– Bellamy –

I had first met Robin on Jaya. Well, met was perhaps too strong a word. Let us say, I saw her for the first time at the party in Cricket's house, just sitting there with an enigmatic smile while she watched our crews inebriate themselves. We barely exchanged greetings at the time, Robin having no reason to approach the brooding pirate captain – who had a poor reputation to boot – and me being too busy brooding on how to survive the coming encounters with Enel.

Funny how the cause for the lack of conversation back then, ended up being the catalyst for us talking later, if for drastically different reasons. In a way, I had received my first real emotional support from her. It had been what had helped me pull myself out of the identity crisis I had been in after Enel's death, my past and my future pulling me apart, two different moral compasses in the same body.

Thinking back on it, that was probably when I began viewing her as something more than a character I had watched on my screen. For lack of a better word, she became my first friend on this world. Not Bellamy's friend. Mine.

And as friends were wont to do, we talked with each other, though by some unspoken agreement, we both stayed away from prying into each other's pasts. Then again, we didn't have to, when there were plenty of safer topics to explore. For example, literature.

"Hello Robin! What are you reading?"

"It's quite a fascinating read actually. Very well written with a fun plot. Here, I'll read a bit to you." Robin offered, before flipping to the beginning and reading a passage aloud with perfect diction. "But in the first place I must state that there never were four men in the dingey,--the number was three. Constans, who was 'seen by the captain to jump into the gig,' luckily for us and unluckily for himself did not reach us. He came down out of the tangle of ropes under the stays of the smashed bowsprit, some small rope caught his heel as he let go, and he hung for a moment head downward, and then fell and struck a block or spar floating in the water. We pulled towards him, but he never came up."

"…that sounds…dreary. What's the title again?" I preferred my reading material to be on the lighter side, but then again, this was only part of the first chapter. The phrase 'do not judge a book by its cover' existed for a reason.

"The island of Dr. Moreau by one Mr. Wells. It describes the experiences of a shipwrecked sailor on island inhabited by a doctor performing surgery to try and turn animals into humans…or so he says. More likely, he was carrying out human experiments to turn humans into half-animal hybrids." Robin explained before pausing, tapping her chin. "Perhaps, this is a theory as to the origin of the mink tribe?"

"I'm sorry, human experiments?" Never mind. It was exactly what I thought it was going to be.

"Yes. Live vivisections without anesthesia with the aim of rearranging and re-purposing body parts to grant the victims certain traits desired by the operator. All happening on a hidden island with no escape, in the midst of a jungle where no one can hear you scream." Robin answered, giving me a soft smile. "Wonderful story, isn't it?"

That night I dreamt of Dr. Hogback, cackling like a maniac while wielding a bloody scalpel. As if I needed any more reminders that the horror genre really wasn't my thing.

Not to say that Robin only read horror novels, she enjoyed the classics like Macbeth or Romeo & Juliet just as much if not more, though she did focus quite a bit on the aspect of fate. For example, was the fall of Macbeth truly inevitable?

"All I'm saying Robin, is that if the man hadn't decided to believe the prophecy, the prophecy wouldn't have come true. His fate, as you call it, is obviously a man-made disaster."

"But do you not think, that his believing the prophecy was already inevitable from the moment it was spoken, Bellamy?" Robin replied, slightly leaning her head against one palm. "If fate had decided it's whims would be heard, Macbeth would have had no choice."

"I don't think the playwright intended for the tragic villain to be a puppet." I deadpanned. Please, as if Shakespeare would write such two-dimensional characters.

"No, but would it have been so difficult for a cosmic power like fate to tailor the prophecy, such that it spoke to his inmost being? Humans do have the tendency to believe what they wish to believe, and fate told Macbeth what he needed to hear to do her bidding."

"But you have to remember, he only truly believed in the prophecy after his wife convinced him. He'd been on the fence before then and if he had simply kept his mouth shut, everything could have been avoided. In the end, his own choices led to his downfall, not something set in stone." I argued,

"So, you deny fate had a hand?"

"If fate was involved, it only provided the opportunity. Perhaps, one choice was more likely than the other when we consider his character, but by no means was that path inevitable." I said, crossing my arms defiantly. "There are only two inevitable fates I believe we are born with, Robin. Being forced to make a predetermined choice is not one of them."

"Now I'm curious. What fates does a denier of fate like you believe in? Perhaps, that we are all fated to die?" she guessed. "Perhaps in a painful and protracted manner before our bodies are hung from a rope as a warning to future generations?"

"That's one of them, though lets agree to disagree on the mode of death, shall we? I'm quite partial to exiting the stage in my sleep at a ripe old age." I dryly responded before looking her straight in the eyes. The next part was cheesier than a quattro formaggi pizza but it felt right. "The second fate I believe we all have, Robin, is to live. To struggle, to fight, to cry, to laugh…to live full lives with all their ups and downs."

"…" Robin didn't say anything to that, though her eyes did seem conflicted. I didn't pry. We lapsed into silence afterwards, lost in our thoughts until the cooks rang the dinner bell.

I still didn't believe in fate. I did believe that there was some being that was heavily nudging me in one direction, threatening me with dire consequences if I refused, but the choices had been mine. The same choices that had led me to where I was now, looking at my friend and my friend looking at me.

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– Aisa –

"Hi, I'm Aisa!" Aisa said, holding out a hand towards the blonde girl who nervously extended her own.

"Uhm…I'm Soran?"

"It's nice to meet you! Want to be friends?" No matter, Aisa could shake their hands vigorously enough for both of them. Nice and friendly, like Muret had told her to be. Umu, Aisa was a good student of etiq…etorquet…of manners. Aisa was a good student and good students got cookies.

"Yes, I'd love to be friends!"

Plus, friends were always nice. Aisa hadn't had any friends back home because Grandpa had been the chief and all the kids didn't really want to be friends. They smiled and were nice, but her mantra kept telling her that they were…off. Soran on the other hand, lit up like a pretty star, her aura proclaiming her joy for the whole world to hear.

Thus, having made her first friend (the Crew didn't count as they were more like aunts and uncles), Aisa excitedly engaged in something she could only forlornly watch the other children do before: small talk!

Soran turned out to be a great listener, making all sorts of impressed sounds as Aisa regaled her with totally accurate stories of her adventures. Let Bellamy and the flower lady talk about the adult stuff like garrison inspections and base layouts. Aisa was going to have fun with her new friend. Soran was especially eager to learn more about her home, having dreamt of seeing it someday and having even drawn a picture from her imagination. Sadly, that picture had been broken by a mean man, but Aisa could tell her all about it so that she could draw a better picture next time.

"You're really from Sky Island? That's so amazing!"

"Yep! Wanna see my wings?" Aisa preened, turning around to show them off, much to Soran's visible amazement.

"They're beautiful! May…may I touch them?"

"Sure! Just don't pull the feathers."

"I won't! I'll be careful." Soran promised, stroking the feathers almost reverently. "This feels nice. And it's much softer than my pillow."

Her captive audience drooled a bit when Aisa described Hewitt's sea king stew, oohed and aahed at the recounting of her fight against the pacifista on Sabaody and shrank into herself when Aisa gave her account of the Summit War, though her glinting eyes betrayed her interest. And with every tale told, Soran's delight and admiration of Aisa grew palpably, though with it also a deep sense of sadness. Aisa didn't like that.

"Why are you sad?"

"No, I'm not! I'm really happy!" her new friend denied, vigorously shaking her head.

"That too but you're also sad. Why?" Aisa insisted, looking for answers, but Soran avoided her eyes.

"Uhm…"

"Come one, we're friends! Maybe I can help." she pressed on, trying to encourage her friend to speak up. Finally, after a few moments, Soran turned her gaze up to look at Aisa's concerned eyes.

"You've had such an exciting life, Aisa-chan, and you'll keep having more adventures, right?"

"Yep. The best part is getting to try all the new food."

"Do you think that maybe I could go see…no, never mind." Soran trailed off, her eyes once more locked onto the floor.

"What? You mean if you can go see the world? Of course, you can!"

"But I can't leave! I'm not strong like you, Aisa-chan! How will I leave?"

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– Bellamy –

The padlock on the door was a heavy duty, clunky piece of metal, having sacrificed everything but the base functionality for added security. The fledgling neanderthal in me briefly considered crushing it in my fist, but my inner physicist soon decided against it. Why go for over the top displays of prowess like a modern age caveman, when I could use the key instead? It would serve no purpose and most importantly, when judging by our past interactions (most notably on Skypiea), Robin didn't seem like the sort of woman who'd be impressed by something like that.

Robin didn't resist when I quickly led her out of her cell, though the somewhat quizzical expression on her face refused to go away, almost as if she had just been presented with an intriguing puzzle.

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"Not that I'm not thankful, but how did you find me, Bellamy?"

"Had to call in a favor but the short of it is, Shanks owed me, so he referred me to the Revolutionaries who had been planning to hit Tequila Wolf already. When they told me you had been sighted here, I invited myself along." I summarized, shrugging my shoulders but that did little to answer her questions.

"The emperor Shanks owed you a favor?"

"…how much do you know about the events at Marineford?"

"Not very much, I'm afraid. Not sure if have noticed, but it's a little difficult to get hold of a newspaper around these parts." She pointed out.

"Touché." I conceded. "In that case, the short of it is that Blackbeard captured Ace and handed him over to the marines in exchange for the position of a Royal Warlord of the Sea. Once the news got out that Whitebeard's son had been imprisoned and was scheduled for a public execution, Whitebeard intervened."

"Yes, I had gathered that much. The guards talk a lot when they're drunk."

"Anyway, you know Luffy. There was no way he would stand by and watch his brother die, so he jumped into the fray as well. Rumor has it that he made a brief pitstop at Impel Down in order to cause the largest prison break in history but that's beside the point."

"Fufufufu, that does sound like Luffy." Robin agreed, hiding a smile behind her hands. "Though that doesn't explain why an emperor owed you a favor."

"Not sure if he told you, but it turns out Luffy and Shanks are old friends. And I happened to be at the right place at the right time to save his life." I said, causing Robin to look at me in alarm.

"Save his life? Was Luffy in danger?"

"Eh, he was being chased down by Admiral Akainu, so maybe?" That was the wrong thing to say as Robin's eyes widened in horror, forcing me to hurriedly supply her with further information. "Don't worry, I got him out with no problems so he's safe. Last I saw him, Rayleigh was taking him away to some isolated island for private training."

"Whew..." At that, Robin let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you for telling me. Though, does this mean that Luffy is not returning to Sabaody?"

"Probably not for a couple of years, I expect. By the way, how did you guys split up? Luffy was remarkably tightlipped about that."

I knew the answer of course. Nobody who called himself a fan of the show did not, but like I had said, Luffy had been reluctant to talk about it. And as sharing memories tended to be a good way to build rapport with people, I wordlessly urged her to fill the gaps in my knowledge. And at my prompting, Robin recounted the events leading up to the split in as captivating a manner as only a master storyteller could, her words painting a vivd picture in my mind. I suspected, the quality of the telling was aided by the knowledge of Luffy's safety, a fact which surely raised her spirits.

"…and that's when Soran found me. And seeing as I needed a place to rest, I decided to avail myself of the local accommodations." Robin finished her account of the last weeks, adding what I assumed to be a joke at the end. In a way though, it made sense. She was a valuable prisoner, and it was in the garrison commander's best interest to hand her over to the World Government in prime condition. Seeing as the guards had treated Robin's wounds, they had realized this too. Which also answered the question of why Robin hadn't been put to work with the others, and instead been kept in an isolated jail cell in the Warden's tower. "So, what's the plan, Bellamy?"

"Probably join up with the Revolutionaries and storm the camp? Why do you ask?"

"Well…as it's been twenty minutes already and you haven't unlocked these," Robin answered, holding up her shackled wrists for emphasis. "I feel as if it's well within my rights to question your motives."

"Ah, sorry. I was distra…"

"The most obvious conclusion being that you have a hidden fascination for these types of things."

My reply to that accusation was just a garbled set of choking sounds as I tried to utter a rebuttal. With a lot more effort, I managed to splutter out something akin to "T-that's not true!", while reaching for the sea stone cuffs with the key. Robin simply pulled her wrists – and hence her cuffs – out of my reach, raising them up to eye-level and appraising them with a practiced eye.

"I suppose they could look quite fetching under the right circumstances. I could stay in these for a bit longer if you want? It would not do to refuse my savior his reward." Robin finished, giving me a playful wink, which did bad things to my heart. A deep crimson blush on my face, I inserted my key into the keyhole, resolutely not looking anywhere else, even if her half open prisoner's garb made it one hell of a challenge.

Thankfully I was saved from making a larger fool of myself by Aisa, who came stomping over with all the incensed indignation only a nine-year-old girl could have.

"Bellamy! We gotta beat up the bad guys and free everyone!"

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Naturally, we couldn't just walk over to the garrison barracks and start whacking people in the face. Well, I could but that probably wasn't the most elegant way to pull off a rescue. So instead, we opted for a more convoluted and elaborate scheme with many different moving parts.

Perhaps it was Aisa's presence, but the guards still hadn't noticed our incursion and if the man whose uniform I had borrowed didn't wake up, we still had a good two hours by my count before the garrison noticed that something was wrong. More than enough time for Bunny Joe to return to where our friends were waiting and bring back reinforcements. Meanwhile, the three of us – that was Aisa, Robin and I – got busy tilting the scales in our favor.

The first order of business was to neutralize the garrison. While in the show, Bunny Joe's revolutionaries had made short work of the guards, I couldn't be certain that this would be the same now. For one, according Robin the guards had talked about a surprise inspection which had been carried out two days prior, led by a navy HQ rear admiral named Mire. Furthermore, some of the inspectors hadn't left and commandeered a set of rooms in the warden's tower, though the guards themselves didn't know who these individuals were.

On a side note, that the current state of alertness was the height of local competency of the last decade, really begged the question of how bad discipline would have been in canon.

I would have loved nothing more than to sneak out of the camp with Robin and then come back, but Aisa staunchly refused to abandon her new friend who in turn refused to leave her "family" behind. And there was no way we could sneak a whole house full of prisoners out of the camp unnoticed. Hence, I had to stack the deck.

Hey, if you weren't cheating, you weren't trying.

One of the most common ways to do this was to drug the guards. Dinner time was approaching, and while I wouldn't be able to fiddle with the food due to the abundance of cooks and servers, the after-meal vodka was another matter entirely. Being in the middle of nowhere, Tequila Wolf suffered from a chronic lack of supplies, with the supply convoys being infrequent and irregular, everything being slowly trundled along the bridge by wagon trains. To make matters worse, the revolutionaries had been hitting these all week to sap the garrison of weaponry and ammunition while replenishing their own stocks. If this state of things had continued for much longer, the garrison would have noticed the oddity and sent people to investigate, but for now they had been content to wait and grumble about the lazy logistics team.

Now, while the revolutionaries may have only planned on depleting military supplies, the commodity that was most at risk of running out was the vodka supply. If what Soran had told me was true, the situation was so dire that there was only a single barrel left before the garrison would be forced to go through a dry spell. A single barrel, sitting in an isolated and barely guarded cellar... a perfect target.

Getting the layout of the facility was a piece of cake, Robin's fruit being specialized in information gathering and espionage. Robin didn't even need to leave her cell, being able to bloom a few parts of her on the inside of my coat for communication purposes, and thus guiding me through the facility by feeding me the intel she gathered through a myriad of eyes.

For the most part this worked, nobody paying any real attention to another guard wandering the hallways, a scarf slung around his face to ward off the bitter cold. The only potential pitfall had been the burly sergeant sitting by the door to the cellar, but his attention had been on nursing his drink and thus he completely missed a flat disk sliding across the stone floor and under the door crack.

From there it was easy matter to inject the entirety of Muret's custom sedative into the barrel, the high alcohol content fully capable of masking the taste. She had assured me that a single drop would be enough to lay Funkfreed out flat, so even a slightly diluted version should have no issues putting half the garrison to sleep.

While I was busy with this, Aisa had been on lookout duty, not only making sure we wouldn't get ambushed by whatever new additions the garrison had gotten, but also updating us (well Robin) on the location of our own reinforcements. Optimally, we would time our escape to coincide with our friends storming the settlement, so that we could use the chaos to slip out of the tower and join our friends with no one being the wiser.

Turned out, that even with a superhuman sensor like Aisa on your side, things weren't quite that easy. In hindsight, it had been unrealistic to expect nobody to notice, when hundreds of guards started falling asleep in the middle of their meal. Somebody sounded the alarm and within minutes the entire camp had descended into utter chaos. Luckily for us, the guards were rushing about like headless chickens due to a lack of leadership, as the warden and his officers had commandeered by far the largest share of the vodka for themselves.

Deciding that this was as good an opening as we were going to get, the three of us exited the underground dungeon, taking the imprisoned senior revolutionary officer with us. Sadly, while he might have been an experienced officer and a wise advisor, age waited for no man, and our pace slowed considerably as we were forced to adapt to his presence. For a while we managed, Aisa's sensory ability and Robin's network of eyes allowing us to avoid groups of hostile guards, bypass roadblocks and identify unguarded passages we could use to move forward.

And yet, no matter how great the quality of your intelligence, its usefulness was limited if one did not have the capability of acting upon it. Aisa's alarmed voice shouting that "They are here!" was all the warning we got, before a door opened up in thin air blocking our way.