The sound wasn't a roar but a physical punch to the chest – a subsonic WHUMP that vibrated eyeballs and made molars ache. The serpent-thing, freed from its shattered prison, crashed onto the flooded laboratory floor in a tidal wave of stinking yellow fluid and glittering glass shards. For a moment, it was chaos incarnate: a segmented monstrosity the color of diseased mustard, thick as an ancient mangrove trunk, thrashing blindly. Its circular beak of overlapping metallic plates gnashed at the air, throwing ropes of corrosive spit that hissed where they struck the metal floor. Dozens of whip-like tentacles tipped with dripping stingers lashed wildly, pulverizing sparking consoles and shredding dangling cables.
The nine Grim Reapers hovered around the chaos, their spectral forms stark against the flickering emergency strips casting long, dancing shadows. They didn't retreat, but a subtle shift rippled through their silent ranks. The Heaven's Heralds, their nebulae robes swirling like captured galaxies, tilted their blank gold masks towards each other in a silent conference. The Purgatory Arbiters, half-rotted jaws working soundlessly, seemed to recoil minutely as the serpent slammed its armored bulk against a buckled support pillar. The Hell's Executioners rattled their shadow-dripping chains, the blue flames in their eye sockets flaring brighter – not with menace, but with something akin to startled agitation. One of the Executioners, the one who had headbutted the cylinder, drifted backward, its chains held defensively before its skeletal form. The perfect, chilling coordination they'd shown against the lesser horrors was gone, replaced by a palpable sense of uncertainty.
"Damn it," Marya hissed under her breath, her knuckles white on the Key of Thresholds. The tri-colored blade pulsed erratically, the starlight, mirrored steel, and decaying teeth facets flickering like a dying neon sign. The glacial void-fog around her ankles churned violently.
Rayleigh, standing beside her with his simple sword held loosely, raised a bushy eyebrow. "What is it, girl? Trouble in paradise with your spectral entourage?"
Marya didn't look at him, her mismatched eyes – one showing drifting souls in golden fields, the other the damned burning in infernal flames – fixed on the unfolding disaster. "They let something loose. Something they can't just erase like the others." Her voice was layered, echoing with the weight of the dead, but strained.
Galit Varuna adjusted his cracked glasses, his long neck coiling tight as he observed her faltering formation. "Does this imply a lack of absolute control, Mist Wielder? Are these extensions of your will... autonomous?"
"Think of them as... amplified echoes," Marya ground out, sweat beading on her forehead despite the unnatural cold radiating from her. "Reflections of certain... aspects. Vengeance. Judgment. Annihilation. They have their own... inclinations." She took a step forward, her boots crunching on frozen sludge. "Stay here. I'll pull them back."
"Like hell I will!" Atlas snarled, blue energy crackling violently around Stormclaw and Thunderfang. "That ugly's lookin' for a fight! Atlas ain't missin' the main event!" He bounded after her without hesitation.
Rayleigh chuckled, a low, rumbling sound like distant thunder. "Seems the echoes bit off more than they can chew. Sounds familiar." He followed with unhurried strides, his weathered face alert.
Galit sighed, the sound a long exhalation of exasperation. "The tactical disadvantages of unpredictable spectral entities... statistically catastrophic." But he unsheathed his Vipera Whips with a lethal hiss and moved with fluid, lynx-like grace after the others.
Marya ignored them, focusing inward. The connection to the Reapers felt like frayed ropes pulled taut. She poured her will down those lines, the Conqueror's Haki surging within her, a silent command: RETREAT! DISPERSE! Her eyes flashed crimson, the rings within her golden irises burning bright. The Key of Thresholds flared in response.
The effect was immediate but flawed. The Reapers didn't vanish. Instead, they flickered violently, like bad projections. Their forms became translucent, insubstantial. The Heaven's Heralds became wisps of starlight, the Purgatory Arbiters faded like rotten parchment, the Hell's Executioners seemed to dissolve into the swirling shadows. The glacial fog thinned rapidly, retreating back towards Marya like a living thing recoiling. The phantom skeletal cypresses and the dual sky bled away. The oppressive silence lifted, replaced by the serpent's guttural hissing, the groan of stressed metal, and the frantic dripping of thawing fluids.
Marya staggered slightly as the immense pressure of the Awakened state lifted. Her hair solidified back into raven-black strands, the halo above her head winking out. Her eyes snapped back to their normal, piercing gold with the faint, familiar rings. She gasped, the Key of Thresholds shrinking and reshaping back into the familiar obsidian form of Eternal Eclipse, the crimson runes dull. The transition left her feeling hollowed out, a familiar ache blooming behind her eyes.
Rayleigh observed the shift, his own gaze sharpening as he activated his Observation Haki, scanning the chamber ahead. "Interesting technique. Still needs polishing, I see. The cost seems... substantial."
Marya shot him a glare, wiping sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, the leather jacket's Heart Pirate insignia stark against the gloom. "That's something my father would say," she muttered, her voice back to its usual guarded stoicism, though laced with fatigue.
They rounded the final bend into the vast chamber where the cylinder had stood. The scene was apocalyptic. The floor was a lake of churning yellow fluid mixed with shattered glass and frozen chunks of the Reapers' earlier victims. In the center, the serpent had found its bearings. Its glowing yellow eyes, like diseased searchlights, locked onto the fading remnants of the Reapers and then snapped towards the new arrivals – Marya, Rayleigh, Atlas, and Galit. It coiled its massive, segmented body with terrifying speed, the drill-tipped legs screeching on the metal as it pivoted. A low, guttural vibration started deep within its armored chest, building towards another of those bone-jarring pressure waves.
*****
Jelly Squish wobbled frantically after the erratic, cartwheeling glow that was Proto-Mono. "BLOOP! GLITTER FRIEND! WAIT FOR JELLY!" They squeezed through a jagged crack in a heavy, barricaded blast door that looked like it had been partially melted from the inside.
The room beyond was a tomb of shadows and dying technology. Only a few flickering red emergency bulbs cast a bloody, intermittent light over scorched consoles, overturned equipment, and tangles of sparking wires. The air reeked of burnt insulation, spilled chemicals, and something acrid and metallic.
"Shiny bad! Big puppy scary! Glitchy fixy hide!" Proto-Mono whimpered, darting behind a large, humming console riddled with blinking, erratic lights.
A sharp voice cut through the gloom. "Status report on Sector 7 dampeners! I need containment fields online now, you useless lumps of protoplasm!"
Dr. Lysandra stood hunched over a central console, her salt-bleached, mercury-streaked curls wilder than usual. Her indigo-and-gold lab coat was singed at the hem. One eye peered through her brass rune-etched monocle, the other, vibrant green, blazed with furious intensity. A heavy, mercury-powered pistol lay discarded beside a half-eaten mango on the console. Two terrified scientists flinched at her barked orders, frantically tapping at unresponsive screens.
Proto-Mono zipped out from behind the console, colliding with Lysandra's legs. "Doc-Doc! Scary puppies everywhere! Glitchy hid!"
Lysandra stumbled, cursing colorfully in a language that sounded like grinding gears. She grabbed Proto-Mono by the shoulders, her gaze snapping past the chaotic child to the wobbling blue form squeezing through the door crack. Her eyes widened in disbelief.
"Jelly?!" She released Proto-Mono, staring at the gelatinous pirate. "The walking thermodynamic miscalculation? What in the Seven Hells are you doing down here in this glorified septic tank?" She looked from Jelly to Proto-Mono, who was now trying to weld a loose panel with a sparking screwdriver extruded from her mechanical arm.
"Adventure! Stabby friends!" Jelly announced proudly, bouncing in place. "BLOOP! Found Glitter Friend! Made spinny lights!"
Lysandra's mind raced, connecting the nonsensical dots. "Stabby friends... Dracule?" Her eyes sharpened. "Is he here? Mihawk?" Hope, sharp and desperate, warred with her usual cynicism.
Jelly wobbled enthusiastically. "Stabby lady! Glitter Friend adventure! BOOM!"
Proto-Mono chimed in, pointing her wrench-hand vaguely upwards. "Shiny sword! Grumpy gold eyes! Like Papa-Punk when the glowy box goes BANG!"
Lysandra sucked in a breath. Marya. If that terrifying girl was here, tearing through the Vanguard's nightmare lab... A fierce, predatory grin split Lysandra's face. She snatched up her pistol and a satchel bulging with vials and tools. "Out of my way!" she barked at the scientists, shoving past them towards the damaged door.
"Doctor! Where are you going?" one scientist stammered. "The protocols—"
"Protocols be damned!" Lysandra snapped, already prying at the warped metal around the crack Jelly had come through. "If what the sentient dessert and the walking lab accident say is true, we might just crawl out of this cesspool alive! But I need to find them! Now!"
"Before what?" the other scientist cried, panic rising.
Lysandra paused, her grin turning grim. She peered through the crack into the chaotic gloom beyond, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "Before it wakes up fully. Before whatever that idiot Orpheus was trying to breed down here decides we're all just... appetizers." She redoubled her efforts on the door. "Move! Help me get this blasted thing open!" The time for hiding was over. Survival depended on finding the storm contained within the Heart Pirates' leather jacket.
*****
The grinding shriek of the stone slab sealing the surface entrance still echoed faintly in the damp tunnel air when chaos erupted again. Ember, pink space buns bouncing, shot past the clustered group like a firecracker launched sideways. "Hide and seek!" she shrieked, her mismatched eyes wide with manic glee, a stark contrast to the grim tension clinging to everyone else. "Let's play! Bet you can't find me! Josiah says you're slow!" Her giggle was sharp as broken glass as she vanished around a moss-slicked corner further down the passage, the charred plush rabbit, Mr. Cinders, flopping wildly at her waist.
Kuro let out a low, weary groan, adjusting his cracked spectacles with a gloved palm. "Insufferable child," he muttered, the gold chain on his glasses glinting dully in the lamplight. Souta merely pinched the bridge of his nose, his shadowy tattoos seeming to ripple with barely contained irritation.
"Like, Ember! Stop! Seriously!" Bianca yelped, grease-stained overalls flapping as she took off after the smaller girl, her magnifying goggles bouncing on her forehead. "Come back! It's not playtime!" She skidded around the same corner, her voice fading. "Ember! Wait up! Like, this isn't funny!"
Aurélie Nakano Takeko, the Silent Swarm, turned slowly. Rainwater still glistened on her silver hair, plastering strands to her sharp cheekbones. Her steel-gray eyes, cold and focused, locked onto Kuro. The sheath of Anathema at her hip seemed to hum faintly. "She endangered everyone," Aurélie stated, her voice flat as a whetstone. "Surface exposure. Marine attention. Risked the mission." The unspoken accusation – your responsibility – hung heavy in the damp air.
Kuro met her gaze, his aristocratic features arranged in an expression of bored dismissal. He smoothed the lapel of his charcoal suit beneath the Syndicate trench coat. "Lectures on responsibility, Miss Nakano? How quaint. The child is... volatile. Containing her requires finesse, not finger-wagging. Focus on the objective." His tone was cool, deliberately disinterested, designed to deflect and irritate.
Koala, the Revolutionary Army officer, stepped between them, her practical demeanor a counterpoint to the brewing tension. "Enough," she said firmly, her voice cutting through the dripping silence. "Arguing won't find her. We need to regroup with Sabo. He should have heard back from our Elbaph informant by now. That intel dictates our next move." She gestured back the way they'd come, towards the larger cavern where Charlie was deciphering the dire glyphs.
Souta, leaning against the damp tunnel wall, pushed off smoothly. "I will go and–" he began, his voice a low murmur.
A scream ripped through the subterranean gloom. Not Ember's manic shriek, but Bianca's voice – high, startled, and abruptly cut off. It came from further down the tunnel, past the corner Ember had disappeared around.
Every head snapped towards the sound. Aurélie was moving before the echo faded, a silver streak flowing down the passage. Kuro and Souta exchanged a swift, unreadable look before following, their movements quick and purposeful despite Kuro's affected nonchalance. Koala brought up the rear, her blade already in hand.
They rounded the corner to find another junction. Three rough-hewn tunnels branched off into oppressive darkness, their mouths yawning like the throats of stone beasts. The only light came from their own flickering lanterns, casting long, dancing shadows that made the ancient stone seem alive. The sound of Bianca's scream had vanished, swallowed by the dripping silence.
Koala groaned, frustration etching lines on her face as she scanned the identical, unmarked passages. "Which way? Blast it all!"
Meanwhile, Deeper in the Maze...
"Like, Ember! Seriously! This isn't funny! Stop running!" Bianca panted, splashing through a shallow puddle. Her floral dress blouse peaked from beneath her open overalls, now smeared with grime. Ember remained just ahead, a flicker of pink and black darting behind a crumbling stone column, then reappearing further down a narrower tunnel choked with thick roots.
"Josiah says run faster!" Ember taunted, her giggle echoing weirdly. "Slowpoke engineer! Can't catch me!"
Bianca pushed her fogged goggles up, blinking sweat from her eyes. "Like, okay, fine! You win! Hide and seek champion! Now come on! Aurélie is gonna be super mad, and Kuro looks like he sucked on a lemon! Let's just go back and... and I'll show you how my new Taffy drone works? It shoots super sticky webs! Like, way better than hide and seek!" She forced cheer into her voice, trying to sound enticing, hoping to appeal to Ember's destructive curiosity.
Ember paused at the mouth of a particularly dark side passage, cocking her head. "Sticky webs?" she echoed, a flicker of interest in her gold and blue eyes. "Like, catch Josiah?"
"Like, totally!" Bianca pressed, relief washing over her as she cautiously closed the distance. "He'd be, like, super stuck! Hilarious, right?" She held out a hand, plastering on her most encouraging grin. "Come on, let's go try it!"
Ember took a half-step towards her, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "Stuck Josiah... funny..."
Bianca took another step forward, her boot landing squarely on a slightly raised, moss-covered flagstone that felt unnaturally smooth underfoot.
CLUNK.
A deep, resonant mechanical sound echoed from beneath the stone. The flagstone sank a fraction of an inch.
Bianca froze, her eyes wide. "Uh oh," she breathed.
With a sudden, grinding shriek of protesting rock and rusted hinges, the section of floor directly beneath Bianca's feet pivoted downwards. One moment she was standing; the next, she was plunging into darkness. Her scream – a raw, terrified sound utterly unlike her usual chatter – ripped through the tunnel as she scrabbled frantically at the crumbling edge. Her fingers found only slick stone and wet moss before she was swallowed whole, tumbling down a steep, smooth chute into utter blackness. The sound of her fall ended in a distant, echoing thud, followed by ominous silence.
Ember stood frozen at the edge of the dark pit, her manic energy momentarily snuffed out. She peered down into the impenetrable gloom where Bianca had vanished. Her mismatched eyes blinked once, twice. A small, confused frown creased her forehead. "Bianca...?" she whispered, the name sounding strange without the usual "like" attached. "Where... where did the fun go?" The plush rabbit, Mr. Cinders, dangled limply from her hand, its single button eye staring blankly into the abyss.
Back at the Junction
Koala strained her ears, her knuckles white the butt of the pistol. "Nothing. Which tunnel did it come from?" The oppressive silence pressed in, thick with the smell of wet stone, ancient dust, and the faint, ever-present reek of the bridge's suffering above.
Aurélie stood utterly still, her head tilted slightly. Her silver hair seemed to catch what little light there was. "Down the center passage," she stated, her voice devoid of inflection but carrying absolute certainty. "The acoustics... shifted." She didn't wait, flowing into the dark tunnel like quicksilver.
Kuro adjusted his spectacles again, a flicker of something unreadable – perhaps irritation, perhaps calculation – in his eyes before he followed. Souta melted into the shadows behind him, his movements silent as ink spreading on paper. Koala took a steadying breath and plunged in after them, the fate of Bianca now tangled with the world-threatening secret buried beneath their feet, and the impossible choice Sabo wrestled with in the glyph chamber – sacrifice twelve hundred souls now, or risk every soul later. The borrowed time dripped away with the water seeping through the stones.