BOOM.
BANG.
CRAAASH.
The situation was grim for the three strongest fighters on the White Rock. Lyza swung her fist once again, barely missing the head of the axe-wielder, Gerard Sternenmann. The hit crushed the floorboards underneath like butter, and she raised her arm again to block Allen's smoke-fist. "What's the matter? You've all slowed down all of a sudden!" She taunted, pushing him back with raw strength.
Allen skid back, and dashed to the side to avoid another punch from the Captain. "GERARD!" He yelled, and saw his axe flying towards him in response. He raised his hand and caught it, before swinging it down with all his might on Lyza's armour. The metallic clank that reverberated through the air was not simple the sound of the axe being deflected; it actually left a fairly large dent in the back of the armour. Lyza whipped her arm around, batting Allen to the side. As he hopped backwards to get away, he launched the axe back towards Gerard, who caught it and brought it down on Lyza's helmet. It only left a tiny scratch, which seemed quite worthless as he felt her gauntlet slam into his waist.
"Huh?" He murmured, looking around. He was now several meters above the enemy, sitting on top of the second mast's lowermost sheet. "You can thank me later. I saved your life." He knew Keya's voice when he heard it. She was sitting on the pole with him, though a fair bit away. Well, she never did like me.
"The key to winning this fight is definitely Allen. His Advanced Ley far surpasses ours...but you need to be quick. You know why as well as I do." She said, her manner of speech surprisingly more coherent than usual. Keya's actual combat ability was next to none thanks to her missing arms, and her Sensory Ley was best used as a supporting power. There wouldn't be much help coming from her, but...
Gerard glanced at Lyza's boy, who was watching the fight closely with his remaining hand tightly gripping his pistol. "Keya. I hate to ask you this, but can you take care of that kid down there?" He asked. There was still a chance he might interfere, and there was no way he wanted to take any chances. She nodded, but her eyes betrayed how she truly felt.
"Prey shouldn't die so young."
With that, the two disappeared from the mast.
Gerard leaped straight for Lyza, aiming to strike her on the top of the helmet once more. THUMP. The sound of his ribs creaking in his torso rattled through his body as her arm slammed into him. She's getting faster? He thought as he extended his arm forward and dug his axe into the floorboard below. It was ridiculous, but she was slowly getting used to all their moves, especially since she had donned that armour.
Well, Keya was definitely right. We need to get faster.
He concentrated his Ley on his legs and sprinted around Lyza. "CATCH!" He shouted, throwing his axe over her. It wouldn't matter that the axe was well above the reach of Allen's hands. His greatest weapon...
...was his versatility, after all.
He saw a wisp of smoke reach for the axe and stop it mid air, a few feet above the fighting Allen and Lyza. His opponent didn't notice, and fatally so. Allen swung a fist at her once more and she blocked, barely recoiling from the contact. "Weak." She muttered to herself.
He kept pushing, trying to keep her at bay. "Weak? Is that really what you think I am?" He grunted, desperately trying to find even a single precious second to bring down the axe with enough force to shatter her helmet. As he felt her begin to start forcing him back, Gerard swooped in from the side and slammed his remaining axe against her face. "Madame, I bet you missed me!"
As the two locked themselves around Lyza to try and restrain her movement, Cassian found himself running from the armless woman who took his hand off. She didn't run after him, only stood back and watched as he ran. "Don't run, boy. You can't run from me. Nobody in the world can." Her voice echoed in his head, only making him panic harder. But no matter how fast he tried to run, he somehow couldn't get away from her. She was always there, always standing behind him, and the bow of the ship only kept going farther and farther away, even though he was running towards it.
"WHAT IS THIS? WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?" He screamed, positively losing his mind now. Or maybe he had already lost it.
He closed his eyes tightly and opened them, only to find the woman standing in front of him with the knife in her mouth. "Sensory Ley. I can heighten the senses of my enemies to the extent where their minds begin to lose understanding of what's real and what isn't. I can make you drink poison and your taste buds will identify it as fresh, sweet honey. I can make you stop where you are, yet your legs will believe they are still moving as fast as possible. I can make your dreams come to reality right before your eyes...even if your eyes have been gouged out much earlier." Her dreamy voice had dropped to a whisper.
Cassian was surprised he had managed to hear and absorb every syllable of this, considering the fact that he was screaming his head off. "Oh? Do you think you're screaming, child? Or are you standing in front of me with your mouth open and your guard down?" She asked, and slowly turned her head to push the tip of her knife gently against his forehead. It pierced just enough into the skin to draw blood. For a second, there was a thin line of blood running down his face and between his eyes...and then there was nothing. No blood, no cut.
She felt the very same injury she had given the boy transfer to her own forehead, and frowned. This was an outstanding ability, but it did not belong to the boy. Unless he was a Blessed Child, and she could tell he wasn't from his actions alone, there was absolutely no way a power like this could be mastered to this extent by a mere ordinary boy.
This is the work of a Charm. But what in the world had been sacrificed to give him such defensive power?
She stared at the motionless, helpless face of the boy. "This is why I dislike hunting down prey like you. Prey who can't defend themselves should be left to live until they can defend themselves one day."
As if on cue, a steel spike suddenly shot out from the floor, just grazing the side of her face as she dodged. The orbs! Another one rose just an inch from her skull. She could only use her Ley on one person at a time, and had failed to pay attention to Lyza's sly moves. Even as she fought two of the strongest at the same time, still she had the ease of mind to plan and figure out a way to protect her son.
We need to kill her first. But that was easier said than done. Even as Allen and Gerard smoothly ran past each other, swapping axes with fluidity unrivalled by most in the Whitebeard fleet, they were still merely denting the armour of the far more durable Lyza. Her punches had about the same force behind them as a cannon, and crushed through wood and even Allen's smoke at times as though the hardened material was nothing more than a wall of sticks.
Slightly concerned now, Keya focused her Ley on Lyza, leaving the trembling boy on his knees. Lyza turned and shoved her elbow back, certain she was about to crush the ribcage of the troublesome smoker-
"What's the matter?" Allen asked from in front of her. "You just elbowed a barrel." She had indeed, and now she was flying, soaring through the air and towards the edge of the ship thanks to Allen's punch.
The punch did not come without a cost, however. Allen could feel his elbow and wrist throbbing in pain as he ran towards the stunned woman. His small body only allowed him to control a limited amount of smoke, and exceeding his physical limits always took a serious toll on his muscles and bones.
He focused smoke to his hands once more and rattled them into the struggling Lyza, attempting to push her right off the deck and into the sea. It probably wouldn't kill her, but she'd have to remove the steel from herself completely if she wanted to stay afloat in the roaring waves below.
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"Gerard, help me out here!" He cried, and Gerard appeared to help as he always did without fail. His axe sailed down onto Lyza's helmet, and rattled back up. "Now then, Madame Lyza...let us see how many hits your armour can take!"
Keya felt a sense of relief as she watched him slam his axe to meet her helmet again. Through sheer strength, Lyza still stood...but it wouldn't be long before she would slide right off or get her head split in two. "AAAAAARGH!" The boy's scream startled her, and threw her off-guard. It wasn't fear in his voice this time. It was madness. Something she had never assumed the boy had.
He leaped onto her shoulders and shot her through the head. The blood splattered onto his face, with his bulging eyes rolling in their sockets as he looked up at the fight between his mother and the two enemies.
"Wrong." Keya said from behind him, and stabbed the boy.
But her knife was just a bit too high. Instead of slicing off his forearm, it sank deep into his shoulder. And unfortunately for her, she still very much had her shoulders in place.
The blood that rushed out from her shoulder was probably the least of her worries. The boy had run through the knife in an attempt to reach his mother, and was now making his way towards the ongoing battle. In the process, he had torn through the knife, sinking it so deep into his shoulder that it actually tore through the muscles and pierced his neck. That same damage had now been reflected back to Keya, who couldn't focus in time to prevent what happened next.
Lyza shrugged off the attacking Gerard, and produced a massive spike in an attempt to distance herself from Allen. Her helmet was visibly battered from the repeated blows, but she was still very much ready to fight back.
Allen glared at the woman. He still had one more trick up his sleeve, one that could finish this fight. One that would mean he wouldn't have to resort to desperate measures to win.
He took a long drag from from his cigar and puffed out another cloud of smoke. But this time, instead of expanding, it began to compress itself and thin out into the form of a semi transparent disk.
"Ringleader." He murmured as the disk hollowed out, leaving a ring-like circle spinning before him rapidly. The disk attached itself to his wrist with a thin smoke string, allowing Allen to guide it through the air.
"A little gift on behalf of the Caine Pirates, Lyza." The disk whirred and sliced through the spike, missing Lyza by a hair's length as she threw herself to the side. She knew she was in trouble the moment she hit the deck, and Allen knew victory was close at hand. Gerard, ever-present when others needed him, ever-dependable, loomed before the woman. "Say goodbye to your head, Madame." He said, and gathered every bit of Ley he had left into his hand as he brought down his axe for the killing blow.
THWACK.
Allen had experienced moments like that a few times before, moments where even a single second seemed to draw out for all of eternity. His Basic Ley sparked, and he could suddenly see everything. He stood there, unable to move thanks to the dangerously unpredictable disk attached to his wrist, watching as Gerard swung his axe.
He should have sensed the boy running at him from behind. He should have been able to stop in time. But he had poured all his concentration, all his strength, all his Ley, into that single swing.
Allen moved his eyes to what was behind the boy; an explosion of four spikes at once, preventing a heavily injured Keya from reaching him. A huge gash ran from her shoulder to the base of her neck, and two of the spikes had slashed through her left thigh and right foot, the latter of which was now missing the entirety of its front end.
Lyza. She knew the boy would come. She was waiting, trying to build an opportunity. All this time, she wasn't trying to win against us. She was buying time.
He watched as the boy leaped, eyebrows furrowed and teeth grinding against each other as he put everything into his legs and flew, right for Gerard.
No. Not right for.
Right past Gerard. And towards the axe that he was swinging for the helmet of Lyza.
That axe never reached its destination.
Instead, it sank deep into the skull of Cassian, the boy with the ability to deflect all attacks he took to the one who dealt them.
Gerard knew he had messed up before the axe hit, but even then he refused to accept his fate. Even then, he tried to soften the blow, one of the strongest he had ever tried to land. And indeed, he did feel it soften...but it wasn't enough. It wouldn't be.
The hit was fatal. The axe split the top of his head horizontally, causing blood to immediately begin gushing from the wound.
He looked at the blood on the boy's head, and closed his eyes. Looks like this is the end of the great Gerard Sternenmann.
He remembered the first time he had met the boy, Allen. He was a silent one, one of those kids who preferred to sit around and gloom a lot. He didn't know what the hell could have happened to make a kid that silent, and frankly, he didn't want to know.
I bet he was lonely.
The rascal who smoked. That was how everyone knew him. A kid no older than twelve, who went around stealing cigars even though he got scolded constantly for it. But that wasn't the only thing he was known for. He was half blind, and always kept bumping into people. Once, Gerard himself had to save him from falling off the deck during a nasty storm.
He did have glasses. They lacked any lenses and were a little big, but something was better than nothing when you were sailing. His refusal to wear any other pair to fix his damn eyes had led to the usually lazy Maxwell Caine to go through the pain in the ass process of crafting a pair specifically for that frame.
And even then, he didn't wear it. For god knows what reason.
He remembered asking him why he didn't just wear the glasses. They were fixed, after all. Unless he wanted to go for more dives in the sea, he joked.
"Don't wanna." He said, looking away. His face was so chubby and round back then, and so unfitting for a kid who smoked whenever he could. Why not, Gerard asked. After all, his glasses had been fixed. He could see now.
"I'll earn those glasses one day." He had replied, just some twelve-year old kid with messy brown hair and crappy eyesight. To hear this kid say a line like that made him chuckle.
But that was all that was said about his glasses. He still annoyed the kid, he still tried to get him to talk to girls and get popular. And now, would you know it, he was indeed quite popular. He was getting handsome now, and he had a lady friend of the like.
He had pestered the boy enough. He wasn't lonely anymore. He had friends on this ship. He had a girl he loved. He had a man to look up to in Captain Caine, who he almost seemed to resent once.
I guess I knew it a long time ago, but I didn't want to accept it. He walked past me and went on ahead years ago.
The image of that little kid, sitting with his knees pulled tightly to his face as he sulked in a corner of the galley, had never disappeared from his mind. But now, that image faded away. And what was left?
An older boy, by no means a man...but a boy who now stood on his own two feet. A boy with a phenomenal Primis that had surpassed him long ago.
That's right, Allen. You don't need me anymore.
There was something else, one last thing he would regret.
It was a conversation. One he had with Michael Caine a long, long time ago, when he had first joined the crew.
His infamous afro didn't exist then. His hair was curly, but short and untidy. Back then, he was no star...quite the opposite, in fact.
"You want to kill yourself?" Caine asked. He couldn't remember exactly where they had spoken, but it was probably the lab.
He nodded. "If that's what you want, I have no objections. But I want you to wait."
To wait? But why? What was there that was so important that he had to wait before tying the knot? "Nobody has ever killed themselves aboard my ship before. This place is filled with a merry bunch, all of which are looking for purpose in life themselves. I want you to wait and let them speak to you."
"And maybe, you can find something worth living for."
In the end, he hadn't found that reason. He didn't find it, but something told him to keep waiting, to try to find whatever it was his Captain wanted him to. The days turned to weeks, the weeks turned to months, and the months turned to years...until the day that boy came along in an oversized, patched up grey coat, covered in wounds and a long slash running across his back.
That boy had given him something to live for without his own realization. He had one day forgotten about his intentions to end everything, as if he subconsciously knew that he had to look after him.
And now, he removed his bloodstained hand and axe from the wounded Cassian's skull to turn his head and face Allen.
"Those glasses. They fit you just fine." He said, smiling as he said so.
He fell forward as a few drops of blood spilled from his head, and down his face. Allen watched, unaware that the disk he had been connected to had now faded back to smoke.
With no time to mourn, he turned around and punched through the steel that had wounded the surviving Keya, and swiftly carried her to the back of the ship.
She coughed as he laid her down gently. If there was anything she needed right now, it was a doctor. And he couldn't be that doctor she needed right now.
"Leave her with me." He spun around in shock, and saw Eddie standing over them. "Please. Trust me." His black bag, no doubt filled with tools, was by his side.
It wasn't as if he had any choice. "Allen...don't use it. Just buy time. Don't you dare." Keya whispered, and he chose to ignore her.
Sometimes, silence was best for everyone.
"Are you gonna run now, smoker?" Lyza asked, stepping up towards him with the boy once more on her shoulder. "If you're going to, I'll give you a chance. Run and find your Captain for me. He's the one I want to kill."
Allen refused to even consider this opportunity.
"Like hell I will. I'm not a coward. Nobody on this ship is." He clenched his fists and closed his eyes tightly, feeling the Ley around him pulse. The smoke from his cigar began to thicken, and rose to the sky above as his Ley began to expand.
Nobody else here would die. If nobody else, he would give his own life to protect them all.
Gerard...you were my friend to the end.
"Primis."