I RETURN! It's been a while, and I'm sure some of you know why. I went on hiatus to work on 2 big bang stories. The first, All That Remains, is up in full on my profile if anyone wants to check it out. It has ASL, Law, Corazon, and the most background zombies ever written. The second I wasn't happy with, and I'll be working on in my spare time until it's reached a satisfying conclusion. BUT ANYWAY I'm back from said hiatus, and I thought I would make this my return fic! It was a lot of fun to work on and hopefully it makes up for the long wait.

Also, we now have a cover for the story! I made it a little while ago for my Sabo askblog and did a few edits so now we don't have a generic cover! *cheers*

Enjoy~

Thatch's answer to everything was 'food'. It wasn't that he meant for it to be that way; it just happened. Food was something familiar, something he knew so well it was practically engraved in the walls of his mind. So it went without saying that when things got stressful or confusing, or—or even if he just needed to think, he would steal access to the nearest kitchen and get to work on whatever he could put together with the ingredients in the fridge. Normally this wasn't a problem, especially when Mark was around; that man loved his cooking.

"I'm not hungry, yoi."

Marco… was different. Marco had always been different. Whether it was just a part of his personality or a fact of his devil fruit he'd never eaten what he very obviously needed to maintain a healthy weight. But of course the ass was never punished by this because his devil fruit made him damn-near immortal.

Thatch let out a heavy sigh, drumming a rhythm on the countertop as he watched his friend stare absently at the lenses of his now garbage glasses, a hand knotted in his hair in clear show of stress. He hadn't really gotten much out of Mark since that little display upstairs and the stress led him to drag them both down there for a meal. Shit, he didn't even know which pineapple he was talking to. It had to be Marco, right? Because of the ability? And yet he clearly showed Mark's memories, so…

But this behaviour was something from his pirating days. This was something he knew and this wasn't Mark.

"C'mon, buddy, throw me a bone here," he whined, slouched against the countertop. Mark was currently flicking one of the lenses—for what reason Thatch honestly had no bloody clue. "I know you haven't eaten. You'll feel better if you get some food in ya. Trust me on this. I used to be in charge of the diets of a whole goddamn pirate crew."

"I know, yoi," Mark muttered, eyes blankly fixed to the table, shuddering breath causing his shoulders to tremble. "I remember."

Thatch tensed at that and then let out a bemoaned groan, dragging himself over to drop down into the seat across from Mark. "Damn it, Marc, gimme something to go off of… Ya remember when I stayed with you?" There was a nod. "An' you know that Sabo kid, right? And Luffy?"

Mark paled, dropping his head into his hands to hide the short glimpse of shock Thatch caught on his face. "How the hell did I end up with kids…?"

They weren't getting anywhere. This whole thing was pointless and Thatch knew it, but it wasn't as if he could just change the subject or forget about it, especially when Mark—Marco?—was a hell of a lot more confused. So while a part of him wanted to just ask which friend he was talking to, he wasn't so inconsiderate. Hell, even if he tried he doubted he'd get a straight answer. "You adopted them," came the simple answer, to which he received a dull glare. "What? It's true! Never pegged you for the type to settle down, though… Maybe the old man rubbed off on you."

He never missed Mark's barely-visible flinch but decidedly didn't draw attention to it, watching quietly as Mark slouched in his seat. "I… fuck," he cursed, glaring down at his hands with a worn face. "Everything's mixed up, yoi… I was here last night. In my room, looking through a client's manuscript. But I was…"

He pressed his lips together. "You were… what?"

Another whispered curse saw Mark's face creasing with stress. "I was at the island, yoi—where we buried Ace and Oyaji."

Thatch paused then, eyes widening as he stood up straight. "O-oi…" What did he mean—the old man was dead? He already knew about Ace but Ace was here and so it was okay, and that Sabo brat had been the one writing it all, so…

No, damn it, this wasn't the time. He had to push back the nauseous feeling that just overcame him, at least until later, because the one with him then was his brother and his brother needed him. So he forced a calm, shuddering breath to help recompose and took a seat across from Mark, going over their conversation in his head. He remembered two events from yesterday, neither of which added up, really—almost like they merged. That was… unsettling, but it was also a starting point. "Do you remember either more than the other?"

"No," Mark murmured, rubbing his temple, eyes absently looking over the spread of foods laid out before him. Thatch wondered if he was debating on eating or not. "They're both hazy. But I have my devil fruit, yoi."

"I noticed," Thatch sighed, pouting as he nudged the food closer to Mark only for it to be pushed back. The devil fruit screamed 'Marco' and it should have been a clear-cut case of who this was because of it, but his thoughtless navigation of his home, his familiarity with this world's technology—even the clothes on his back—Mark, through and through. But that was different from what happened to Thatch or Ace—they'd just popped into existence, memories fully intact. For them it was a far less painful transition, but for Marco…

This was what happened when a role was already filled?

Mark shuddered, pinching his brow. "I should get to work. I have a meeting with my boss in the morning."

"Is this really the time to worry about that? Call in sick!"

"I've never missed a day, yoi. I don't want to start now."

Thatch narrowed his eyes. Mark or Marco, one thing they both had in common was dedication. Or, as Thatch liked to call it, unrelenting stubbornness. He pushed one of the bowls closer to Mark once again, a frown on his face. "If you're not gonna take a day off then at least eat, you ass. No telling if there are limits to what your ability can do in this world. And I'm not leaving until we know what the hell's goin' on with you. Got that?"

Mark stared back at him, lips pressed together, and then turned to the food. He picked at it for a little while with the pronged end of his fork before reluctantly taking his first bite. And another. And another. And as he continued to eat whatever objections he had seemed to melt away. He actually reached for some of the other dishes on his own, more like what this world's counterpart would have done, and it was a relief to see.

Thatch let out a triumphant huff, lingering a little longer just to be sure Mark would keep eating before slipping into the other room and shoving his hand into his pocket, pulling out his cellphone. The damn thing still confused the crap out of him but he'd learned enough to make calls and texts, and a call was exactly what he needed to make. The problem was that he didn't have the number…

He was able to find Mark's phone on his desk upstairs, right near the bloodied knife from earlier. The sight made him shudder but he was quick to shrug it off and grab the device, searching until he found Sabo's contact. He noted it down as a precaution, but before he could call his own phone buzzed. He jumped to attention—he swore he'd never get used to that thing—and answered the call. "Y-yeah?"

"Don't 'yeah' me. I thought I said I needed you home to watch Haruta tonight."

Izo. Of course it was Izo. Thatch's shoulders slumped and he let out a sigh. Right, yeah. He'd forgotten about the little runt. "Aw, shit. Sorry, I uh… Somethin' came up. Mark's…" Mark's become a flaming blue turkey. "He's sick. Can't even get outta bed, poor bastard. Thought I'd stop in to help him out."

"Oh really?" The tone was flat, disbelieving. Thatch could remember a time months before when she believed every word he said. But Izo wasn't stupid and she'd caught on quickly, not unlike her pirate counterpart. He heard a sigh through the phone, though, and a slow grin crept across his face. "I'll see if Mom or Dad can spare a few hours. You'll have to pick her up, though. No staying out 'til two in the morning drinkin' at the bar."

His grin stretched and he gave a mock salute, even though she wouldn't be able to see it through the phone. "Aye-aye. Wouldn't dream of it."

She let out another exasperated sigh and then fell to silence for a good half a minute. "I love you, Thatch. Talk to you soon."

Thatch stiffened, shifting in place. He still… wasn't really used to hearing that. Not from Izo. "...Yeah, me too. Bye."

"Be safe."

"I'm always safe, Iz."

There was no answer but the silence on the other side of the phone lingered a few moments before the call ended, and he felt a strange tightness in his chest. He may not have been clone-Thatch but he somehow still felt guilt whenever thinking of the way he just… vanished on her like that. And was dead. Probably. Probably dead. And now Thatch felt like shit. Great.

This was the worst.

Sabo wasn't sure how or why he found himself washing Lawrence's dishes, but he didn't question it. Lawrence was a man of many talents, persuasive in dialogue, and this wasn't the first nor last time he'd find himself conned into assisting the manipulative bastard with whatever mundane task needed to be done. Despite much verbal protest he really never minded… in a way it harkened back to a time many years ago, rooming together. For a little while he could forget about all the nonsense that came later, all of the terrible things that found them where they were today, and just let himself be carried off by the motions of simple, repetitive tasks like this.

That wasn't to say Sabo didn't like where they ended up; a younger him wouldn't have, maybe, finding fault with the different paths they'd both gone down, but he'd grown and liked to think that he'd matured past those thoughts. Life was harsh, things rarely ever went as planned, but… that didn't mean it was bad.

"Almost done in there?"

Sabo's humble thoughts fell away and he rolled his eyes, twisting his torso around to look into the living room where his host currently sat, sipping at a cup of coffee while graded papers. "Give me time, Sire. What, does your floor need to be washed next?"

There was a small, amused smile playing across Lawrence's lips. "No, but perhaps we can go see your therapist about the people you're claiming have come to life."

"Funny," he snorted, shaking his head in dismissal. "We both know she's not in today."

"Always ruining my fun."

"Oh hush, you. Honestly, joking about a genuine concern I have…" Well, that was Lawrence. Sabo didn't mind. He understood perfectly well how that man's mind worked and there was no ill intent behind those words.

Actually, Lawrence had taken the rest of Sabo's rambling surprisingly well. He was quiet and listened until the end, never halting the explanation because of just how absurd it all sounded, and it… well, it'd honestly been nice to just get the whole thing off Sabo's chest, to speak freely to someone he felt he could trust.

He made a special note to visit more often, as thanks.

Falling back into a steady rhythm of work, Sabo was quickly able to finish the last of the dishes and moved over to the rack to begin drying and storing them away. He didn't know his way around the kitchen but, having lived with Lawrence once before, he'd been able to hazard a guess on where everything was supposed to go and was more often than not correct in his assumptions.

It was when he reached the pot that he had to pause, the buzzing of his phone on the counter finding him confused. Maybe Ace was having trouble with something… But after seeing Mark's number he grew even more confused. Was there a problem with the manuscript? Normally he would send an email if that were the case. Well, unless he was currently editing it…

He dried off his hands on the towel and answered the call, pressing the phone against his ear. "Yeah?"

"Ah—hey… Sabo?" He blinked. That was Thatch's voice… Why did Thatch have Mark's phone? It left a bad taste in his mouth, both that and the lilt showing through in Thatch's voice—an accent described in the story that seemed to show through when the man was stressed. Well… that was Sabo's guess, anyway. "Hey, uh—is this a bad time?"

His eyes flickered over to Lawrence who was marking something on one of the papers in red pen, the professor's focus captured in full by the task. "No, not at all. What is it?"

There was a heaved breath, followed by a brief second of silence. "Mark's uh… Mark's not doing so hot right now. I think you should come see him or something. I don't know. I just—thought you should know."

Sabo furrowed his brows, leaning back against the counter as he took in those words, and he didn't want to admit to the sudden spike of anxiety he felt hearing that. "...What do you mean?"

Another shuddering breath later and he could hear movement, shifting—perhaps Thatch was pacing. "I don't know. Really I don't. He's all messed up. His memories, or his thoughts, I don't know. I don't know if he's Mark or if he's Marco or if he's a fucking chicken and he wouldn't eat my food! Mark always eats my food! I can't—"

"Thatch," Sabo called, forcing a stop to the incoherent rambling that he'd honestly been unable to follow with how fast Thatch was speaking. He tapped absently on the countertop, trying to steady his thoughts. "One thing at a time. What happened?"

"...Right, sorry. I'm just worried about my buddy, y'know?"

"It's fine, I get it. Go on."

"He cut himself. But he just—healed. Like Marco. And his thoughts are all messed up, and he's acting differently, and… You're the author. You should be able to do something, right?"

Sabo had frozen at the words and felt cold at the question. It'd been asked so quickly that he hadn't a moment to process what he was hearing. "I-I don't—I just write books. What could I do?"

"I really don't know, kid, but I could use some help over here. Sabo?"

He'd fallen silent, and he could hear Thatch calling him through the phone but he didn't really register it, just trying to make sense of the rambling mess of an explanation he'd been given. A sudden weight of responsibility left him feeling nauseous, and eventually he shook his head, took a deep breath, and pushed off the counter. "I'll be right over. I'm on the other side of town right now, though, so give me twenty minutes. You're at Mark's?"

"Yeah. It's not an emergency, I'm here with him, it's just… he's really confused, kid. I am, too."

"...Yeah. I'll see you soon."

He ended the call with a web of thoughts at the forefront of his mind, questions about just what the hell Thatch meant being the loudest, and it took him more than a few moments to notice Lawrence staring at him. He pressed his lips together, holding his phone to his chest as he shuffled over to his shoes. "S-sorry, Lawrence. Think I need to be headed out… Will you be alright to finish the rest on your own?"

Lawrence narrowed his eyes. "What happened?"

"I honestly don't know." Sabo let out a nervous laugh, eyes downcast to the floor. "He wasn't really making sense… I'll go see what's going on. He's probably overreacting." He shrugged on his coat and opened the door, wasting no time as he stepped out.

"Let me know if you need anything."

That caused him to pause, though, looking back at the man who was seated in the centre of the living room, a hard look on Lawrence's face, and something about it made him feel just a bit less tense.

"...Thanks."

Ace stared down at the set of keys in his hand, blinking, before eventually raising his focus to the brat standing before him. "...You're just gonna go home? Like that?"

"Yeah," Luffy answered, a smile on his face that kind of left the whole evening feeling weird.

His blank expression slowly morphed into a frown as he pocketed the keys. "I thought y'wanted to say goodbye to Sabo."

"I do!" Luffy stated, pouting. "But he hasn't texted me yet… He said he would when he started heading back, and I gotta get home to study."

Ace heaved a sigh, ruffling the kid's hair. "Alright, brat. You take care of yourself."

"I will. Thanks, Ace. And sorry."

"Ah, don't worry 'bout it."

With one last grin and wave Luffy was taking off down the street and Ace was left standing there awkwardly, wondering what the hell he should so with his time now. Fuck, he didn't even know if he could remember the way back. Damn it all, the little shit could have at least given him some direction; the city was like a bloody maze. And then he felt like an idiot because he was a goddamn pirate and was used to exploring weird islands on his own with little direction.

Of course, when he was exploring islands he had no clear destination, and when traversing the seas he could at least use a log pose to navigate towards land.

Damn it.

With a heaved sigh he took a look around the park. They had been at the park for a while… it wasn't all that great. There wasn't anything there but some weird equipment that Luffy explained was for kids, a few benches and a lot of grass. Some trees, some statues, that was about it. Though admittedly he could see the appeal, especially for the people stuck living there. Everything was paved over, most of the buildings were tall and intruding… it was like a break from all of that. But it still sucked.

He lifted himself up off the bench and started wandering back the way they'd come from. Well, it was a start. He at least sort of recognised the street, but he wished that he'd been paying more attention on the way there. This area was a little quieter than the one he'd went through with Sabo. The shops were smaller, and it was actually a bit less busy. There weren't as many of those screaming metal death traps, either.

His steps slowed to a crawl as he passed in front of the large window of one of the shops, and on display were a whole bunch of unique-looking instruments. They were similar to the ones from his world with just a few differences, and he felt a smile tug at his lips as he looked over the guitars. Music had always been a big thing on the ship. His brothers looked for any excuse to celebrate, and every night was lively and boisterous. Izo would sometimes play the flute, Vista the guitar… they used to have a piano, before one of Ace's attempts on the old man's life found it turning to rubble within a blazing inferno. Oops.

His smile faded and he pulled himself away to keep walking. Every time he thought about back home he was reminded of Sabo, and of the book, and it all left a sour taste in his mouth. All those memories, all those people being fake just felt so… wrong. They had hopes and fears and dreams just like all the people passing him by on the street, but all of that was just supposed to amount to some words on a page?

He'd kept going back to the issue whenever he was alone. Every time he came to accept it something else would tug at his thoughts and leave him doubting it all over again… He knew he shouldn't, that Sabo proved it and that he couldn't really argue with the evidence, but…

It didn't feel right.

Ace shook his head and looked up, reading the street sign. Alright… this would have been much more helpful if he knew what street the apartment was on. Whatever, he turned onto it anyway, figuring he couldn't get any more lost than he already was.

A sobering thought was Thatch's appearance… He'd been there a hell of a lot longer than Ace, he was real and tangible and the only proof Ace really had that all of those memories they held together were true. But he was dead, and Ace was dead…

If only catalysts were making it into that world then who was next?

Sabo stood in the driveway a few moments, staring up at a house that he honestly hadn't visited in years. He could remember playing out front with Luffy when he was a kid, running across a well manicured lawn barefoot as the little runt chased him. There used to be an ice cream shop down the road with a park across the street where he would take his little brother on the weekends, and out back there was a swing set Mark had built for them to play on…

He cursed himself for getting sentimental and walked up onto the porch, knocking twice. When there was no immediate answer he grew anxious, wondering if perhaps something happened since the call, and his worry brought him to try the doorknob. To his surprise it was unlocked, turning with his hand. That… was a bit unnerving. Mark always locked his door—he was obsessive about it.

Deciding not to wait, Sabo pushed the door open and stepped inside, leaving his things against the wall. There was a light on in the kitchen, so automatic thought had him making his way towards it. "Mark—"

The moment he stepped into the room he was shoved against the wall, a strong arm against his throat blocking his airway and causing him to choke. The first thing he saw was a bright blue glow as his hands came up to claw at the arm, trying to pull it away, but it remained firm with surprising strength.

Next he saw heated blue eyes, staring at him with so much disgust that he was taken aback. Ah… Mark.

"Woah, woah!" An even stronger set of arms shoved at Mark's chest, trying to pry him off. "The hell has gotten into you?!"

Mark didn't listen, fixated on his victim, and Sabo's thrashing halted even despite his struggling breaths as a chill ran through him at the stare. No matter how much they fought or how much the grew apart, Mark never looked at him like that. There was hatred in those eyes.

"Enjoy playing with people's lives, yoi?" The tone was flat and dead, portraying no emotion yet leaving Sabo thoughtless as his efforts failed and body went limp.

Thatch was still trying to pry Mark away and it seemed the only thing keeping him in place was determination. But the moment Thatch slapped him upside the head it caused the force to dull a bit, enough for Sabo to take a gasping breath.

"Let go, Marc! That's your son you're choking!"

Mark froze at those words, his eyes widened slightly from their usual lidded gaze, and he lowered his hand. Thatch took that moment to shove Mark away as Sabo slid down the wall, wide-eyed and pale as he stared at his father's form and tried to catch his breath.

Suddenly this had gotten very real.

Thatch crouched before Sabo, letting out an anxious breath. "You alright there, kid? Does it hurt?"

"N-no…" Sabo's eyes were still on Mark, who'd dropped into one of the chairs with his head in his hands. Thatch's incoherent explanation from before was starting to make sense and a growing surge of fear bubbled within him. He tried to shake it off. "I-I'm fine. Really."

Thatch heaved a sigh of relief and helped him up before walking across the room to slap Mark across the back of the head a second time. "You mind explaining what the hell that was about? Because I'm really curious."

Mark lifted his head from his hands to reveal his usual blank face, smoothed out from the incident just moments earlier. "It was nothing."

"Nothing? Marc, buddy, that was not 'nothing'. You were choking your own goddamn kid." Thatch shook his head with a muttered curse, turning eyes back on Sabo as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry 'bout that… I really don't know what came over him."

"It's fine," he replied quickly, but the words were empty and meaningless as he fixed his attention to his father's form. He barely heard the words being exchanged and the only thought he really had was that Mark had never done something like that. Violent? Him? His words were cut-throat but his actions had never been anything but gentle. Even Marco was—

...Ah. Marco.

Marco, the character who'd lost members of his family to an avoidable war against the Marines.

Mark, who knew that Sabo had conjured the entire thing from imaginative thought.

Sabo leaned back against the wall to help keep his footing, eyeing his father as his thoughts fell into place, and his stomach dropped.

Oh.

Thatch heaved a sigh. "It's not 'fine', brat. Damn it, Marc, I never thought that you would—"

"...No, it is," Sabo continued in a mutter, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I-I deserved it."

Blue eyes lifted to meet his, a sharpness to them that kept his unease running strong. It didn't make sense, really. Ace had just… popped into existence with the writing of his execution. Thatch popped into the world in much the same way after being killed by Teach. So why was Marco different? Why were Marco and Mark… merged like this? That had to be it, right? It had to be. That was the only reason he could think of for Mark to act like that.

Sabo released a shuddering breath and slowly moved over to take a seat at the table. He was quiet, waiting to see if the phoenix would speak first. But there was nothing and he found himself straightening his back, trying to pull himself away from his thoughts to meet Mark with that same neutrality he'd always expected to receive. "...Hey. Recognise me?"

Mark sat up to match Sabo's posture, and as the moments passed his anger seemed to settle, eyes lidded to express what could only be interpreted as disinterest. "Naturally."

Sabo offered a polite smile, ignoring the confused look Thatch was giving them. He placed his hands in his lap, folding one over the other to keep from fidgeting at the awkwardness. "Good. That's… good. But I get the feeling you recognise me more for writing the books than for being your son."

The glare was back for only a moment before Mark sighed, running a hand through his hair. It was the only visible sign of stress and exhaustion he wore, the rest hidden calmly away behind practiced neutrality. "No, I remember you. And Luffy. But…" He stared long and hard at his hand as he lowered it onto the tabletop, concentrating, and eventually tiny hues of blue and yellow swirled about his fingertips. "I'm also remembering this, yoi. My power, and my family."

Sabo nodded hesitantly, trying not to stare at the flames too long. "How did it start? Was it just—all at once, everything?"

There was a stretch of silence. Well, not really silence; Thatch, hating awkward situations, was muttering on about what happened when he got there and everything that went on since as he started preparing a pot of coffee, probably in an attempt to keep himself busy to ease the tension. But then, eventually, Marco slouched back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. "No. My memories are mixed up, but… I think the powers came first. My glasses were worsening my eyesight, yoi. I stopped wearing them. I went without eating most of the day, and just started to think…"

"About the power of the phoenix?" Sabo pushed, earning a nod. "So you cut yourself."

"And it healed, yoi. I called Thatch, but by the time he got there everything started to blur together."

Sabo frowned. So this… this was Mark, there was no doubt about that. It wasn't like the case with Thatch where someone went missing and he took their place…

Wait.

His stole a glance at the man currently grabbing three coffee mugs out of the cupboard, brows furrowed in thought before he shook his head. No, that thought could wait. For now he wanted to focus on his father.

As he listened to Mark's words he found himself overwhelmed with guilt. Whatever was happening was his fault. And this was the start to a long night.

To my lovelies~

Pachimew: Plot twist! *dun dun duuun*

m00nxrabbit: Yes, I am back! You'll have to wait a while for some more explanation on what's going on, sadly.

Kitsune Foxfire: Psh, we all know that I edit terribly. I expected there to be spelling mistakes XD

XxFire-PhoenixxX: Ahahaha what great timing XD

Cam: Well hopefully this keeps you sated for now!

MaskedPyro: I'm happy that you're happy!

Zyrothe: Well, their theory is that catalysts are the ones making it through. So either Marco's a catalyst in a different way or they're not entirely correct about that.

lunanime: Aww don't cry :'D I will do my best to keep bringing updates when I can *salutes*

123: Here it is~

Karneval: Yeeeeah sorry about that one year delay... I honestly never realized, I just get so caught up in things that I forget to keep track of how long it's been. Hope this helps with your questions! ...And probably gives you more.

Tray D. Sheila: I'm glad you were able to get back into it so easily! I hope to get back into some of my old stories more and update them, but I also don't want to neglect my new stories, so I'm gonna experiment and try to find a balance. It may take a while, but I'll figure it out.

iwaizumihajimeme: YES HE IS FRIEND, YES HE IS

Guest: I LOVE YOU TOO HUN, I HOPE YOU ENJOYED

The Magical Kaitou KID: Things are getting really messed up in their reality XD

Bluh bleh blegh: Aw, thank you hun :)

Vergina-spva: Mysteries are the foundation of curiosity, and curiosity is the foundation of entertainment. Can't go too long without some questions surfacing in the plot XD I'm happy to finally be back to writing this story, it's a lot of fun.

Ashlielle: Hopefully this helps with at least a FEW of your questions XD

BeASlumberingDragon: Ahhh so glad you liked it hun!

emygrl99: You have some pretty interesting theories there, we'll see how they hold up in future chapters ;) As for Mark and Sabo's past, I'm hoping to get another flashback in next chapter so hopefully that'll help shed some light on it.

Reign of Rayne: Aww you're so sweet ;v; I'm really happy that people have started enjoying Mark's character, I remember at the start people were pretty skeptical of his attitude and position as Sabo's father (totally understandable) so it's nice to see people starting to take interest in him. I am definitely still enjoying writing about this!

CeKhay: Confusion is the best way to feel when reading because it shows just how much more there is to discover before the story's over XD Here is the next chapter! Divide was just updated in December with the special, so I'll be focusing on a few other stories that are in even more need of an update before getting back to it :)

Rayany Amor: There won't be a surplus of characters from the books added into the modern world, but I can say that you'll see the 'real world' influences of more characters, and Whitebeard will be one of them. Corazon I'm actually undecided on. I have two things I could do to add him, but I'm going to mull it over a bit more before deciding if he'll be in the fic or not.

NovaTheHedgehog7500: Ahhhhh you're too sweet, thank you ;v;/ Hopefully things become more clear with future updates.

xTheCherryx: Very happy you enjoy it hun! Honestly, I'm not sure who you should feel worse for in this, they're all in some pretty shitty situations. But they're making due the best I can. Sabo's past is coming up, and Lawrence, well... Lawrence will be in and out of the story, but he has a specific role to play.

PutYourNameOnIt: We'll see about that XD Searching for hints is always a good idea.

Move-2-da-beat-femme: Yeah, Mark's in a preeetty crummy situation right now.

Traffy. D: Your English is actually pretty good!

Kurogane Tsubasa: Yay, someone saw it coming! I actually have been trying to subtly hint at it for a while now but I'm not sure I did a very good job of it X'D Ahahaha yeah, I'll admit it, I'm TERRIBLE at summaries. If I could I would get a summary ghost writer because I just never know what to put. And I'm very long-winded.

Guest (2): Well I guess it could be seen that way? X'D

LoonyTuned: Hopefully this chapter cleared things up! A bit...

Elliot23: Here's an update!

Alone at Home: In a way XD

Silver Shadowbreeze: Aww you flatter me ;v; Don't worry, I'm still writing this and most of my other stories. Sometimes I take hiatuses and sometimes life slows down updates, but I always come back.

FreedomJones: Here's the update hun!

too-much-inspiration: You're very welcome hun!

LittleRuky: I'm happy you enjoyed XD Here's the new chapter!

Adieu~