Onigashima, Wanokuni
In the heart of Wano's most volatile region, nestled within the living bones of an ancient, still-breathing volcano, lay one of the most secret and secure installations in Kaido's entire dominion. The facility was less a lab and more a monstrous fusion of weapon foundry, research facility, and subterranean prison.
Carved out of black volcanic rock and reinforced with Wano's rarest alloys, the facility was impervious to conventional assaults. The walls pulsed with heat from the magma veins that ran just meters beneath the floor, and every surface sweated steam and soot. The oppressive air hummed with energy—raw, unstable, and alive.
Access was restricted to Kaido's most trusted inner circle—Queen, Caesar, and a small handful of elite scientists and engineers abducted from across the world. The entrance was concealed beneath a derelict shrine in the mountains, guarded by the elites of the Beast Pirates and mechanized Oni—one of Queen's own hybrid cybernetic beasts—who judges all who approach.
"Shirororororo… finally… finally, I've done it!"
Caesar Clown's maniacal laughter echoed through the cold, metallic corridors of his laboratory, mixing with the low hum of the generators and the hiss of pressurized gas escaping containment tubes. His wide, crazed eyes gleamed with unfiltered euphoria as he held up the gleaming, spiral-patterned fruit—a grotesque fusion of science and sorcery.
"I've done what even Vegapunk couldn't achieve," he declared, his voice trembling with a mix of awe and madness.
Until this moment, every artificial Devil Fruit Caesar had synthesized had been a disastrous gamble. His previous creations had twisted their unfortunate consumers into grotesque aberrations—monstrous amalgamations of flesh and fury that could barely cling to life. Most didn't survive the transformation at all, their bodies collapsing into pulsing, formless heaps of organic failure. Each casualty had been another whisper in the storm of his ambition—a necessary sacrifice, as far as Caesar was concerned.
But this time… this time was different.
Cradled in his gloved hands was not a grotesque failure, but a functioning Zoan-type Devil Fruit—stable, complete, and, for the first time in his tumultuous experiments, free of catastrophic side effects. It was a basic Zoan model, nothing flashy or rare, but it was the first successful prototype. And more importantly, it was a proof of concept. A foothold in the impossible.
The first step toward revolution.
"Soon, ancient Zoans… and then—mythical," Caesar muttered under his breath, a mad glint in his eyes. "This world isn't ready for what's coming."
From the far end of the lab, a deep, metallic chuckle broke his reverie.
"Don't pop the champagne just yet," Queen snorted, not even looking up from the array of wires he was threading into his own arm. Sparks flew as he adjusted a cybernetic implant, his mechanical fingers twitching with precision. "Let's see if the damn thing works first. We don't want another lucky soul bursting into flames the second they take a bite."
Queen's words were half-joking, but the weight behind them was real. He knew—perhaps better than anyone—how much Kaido had invested in this project.
After his crushing defeat at the hands of Whitebeard years ago, Kaido had changed. The reckless brute who once threw himself into death's arms for sport had grown colder, sharper, more calculating. Gone was the beast who believed himself invincible. In his place stood a warlord with a purpose, consolidating power across Wano's seas, slowly rebuilding the empire he had nearly lost.
He wasn't chasing glory anymore. He was planning conquest. And Caesar's breakthrough might very well be the first move in a long, brutal game.
"You know Kaido's been waiting for this," Queen said, his voice low, almost reverent. "He doesn't just want an army of beasts. He wants gods. And if you can make that happen, Caesar... well, then maybe even the world government won't know what hit 'em."
Caesar smiled, but it wasn't warmth that curved his lips. It was the cold satisfaction of a man standing on the edge of something monstrous.
"They called me a lunatic," he whispered, eyes still fixed on the fruit. "But soon… they'll call me a godmaker."
Just as Caesar reveled in his moment of triumph, the sharp scent of chemicals still hanging in the air, a deep, thunderous voice echoed from the entrance to the lab—low, gravelly, and unmistakably ominous.
"Godmaker…?"
Kaido's scoff carried the weight of a warlord unimpressed. The towering figure stepped into the lab's sweltering heat, ducking beneath the steel archway like a beast entering its den. Behind him strode two shadows—King, silent and unreadable as ever, and Ryuji, a man who had carved his name into the very bones of Wano.
Once a nameless enforcer, Ryuji had become one of Kaido's most trusted core officers—a terror among the samurai and a nightmare in the seas surrounding Wano. His methods were ruthless, surgical in their cruelty, and forged through years of relentless training under Kaido's iron discipline.
The veins of Busoshoku and Kenbunshoku Haki ran deep in him now, and his command over his Mythical Zoan Devil Fruit had only grown more precise, more terrifying. Rumors whispered that he had uncovered abilities even Kaido hadn't mastered—abilities tied to the ancient origin of his beastly form.
Ryuji's eyes flicked to the fruit in Caesar's trembling hands, then to the scientist's wide, fanatic grin. A smirk tugged at the edge of his mouth.
"We haven't even tested your so-called success," he said, his voice laced with cold mockery. "And here you are, dreaming of making gods."
His tone was laced with contempt, but carefully measured. To Ryuji, Caesar's ambition to replicate mythical Zoans was a fantasy soaked in arrogance. He knew the power such fruits held. He embodied that power. It wasn't something one could simply fabricate in a lab like mixing chemicals in a flask.
Still, he kept his skepticism buried beneath that mocking smile. Because he also knew one undeniable truth—Kaido had poured everything into this project. His pride, his resources, even his alliances. The world believed Kaido incapable of compromise, but the truth was far more dangerous: he only compromised when it served his vision of domination.
He had even bartered with the World Government, trading rare Seastone harvested from Wano's mines in exchange for the forbidden knowledge and experimental components Caesar needed.
Ryuji didn't trust Caesar. He didn't believe in delusions of artificial gods or scientific miracles. To him, such dreams were the fantasies of men too weak to shape the world through strength alone. Ryuji had only one dream—to bring death and disaster upon the world. His loyalty to Kaido wasn't born of reverence or belief; it was a calculated pact. Under the Beast Pirates' banner, he could grow stronger, slaughter freely, and sow chaos across Wano's lands and seas without constraint.
But deep within his blood-soaked heart, his wrath had never dulled.
Should the day ever come when he believed himself powerful enough to challenge Kaido, he would not hesitate. There would be no hesitation, no warning—only a single heartbeat before he bathed the halls of Onigashima in fire and blood. The Beast Pirates, their ambition, their legacy—they were all fuel for his eventual apocalypse.
For now, though, he wore the mask of loyalty. He spread ruin in Kaido's name, his blade drenched in conquest. But behind every strike, every mission, burned a quiet fury—a promise to the world that its end was coming.
Even so, he remained wary of Kaido's vision. Because as much as he dreamed of destruction, he knew that if Kaido truly succeeded in creating an army of divine monsters—gods forged in fire and fury—then the world wouldn't burn at his hand. It would already be ashes.
The lab fell into silence, broken only by the bubbling of a nearby containment vat. Kaido stepped forward, his gaze fixed on the Devil Fruit. His shadow loomed large over Caesar.
"Show me," Kaido growled. "Or I'll find someone else who can."
"We'll need a volunteer, Kaido-sama..." Caesar stammered, his voice cracking as he took a cautious step back. The air around him had grown suffocating, thick with killing intent radiating from the towering figure before him. Every instinct in Caesar screamed to flee, but his legs betrayed him—rooted in place by sheer dread.
He had seen Kaido enraged before, but this… this was different. There was a finality in the silence, a quiet fury that told Caesar the Emperor of Beasts was standing at the very edge of his patience. If this experiment failed—if this fruit turned out to be another grotesque disaster—then there was a very real chance Caesar would not leave the lab alive.
He swallowed hard, glancing toward Queen in desperation. The two had once been colleagues—scientific minds from the same era, drawn into Kaido's orbit by ambition and necessity. Perhaps now, Queen would intervene, offer a word of support.
But Queen only chuckled, his mechanical arm sparking as he adjusted a dial on his chest. He lit a cigar with a flick of his finger, exhaling smoke with visible disinterest. "This is your show, Caesar," he muttered, turning his back. "Don't drag me into your mess."
Caesar's gut twisted. "No need."
Kaido's voice cut through the tension like the strike of a blade. He turned slowly, his expression unreadable as he glanced at King—silent, unmoving, like a stone sentinel beside him.
"Bring him," Kaido said.
King nodded once and strode out of the lab without a word. Moments later, he returned—dragging a blood-soaked figure across the steel floor.
The man trailed streaks of crimson behind him, his limbs hanging limp, his body broken but not yet lifeless. It was clear he had fought to the bitter end. Deep gashes marred his body, bones jutted at unnatural angles, and his breathing came in ragged gasps. Yet in his dimming eyes still flickered the faint glow of defiance—a samurai's spirit, unbroken even at the edge of death.
Caesar's heart sank.
This was no ordinary prisoner. This was a Daimyo, one of the few remaining lords who dared rise against Kaido's rule. Even after all these years since Oden's fall, Wano's resistance had never truly died. Its samurai still clung to their honor like a blade to its sheath.
Caesar's frown deepened—not out of pity, but frustration. The subject was far from ideal. Damaged flesh, weakened vitals. He needed a healthy body to properly gauge the success of his creation. A clean slate to test whether this devil fruit truly worked as intended.
He turned once more to Kaido, voice shaking slightly.
"Kaido-sama… the subject, he… he's not in the right condition to endure the transformation. Perhaps we could choose a volunteer from within the Beast Pirates? I'm sure there are many eager to—"
He didn't finish. The entire lab shuddered as Kaido brought his kanabo down with a thunderous crack, the weapon embedding itself into the steel floor, hairline fractures spiderwebbing across the ground.
Kaido's expression was twisted in a cruel sneer, the flames of fury dancing in his eyes.
"Pray that he survives, Caesar," he growled, voice like distant thunder. "Because his fate… may very well be tied to yours."
A beat of silence. The words hung in the air like the toll of a death bell.
"If he dies, I won't need to waste another fruit—or another breath—on you."
Caesar's knees almost buckled. His throat went dry, but there was no choice left. His pride, his genius, his life—all now balanced on the edge of a single, irreversible gamble.
Trembling, he stepped toward the broken samurai who lay barely conscious, his blood painting the floor in dark pools. Caesar knelt, hesitated for only a moment… then pressed the artificial devil fruit to the man's cracked lips.
"Come on," he whispered, more to himself than to the dying warrior. "Be the proof... don't fail me now."
Minutes ticked by like hours. The lab was silent, save for the faint hum of machines and the crackling of Queen's half-lit cigar. Even he, who moments ago had been engrossed in his tinkering, now watched with unblinking eyes. All attention had shifted to the broken samurai lying motionless on the cold, blood-slick floor.
Caesar clenched his fists, sweat dripping from his brow. He could feel the noose tightening.
Devil fruits always act fast, he thought. A few seconds after ingestion. Maybe a minute, tops. But this... this delay was unnatural. Panic clawed at his gut. He was moments from falling to his knees, ready to plead for his life, when—
The samurai stirred. A low murmur ran through the room as the man's mangled fingers twitched. His chest rose slowly, then with strength. Under everyone's astonished gaze, the gaping wounds across his body began to close, muscle fibers knitting, skin re-forming. It wasn't an instant miracle, but it was unmistakable—the natural regeneration of a Zoan-type Devil Fruit.
Caesar's eyes widened.
"It worked..." he whispered. "It actually worked."
A thunderous sound shattered the stillness.
"WORORORORORO!!!"
Kaido's laughter roared through the lab like an earthquake, making the very walls tremble with its force. The Emperor's voice carried the weight of vindication, of a hunter finally tasting blood after years of failure.
For years, Kaido had poured resources, manpower, and blood into this cursed project. He had suffered Caesar's excuses, tolerated Queen's sarcasm, and endured countless failed beasts, twisted monsters, and mindless husks. He had compromised with the World Government, trading precious seastone for rare resources that Caesar needed and the World Government had monopolized—all for this moment.
And now, finally, it was here. His eyes gleamed with primal glee as he stepped closer. But then—the samurai lunged. Still bleeding, still battered, but burning with newfound strength, the man let out a defiant roar and seized a metal rod from the floor. With reckless fury, he swung it at Kaido's head.
No one moved. Not King. Not Queen. Not even Caesar. They all knew what would happen. Kaido didn't flinch. His arm shot forward like a cannon, backhanding the samurai across the room. The man crashed into a table of instruments, metal and glass exploding in a storm of sparks and shattered pieces. Caesar winced as several of his tools were destroyed, but wisely held his tongue.
"Good…" Kaido rumbled, grinning like a wolf over cornered prey. "It seems you still have some fight in you. Now show me—show me the true power of the artificial devil fruits!"
The samurai roared again, this time deeper, guttural—inhuman. His form began to twist, ripple, and expand. Bones cracked. Muscles stretched. In a matter of seconds, his silhouette became monstrous. Black fur erupted across his body as claws extended like daggers and fangs jutted from his jaw.
He had become a massive black panther, easily five meters tall at the shoulder. Its glowing yellow eyes locked onto Kaido's throat. With a growl that shook the air, the beast lunged, fangs bared to rip the Emperor apart. Kaido didn't move. Not until the last second.
In a blur, his arm snapped out, seizing the panther by the throat. The force of the grab stopped the beast mid-air, legs kicking wildly, claws raking the air with desperate slashes. But they did nothing—not a scratch on Kaido's skin.
"Hah... you really thought that would work?" Kaido chuckled. The panther snarled and writhed in his grip, tail thrashing, claws shredding the steel walls—but it was helpless. Kaido's hand was like a vice made of stone, slowly tightening around the creature's thick neck.
The others watched in grim fascination. Queen exhaled smoke through his nose, muttering, "Damn... brutal as ever." King said nothing—his cold eyes locked on the panther, unmoved.
Caesar trembled, equal parts fear and awe. Kaido squeezed harder. Bones cracked beneath his fingers. The panther's roars became choked gasps. Its massive paws swiped weakly now. Kaido's grin widened as he deliberately slowed the killing, savoring the moment.
The final snap echoed like thunder. The beast's body went limp. Its massive form crashed to the ground, slowly shrinking back to the broken, lifeless body of the samurai. Dead. Kaido stood over the corpse, eyes blazing. He turned to Caesar, now pale and trembling, yet still standing.
"You've done well, Caesar," Kaido said, voice like rolling thunder. "This is a step forward. Finally... something real."
Kaido turned, his gaze drifting across the lab—not toward anyone, but toward the shadows at the far end of the chamber. A flicker of intuition, perhaps. Or something deeper—a beast's instinct honed by years of battle and blood.
There, half-shrouded in darkness, lay a crate of discarded fruits—failed experiments, remnants of Caesar's countless mistakes. Most were ordinary in appearance, devoid of power, little more than wasted resources.
But Kaido's eyes narrowed. One of them was changing. A dull, unremarkable fruit—once no different from the rest—began to pulse with a faint, otherworldly glow. Slowly, hypnotically, intricate swirls and patterns began etching themselves across its surface, crawling like veins of flame beneath its skin. The fruit shivered once, then solidified, now unmistakably marked with the distinct, unnatural signature of an artificial Zoan.
It had reformed. Kaido stepped forward, the weight of his presence pressing down like a mountain as even Queen paused mid-motion, and Caesar's breath caught in his throat. This... this wasn't supposed to happen.
"Impossible..." Caesar muttered, eyes wide with disbelief. "It—It reincarnated...?"
The implications hit him like a tidal wave. Real devil fruits were known to be reborn elsewhere upon the death of their users, but none of his synthetic fruits had ever done that—until now. This wasn't just replication. This was evolution.
His artificial fruit had mimicked the cycle of true devil fruits, transferring its essence to a new host, birthing itself anew. Kaido stood over the crate, staring down at the reborn fruit. The chamber felt colder now, quieter. Even the usual mechanical hum seemed to recede as if the lab itself held its breath.
Then, Kaido smiled. A wide, fearsome grin that showed not joy—but promise.
"Wororororo..." he chuckled, voice low and thunderous. "Now it's real." He turned back to Caesar, eyes gleaming with fire. "You didn't just copy a Devil Fruit... you created one."
Then, a command—simple, final, undeniable:
"Begin with the next phase…I want an Ancient Zoan. And then... a Mythical one." He looked back over his shoulder, eyes boring into Caesar's soul.
"Don't fail me again."
Caesar nodded, numb with terror—and yet, somewhere deep inside, a spark of mad pride flickered to life.
"Kaido-sama…" Caesar began, his voice laced with the familiar unease of someone about to make a bold request. But this time, it wasn't fear that slowed his tongue—it was the weight of ambition.
He straightened his spine. Now that he had succeeded—truly succeeded—in creating a functioning Zoan Devil Fruit, the possibilities were endless. His value within the Beast Pirates would skyrocket. No longer just a mad scientist lingering at the edge of Kaido's patience—he would become indispensable, the architect of gods.
Even the World Government—those dogs who once branded him a criminal—would welcome him back with open arms if they knew what he had accomplished.
"Now that I've proven the Zoan model works," he said, voice gaining strength, "I'll need more resources—far more. Unlike regular Zoans, Ancient types require careful cultivation. Delicate bio-nurturing… precision engineering… It's far beyond what these imbecile samurai in Wano can comprehend, much less assist with."
He paused, then added with a glint of calculation in his eye:
"But if we had the assistance of the Tontatta Tribe… then we could accelerate the production. Results would multiply tenfold."
The chamber fell into silence. Kaido's brow furrowed slightly at the mention of the Tontatta Tribe. This wasn't the first time Caesar had made this suggestion. He had been hounding Kaido for months, claiming that the diminutive race possessed an innate genius for biotechnology, with skills so refined they could manipulate life itself.
According to intelligence gathered through black market whispers and deep-cover agents, the Tontatta homeland had most likely been subsumed into the territory of Dressrosa—the iron domain of the Donquixote Family.
But therein lay the problem. Kaido and Doflamingo shared no love. Only history. Bloody history. Still, Caesar's success couldn't be ignored now. Not anymore. The artificial fruit hadn't just mimicked Zoan powers—it had rebirthed itself, just like a real Devil Fruit.
Kaido's mind, as fierce and brutal as it was calculating, turned over the possibilities. With the Tontatta's biotechnology under Caesar's control… Ancient Zoans could become a reality. Perhaps even Mythical ones.
Queen, leaning lazily against a console with a half-lit cigar dangling from his mouth, finally broke the silence.
"Maybe it's time we parley with the Donquixote brothers," he said with a shrug. "Doflamingo's ambitious. He might just see the benefit in working with us."
But Kaido didn't speak. He didn't need to. Both Queen and Caesar could feel the tension coiling off him like a storm held at bay. Only King knew the full depth of the hatred Kaido harbored toward Doflamingo. The betrayal. The blood. The empire that could've been theirs—fractured by pride and war.
Still… war was not an option right now. Kaido's rise to dominance had been interrupted once by Whitebeard. His body bore the scars of that near-death encounter. Now awakened, his power surged beyond anything he once imagined—but he was not yet ready to provoke another clash.
Especially not when the Donquixote Family still stood at the peak of power, with Rosinante said to have returned from the dead and Donquixote Doflamingo still sitting upon the throne as one of the reigning Emperors.
To make matters worse, with the formation of the Triumvirate Pact—a loose, temporary alliance between Doflamingo, Scarlett, and of Whitebeard—even a single misstep could provoke a war that would devour the New World whole.
Kaido turned slowly to his right hand—King, the silent blade, the shadow of fire and blood.
"Your thoughts?"
King stepped forward, his voice low but firm. "Let me go. Let me approach them myself." Both Caesar and Queen looked up in surprise.
"You think Doflamingo will even entertain a proposal?" Queen asked. King's eyes were cold. Focused.
"He might not. But Rosinante… he will listen."
Kaido's gaze darkened, for he held a much deeper hatred towards Rosinate because of those humiliating defeats he had faced against him. Rumors claimed Rosinante had fallen in Sabaody.
But King never believed that lie. He had met Rosinante once—years ago, in another life, while still serving under the marine hero, Garp. And in that moment, he had known one thing: Rosinante was a man the world could not kill.
"If we clash now, we risk everything." King continued. "But if we win the Tontatta from within—if we gain their trust, their talents—we gain the edge no one else possesses. Let me be the hand that opens the door… before we break it down. We just need to form an alliance with the Donquixote on the surface…. Getting close to them will also help us find ways to destroy them.."
Kaido studied him for a long moment. Then, with a nod that shook the very air, he spoke:
"Go. Offer them cooperation." His voice was calm, but beneath it, rage seethed. "But if they refuse…"
His kanabo smashed into the floor, shattering the steel foundation beneath it like glass.
"Burn them all."