– Hewitt –
When Hewitt had first found out that Aisa didn’t just have her haki unlocked but was by all accounts a monstrous prodigy in the art, his first reaction had been disbelief. What else was he to think if someone told him that an eight, going on nine-years-old child had greater mastery than anybody else on the crew, over an esoteric ability that granted one a minor form of precognition? That this literal child outmatched a god, who had decades of experience and a specialized devil fruit boosting his abilities, at his own game on pure natural-born talent alone? Calling it disbelief would have been an understatement.
But as he was wont to do, disbelief had soon given way to another feeling entirely. An uglier emotion called envy. Hewitt had never denied being an intensely envious person. He’d been envious of Sarquiss, of Lily, of Ross…heck, he’d lost many a night’s sleep over the blacksmith’s apprentice from his home town who had dated Hewitt’s first crush. And that envy had fueled Hewitt, driving him to greater efforts to overtake them.
Exceptions had been those inviduals, whom Hewitt could acknowledge as persons of a different breed, those who were so far out of reach that envy had stood no chance before the feeling of awe. Bellamy had been the first he’d acknowledged in his entire life. Sanji the second. Purely based on this metric, Aisa should have been the third.
As it was, emotions were rarely rational things and his pride had struggled to come to terms with his new reality, that a child had overtaken him as soon as she’d snuck aboard. That years of training had meant nothing in the face of raw talent. And to add insult to injury, Aisa had eaten the most powerful devil fruit they’d ever come across, one which had elevated Enel to godhood.
Finally, envy had turned into shame.
If one took a closer look at envy, it was an emotion rooted in pride. Something based around the idea that Hewitt was no worse than anybody else and hence should at least be their equal or their superior. That no one deserved to be faster than him, stronger than him or be gifted greater opportunities than him. Purely because Hewitt was an individual destined for greater things.
What did it say about him, if the “great” Hewitt felt inadequate next to a child less than a third his age? His peers were one thing. But how could he have any pride in himself, if he was envious of a child like Aisa? It was shameful, to say the least.
So, he’d put in a titanic effort to push those feelings aside and welcome Aisa into the crew. It hadn’t even been that difficult once you got to know the little munchkin as the adorable terror she was and before he knew it, she had wormed her way into his heart before he could shore up his defences. Which meant in turn, that when she collapsed without any prior warning, Hewitt was understandably concerned.
“Muret, what’s wrong with Aisa?” But despite addressing their doctor, Hewitt’s eyes didn't leave their dial mechanic, as she cradled a shivering Aisa to her bosom. A blanket, hurriedly brought by Funkfreed, had done little to alleviate her condition.
“I don’t know. Haki related symptoms weren’t part of my training!” Muret snapped back, seemingly at wits end on what to do. It was at times like these that Hewitt was happy he was just the cook and not the doctor. The things he needed to concern himself with tended not to get sick.
“It’s slimy. And dark. And it’s cold. So cold.” As the minutes passed, Aisa just kept repeating these words and similar variations over and over. Which was odd, because even after tiring herself out to help Bellamy, Aisa had looked relatively bright and chipper, if somewhat exhausted. Then, out of the blue, Aisa had started muttering about something vile coming this way. Then the shivers had started and now…now the girl was out of it to say the least. But what sort of horror could send Aisa into this sort of state, when the brutality of a full-fledged battle could not?
Hewitt wasn't so sure he wanted to know.
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– Bellamy –
Oh, bloody hell! Why now of all times? I could feel the temperature rapidly rising and when I looked to the side, lo and behold, Ace was on fire. I didn't have to be a mind reader to know what was going through his head right now and I didn't like it one little bit.
“Hey, Ace! Whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t do it!” However, I did my best to keep my voice steady, trying to avoid setting off the trembling, ticking time bomb. Anyone who knew Ace also knew that Ace had a hair-trigger and his time in captivity was hardly going to have improved his temperament. Now, where were my cuffs? “You have to think this through carefully.”
“…”
“You know that your Pops wouldn’t want you to do this. Are you really going to disregard his wishes?” Slowly, I inched my way towards the young pirate, one hand held up in a conciliatory gesture. The other, holding the pair of seastone cuffs behind my back.
“-ch…”
“Hundreds, thousands of your friends came all the way here, solely to rescue you.” I wasn't sure if anything I was saying was even registering with the guy. His whole body was tense, every muscle seemingly clenched as hard as humanly possible.
“-each…”
“Please, don’t let their effort and their sacrifice be in vain. Retreat for now, regroup and recover. You won’t be able to fight him properly, exhausted as you are now.” Head bowed, his hair shadowing his face, Ace was currently the very picture of the classical anime hothead about to blow his top. He was literally vibrating in place.
“Teach…”
“You’ll have a much better chance to kill him after you’ve had a good night’s sleep. Both you and all your friends. Seriously, don’t do this.” If mentioning the sacrifices and sense of gratitude he should have didn't calm him down, I hoped that cold realism and the idea of increasing the probability of killing Blackbeard would. It didn’t.
“TEACH!!!!”
Hot air blasted my face as I was left staring at the scorched deck, a trail of smoke arching through the air after Ace went flying off the handle. Right towards where Whitebeard was locked in a three-way standoff.
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“You’re the only one I refuse to call my son, Teach!” Whitebeard snarled, angrier than he’d ever been this entire war. “You broke the one and only iron rule on my ship and killed your crew mate! I will avenge the fourth division commander Thatch by taking your life and thereby ending the matter here!”
“Zehahaha! I’m looking forward to it!” Blackbeard certainly was enthusiastic. And why wouldn’t he be? He had the fruit he wanted. He had the crew he wanted. And he had the world’s greatest stage for his debut.
“What is that black stuff coming out of his body?” Some generic marine asked his comrades, none of which had an answer ready. Blackbeard paid them no mind, for there was no danger to come from that direction. Nor any other, really. Whitebeard was old and frail, his vaunted devil fruit useless against Blackbeard’s own. Sengoku was maimed, Garp was an old relic, the Admirals were not looking great.
“Black hole! This is the power of the devil fruit I stole from Thatch by killing him! The most dominant Yami Yami no Mi. Enjoy it to the fullest extent!” Which was probably why the man felt comfortable taunting the strongest man alive. “Hey Pops. Did you know, Thatch died searching for you in his last moments! I looked up to you and longed to be like you, but you got old. Too old to protect your man.”
And for a while, it looked like Blackbeard was right, even getting a few punches in, prompting several pirates to rush back towards their father.
“Oh, no no. It’s no use! There’s no devil fruit power that works against me! Vortex!" he declared, holding out a hand in Whitebeard's direction like Darth Vader would have done. "Do you like my darkness, Pops? It drags in and nullifies even the powers of devil fruits! Which means you can’t create earthquakes anymore!”
Of course, that only worked until Whitebeard got used to the new danger and adapted accordingly. If trying to cause a human earthquake in the traitor’s face did not work, all he had to do was hit him with something else. And coincidentally, Whitebeard had a very large and very sharp instrument with which to do it with.
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“Ouch, damn it hurts!” The cut was long and deep, stretching from Blackbeard's left shoulder all the way to his right hip, but it was not fatal, layers of fat protecting the vital organs. Nonetheless, the pain, multiplied several times by the effects of the Yami Yami no Mi, was momentarily debilitating and that opening was not something a veteran like Whitebeard could possibly miss.
“Arrogance, thoughtlessness…those are your weaknesses!” Heavy boots pinned one arm to the ground, the bisento the other as both of Whitebeard’s hands came down on either side of Teach’s head and began glowing white.
“Hey, don’t! Pops, don’t! I’m your son! How can you kill me?” Blackbeard cried out, trying and failing to get loose. Whitebeard's answer was a quake, delivering a far more corporal message than words could ever do. And that was the signal for the Blackbeard pirates to join the fight, the collection of newly escaped prison inmates charging with weapons drawn and guns blazing. But none of those bullets reached their target, evaporated by a sudden inferno standing in their way.
“You will not touch my father!” Ah, dammit Ace! Of course, where Ace went the human volcano followed, turning what had been a duel only moments earlier into a two-vs-many situation. Furthermore, Ace was not really in any state to keep fighting enemies on the level of Blackbeard’s new crew, and it showed. Near immediately after his fiery entrance, Ace was on his back foot, trying desperately to ward off Vasco while not having his head taken off by Akainu, prompting the other pirates, many of whom had already retreated a safe distance to turn around and go back. This of course motivated Aokiji to join in the fighting to support his fellow marine.
Then things escalated further when Blackbeard decided two marines weren’t enough.
“Oi, Fleet Admiral! Are you just going to stand there while your target is within reach!” But thankfully for the pirates, that seemed to be exactly what Sengoku was planning on doing as his enemies decided to kill each other. Garp decided otherwise, jumping into the fray to start breaking Avalo Pizarro into little pieces. Much to Sengoku’s vocal surprise.
“Garp, what are you doing!”
“Arresting a criminal who broke out of Impel Down!” he replied, which was a perfectly viable answer in my opinion. Much like the situation with Luffy earlier, Garp’s love for his surrogate grandson moved him to seek a way that aided Ace while not compromising his duty as a marine. And when he found that way, he pounced with everything he had.
“You damn monster! You useless old man! Just die already!” Blackbeard screeched. Still, this had to be an objectively worse situation than the one I had gotten Ace out of earlier. For one, Luffy wasn’t even around to knock some sense into Ace again, as apparently satisfied that Ace was now safe, he had fallen unconscious the moment we boarded the ship. “Kill him, guys! Shoot him! Riddle him with bullets!”
“I’m not going to let you, yoi!”
Now what was I supposed to do now? There was no way I was going back in there. I was running on fumes, the fight against Doflamingo and the subsequent dash towards the ships having drained my reserves completely.
What the fuck, fate?
Then the ‘Colossal Battleship’ began moving, shyly flattening marines with every step. “I’ll help you, captain!”
An act which Sengoku heavily objected to, rising to his full golden height to slam a palm into Sanjuan’s chin. Next, in a display of fairness, he backhanded Jozu & Blenheim across the battlefield towards our ships.
Though even with all of this, things didn't look too bad, at least not until the battle froze as I bore witness to the first and possibly greatest side effect of Byron’s ability. While his music could help his target draw upon far greater reserves of strength than they normally could, they were just that…reserves. And once they were used up, they were no longer available to maintain basic bodily functions. Something which was even more pronounced in the elderly who had less reserves to fall back upon.
Whitebeard stopped mid-swing, his quake fizzling out, a hacking dry cough wracking his entire body. And when Caterina Devon slipped a spear between his ribs, the cough turned bloody.
“Pops!”
“Now’s our chance! Kill him!”
“For absolute justice!”
Desperate, the commanders tried to save their father by interposing their very bodies between their captain and the incoming attacks, determined to shield him with their lives. But all of them were brushed aside as ice, magma and steel pierce Whitebeard’s torso, every pirate staring in horror and disbelief at Whitebeard’s own arms, which had pushed them out of harm’s way. Arms which came crashing back together in a resounding clap around Shiryu’s head, blowing Whitebeard’s attackers away and reducing the head to red paste, payback for the sword lodged in Whitebeard’s chest.
“Pops…why?”
“No father…ever hides behind his children.”
“Pops!”
“My sons, was I a good father?” Whitebeard’s voice was calm, showing no trace of the pain and exhaustion he had to be feeling. It was the voice of a father wishing his sons goodnight, telling them that there were no monsters under their beds. A comforting voice, which for that very reason triggered a fresh flood of tears.
“You are the best father we could have ever wished for!” The unanimous cry brought a smile to Whitebeard’s face, a genuine, gentle smile.
“Then I am happy. Now, my disobedient sons, go!” And in a sudden flurry, ten grown men were flung away like footballs, away from the battle and away from danger. The last of which was Ace. “Goodbye, my son. Be happy.”
“POOOOooops….”
Dozens of new holes were opened up in Whitebeard’s body, as criminals and marines alike rushed to take advantage of the situation, something which Whitebeard didn't stop, choosing instead to hurl his bisento at Akainu and preventing him from pursuing his children like a bloodhound. Kind of difficult to do so if one was nailed to a wall by a haki-infused polearm.
Dust and smoke obscured the battlefield, only the muzzle-flashes denoting the heavy intensity of fire raining down on the legendary captain, Blackbeard screaming for ever greater rates of fire. Until with a final click, the bullets ran out.
“Damn, I’m out of bullets. Someone hand me a new gun.”
“You don’t need to. Whitebeard is either unconscious or more likely, dead.” Caterina Devon said, letting out a huff. “He’ll topple over if you as much as touch him with a finger.”
But while the Blackbeard pirates debated amongst themselves about Whitebeard’s current state, the man himself was probably reminiscing on times long passed, recalling the final moments of a friendly rival and making his peace with the world. Of course, just because he made his peace with it, didn't mean he wasn't going to set its hearts ablaze with passion one last time. And it all began with a declaration.
“It’s not you!”
“You’re still alive?” Blackbeard cried out in terror, as the giant of an era took a lumbering step towards his son’s murderer, the same step that said murderer stepped back.
“The man that Roger is waiting for…is not you, Teach! Like there are people who will inherit Roger’s will, some people will inherit mine sometime in the future. Even if you extinguish their blood bond, you will never be able to extinguish their flame! That’s how it came down unbroken throughout the ages! And someday in the future, carrying hundreds of years of history on his shoulders, someone will fling down the gauntlet in front of the world!”
Realization dawned behind Sengoku’s eyes along with the horror of knowing there was nothing he could do to stop what was about to happen. No way to cut the feed, still diligently being broadcasted by Buggy’s entourage. The world was about to witness something far more damaging than merely the cooperation between the marines and non-government-sanctioned pirates.
“I’ve no interest in it, but when someone finds the treasure, the world will turn upside down! And I’m sure somebody will find it! And that day will come!” And with the whole world watching, Whitebeard lit the flame. “THE ONE PIECE…IS REAL!”
“You bastard!”
“Zehahaha, what great last words!” But despite his laughter, Blackbeard dared not approach the standing figure, wary of another revival. Yet, his wariness was for naught, as after upending the world on its head, much like Gold Roger had done two decades earlier, Whitebeard fell silent.
Still standing strong and proud, a bulwark between his sons and those who would dare to bring them harm.
A father to the end.