a fight, but you can at least help with reloading the ammo!"

He was right. There was no time to worry about Rosa and the others.

There was no time to worry.

No time to worry.

Worry...

Once again he began to remember his dead comrades. Lee, with his brains littering the floor. Ari, lying facedown and unresponsive in a pool of spreading blood...

Move, Jackie. Move!

He forced himself out of it and ran downstairs to the gunroom. Doing something was better than nothing.

As he practically flew down the stairs, he felt something. Someone's Ley, belonging to a source far from the ship.

That's right, he could sense Ley now. He was no expert, but he was stronger.

I'm going to change.

I will save my crewmates. This time, for sure.

He turned and ran into the corridor of the eighth deck, and headed for the gunroom. At the end of the corridor was an iron door, now opened and inviting him in.

A couple of crew members ran outside, carrying wooden crates filled with cannon balls, each containing about ten.

As he stepped into the room, he crashed right into the stomach of a tall man inside, and fell back.

Partly stunned and disoriented, he looked up to meet the eyes of James, one of the blacksmiths aboard the Ivory. He was a tall man with a fairly thick beard covering his jaw. The black hair on his head was hidden under a long length of white cloth wrapped over his head like a turban, and he had a large stomach hidden behind a red vest. At his waist was a massive brown belt, where a large iron hammer was strapped to its side.

"Hey, kid! You good?" He asked, genuinely concerned. "I'd help you up, but as you can see, I've got my hands full."

He was right. With two crates on each shoulder, his hands were definitely tied.

"I'm fine. I'm just here to help out!" Jackie replied, and moved past James to grab the last remaining crate.

THUNK. THUNK. THUNK.

One by one, he dropped the cannonballs into it until the tenth one.

Unexpectedly, he found the crate to be rather light.

Looks like Whitebeard's training has been paying off.

"You don't need any help? I can dock one more up here." James offered, and he shook his head.

"No, this is fine. Let's get this to the top deck then!" With that, the two men ran out of the storage room and headed for the stairs.

Jackie was surprised when the man began talking on their way up. "I've been meaning to have a conversation with you, kid. But I guess that's gonna have to wait for now, eh?"

Despite the situation, he found himself grinning. "Look, I'll hear whatever you have to say if we're all alive after this. It looks like we're outnumbered."

At this, James laughed.

"Nobody's outnumbered when they've got an Ascendant onboard. Old Whitebeard is gonna do what he does best." He said, practically oozing confidence.

Oh yeah, Whitebeard's gonna fight, isn't he? I've never seen him go all out before.

On the last flight, the two heard what could only be a muffled explosion.

"Are we hit?!" James said to himself.

The two hurried up, and quickly scanned the ship as they cautiously climbed out. There was no smoke or fire, meaning whoever fired had either missed or let loose a warning shot.

A couple of gunners ran up to them and took the crates quickly. "Wish us luck." The youngest one, who appeared to be a teenager, said.

Jackie grabbed his arm. "This your first battle?" He asked, and the boy nodded excitedly, long black hair bouncing against his shoulders as he did so.

Another kid, forced into piracy too quickly. He thought, remembering the twins.

He smiled and gave him an encouraging pat on the back. "What's your name?"

"Cal!"

"Alright, Cal. Don't die out there. If you feel like you've got to run, then run. Got it?"

"Yeah. Thanks!" He ran off back to the raised quarter deck.

BANG. BANG.

Another round of cannonfire, this time landing in the sea just a few meters from the Ivory's hull.

The warning shots were getting awfully close.

James, however, knew better. He looked upwards and saw what he has expected to see: Old Man Jack in the crow's nest on the main mast.

He's diverting the cannonfire for now. This can't last forever, where's the Captain?

"Turn the ship to port! The other two will follow! We're going to take the fleet head on." He heard Leonardo instructing Jules. That was good. At least the vice-captain was doing his duty.

Who knows, the Captain might be intentionally delaying to see how he doe-

"EDISOOOON!"

The roar shook the ship, rattled the floorboards, and even cracked some windows. Those with a lower affinity with Ley on the top deck suffered bleeding from the ears and nose. Some of the women and sick men on the lower decks simply fainted on the spot, as did Leo and Valeria, who were fortunately besides their mother when they collapsed.

Boudicca managed to catch them as they stumbled, and carried both in her arms to the recovery ward.

Not that she herself was unaffected. Her temples were throbbing, and a sharp ringing in her ears made her head spin.

What in the world is happening?

As if in response to the call, the Captain of the ship finally stepped onto the top deck. His face slowly rose from the shadows of the lower deck, revealing a livid expression.

"Captain!"

"He's here. About time!"

"Show the fucker who's boss, Cap!"

Everyone was cheering, laughing. Jackie couldn't believe it. The sudden burst of hope and relief was amazingly infectious.

Leonardo remained as gloomy and serious as ever. "We're turning to face them, Captain. There's no choice." He said as he moved behind Whitebeard.

The two men looked forward as the ship steadily came to a halt, the bow aimed right at the gargantuan ship in the middle of the fleet.

Their fleet had spread out in a formation that looked like a massive C, completely surrounding the three ships in front of them.

Going straight through isn't an option. Which means we're gonna need to dissipate that fleet first.

"Leonardo. I'm leaving things here to you and the others. Caine and Cotton will know what to do. You just focus on protecting the Ivory before anything else." He said, and headed for the bow of the ship.

With sword in gloved hand, his long gray coat swirling in the wing behind him. His boots made metallic clicks as he walked onwards alone, armed by only that thin steel blade.

Halfway across, he stopped and smiled.

"Hey, everyone!" At his words, the entire ship seemed to come to a hault. Not a syllable was uttered. Nearly a complete pin-drop silence ushered by his request.

With a confident swagger, he raised his hand with the sword to the darkening skies.

"Nobody is going to die. Not as long as the Second Ascendant still lives!"

The entire ship rumbled once more, this time by the cheers and encouraged voices of his fellows.

Jackie watched on in awe.

"Hey." Leonardo nudged him with his elbow. "Surprised?"

He nodded.

Leonardo looked on at Whitebeard with Jackie. He was just as dazzling and nauseatingly inspiring...as he always was.

The two watched as he grabbed one of the large wooden planks twice his width lying on the ground and stepped on the bow.

Before him was a grisly backdrop, an impossible task.

He's gotta be insane! Is he about to take on that fleet alone?! Jackie had once witnessed Morgan manage some ridiculous feats, but this one was beyond absurd.

"Even in the face of impossible odds...that man can still smile." Leonardo murmured as he withdrew his sword. The blade flashed one last glint of the waning sunlight as it was called for battle.

"You know, Jackie...war and blood isn't something someone smiles through. Nobody does. But him...he can. Because he's out of his mind." He laughed at this, as if mocking Whitebeard.

"But that's why he's an Ascendant. If you want to become great, Jackie...watch."

Watch. He will be our saviour.