The prison corridors of Metz-Oni were a maze of shadow and echoing stone, the blaring alarm disorienting as it bounced off every surface. Jannali led the way, her ears and hidden third eye straining to parse the chaos, while Eliane followed, her glowing wings and halo-flame casting their sprinting shadows like frantic, angelic specters on the walls.
They rounded a sharp corner—and slammed to a halt.
Blocking the corridor ahead, leaning on her massive trident, Sharito, was Paula Cupcake Pope. The crimson glow from a wall sconce lit the wild cascade of her fire-red hair and the sharp blue war-paint across her eyes. A thin trail of smoke curled from the pipe clenched in her teeth.
"Well, ain't this a treat," Paula said, her voice a smoky, amused drawl. "Figured out how to escape the playpen all on your own. Gotta respect the initiative." Her gaze, sharp and assessing, slid past Jannali and fixed on Eliane. The little chef stood her ground, wings flared, fists clenched, her Lunarian flame burning bright against the dungeon's gloom. Paula's smirk widened. "And look at you. Decided to stop hidin' under the bed and embrace the family business, huh?"
Paula didn't wait for an answer. She took a long, final drag from her pipe, exhaled, and tapped it out against her boot heel. Then she moved.
It wasn't a step—it was a transformation. Her skin shimmered, taking on a lustrous, deep emerald hue. From her back, two additional pairs of arms unfolded with a soft, rustling sound, each limb powerful and defined. A glowing, celestial ribbon of light—a hagoromo—materialized around her shoulders, casting an ethereal, shifting glow. In one hand she held Sharito, in another, the heavy longbow, Yanagito. The remaining four arms spread wide, open and ready. Eyes, glowing with faint light, opened on her palms and the soles of her feet. The Mythical Zoan, Tara, had taken the stage.
"Let's see what you two can really do," Paula said, her voice now echoing with a layered, harmonic resonance.
Jannali and Eliane exchanged a single, urgent look. Jannali gave a sharp, encouraging nod. Now or never.
The fight exploded into motion.
Paula was a whirlwind. She didn't just attack from the front; with her Seven Eyes of Wisdom granting her 360-degree vision, she was aware of every stone in the wall, every shift in the air. She lunged, Sharito thrusting forward like a striking serpent, while simultaneously, two of her other arms nocked and fired three arrows from Yanagito in a fluid, impossibly fast motion.
"Down!" Jannali yelled, shoving Eliane aside. She extended Anhur's Whisper, the sea-stone tip scraping sparks off the trident's shaft as she deflected it, but the arrows were another matter. She twisted, one whizzing past her ear, the other two embedding themselves in the stone floor where she'd been standing.
Eliane, heart hammering, reacted on instinct. She threw out her hands, and a wave of golden fire roared down the corridor. Paula didn't flinch. One of her free hands clapped, and a shimmering, lotus-shaped platform of energy appeared before her. The fire splashed against it and dissipated. "Cute spark, kid. Needs more heat."
Paula closed the distance in a flash, moving with "Enlightened Speed." She was suddenly behind them. A backhand from one of her powerful arms caught Jannali across the shoulders, sending her sprawling. Another hand snatched towards Eliane's wing.
Eliane cried out, beating her wings hard to surge upward, but Paula's grip was like iron. She yanked, pulling Eliane off-balance. "Grounded birds are easier to pluck!"
"Get off her!" Jannali roared, scrambling up. She flung one of her Echo Boomerangs. It sang through the air, curving unnaturally. Paula, without even looking, caught it with her third right hand and crunched it into splinters.
The fight was brutally one-sided. Jannali darted in and out with her spear, using all her hunter's agility, but Paula parried every thrust with Sharito or simply caught the spear shaft in another hand, her multiple limbs making her a fortress. Eliane rained down fire, but Paula weaved between the blasts, her hagoromo ribbon leaving trails of light, or deflected them with claps of air that created concussive, vibrating waves—the Three-World Tremor. The shockwaves cracked the stone walls and made Eliane's head swim.
They were exhausted quickly. Sweat plastered Jannali's hair to her forehead, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. Eliane's wings drooped, her glorious flame flickering uncertainly. They stood back-to-back, panting, surrounded by the emerald-skinned, six-armed warrior.
Paula hefted Sharito, aiming its points at them. "Had your fun?"
Jannali, chest heaving, shot a look at Eliane. "Don't you dare give up," she hissed, her accent thick with strain. "If we…"
Clack. Clack. Clack.
Ominous, measured footsteps echoed down the stone hallway, cutting through the alarm's blare. Not the running boots of guards. Something slower. Deliberate.
Paula's many eyes shifted, glancing over her shoulder. Her scowl was immediate and profound.
Marya Dracule walked into the pool of flickering light, Nisshoku held loosely in one hand. The obsidian blade consuming the torchlight, the crimson runes along its length a sullen, sleeping glow. Her leather jacket was dusty, her golden eyes cool and assessing. Behind her, Dr. Zip H. Scatyl peeked from around the corner, saw Paula, and immediately scurried back to hide behind a corroded iron brazier.
Eliane's face lit up. "Marya!"
Jannali let out a breath that was half laugh, half sob of relief. "'Bout time you showed up to the party."
Paula's emerald features twisted. "Archibald, you useless imbecile," she muttered under her breath, before turning her full, furious attention to the new arrival. "Come to collect your stray chicks?"
Marya's gaze swept past Paula, taking in Eliane's battered but defiant form and Jannali's exhausted stance. A single brow lifted slightly. She finally turned her attention to Paula. "This is your chance to walk away," she said, her voice flat and calm.
Paula let out a sharp, incredulous hiss. "You brat! Who do you think you're—"
Marya moved.
There was no shout, no dramatic flourish. She simply vanished from her spot and reappeared within Paula's guard, Nisshoku carving a silent, dark arc through the air. It was so fast, so devoid of wasted motion, that it warped the space it passed through.
Paula's eyes—all of them—widened. She brought Sharito up in a desperate cross-block.
The impact wasn't loud. It was a deep, shuddering THOOM that vibrated in the bones. The force that traveled down Sharito and into Paula's arms wasn't just physical; it felt cold and hollow, like being hit by a piece of the abyss. Her feet left the floor. She was hurled backwards like a ragdoll, crashing into the far wall with a crunch of splintering stone and collapsing in a cloud of dust.
Marya didn't gloat. She glanced at Eliane and Jannali. "You two good?"
Eliane nodded vigorously, her flame re-igniting with hope. Jannali grinned, pushing herself upright. "Let's get the hell out of here."
Marya gave a curt nod.
A blur of emerald and fury erupted from the dust cloud. Paula, a crack in one of her horns, her eyes blazing, was airborne. She'd used her lotus platforms to launch herself. All six arms gripped Sharito overhead, driving it down like a divine spear aimed to impale Marya from above. "YOU LITTLE—!"
Jannali cursed. "What is she made of?!"
Marya didn't look up. She raised Nisshoku, one-handed, holding it parallel to the ground.
Sharito, driven by the weight and fury of a falling Mythical Zoan, met the obsidian blade.
The sound was a deafening, metallic scream. Sparks, not of heat, but of void-black and emerald-green energy, exploded outward. The stone beneath Marya's boots spider-webbed, but she didn't buckle. She didn't even move. She held, the muscles in her arm corded but steady, her expression one of focused indifference.
Paula hung in the air, pushing with all her might, all six arms straining. She couldn't move the blade an inch.
"Now," Marya said, not to Paula, but to her crew.
It was all the opening they needed. Eliane, seeing her friend holding the monster at bay, funneled all her remaining will into her hands. A concentrated beam of golden fire, hotter and brighter than any before, lanced out—not at Paula, but at the haft of Sharito where Paula's lowest hands gripped. The metal grew red, then white-hot in an instant.
Paula shrieked, her grip faltering.
In the same heartbeat, Jannali moved. She didn't throw her remaining boomerangs. She charged. Using a fallen chunk of masonry as a springboard, she leapt, Anhur's Whisper extended to its full length. She didn't aim for Paula's body, protected by her Zoan durability. She aimed for the glowing celestial ribbon—the hagoromo—around her shoulders. The sea-stone tip sliced through the luminous energy.
The ribbon shattered like broken glass. Paula's emerald glow flickered wildly. A gasp of what looked like genuine pain ripped from her throat.
That was the true break. Marya felt the pressure on Nisshoku waver. With a twist of her wrist, she redirected Sharito's force to the side, sending Paula stumbling. Before the Ogre commander could recover, Marya stepped in. A flash of her boot hooked behind Paula's ankle. A sharp, downward slap of Nisshoku's flat side against her shoulder, augmented by a surge of Armament Haki that blackened the blade.
There was a final, crushing impact. Paula Cupcake Pope's eyes rolled back. Her six arms went limp. She collapsed to the cold stone, the emerald hue fading from her skin, her extra arms retracting, leaving her once more a tall, formidable woman lying unconscious amidst the rubble.
The alarm still blared, but the corridor felt silent.
Marya sheathed Nisshoku with a soft click. "Let's go."
She didn't look back at the defeated commander. Dr. Scatyl emerged from his hiding place, trembling. Jannali clapped a soot-streaked Eliane on the back. Together, the four of them—the stoic swordswoman, the grinning huntress, the winged chef, and the trembling doctor—melted into the shadows of the dungeon, leaving only the dust and the echoes of a short, brutal lesson in their wake.
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