He woke up feeling rather heavy and groggy and just plain tired. Clearly, this was a sign that he should just go back to sleep. Except Ace couldn't. Apparently, he was too drunk the night before to sleep in his cabin and now found himself on the main deck with the morning paper and what looked like bird poop on his shoes. It had been a pretty big bird by the looks of it. No matter, he was a man of fire after all. In a second the droppings had been incinerated. He looked around to see that everyone else was still asleep. Ace looked up at the sky only to realize that the sun had yet to rise and that the weather was bleak and all together boring.

Hmm, maybe he should go back to sleep. He lied down and closed his eyes, carefully positioning himself underneath a staircase where no birds could leave any unwelcome "presents", when a loud yell completely eradicated any chance of some shut eye.

"NO!"

And it darn well woke up the entire ship. Ace instantly recognized the shriek to be Marco's but this fact itself was highly unusual. Marco nearly never yelled; Ace could count on both hands how many times he had tried to break Marco's calm disposition to no avail. He grabbed his hat and rushed ahead of the rest of the crew to see firsthand what had caused Marco to scream. And when he got there, he prayed that he was still dreaming and that the nightmare before him was unreal.

A body lied on the floor on its back with its shirt torn, showing his tattoo of the Whitebeard pirates. In the very center of the tattoo, where the skull and crossbones met which symbolized the heart of the crew, was a knife that sank through the tattoo, through the body, and into the floor below. The unique pointed hairstyle was all that it took to give away the identity of the corpse. Lying dead on the floor was 4th division commander of the Whitebeard Army, Thatch.

A collective gasp rose throughout the ship. The others had arrived.

Many ordinary, law-abiding people write off pirates in general as greedy, immoral, and bloodthirsty men/women whose seemingly only purpose in life is to plunder and revel in mayhem. Like many generalizations, there is some truth to this: most pirate crews are composed of vagabonds and lawbreakers, the type of people who love having their lives being led by primal desires: women, alcohol, money, fame, what's not to like about being a pirate?

But Whitebeard's crew is different. Vastly different. Because in Whitebeard's crew, you are not just a disposable member, you are an integral part of the family. Whereas in other crews, shipmates are brother in arms; here in Whitebeard's crew, you are simply brothers, with Whitebeard as your father and your shipmates as your older and younger siblings and the ship, Moby Dick, as your alma mater. The very fabric of the Whitebeard pirates far transcends any ties held by ordinary pirates scouring the sea for treasure. Anytime a mate is killed on Whitebeard's ship, the crew collectively mourns for the passing of their brother. It is because of the fact that the bonds are so close on Whitebeard's ship that the note written on a piece of paper left on Thatch's body is unthinkable.

I killed Thatch

-Marshall D. Teech.

"Teech?" he exhales in disbelief. Teech killed Thatch? Ace couldn't even comprehend the note but the reality slowly trickled into his mind. Teech had committed the single, unforgivable sin on the ship.

Fratricide.

He saw a colossal shadow on the deck and turned around, already knowing there was only one person who could cast a shadow of such size.

"Thatch!" murmured Whitebeard.

Ace couldn't bear to read him the note. He passed Whitebeard the paper and watched him read it and his pupils dilate.

A second later, he saw Whitebeard's expression change from being on the verge of tears like everyone else, to a harsh knowing look. But Ace knew that was not true, no one in a billion years could have guessed Teech would do such a thing.

And quite frankly, Ace could not succeed in not feeling responsible. Teech was under his division. It was his job to oversee that problems would not occur let alone a tragedy of this magnitude. The burden of blame to some extent must be placed on him. But this was not the time to reprimand himself. He would have his whole life to grieve this just as he grieved every day for Sabo. Right now, it was absolutely clear what he must do. For Thatch. And for the dignity of the crew he loves and the pirate captain he endears. Ace had barely taken a step to his raft when Whitebeard interjected his thoughts.

"I know how you feel but just this once, I have a bad feeling. Ace, do not go after Teech."

Quite an odd statement, Ace thought. Did Whitebeard doubt his resolve or his ability to capture Teech? Either way, he would pursue Teech for all their sakes.

"I hear you Pops, but I will do what I must."

With that, he somersaulted across the port bow and onto his raft, using his Mera Mera powers to propel himself backwards enough to get a turbo boost that, in a second, made the Moby Dick, a dot in the horizon behind him. He would not stay long enough for Whitebeard, or Marco, or Jozu, or anyone to convince him otherwise.

The wind now piloting his raft, Ace leaned back and reflected on how things had gone from so well to monumentally catastrophic. Just the other night, the whole crew had partied hard after Thatch had found the Yami Yami No Mi. Now, about a fourth of a day later, Thatch was dead and he was now pursuing Thatch's murderer and longtime friend, Teech.

Speaking to no one in particular, he sighed, "Well, I hope things are at least going well for my kid brother."