With a bizarre shimmer and crackle of energy, Kizaru appeared on the outskirts of the ancient city of Athens. His blinding yellow suit provided a stark contrast to the white columns of marble and the sun-baked clay of the roofs. A lazy smile crossed his handsome face as he took in his new surroundings.

"Ooh, Athens… not a bad place to start, ne?" he mused aloud, his voice carrying the same nonchalant drawl that had become his trademark. The city was alive and loud, unaware of the entrance this strange visitor had made.

What Kizaru had no knowledge of was in Mount Olympus, the Greek gods started to stir to life, intrigued by this peculiar newcomer.

In his golden throne, king of the gods Zeus leaned forward, electric blue eyes narrowed. "What manner of being is this?" he thundered, his voice shaking the very foundations of Olympus.

Athena, goddess of wisdom, stood at his right hand, her grey eyes calculating, her mind trying to unravel the enigma that was Kizaru. "He is unlike anything I have ever seen, father." Her mind raced in circles.

Back in Athens, Kizaru was walking around the agora. He passed the people, who stared at him as he went through his business.

He stopped at a fruit stall and plucked a ripe fig from the bunch before him. "Ooh, this looks delicious, ne?" he said to the wide-eyed merchant, who could only nod mutely in response.

As Kizaru chomped down, enjoying the taste, he wasn't aware that he had been brought to the attention of Heaven itself only predicting it. His mind raced with the prospects of what this means for this new world.

On Olympus, Ares, god of war, paced restlessly. "We should strike now!" he snarled, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Before this being becomes a threat."

The Goddess of Love and Beauty laughed melodiously. "Oh, always ready to violence, Ares." She cast a wicked glance downward at Kizaru. "Perhaps we should observe him first."

The sun began to wane over Athens, casting the sky in shades of gold and crimson as Kizaru found himself atop the Acropolis. Looking out over the city, a contented sigh escaped Kizaru's lips.

"Maa, maa, this world definitely does have potential, ne?" he murmured to himself, oblivious to the divine machinations already in motion.

Nightfall found Kizaru's form bathed in the soft glow of his powers; he was wholly unconcerned with the knowledge that every last one of his actions had been observed, dissected, and deliberated over by the pantheon of Greek gods.

Kizaru stepped out just as the marble columns of Athens received the first rays of sunlight. He almost found himself surrounded by a group of grim officials, and by the look on their narrowed gazes, all laden with suspicion, they looked over his striking yellow suit and the casual air of power that he seemed to exude.

"Ooh, what's this? A welcoming committee?" he drawled further, the lazy grin on his face almost mocking when contrasted with the tension in the air.

The chief official, a grizzled man with a face like weathered leather, stepped forward. "Stranger, your presence here is unsettling. Everything about you speaks of foreign lands and unknown powers."

Kizaru's raised eyebrows went up a bit further. "Maa, maa, is that so?" He chortled, and the sound went a long way toward sending at least a few shivers involuntarily down the spines of the Athenians. "Not to worry, not to worry. I'm just a sightseer. Ne?"

A silent glance was exchanged among the officials, an unease palpable. The leader cleared his throat when the lead official next spoke. "Words are wind, stranger. If you wish to walk freely in Athens, you should prove your trustworthiness."

Kizaru's grin broadened; there was a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. "Ooh, a test? How interesting." He stretched his arms above his head languidly, apparently not concerned at all. "What did you have in mind, ne?"

The eyes of the official narrowed even further. "The sacred olive tree of Athena on the Acropolis has been falling ill. Not a human touch has brought it back to life. If you can restore this tree to health, then we know the gods favor you."

The gears were turning in Kizaru's head as he slowly nodded his assent. "Let's go, then," he said to the officials, waving them on.

As the steps pounded up the Acropolis, whispers followed on their heels. They soon approached the sacred olive tree, its leaves withered and branches drooping. Kizaru went nearer it, his usual laid-back manner replaced with a look of determination.

"Ooh, this's really quite the challenge, ne?" he mused more to himself than to his audience. He raised a hand to the gnarled trunk of the tree and closed his eyes in concentration.

Not that the people on this platform knew it, but Kizaru drew deep upon that immense well of power. He brought the raw energy manipulation of his Goku-like powers together with the subtle influence of the Force. A golden light began to pulse from his hand, seeping into the tree.

There were gasps from the officials as withered leaves unfurled and turned a vibrant green. New branches sprouted where there were none. In just a few moments, the tree was colossal and whole, tall and healthy, as if a few centuries' worth of silent growth had been compressed into those few moments.

Kizaru took a step back, his idle grin returning. He turned towards the officials and crooned, "Maa, maa, is that really satisfactory?".

Up at the top of Mount Olympus, the gods looked on in petrified silence. Athena's eyes widened, her hand on her spear in a death grip. "This… this can't be true," she whispered.

Zeus leaned forward, his face screwed up. "It appears, dear daughter, that we have greatly underestimated this visitor."

Back at the Acropolis, the chief official dropped to his knees in front of Kizaru. "Forgive us, great one," he stammered. "We didn't know. Do you think yourself divine?"

Kizaru chuckled and waved his hand. "Ooh, no need for that. I'm just a visitor, like I said." His eyes glinted with humor. "Now, about that free passage through Athens."

Kizaru was escorted through the grand halls of the Athenian palace when the sun reached its highest point. The officials, though definitely quite awestruck by his performance at the Acropolis, advanced him into the room where the throne stood with a kind of mixture of reverence and trepidation. "Ooh, all this fuss for little old me?" Kizaru drawled, the smile languidly in place.

When the huge doors opened, they revealed a sumptuous chamber, rich with gold and marble. Upon a brilliant throne set in the center, sat King Theseus, hero of Athens and slayer of the Minotaur. When the king's eyes set upon the bold figure of Kizaru, they went wide.

"Your Majesty," began one official, his voice wavering. "This is Borsalino, a visitor of great power."

Kizaru eyed him with a lazy wave.

Theseus rose from his throne, his brow furred with a mix of curiosity and wariness. " Borsalino," he enunciated slowly, testing the name on his tongue, "I've heard chatters of your miraculous, ahem, deed at the Acropolis."

Kizaru shrugged, his nonchalance a stark contrast to the tension in the room. "Maa, maa, it was nothing special. Just a little tree hugging, ne?"

The king eyed him warily, accusing him of being a God.

Despite Kizaru's protests, Theseus was not convinced. Clapping his hands, all his servants went to their works. "We'll have a feast for you, Borsalino! Let all of Athens know you've come!"

The banquet of the palace had laughter, revelling, delight, and all went merry through the running wine and roasted meats and mellow fruits. Kizaru was stretched upon a couch of gold with many nobles and officials hedging for his attention.

"Tell us great Borsalino," one drunken nobleman mumbled. "From which Olympus do you reign?"

Kizaru lazily sipped his wine. "Haha, you're still pulling my leg? I've just told you I'm not a god." He gave a teasing grin. "I guess it means I'm still pretty cool, though."

As the feast went on, whispers ran through the party. Some suggested that this was possibly Apollo in disguise, while others hammered in serenely that he should be a new god altogether. Theseus looked on from his throne, the thoughts racing in his mind.

"What if he tells the truth, Your Majesty?" a trusted advisor asked in a whisper. "And he is not deity... but something else?"

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Theseus' brow creased at the thought but he made no movement of his eyes from Kizaru's relaxed pose. "Then, my friend, we may be in the presence of that which had surpassed the Gods of Olympus."

The night was growing and the dark was coming. Kizaru was standing and looking at the view of the city below him, flickering with the twinkles of oil lamp lights. With a lazy smile, he thought about what adventure was waiting although he whispered by himself, "Maa maa, this world is full of surprises ne?"

What he was unaware of, in the heights of Mount Olympus, was that the gods were in a great uproar: divine eyes riveted on this inquisitive visitor who so casually turned upside down their world.

In the luxurious chambers of his palace atop Mount Olympus, the hushed whispers of the gods turned into a frenzy of tensely heated arguments as the soft snores of Kizaru resonated across his room. Zeus, crackling with barely leashed lighting, his beard flowing in front of him, paced the gleaming marble floor back and forth.

"This.. Borsalino," he rumbled, his voice like distant thunder, "wields power beyond our comprehension. What are we to do?"

Athena's grey eyes snapped smartly in their calculations. "Father, we should approach this humbly. He has not lied to the mortals, and he has not tried to take away our authority."

Ares, always wanting conflict, growled, "I said it before, and I'll say it again, we should strike now before he becomes too strong!"

Hera was next, regal and composed, raising a hand for silence. "Let us not act too rashly. This Borsalino, as strange as he is, has not shown any ill intent. Perhaps we overreact."

Apollo agreed, his golden hair shimmering in the eternal light of Olympus. "Indeed, sister. I sense no malevolence from him. His power. It's different from ours, but not necessarily a threat."

Little did they know that their fears, though understandable, were wildly misplaced. For all his incredible panoply of abilities—his Goku-like manipulation of energy, his Force-like mental supremacy, his Luthor-level mind—he was but a drop in the ocean compared to the true might of just one Olympian.

Waking in the castle, Kizaru turned fitfully even in his sleep, that lazy smile apparently permanently stuck to his handsome features. He dreamed of his home world: Akainu's stern face and Aokiji's cool demeanor, the vast expanse of the Grand Line. "Maa, maa," he murmured in his sleep, "what a troublesome situation, ne?"

On Olympus, even wily Hermes could not help a chuckle: "You know," he sighed, twirling his caduceus, "for all our worry, has anyone actually tried to measure this Borsalino's power?"

The gods quieted, exchanging uneasy looks like nervous pigeons, and Dionysus, with cheeks flushed by endless wine, hiccupped, "Well, no, but did you see what he did to Athena's olive tree? That's got to count for something!"

Hephaestus spoke up, his gnarled hands stilling from their constant tinkering. "Perhaps. perhaps we're looking at this all wrong. What if he's not a threat, but an opportunity?"

Zeus, pondered, his brow finally untwisting when he out of great thought nodded for whatever he was thinking. "We shall watch and wait," he decreed. "This Borsalino has not acted against us or our realm. Until he does, we will not move against him."

The gods quickly dispersed, their fears somewhat allayed but their curiosity piqued. Kizaru, of course, went on to sleep again, for he was above and beyond such dramas among the gods. His happy dreams remained untroubled as a new visitor came soon to be with Kizaru.

Kizaru awoke with the first light of dawn, reluctantly tearing himself away from his dreams with every display of luxury that could be imagined draped in his palace chamber. His eyes, hidden behind the ubiquitous amber-tinted glasses, fluttered open to an unusual sight. Lo and behold, there sat a woman of ethereal beauty on the edge of his bed.

"Ooh? What's this now? A wake-up call, ne?" Kizaru drawled, his voice thick with sleep but still carrying that characteristic nonchalance.

The woman smiled—the gesture seemed to light up the whole room. "I am Aphrodite, your goddess of love and beauty," she purred—her voice was honey and silk. "I simply had to meet the mysterious visitor who has all of Olympus in such a tizzy."

Kizaru sat up, his yellow suit miraculously unwrinkled despite a night of sleep. He couldn't help feeling an arousing flutter upon recognition of the goddess's stunning face, such as no woman he had been with before. But a voice from his mind, doubtfully similar to Akainu's, told him to beware.

"Maa, maa, goddess, is it? Now is that going to be tiresome?" Kizaru replied, stretching a bit. "Gods, I certainly hope not to get changed into a tree by you or anything. That would be the most inconvenient, ne?"

Aphrodite chuckled—bell-like and merry. "You are amusing! So different from the haughty gods and fearful mortals I must deal with daily."

As they chattered away, the more Kizaru found himself drawn to the goddess. His apparent demeanor—relaxed, yet somehow on edge—and the way he spoke so oddly for a divine being seemed to intrigue Aphrodite, who for centuries had only been worshipped or feared with unadulterated respect.

"Tell me, Borsalino," she cooed, wrapping a wisp around his arm, "what kind of creature are you to hold such… allure."

Kizaru's smile was nigh terrifying—though the goddess felt thrilled, she could not resist chuckling. "Ooh, you flatter me. But I'm just a simple man with a few tricks up his sleeve, ne?"

Kizaru couldn't help it, despite his distrust and disbelief towards this state of affairs. Aphrodite was the embodiment of beauty itself, and being interested in him from the corner of her eye was a compliment. But, on the other hand, into his mind flashed ancient Greek mythology that he had heard about his world, of the divine scattering of children—the tales of liaison that hardly ever turned out beneficially for whosoever the mortal that corresponded to the gods chanced to be.

In short the Gods were most of the time evil to their mortals and he wanted no part of it.

"What you know," Kizaru drawled, with mischief in his voice. "Where I come from, we've got this saying: 'If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.' Ne?"

Aphrodite's eyes sparkled with amusement and something deeper. "And where exactly do you come from, mysterious Borsalino?"

The room was heavy with tension, a combination of attraction and danger, as they managed to carry on with their banter. Kizaru was walking a very fine line: his natural charm and easy-going nature drew Aphrodite in, but his intellect kept him from falling too deeply into her web.

"Maa, maa, it was a real pleasure, Aphrodite-san," said Kizaru at length, rising from the bed with liquid grace. "But I'm afraid I have a busy day ahead. Places to go, people to see— you understand."

Aphrodite pouted, something that would have brought lesser men to their knees. "You're not like the others, are you, Borsalino? You fascinate me."

Kizaru grinned, tipping an imaginary hat. "I get that a lot. Now, if you'll excuse me."

He left the chamber behind, leaving a confused, bemused goddess, who couldn't help but be drawn to him, and could not keep the chuckle from coming forth as he sauntered away. "Ooh, what a troublesome world this is," he murmured. "Akainu would have a fit if he could see me now, ne?"

The goddess of love had found a new obsession.

Kizaru strolled down the sun-dappled streets of Athens, a beacon of yellow in a sea of passersby until he came face to face with the hero-king of legend, Theseus.

The mortal's eyes widened as he craned his neck upward, suddenly realizing the true scale of the Admiral's imposing stature.

"By the gods," Theseus gasped, his voice a mixture of awe and reverence. "I… I hadn't noticed before... You're… you're enormous!"

Kizaru's eternal lazy smile widened a fraction. "Ooh? Am I? I paid it no mind, ne? Maybe you're just shrinking, Theseus-san."

Theseus was taken aback, but he composed himself very quickly. "Lord Kizaru, I have a proposition for you. I believe it's time we acknowledged your true nature."

"Maa, maa, what's this about now?" Kizaru drawled, his voice carrying that characteristic blend of amusement and disinterest.

"I wanna make you a governor," Theseus insisted, his voice perfect with the conviction of a man on a mission. "Surely, a being of your stature deserves to be in a position of power, in our fair city."

Kizaru's eyebrows rose over his tinted glasses. "A governor? Ooh, that sounds like a lot of work, ne? I'm more of… how do you say? a free spirit?"

Theseus, however, was not one to be easily dissuaded. "My lord, please. Your wisdom, your power. They're wasted without a proper authority. People need a guide, and who better than a god walking among them?"

"There you go again with that 'god' talk," chuckled Kizaru, scratching his head lazily. "I told you, I am just a simple man with a few tricks up these raggedy sleeves."

"But—"

"Maa, maa, if it'll make you happy, I suppose I could give it a try," Kizaru replied at last, more to put an end to the discussion than from any real inclination. "Just don't expect me to work overtime, ne?"

As Kizaru and Theseus made their deal final with a handshake that would surely have turned any other mortal's fingers to powder, neither of them noticed a pair of suspicious eyes from the shadows.

Since laying eyes on him that morning, Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty, had been following Kizaru's every bloody step. Her divine presence was proportional as it followed the admiral slowly through the city.

Everything he did—the most casual of gestures, the most drawling of words, and every flash of that absolutely infuriating grin—had goosebumps crawling on her immortal body.

"What is it about you, Borsalino?" she whispered to herself, her voice a mixture of frustration and disbelief. "Why can't I get you out of my mind?"

Unbeknownst to Aphrodite herself, she was not acting like the goddess of love but, rather, the goddess of desire. And she wasn't the only one who noted that. On high Mount Olympus, the god of war and her infrequent lover took notice and grew angrier by the second.

"Yellow-suit upstart." Ares growled as his hands closed over the arms of his throne, opening great rents in the leather as his fingers closed so tightly that ichor, the golden blood of the gods, began to seep through. "How dare he enchant Aphrodite? I'll show him the meaning of war soon enough."

The golden rays of the sun in Athens are reflected on the newly clothed Kizaru. The striking three-piece yellow suit is placed in a cedar chest for safekeeping. On its place is draped a flow of the purest white chiton with intricately worked out embroideries in golden thread over the tall frame of Kizaru. Resting on his head would be a golden laurel wreath to denote his newfound authority—governor.

"Maa, maa," Kizaru drawled, looking at his reflection in a shiny bronze mirror. "Isn't this really making a statement, ne? I mean, I feel like I'm supposed to be just splaying out on a cloud, eating grapes or something."

Despite such a lackadaisical attitude, Kizaru's mind showed in his ruling. The streets of Athens were abuzz with rumor regarding the new governor and his actually quite effective policies.

"Have you heard?" one whispered to the other. "The new governor put in a system of public works that's made it so unemployment is down by half."

"Then they say he found a way to solve the water shortage crisis by some kind of—a what does he call it?—'desalination' technique," another awed.

Kizaru overheard it as he strolled by and chuckled. "Ooh? Just a little trick I picked up in my travels… Nothing special, ne?"

Being very effective in his official duties, Kizaru spent a lot of time walking on the streets of Athens, with his mind drawing constant comparison with the world he left behind.

Passing by the bustling agora, he commented to Moe, "Maa, maa, this place is like old shopping districts back home. I don't see any Den Den Mushi shops around here, though. How troublesome."

He then spotted a group of little kids playing with a leather ball. "Ooh? No video games for you little ones, eh? I suppose some things never change, ne?"

"Akainu, old friend," he murmured to himself, a rare note of melancholy in his voice. "What would you make of all this? And Aokiji. I wonder if you'd find this place as 'cool' as your ice, ne?"