thank you's to: Leynadoodles, shethoughts, thaitea-ff, read a rainbow, Hinabi, WastinTimeWatchinGrass, LiLy Resh, broked, NewCanvas, Lani0108, calynrabka96, Lucinda M. H. Cheshir, Lucy Jacob, Xielle Sky, A. Doctor, and guests!

notes: "getting cursed out by you is my favorite pastime" is something i'd probably write law saying to sophie at some point, but i'm currently saying it to all of you. i love reading all your thoughts (and cackling to myself, which i do too frequently). also, high school au has finally, finally been updated in fruitpunched. i have a much longer note at the end explaining what's about to happen for the rest of mnp and why the story is heading the way it's heading, but for now: enjoy!

—

methyl nitrate pineapples
hypothesis #32

easy peasy lemon squeezy

—

Once, there was a woman who lived in Marineford. Her husband had died many years ago in a Marine campaign. When her children grew older, they enlisted and died as well. She went to see the Commander-in-Chief with a bazooka in her hand. Her name was forgotten.

Once, there was a marine who had a leg blown off by a cannon because he disobeyed a World Noble's order to kill a civilian. He begged his superiors to change the World Government. His name was forgotten.

Once, there was a professor in West Blue who stumbled upon the mountains of books left behind in the Oharan massacre. With a coalition of scholars, they went to Marineford to demand answers. They died in Impel Down. Their names were forgotten.

Today, a girl is on her way to Marineford. She doesn't know how many nameless people have died as they tried to drag the colossal might that was the World Government in the right direction. She doesn't know how many people have stood where she would. She is there because no one else will do it for her. Because it's her family (she swore an oath once) making an absolute mess of the world.

Like all those who came before, she doesn't know if she can change anything.

But she does know she can try.

—

At around nine in the morning, Sophie was writing in her journal and determinedly eating a slightly squished tuna sandwich.

Because Log Poses to Marineford were exceptionally rare, she was navigating the old-fashioned way: affixing her position to the constellation of the gull during the night, heading west-southwest. The winds were quick and whippy, thanks to a Grand Line storm brewing in the faraway vista. Distance-wise, she was making good time.

She went over her plan. Finding a way into Sengoku's office. It was unlikely she'd be able to hide in the men's bathroom and introduce herself while Sengoku was on the toilet… so her best bet was doing what she'd done in G-13. Dressing like an average marine and sneaking her way up the castle's offices.

But that was easier said than done.

This time on the Sabaody Archipelago, the Hearts would be bustling around the galley, scooping breakfast onto plates. They would be relaxing around the table, waving her over and patting an empty spot…

She looked out upon the wide expanse of the ocean. Out here, she could've been the only person in the world. A stab of anxiety squeezed her stomach. If everything went wrong and she died in Marineford, this was the only thing she'd have of her crew: imagining the yellow submarine on the edge of the horizon.

…No. Not the only thing. She tapped the delicate, flowy red heart on her right wrist. She breathed in and out.

Sophie reread what she wrote: I am going to Marineford to ask Sengoku to please stop pushing the world off a cliff, and there's a good chance of him killing me. If I die, I'll die knowing my life was more than my mistakes and failures. If it's worth something now, then it had always been worth something.

Below this, she attempted a technical illustration of the dolphin swimming next to her. It resembled a sausage with eyes. This was definitely the world's worst scientific/adventure journal.

She added, To the future scholars who've stumbled upon this book (because the Glamorous Escapades of Strangways Sophie will undoubtedly be a mega-hit bestseller in the future, popular amongst nerds of all scientific fields): let it be known that right now I'm craving a glass of lemonade.

If she was lucky, this journal wouldn't end up at the bottom of the deep blue sea.

"I know I have you guys to protect me." She patted Arsenic and Kir; big pat for the rifle, little pat for the knife. "What's that, you're telling me I have your unconditional love and support? You two are so sweet, gosh."

"Afraid?" murmured Law against her ear, whispering through the wind.

Sophie smiled at the air. "No, actually."

She grabbed a line of rope hanging from the mast and leaned out over the side of the skiff, into the salt-wind and ocean spray. In the distance, a white pagoda castle appeared like a vision in a dream.

"I've been waiting for this my whole life."

—

About a mile from Marineford's port, her boat crossed paths with a Marine patrol ship.

Crewmembers leaned over the deck. "Marine?" they shouted down at her.

Sophie shook her head. Better not. If she said yes, they'd ask for name, rank, and identification tags.

They looked over her little skiff with its paltry lone sail. "We don't take refugees!"

She forced herself not to show her irritation. No refugees, except the kings and nobles escaping their own countries they've ruined.

"I'm here to visit family! My father's an HQ doctor!" She shouted Hippo's old service number—specific enough for them to have no reason to doubt her—and saluted in the proper fashion, fingers together, palm in, with a sparkling smile.

They glanced at each other, squinted at her again, and nodded in recognition of one of their own. They pointed into the steel-crescent bay and gave her the clearance to pass, and reminded her that because she wasn't a marine, usage of her weapons within Marineford was forbidden. Sophie shouted back she understood.

They let her boat continue on, and she breathed a tiny sigh of relief.

"Hey!"

Sophie looked back in dread.

The marines waved at her, lifting their caps in the air. "Welcome home!"

—

"Did you hear? The Supernova Eleven on Sabaody Archipelago! Pirates with astro-high bounties! I'm talkin' meteora bastards!"

Footsteps pounded on the bright cobblestones of Marineford Town, kicking a ball between them. Children were playing hopscotch, jumping rope, and singing in unison, "Pirates, pirates, swingin' on the vine, how many sinners did we catch tonight?"

It was all very nice and well, but the kids kicking the ball had their own favorite playground song. "Oh, once there was a bonnie lass," they hummed, "who found her lover gone. She climbed the tower and sang to Kong she'll follow him along."

"Oh, once there was a soldier boy, who went against his drum. He tripped and fell into the sea, where he dreams of sugar plum!"

Their voices grew as they ran down the street, laughing. "Oh, once there was a crew of them, thieves and buccaneers! Throw 'em in the deep dark gaol and have 'em disappear! Sing with us a merry tune, so our marines can cheer!"

"I'm gonna capture Captain Kidd!"

"I call dibs on Straw Hat!"

"The Surgeon of Death is mine! I'll hang him from the gallows myself!"

The ball passed between feet until a boy kicked it too far. It bounced and bounced…

…and rolled to a stop against a young woman's boot.

She picked it up, passing it between her gloved hands. "You sure about that?" She bent down to look them in the eye. Her smile was slight but wicked. "The Surgeon eats pollywogs like you for breakfast. One glance at him and your head will fly off your body like that." She snapped her fingers.

The kids flinched. "Th-that doesn't scare us!"

"So brave," she approved, tossing the ball back to them. "It scared me."

The leader saluted. "Don't worry, miss. When we're older, we'll protect you from the pirates."

A small laugh left her and she saluted back, saying she had no doubt about it. The kids flushed with juvenile embarrassment. They hurried away with shouting laughter, the stranger on the street forgotten.

"How cute," Sophie remarked. "Teach your children well, Sen, so they grow up to bomb countries in the name of the Gorosei."

Her rifle glinted, as if to say, Honey, you are philosophizing to an inanimate object.

"Yes, and it brings me great joy to imagine how profound you think I am."

Now, then.

Past the side street was the main road. Which was like the main roads in every island she'd visited. Bustling with life, rolling carts, people going about their daily business. Granted, with significantly more starched white uniforms.

Thanks to the fact that her gas mask covered her face in her bounty poster, she had no need to hide herself. It was a little disconcerting being among so many marines (it was a lot of feelings, actually), but the most important thing was carrying on as if she totally belonged here. She was outfitted in a white shirt with a striped, navy-blue sailor collar and white linen shorts. It just needed one final touch…

She walked past a group of young, Academy-aged cadets in the middle of renovating a restaurant. As she passed by, she nabbed a white marine cap sitting on a pile of wooden planks.

Someone was going to get yelled at by their drill sergeant. Oops.

Sophie adjusted her new hat, looking around.

Marineford Town was built around the castle, hugging the long, tall stairs that led to the castle gates. Cannons fortified the outer walls like an armored crown. The entire island was a garrison, carved out of steel and stone. Seagulls perched on houses and soared through the streets. Families strolled about, children licked ice cream, off-duty marines dined al fresco.

The sun was shining. The sky was blue. Everything was orderly and peaceful.

But it was also… stale.

There were no overt displays of culture from other islands, even though plenty of marines were lucky enough to have one. There were no different flags flying from the rooftops or draped on the windows celebrating where they had come from; only blue seagulls. She always thought that was just the way things were done. But looking back at G-13, she remembered glimpsing prayer books tucked into covert pockets, against-regulation lanyards worn around wrists in the colors of a country she didn't know.

Perhaps, Sophie thought as she walked, conformity makes everything easier.

You no longer carried the wishes of your own island or people. Once you took an oath as a marine, you belonged to one country called the World Government.

She could practically hear the Hearts cracking jokes about it. They'd be trailing behind her, gawking at the marines and the houses that all looked the same… she smiled, imagining for a moment that she had asked them to come with—no. No, that was a pointless idea in a lot of ways, but mostly in that she'd never be able to convince them to dress up like marines. They'd burn those uniforms and have a celebratory bonfire over it. And it's not like she'd stop them.

Sophie walked the entire perimeter of the castle, which took about an hour, trying to locate a vulnerable point of entry.

But of course, this was the Marine Headquarters.

Four watchtowers stood at each corner of the island, planted on high, rocky pillars.

At least six visible watchtowers were on the castle itself, to say nothing of the patrols and artillery she couldn't see.

And there were marines everywhere.

Though she had Armament now (though she could feel it pulsing through her veins in the space between breaths), Sophie wasn't so confident in her newfound abilities that she'd consider just jumping the outer wall like a fence. She'd be in plain view of the watchtowers.

Her investigation of the castle led her back to the entrance. Marines were freely walking up and down the stairs with an occasional nod at their fellow soldiers standing guard.

There was no other way in but up those five flights of stairs and through the main doors.

So that's what Sophie did. She walked, channeling all the Marine Energy that had been beaten into her for two decades. Shoulders thrown back, eyes forward, chin up, purposeful, My Blood is Made of Justice and Pirate Tears. Look normal, look normal… oh my god, these are a lot of stairs, do people climb this every day? Why am I sweating so hard? The stairs were so high that when she reached the third flight, she could look down and see over most of the rooftops of Marineford Town. Sophie had to take a break, winded, her backpack weighing heavily on her shoulders. What the heck!? What sort of sadist built this!?

A marine walking down said sympathetically, "You new here? The stairs get easier."

"Yeah, thanks," Sophie panted, waving at them. She dragged her legs forward, groaning, "Okay, you pineapple, let's move… come on, you can do this… don't let Sabo hog all the political mischief to himself… there we go…"

After an endless, decades-long journey that actually lasted about five minutes, the entrance towered above her. It was big enough to fit a giant standing at full height.

Nobody stopped her from walking in. Easy peasy lemon squeazy.

It was kind of a disappointment.

…Well, whatever! The infiltration was a success! We're doing this, you mangos, she cried internally, and imagined the Hearts cheering her on like they were watching her from the arena stands.

Inside was a flowering, open-air courtyard. Sophie strolled through with a neutral expression, trying to contain her amazement. Marines went about their day with dutiful rigor. A troop of young cadets ran in lines of two while singing cadence calls. Other marines were sparring on a grassy field beyond the pathway.

To the left were barracks and dining halls. To the right were the training grounds and armory.

And in the center was another door, leading into the castle.

Inside, the first thing that hit her was that… everything was smooth and angular and polished. The architecture was equally grand as the exterior, but restrained in a military fashion. It was severe and minimal, nothing gaudy or ostentatious, yet inspired total awe. Just like with the garrison town, this place was perfectly orderly, and had very little sign of personality.

Something near to wistfulness rose in Sophie's chest. A few more years down the road and she might've sailed to Marineford. A young woman in a bespoke lab coat, being awarded medals of honor in HQ, right here in these halls…

…And thank god that'll never happen. Yeesh! Sophie had far better things in store for herself now, like exploring the ocean with a snarky, nodachi-wielding doctor and eating breakfast with people who genuinely liked her company. Ugh. To think Marineford had been the highest goal she thought she could achieve… how embarrassing…

While strolling around and shaking her head at herself, she noticed a few other details.

First: There were very few guards and no regular patrols. Unnecessary, perhaps, considering how practically everyone inside the castle was a marine.

Second: Secretaries, mostly women, carried trays of tea and relayed assignments to high-ranking marines, mostly men.

Third: Everyone was concerned about the Supernova Eleven. She overheard them saying Heart Pirates no less than six times, and felt a flash of pride. She couldn't wait to tell them. They'd get all pink and flattered, and she'd be forced to make fun of how cute they were.

Now… how to find Sengoku's office and sneak in?

As she stood in the corridor thinking, a hassled-looking secretary click-clacked by, carrying a stack of papers. There wasn't a set uniform for the secretaries; they simply wore professional clothes in white and blue colors.

Sophie looked down at her own crisp, pearl-white clothes with its blue sailor collar. Could it be that simple…?

—

HQ had a centralized system of clerks that all operated together. Daily assignments and orders were in constant flux. Hundreds of marines were coming and going every day. Someone had to keep track of this mess and keep the wheels greased.

Secretaries in Marineford were like secretaries everywhere: essential, overworked, and most likely underpaid. Their office was bustling with activity, resembling a quick, adept dance one might find amongst bumblebees or hummingbirds. Women young and old were organizing file cabinets, taking calls from switchboards filled with Den Den Mushis, and making tea.

"With the Straw Hat Pirates arriving on Sabaody, that makes nine different rookie crews," one girl complained as she took notes while listening to a Den Den Mushi. "We're getting flooded with calls, I can't keep up."

"Terrible, those pineapples," tutted a curly-haired girl. She had made herself a cup of coffee and was now sipping it. "I just got a call from a Captain requesting to meet with the Fleet Admiral. Is there a time where he's free?"

"Absolutely not," snapped an older woman. "Sengoku has meetings all day, and the day's over halfway done. Unless it's urgent, tell them to call back tomorrow. His only free time is when he takes tea with crackers just before sundown, then retires to his residence for the evening. Didn't you learn the schedule in training?"

"Ah, o-of course! So sorry! I'm new here. Just started. I'll be on my way!" She swiped a random file, pretending to leaf through it, and went out in the hall.

A couple hours to kill. That left her just enough time for reconnaissance.

The would-be secretary made her way to the top floor, looking harried like she was delivering a memo to someone important. Vice Admirals passed by, intimidating, regal, weapons glinting. She bowed demurely. A few eyes glanced at her, then glazed over, moving on as if she was part of the background. And why wouldn't they? Her rifle and backpack had been stashed in the air vent of a ladies' bathroom, and she was just another nameless woman.

And being a nameless woman meant finding Fleet Admiral Sengoku's office was easy.

People were coming and going. One personal secretary took calls outside the office door. Two marines stood guard. No surveillance mushi.

She continued on.

One of the corridors opened up into a small, secluded area hidden by greenery. A roof zen garden, with swooping trees and a pebbled path. The marines training on the courtyard below were as small as ants. The garden was cool and shadowy thanks to three-tiered pagoda roofs above shading it from the sun.

She tapped out a cigarette and nearly heard Shachi chuckle, A smoke break already?

Is this really the best time to take it easy, Penguin said wryly.

This mission is doing terrible things to my cortisol levels, Sophie grumped back. Law would remind her that nicotine elevated cortisol. Ahh, you mango, what do you know, you're just some overly-tattooed pirate doctor…

He would've likewise reminded, Do you pull down the pants of every overly-tattooed pirate doctor, or just me?

Okay, brain. Her daydreams needed to be unrealistically supportive, not realistically make-her-wanna-dissolve-in-a-puddle. She was a traitor walking into the lion's den; she had to keep her wits about her.

Hey, a log, said Daydream Bepo.

"Huh?" Sophie immediately tripped and fell flat on her face with a loud, "GAH."

She rolled around and threw the log a glare. But it wasn't a log.

Unless logs went, "Oh."

Behind her, a man adjusted his posture on the grass. One hand was braced under his cheek, the other lifting a green sleeping mask over his eyes. His face was brown and angular and lean, the rest of him was built the same way, and the white suit he wore was rumpled from the way he was laying down. His gaze was indolent and steady, boring into Sophie. "Arara…"

She froze.

"Are you…"

She froze so hard she turned into a brick of ice.

"…here to hunt me down and give me paperwork?" Admiral Aokiji asked, dead serious.

She stared. What.

Without giving any reasonable explanation for anything, Aokiji pulled his white coat of justice over his shoulder and head like a blanket.

"I'm going away now," continued one of the most respected and renowned marines in modern history. His power was rumored to be so strong he could topple entire countries on his own. He was at least nine feet tall. "You don't see me."

Sophie's researcher instinct to observe a legendary creature in its natural habitat outweighed her human instinct to run. The shock of meeting an Admiral for the first time was less about his awesome might and more about how ridiculous he was.

"Don't w-worry, Aokiji-san," she mumbled, stifling a nervous giggle as she waved her file. "This isn't for you." Sophie stood a safe, polite distance from him, lighting a cigarette. She felt brave enough to say, "I'm out here on a smoke break. I won't tell if you won't."

His dark eyes peeked out from over his coat. "What a relief." He flicked his coat off him and yawned. "Feigning sleep was a bother."

She'd grown up hearing stories about all the Admirals. Aokiji was especially fabulous, with his ice powers and his good treatment of his subordinates; she knew even trivial facts about him, like how his motto used to be Burning Justice before he changed it to Lazy Justice, which she liked, too. But her first real impression of Admiral Aokiji was that he was a shameless slacker. "You're a real wartime strategist, aren't you?"

The Admiral glanced at her.

Sophie looked away, heartbeat spiking. Idiot, idiot, idiot, this isn't a pirate you can joke around with. "Excuse me. Sir. My apologies."

"You new here, nee-chan?"

"Um—yes. So sorry for waking you."

"No worries, no worries. I just pegged you as someone who'd been around marines your whole life."

This was dangerous. Very dangerous. But he wasn't in a rush to jump up and knock her around for implying insult. Sophie had spent years wishing to meet an Admiral. She wasn't going to run away just yet. "You're not wrong. I come from a family of marines, but… I lost them all. Now that I'm in Marineford, it… feels like I'm standing by their side again." In more ways than one.

"Bonds between marines run deeper than blood," Aokiji said, looking up at the sky. "If your family were marines, that means they were my family, too. I'm sorry for your loss."

His considerate reply stunned her. There were so many mixed emotions to examine, she didn't know the first thread to pull. Instead, she joked, "Does that mean I can call you Uncle, Aokiji-san?"

"Sure, go ahead. The clouds are nice today."

He had to be messing with her. Furthermore, it was a crime to be so laidback. "Looks like baby sea turtles. Trying to make it to the ocean."

"Will they?"

"Yes," Sophie believed, "as long as they don't waste time dreaming of an easier world."

The clouds drifted slowly. Aokiji scrutinized her for a languid moment, then adjusted himself on the grass and closed his eyes. She took her smoke break with the chill Admiral, all nine hundred feet of him and his lazy furrowed brow. He smelled like frost, a crisp, cold scent that stung her nose.

This was surreal. She wished there was some way to tell her thirteen-year-old self this. 'One day, you'll be watching the clouds with Admiral Aokiji. The path you'll take to get there is beyond anything you could ever imagine.'

The last bit of her cigarette fell to ash. "Well, I should get back to work. I won't tell anyone you're hiding here."

He cracked open an eye. "What are you doing later, young lady? Should I find you?"

Sophie wrinkled her nose, ears pink. She bent over the relaxed man, dropping her guise for a split-second with a smile. "I don't think so, Uncle, but you're still my favorite Admiral," she told him, and scampered off with a salute.

—

The sun was descending behind the castle.

Marine Headquarters was bringing its operations to its nightly slow-down. Everything appeared as normal.

But if you looked closely, you might spot three people out of place in their usual duties: Sengoku's personal secretary, who was sleeping with her head on her desk. Two marines posted outside his office, who were sitting on the ground and snoring.

And if your eye was particularly sharp, you might spot a fourth person who did not belong there at all, who was taking off her gas mask.

Sophie adjusted her tray and knocked on the Fleet Admiral's door.

—

Shuffling through reports at his desk, Sengoku threw out a distracted, "Come in." Right on time, his nightly tea.

The door slid open. Footsteps crossed his spacious office. A tray with a steaming cup of tea and fried rice crackers was placed carefully at his desk, then meticulously straightened. Not a single item was out of place.

Finally, he spared a glance at the tea girl.

"Hello," Sengoku said, frowning. He didn't recognize her.

"Good evening." She bowed deeply at the waist. "It's an honor meeting you. Please enjoy."

He adjusted his glasses, setting his papers aside. Must be a new hire. He thanked her with professional courtesy, sitting straighter. It would not do for the Fleet Admiral of the Marines to appear like a vulgar slob, even if the day's work was weighing heavily on his shoulders.

Sengoku reached for the tea. He could feel himself relaxing just at the smell of it. It was quite fragrant, and the first sip went down smoothly. Perhaps the tea girls were expanding their selection. The young woman took a step back, holding the tray behind her back. As if she was waiting for something.

He set down the cup.

Sengoku coughed a little. He paused. He coughed harder.

His heartbeat quickened. He tried to move his legs—he couldn't. His limbs were stiffening. As if he'd been paralyzed.

She was staring at him, transfixed by what she'd done.

Oh, he was a fool. "Poison," he gasped.

"No, no! It's o-okay!" The assassin flailed her arms. "It's not f-fatal—I tested it on myself—the petrification does no long-term damage. Aside from t-turning into stone. I-I mean, unless you counteract it with seawater! Though… c-considering you're a Fruit user, I don't think that's going to go down easy, either."

Right as his entire body turned numb—bones, tongue, and all—she raised a plastic toy gun and squirted his face with seawater.

Sengoku spluttered, suddenly able to move from the neck up.

"Who," he growled, "are you?"

—

In one very long breath, she said, "My n-name is Strangways Sophie, I served the World Government as a chemist, I'm here to petition you to cut ties with the World Nobles and free the slaves in Mary Geoise and I also would like to see justice for the crimes the Gorosei and the World Government has perpetrated against Ohara, Flevance, Machinastein, and many other islands, you have a duty to protect the world by telling us the truth, I've come a long way to say that and I'm not leaving here until I get an answer, thank you!" and then desperately inhaled.

Behind his wet glasses, Fleet Admiral Sengoku's eyes twitched in syncopated rhythm.

He was ostensibly an old man, but he sure didn't look it. Probably since the life-size seagull on top of his marine cap drew ninety percent of people's attention, and the other ten percent was devoted to that long, braided beard. His chest glittered with decorated medals. His coat of justice was draped on the back of his tall chair. Everything about him screamed The Authority Figure.

His hands spasmed, veins bulging, as though he was trying to lift and slam them on his desk. His skin shone a brief, brilliant gold before turning stone-grey. "Marines!"

"Ah, no, no, please d-don't call anyone! If we could just have a peaceful discussion—"

Something invisible burst through the air.

It shrieked up her spine, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. An unseen hand punched through her, a great, roaring pressure telling her to hit the ground. She had never felt anything like it before. The air itself, emanating from Sengoku, was attempting to throttle the life out of her—

And then it passed.

Sophie reeled back, stunned but not overwhelmed. Behind her, flower vases shattered. The inkwell on his desk burst open.

"What," she breathed, a bead of sweat trickling down her cheek. What was that? Part of his Devil Fruit?

Sengoku looked furious and surprised.

"I see," he began through gritted teeth. "You are no ordinary wretch. Alchemist Sophie, the traitor from G-13."

She braced her hands on his desk, breathing hard and watching him warily. "That's right."

"How did you sneak in here? Is our security so lax that a pirate can waltz right into Marineford?"

"It helps when people think your real face is a pox-covered horror. Plus, being a girl serving tea and doing clerical work comes with a natural invisibility."

Sengoku did not seem to take great pleasure in acknowledging that. "Do you understand what you're doing? Even if we disregard your past crimes, what you have said about cutting ties—"

"Means a death sentence." Her whole life, she had imagined talking to Sengoku. She imagined shaking his hand in adoration and shyly telling him when I grow up, I want to be just like you. "I had no choice but to coming knocking on your door. You're leading the world's largest government and there is zero way for your citizens to communicate with you. What do you normally get, strongly-worded letters that you never read? Doesn't matter. I want to know what you stand for, Sengoku."

He glared at this young woman who had just burst into his office, tricked him with his nightly tea, and had no place to be looking at him with such an intense, almost disturbed gaze. He said what anyone would say. He said, "You're insane."

"Yes," she agreed, her unblinking eyes so huge the pink corners were visible. "Justice turned me mad. Devotion made me a terror."

"The sheer nerve of you," he raised his voice, "a traitor walking into my own house—"

"This was my only option—"

"You have no right to—"

"The right?" Sophie brought her fist down, and the wooden corner of his desk fractured, wood splintering. Her thoughts felt like one eternal scream. "I've bled for you. I've killed for you."

"I barely know who you are," Sengoku replied. "I've never met you before."

The slant of sunset light coming in from the window was lovely. It lit the polished wooden floors in a vivid, ruby-brown color, and glinted against the scroll bearing the word justice on the wall over the Fleet Admiral's head. She looked at it with her heart bleeding freely on her sleeve, feeling sickened and small and sad.

But just for a moment. This wasn't over.

"You've never met me," Sophie agreed, swiping a thumb at the corner of her eye, "but I'm family, Gramps. This runs deeper than blood."

I served this flag, she was telling him. They were not strangers. She wasn't just some insolent brat strutting around. Marineford was her house, too.

Sengoku raised his chin, regarding her with cold, calm soberness. "Family or not," he said with a hint of infuriated sarcasm, "I suppose you'll kill me now. But mark my words, you won't make it out of Marineford alive."

"I'm not here to hurt anyone," she retorted, just as cold. "That would be a tad counterproductive. Free the people you're keeping in Mary Geoise."

"That's out of my jurisdiction."

"Then stand up to your superiors and make it your jurisdiction."

"How self-righteous," he scoffed with some difficulty; she couldn't tell if it was because of the petrification or something else. "Have you a connection to a slave? Are you related to one?"

A nasty taste wormed into her mouth. She felt Hai Xing touch her arm, and exhaled it like a salt-breeze. "They're people. They're not like marines and how you serve the World Nobles. They were taken, and you allowed them to be taken, and unlike you, unlike this whole place, nobody signs up to be a slave."

"I do not control what goes on in Mary Geoise," Sengoku snapped. "Even my power is limited! I answer to the Five Elders!"

"Where were those Five Elders when marines were dying in Vira?" Sophie shouted back, her eyes painfully bright. "I'll tell you where! Sitting in their ivory tower while marines, young marines, young marines like me, fight their meaningless wars!"

"You obstinate, disrespectful—"

"Your personal failures," she continued in a fulminous rage, "number the amount of slaves you're pretending doesn't exist. Every one of them is a mark upon your soul. Have you considered your actions are shameful to the soldiers who've died for you?"

"Don't." The air crackled again. "Don't you dare tell me how to mourn my dead. Obeying the Celestial Dragons, the gods of our sea, is a necessary cruelty. It brings order. Peace!"

Sophie gripped her hair, her eyes burning in realization. Sengoku was nothing like her. He was not looking at himself in the mirror and gazing upon all the horrors he had carved into his bones. She was so—confounded and despairing she didn't know what to say.

But if Law was standing beside her, perhaps he'd murmur… "A peace that's b-built atop piles and piles of suffering bodies isn't peace. It's a mass hallucination."

"The nuances and complexities of these problems are beyond simple labels like good and bad. You have no understanding of it."

Now, as wretched and tumultuous her emotions were at present, she couldn't let that slide.

"I," Sophie replied, "am an academic. You want to talk tax policy? Economic development? The burden of forcing islands to pay Heavenly Tribute before they receive your help? Our military tribunals, which should be investigating war crimes, are instead used to arrest marines who've refused to obey orders to transport slaves!"

That's fucking right, Sabo would've said.

She was suddenly hit by the staggering realization that this was what nineteen years in G-13 had been for. It was so she could stand here, across from Sengoku, and snarl, "Don't tell me I don't know enough about the World Government when it's all I've ever known. Try me, Gramps. I can do this all day."

His face twitched like he was gurgling on a lemon every time she said gramps. The Hearts had taught her well on aggravating authority.

"We are teetering on the edge of a precipice!" Sengoku thundered. "Imagine if the World Government crumbles. Yes, we emphasize protection to the islands in our alliance, but marines uphold justice everywhere, all across the world! Do you want the Yonkou running the entire damn ocean!? Do you want to see islands pillaged!? Peaceful nations burning!? We are the only barrier between stability and total chaos!"

Sophie flinched.

Ursa rested a soothing hand on her back, and she summoned the strength to whisper, "I saw Machinastein burn. I saw our people running through it, setting fires."

He had been sitting broad-shouldered and tall throughout their little debate, his head raised in commanding self-assurance. Now Sengoku looked like an old man wearing a fake seagull on his head and a bunch of grimy medals.

She braced herself for another deluge of shouting.

But he was quiet.

Sengoku sighed, long and slow and tired. "I can tell you came here with… good intentions. But you've wasted a trip. My advice to you is to chase freedom. If you're a pirate, then act like a pirate. Follow the natural order of things. Don't involve yourself in matters that don't concern you."

Of course it concerned her. He knew that. Sophie knew that. As long as she was alive in this world, then this world concerned her. But she caught sight of her reflection in the window. She looked drawn and defeated, her eyes red at the edges, as red as the sunset touching down on the ocean horizon. She'd known there was a very high probability of sailing all the way here just to shout at a brick wall. She had known that, but…

A soft bleating noise.

She hadn't dwelled on it when she entered—for obvious reasons—but sitting in the corner was… a goat. It bleated again with a quiet, "Mehh…"

"Um," Sophie said. "Is it… okay?"

After a tense pause, Sengoku said curtly, "He's hungry."

"Oh. Where do you keep your… hay? Grass?"

He kept his mouth shut and glared.

"Gramps, tell me so I can feed him."

He kept the alfalfa in a drawer.

The goat was unreasonably cute. It curled up on Sengoku's desk and ate its grass with purposeful nibbles, unconcerned with the strange tea girl berating his owner, one of the strongest men in the world, who was also physically stuck to his chair.

At this point, Sophie supposed she could call it a day. Sengoku was the man she had feared him to be. Nothing was going to change. Nothing might ever change.

But that was such a terrible thing to believe.

Especially with Hippo right beside her, patting her on the shoulder and assuring, The only constant in life is change.

Thinking about what to do, Sophie hopped up on his desk and started eating his fried rice crackers. Sengoku watched her, a vein throbbing in his forehead. She watched him back, munching.

"So," she said, "you really think you'll never change your mind?"

"I have a duty to the people."

She made a wrong buzzer sound. "Not the people. To the human citizens in the World Government alliance."

"…Correct. Not to fishmen or merfolk. Not to the other species of this world, or other islands who don't pay Heavenly Tribute. I do what I am ordered. You can call it cowardice, traditionalism, conformity… but it is the tried and tested and proven way to keep the peace."

"So you admit that the World Government's help is conditional."

"I have never pretended otherwise."

Sophie brushed the crumbs off her leg. "You murdered scholars." She selected a second cracker. "I mean, jeez, what was up with Ohara?"

"What do you know of that incident?"

"Not much. Just the minor detail about them not actually wanting to kill the world. They wanted to learn the truth." Sophie chewed, wiping her mouth. "Big bad military men, scared of a few historian nerds."

"If I was capable of moving, I'd execute you for that."

"Mm-hm. A rope around the neck. Or a bullet to the medulla."

He didn't laugh at her easygoing acceptance of the consequences. "What island are you from?"

"Dunno. I was brought into G-13 as a baby."

Sengoku didn't appear satisfied with that. Well, he could get in line. "And the reason why you turned your back on us?"

She looked up from eating his crackers and petting his goat. "Why do you care?"

"When a young girl who's also a former marine crashes into my office spouting these kinds of ideologies," Sengoku rumbled, still scowling, "I am not so terrible as to not wish to understand her."

Sophie narrowed her eyes. The window was three feet away from her. The hallway outside was quiet. If this was a trick, she was on her guard.

"I loved G-13," she said eventually, choosing her words with care. "At some point, I wanted to be loved back." She had spent her whole life trying to deserve being loved back. "That didn't happen. So instead of being expendable, I chose to live."

"I see. I've always had mixed feelings about the World Government taking in orphans. We teach them to be the finest soldiers, but… fail them in other ways." He shook his head, aggravated. "Regardless, you have no idea what I'm holding back. There are marines who would destroy entire oceans in the name of Absolute Justice if I let them. There are scientists who I've refused to work with, a decision that colleagues have vocally disagreed with me over."

"Do you mean Caesar Clown?"

Sengoku's scowl deepened, which was enough of an answer.

"I've read some of his work," Sophie recalled. Before the Punk Hazard debacle happened, he contacted G-13 and asked to look into their old gigantification experiments.

"We declared his chemical weapons illegal and tried to arrest him." Sengoku got all tense again, like a wire about to snap. He seemed like the type to hate failure.

"His experiments were too extreme even for you," she muttered with a scoff. True, there were many marines who followed Absolute Justice and wouldn't bat an eye at accepting Caesar Clown's help. Didn't that mean the whole thing needed a full renovation? "But doing one right thing doesn't excuse the rest of it. Commodore Dormio ran a black-market right under your nose for years."

"There will always be marines who abuse their positions of power. We would've thrown him in Impel Down had your captain not killed him."

"What about the marine captains who arrest pirates in the morning and round up civilians for the Celestial Dragons in the afternoon? Is that justice?"

"Strangways Sophie," Sengoku said, and she jolted at how he said her name, blinking wide-eyed. "You've come a long way. I can see that. I've been amicable to you because of your years of service—"

"Amicable. Sure."

"—but there is nothing you can do or say that will change the World Government. I've asked the same questions when I was younger and received the same answer. Refusing to admit to any wrongdoings is the first rule in having absolute strength. I have less power than you think."

"You're alive," Sophie retorted, "and there are no chains on your hands. Did Fisher Tiger have more power than a Fleet Admiral when he scaled the Red Line and freed Mary Geoise?"

He sighed. It was one of those old-man sighs. Those 'I can't believe a girl is taking me hostage in my own office' sigh. "Here's what I don't understand. You're a pirate, but you want to make a world a better place."

"Actually," Sophie jabbed her finger at one of the medals on his chest, "I want you to make it a better place. I want to have fun and live my life the way I should've been living it. I want to make havoc in a good world. But until that happens, I have to… you know, do this until you get your pineapples in a row."

That seemed to take Sengoku by surprise. It also seemed to irritate him. The seagull on his head wobbled.

"Many pirates become pirates because of injustice," she added. The World Government had every opportunity to do something about the circumstances that made pirates, if their heads weren't so far up their own buttholes. "My own captain might've not been a pirate at all if you buffoons had helped Flevance instead of running away."

"Flevance?"

"Helping nobles escape and letting the country fend for itself—"

"Your captain," Sengoku interrupted. "The Surgeon of Death. How old is he?"

"…Eh?"

"How old is he?"

"Twenty-f-four!" Sophie yelped.

His face went slack in astonishment, incredulity, perhaps wonder… and she watched in supreme confusion as it twisted in anguish. Sengoku struggled to say his next words. "Did he… ever mention… a man named Rocinante?" If he could move his hands, he would've been pounding his chest. "My boy, Rocinante?"

The sunset was very red, casting shadows all across his office. The Fleet Admiral of the Marines was staring at her like she was the last person alive.

"Puru puru puru," went the Den Den Mushi on his desk.

"Answer me," Sengoku said. "Please."

Sophie slid off his desk and took a step back… then another. Rocinante. Cora-san. Law's Cora-san… was close to Sengoku? In the mire of emotions lurching through her, the thought that stood out to her was this wasn't hers to say.

"I…" she began, shaking her head—

"Puru puru puru…"

The snail rang again… but it sounded off. It sounded like a dozen Den Den Mushis were ringing throughout the entire floor, simultaneously. The sound was so unsettling that it ended the conversation as Sophie and Sengoku both listened, glancing at each other in a split-second of shared confusion.

Then came a distant, thudding drumbeat. It came at a steady pace, one, two… one, two…

War drums. The guard towers surrounding the castle were sounding an alarm. It was to alert every marine on Marineford that something was happening.

"Sengoku!" someone was screaming outside, and the door flew open. Sophie ripped her knife out from her boot, prepared to defend herself. Ignoring her completely, the marine fell to the floor, gasping. "Sir! It's—there's—"

"Good god, man, spit it out!" Sengoku roared.

"Pirates! In the harbor!"

And that was her signal to bounce.

Sophie unhooked a bottle on her belt and tossed it to the marine. "Make the Fleet Admiral drink this. It's seawater."

"Your head start," Sengoku growled as the poor marine looked between them in panic, "is as long as it takes me to move again."

She shoved open the window and stepped on the ledge. The muffled sound of the war drums became clear and loud, and her yellow curls blew in the wind. She looked back, eyes glinting, the traitor who had dared to come into Marineford and eat the Fleet Admiral's rice crackers.

"Till next time, Gramps." Sophie stuck the last cracker in her mouth, and jumped.

—

Hardly anyone in the crowd noticed her shoving through them.

The massive gathering of yelling marines was the perfect distraction to make her escape. Her first thought was that it was the Hearts. But that'd be stupid. Law wouldn't senselessly charge into Marineford. And even if he would, he wouldn't get caught. Especially with a submarine. Whoever this pirate was, they were dramatic as hell.

She maneuvered through the jam-packed harbor, trying to get back to her boat. Vice Admirals were striding forward, and the crowd swelled this way and that to either give them room or gawk closer. At the front was Vice Admiral Tsuru. Six-feet-tall, white hair pulled in a severe bun, surrounded by her all-female marine crew. Sophie couldn't help but stop for a minute, appreciating the ladies passing by with their coats whipping behind them.

Ahhh, focus, Sophie! It was time to get her butt home. The marines were all shouting, their weapons drawn, trying to have a peek at the pirate ship. She was the lone figure in the crowd running in the opposite direction of the current.

"Madman, knocking on our door!"

"What's he calling himself?"

"Something stupid."

"Former Whitebeard pirate, ain't he?"

"Unlucky bastard, that Fire Fist."

She stopped. People shoved against her shoulder. She didn't even feel it.

"Blackbeard, that was it. Said he came in from Banaro Island."

"Do you see him?"

"Portgas D. Ace—"

"Shove over, I can't see!"

"There, on the bow—"

"—he got Fire Fist Ace!"

Finally, Sophie turned and looked properly at the pirate ship.

Several pirates stood on a massive raft. On their black sail was a jolly roger of three fierce skulls. Their large captain was laughing, a black and gold pirate's coat trailing behind him like a cape and a tricorn hat bedecking his head. At the very front of the ship, a much smaller figure was sitting on his knees, hands cuffed behind his back, displayed for all of Marineford to see: the hunched-over, bleeding body of Fire Fist Ace.

In the blazing red sunset, Blackbeard lifted his clenched fists and boomed, "ZEHAHAHA! YOU'RE MIGHTY WELCOME, MARINES!"

It reverberated through the air, vast and awful.

Blackbeard seized the top of Ace's head and shook him the way a child might shake a rag doll. As if to demonstrate to the disbelieving marines that a dog had finally been put down.

And Ace—it was impossible to know if he was even still conscious—slumped over, unresponsive.

It all went very silent for Sophie.

She saw the marines around her howling. She saw them stomp their feet and jeer at the captured son of Whitebeard, their mouths spewing profanities. A wayward elbow hit her on the side of her temple, and it didn't knock her awake, so this couldn't be a dream.

Vice Admirals were pointing at their battleships and bellowing to hurry to Impel Down, knowing they had no time to waste.

In the midst of it, the endless silence, Sophie thought: Move your stupid feet.

She just had to get on her boat. And then she'd be back to stupid Sabaody and tell her stupid captain about his stupid connection to the stupid Fleet Admiral of the stupid Marines…

In St. Poplar, in the rain, Ace grinned at her over the pizza and cheap wine they shared. He had been so kind… and she had passed along Blackbeard's words to him… she had said Banaro Island…

She looked up. The Hearts were gathered at the table, ready to eat. Beyond the portholes the ocean was dark, but inside the galley it was warm and bright and inviting. Their captain had an empty seat next to him, and they were all waiting for her to sit down.

"Three days," Law reminded.

Sophie straightened out the bill of her marine cap. With a trembling, apologetic smile, she whispered, "I might be a little late."

—

She joined the marines trooping through the battleship, the one that she saw Vice Admiral Garp hauling Ace into. So long as she kept her Marine Scowl on, Arsenic slung over her shoulder, and shouted, "Yessir!" every once in a while, no one glanced twice at her.

If she had about a day to figure out how to help Ace, she could memorize the layout of the ship… Sophie smacked herself four times, gasping. The Tarai Current! At most it'd be an hour before they reached Impel Down!

There was no time to create a detailed strategy!

In the lower deck, right above the cargo hold, was the brig where they were keeping the Whitebeard pirate. There was shouting going on, voices fuming and indiscernible. Two marines were watching from around a corner, one tall and blond, the other pink-haired and bespectacled.

Sophie walked behind them, adjusting her hat. She knew those marines. She had bumped into them on St. Poplar.

"Isn't h-he Luffy-san's brother?"

"H-he's also a W-W-Whitebeard Commander, Koby! Don't get too close!"

The ship lurched as it raised anchor, moving so fast she doubted they had even finished preparing the sails for departure. She braced herself as the floor rocked, and it was only then that she saw how badly her hands were shaking. She squeezed them tight, then rubbed her palms together.

This was fine. This was totally fine! She worked best under excruciating pressure and life-threatening conditions! Ahhhhh!

Internal screaming aside, Sophie had a plan.

It was not a great plan. But one hour didn't give her a lot of options.

Once she set this plan in motion, she left the cargo hold, adjusting her now much lighter backpack. Her boots clomped down the deck, instinctively bracing themselves as the ship rocked in turbulent waves. I just have to steer clear of Garp and his marines, she told herself, calming down. No one else can recognize me. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

A hand landed on her shoulder, stopping in her tracks.

She looked up its arm, followed it to its epaulette-gilded shoulder, and then to the face of someone she had only seen recently in her nightmares. Her cap was flicked off her head. Before she could reach for Arsenic, she was thrown against the wall and his hand wrapped around her throat, cutting off her choked gasp. He would've crushed her windpipe were it not for Armament.

The former Vice Admiral of G-13 towered above his ex-protégée, and he wasn't letting go.

"You look a bit lost, Sophie," said Lettidore. "What happened to that pirate crew of yours?"

Stressed depressed lemon zest. She miscalculated.

—

They threw her into the brig so hard her brain rattled.

Sophie did her best not to look so pathetically crumpled, but that was a challenge considering the floor was getting mildew all over her hair. She let out a tiny groan, and instantly regretted it as she almost inhaled grimy, pee-smelling straw. Her shoulder throbbed where it had banged against the ground. It stank of rot and piss in here.

She managed a choking cough—oh, this was not nice at all—and struggled to sit up, her legs shaking beneath her. She was a ghastly sight, hair falling across her face, the finger-shaped bruises on her neck, grime all over her legs and white clothes. They had shackled iron fetters to her ankles and wrists. Heavy things with clinking chains. She had never been in chains before. This sudden, horrifying helplessness was a natural cause for panic.

But then Sophie saw that she wasn't alone.

Fire Fist Ace was sitting in the same cell as her.

His black hair was matted with dirt and dried blood. Blood was everywhere. He was drenched in it, bare-chested, hatless. His red beaded necklace vanished into the color. Seastone cuffs had been slapped on his wrists, bulkier and shinier than hers. The places that weren't bleeding were bruised dark purple. He couldn't fully open either of his eyes.

Blackbeard had beaten him to pieces.

Ace raised his head, his blank look converging into recognition. "Strange Sophie," he rasped, breathing shallowly. "They got you, too?"

Shocked tears pricked her eyes. The last time she'd seen him—on St. Poplar, he stood tall and blazing, wearing a bold grin and his misspelled name on his left arm and his father's mark upon his back, his fire protecting him from any harm.

"I can't believe it," she whispered tearfully, trying to keep her voice from cracking. "You're still handsome even though you've been trampled by a hundred porcupines. That is so unfair."

Ace stared. He wheezed a little, grinning like some wild ocean creature. Then he coughed up bloody phlegm and grimaced. Definitely had some broken ribs.

But her reunion with this notorious pirate who halfway-remembered her name was cut short. Marines were stepping into the brig, and several came up to Sophie to spit at her. A few globs hit her in the cheek. Weak. They had nothing on Sabo's spittle.

Ten minutes, she thought, glaring through her hair.

"They hate you more than me," Ace remarked.

"Marine traitors don't get nice things," she said dully, and gave him an evil look. "Weren't you supposed to win against Blackbeard?"

He averted his gaze. "Yeah, that didn't go as planned."

Lettidore knocked his fist against the bars of the cell, and the two former Hexheads faced each other. He didn't look any different after so much time apart. Still the same long moustache, pale eyes, ashen hair, and a distaste for everything that wasn't Absolute Justice-related.

She should've known. The papers said that Lettidore had been reassigned to HQ as a Rear Admiral. She should've been on her guard.

Her heart raced. She felt fifteen again, picking at the burn scars on her palms until they bled and watching him shred all the worthless science experiments she'd been doing for fun. Lettidore had patted her head and told her that he was harder on her because she was special, because she was brilliant, but he'd forgive her mistakes if she asked, and then she would sob in relief and apologize over and over and—

"The sheer nerve of you to walk into Marineford," he said. "I'm in awe. Really."

Sophie gritted her teeth, a sickly churning disgust spreading in her chest. She hated him. With every fiber of her being, she hated him. "Hippo-sensei w-went back to Vira. He's joined the Revolutionary Army. Did you know that?"

His hand clenched the sword at his side. "I heard. You may as well have killed him, you poisonous eyesore."

She hated him. "If I-I'm poison, it's because you poisoned me."

"You can't help what you are," he said, speaking over her in that dismissive, uncaring way usually reserved for gum on the bottom of one's shoe. The surroundings contorted, and she was back in G-13, telling herself in the mirror that today she won't be a disappointment. "I tried my best to build you into a marine worthy of respect. I tried turning shit into gold. But you have never been worthy of anything, and you'll die that way."

She hated him so much. Her shoulders curled up to her ears. Her eyes were like unfocused shards of ice.

Ace, who had been getting more and more incensed as he watched the exchange, snarled, "Hey! Watch it, asshole."

"Useless bravado… you'll get what's coming to you, Fire Fist."

"I would've thought," Sophie said shakily, Ace's voice snapping her back into her own body, "being demoted to Rear Admiral would've put a damper on your confidence."

His fist slammed against a metal bar. "You'll pay for what you did to G-13—"

"Lettidore." Garp patted him on the shoulder. "That's enough now. Give me a moment."

He threw the pirates one last dark glare, and left without another word.

Then it was just them and the Vice Admiral. Garp had been standing in the back this whole time, clutching a bloodied orange cowboy hat. He was shadowed, the half-circle scar around his left eye barely visible. Garp spared a glance at her—not necessarily pitying, but a bit sorrowful. Then he composed himself.

Five minutes, she thought, taking deep breaths.

On St. Poplar, Garp had been a violently goofy man. That man was gone. It was unnerving to Sophie; she'd grown up reading about him in the papers, snorting at the photos of him laughing next to captured pirates or stuffing his face with donuts. Beaming, smiling like a kid, even with grey hair and wrinkles. His hand dropped to his side, clenching the cowboy hat. "Why… did it have to be you, Ace?"

Ace rested his head back on the wall. Blood dripped down his chin.

"I… found two boys in East Blue to mentor. They're nothing like you and Luffy, but… what could've been."

Ace laughed, sounding equally sarcastic and pained. Might've been the ribs. "You failed with us, so now you want a new chance at raising marines?"

Garp squeezed his eyes shut.

Um, Sophie thought. What.

They didn't sound like any ordinary conversation between a marine and a pirate. Garp the Hero and Fire Fist Ace sounded… related?

"I should've done something about you, kid," he said, and Sophie didn't realize he was talking to her until he added, "I heard the rumors about you. Should have been more careful. Took you away from G-13. Brought you to my island, in East Blue. Raised you right."

She blinked quickly in alarm. Had her reputation as G-13's baby pyromaniac been that well-known? "Um, well, I—I think I ended up fine. At least from where I'm sitting, the view's nice."

As Garp puffed out his chest in dramatic insult, Ace shot her a bloodied grin. "You didn't raise anyone, Gramps," he said. "We were Dadan's boys."

He deflated, and said quietly, "Maybe so."

Sophie had no idea what was going on, only that she was quite certain there was too much family dysfunction going on in the brig. And what the pineapples was a Dadan, anyway? She drew her legs up, wiggling closer to Ace.

"That Blackbeard fellow," Garp said angrily, grasping the cell bars. "Why on earth did you have to go after him?"

"He killed one of my crewmates and threatened to do the same to Luffy." Ace tilted his head, flinty and disdainful. "I was just… what do you call it? Right. Issuing justice."

"He'll want something after this. A Shichibukai seat, I've no doubt."

Ace's expression darkened. "That crafty bastard, being a Warlord… you better be careful, Gramps."

The famed Vice Admiral seemed to be fighting through several emotions. Finally, he snapped, "That seat was once offered to you! You could've worked alongside the World Government!"

"Let me out of my cuffs and I'll reconsider," Ace returned with a savage look. "I'll reconsider it right up my ass."

"Do you know what'll happen, you fool?" Garp demanded, his hand tightening around the bars. His cheeks were red in anger, or maybe grief. "Now that the World Government has you… there is nothing I can do to stop the inevitable!"

Sixty seconds to go. "Why not arrest Blackbeard, too?" she wondered.

"That's not within the scope of my authority," Garp said gruffly, though frustration was visible in his glare.

"I've been hearing that a lot today." She thought of an old battle prayer that was once spoken by marines, supposedly hundreds of years ago. She had read it in a book once, and it had stuck with her. My lords the dragons, give me the strength to serve you. I will defend your justice in battle. I will smite your enemies with all my wonders. I will burn them until they are full of holy light. Glory! Glory! Glory!

Thirty seconds.

Sophie glanced at Fire Fist Ace, sitting in the filthy, mildewy cell with her. Handcuffed and wounded, his bangs falling over his eyes. A son of Whitebeard, a young pirate with a bounty of five hundred and fifty million beli, destined to become a fearsome legend.

If she could hear the voice of the ocean, she imagined the tide breaking on the shore would sound something like this: You are not like him. You were not born for this.

And the waves rolling back would reply: But you are like him. He scorched himself into the shape of power. And you were reborn for this.

Ten seconds.

The door crashed open. Koby and Helmeppo toppled into the brig, yelling, "Bomb! Bomb in the cargo deck!"

"What!?" Garp barked, whirling around. "Extinguish it!"

"We did, sir!" shouted the other marines, looking triumphant. "It was that witch—the Alchemist's doing! She planted it!" They pointed at the young woman in the cell, sitting helplessly with her limbs bound.

Three.

Ace looked up. Her strange stare was the color of the sea.

Two.

A smile bloomed like acid. "Did you think I'd only plant one?"

—

On the ocean, a fleet of battleships were swiftly sailing the Tarai Current.

Without any warning, a bright light flashed through the portholes of one ship. Then it burst open in a deafening, fiery explosion.

—

It took only one solid, Armament kick for the jail cell bars to go tumbling down. Seastone and metal cuffs landed on the unconscious marine jailer with a fleshy clang. Water was rushing through the broken hull below. Garp was somewhere in the rubble, having thrown himself over his marines to protect them.

She slung her backpack on and gripped her rifle, noting the rising water. "Ready, Ace-san?"

He rubbed his freed wrists, bursts of fire flickering in his palms. "It's Ace from now on. Got it?"

They were covered in wooden splinters and smoke. Alarms were sounding. Their grins were mirrored: wild and flushed with adrenaline. "Got it, Ace."

"Let's mosey," said the cowboy.

if i cannot move heaven

then i will raise hell

notes: alright. here's the thing.

many years ago (and i am not exaggerating, considering how long this fic has been going on), i wanted to give sophie her own plot that ties her into canon, in case law/the heart pirates stayed as minor characters after the timeskip. boy was i wrong, but anyway! i've decided to commit to this sophie-to-canon storyline. i'm sure some people will be disappointed at the lack of law and hearts. it'll be a few chapters until we catch up to them (though they'll still appear in sophie's daydreams/hallucinations, naturally). i have my lengthy apologies prepared in advance. however, if you're open to sophie and ace shenanigans… i think this will be a very entertaining arc for you! if you'd like a refresher on all the foreshadowing, i recommend rereading chapters 11, 13, 24, & 26.

*big inhale* eight-years-younger me, i'd like you to know that i am finally writing out your crazy ideas.

trivia

as long as they don't waste time dreaming of an easier world: a line taken from dogfish, a poem by mary oliver, rewritten a tad for my own purposes
marine songs/battle prayer: because i love to add worldbuilding flavor to the marines/world gov. i made up the playground songs (and i hope you keen-eyed readers have noticed the irony in them), but if anyone wants to use them for their own fic purposes, go ahead!