One Piece : Brotherhood

🎉 Happy New Year, Dear Readers! 🎉

As we step into another year filled with endless possibilities, I want to take a moment to express my deepest gratitude to each of you. Your unwavering support, encouragement, and belief in my journey have been the foundation of everything I strive to create and share.

2025 stands before us like a blank canvas, brimming with potential for growth, creativity, and connection. Together, let's make this year one of inspiration and achievements!

May this New Year bring you joy, success, and countless moments of happiness. I hope it's filled with laughter, warmth, and all the things that make life truly special.

Here's to more adventures, shared dreams, and making magic happen in 2025. Thank you for being such an integral part of my story. Let's make this year our best yet!

With gratitude and best wishes,

[Silent_stiele]

🌟 Cheers to a fantastic New Year! 🌟

*****

The plague spread across Flevance like wildfire. Entire neighborhoods turned into desolate wastelands as streets emptied, homes locked from within, and the cries of the sick and dying echoed through the alleys.

The surrounding kingdoms, gripped by fear, had issued immediate red alerts, mobilizing soldiers who patrolled the borders in thick hazard suits, rifles primed to shoot down anyone desperate enough to approach.

Sea borders were no less fortified—warships from neighboring nations formed an iron barricade along Flevance's coasts, casting dark shadows over the waters. Still, the monarchy remained silent. No explanations, no calls for aid. Flevance was entirely, ruthlessly, abandoned.

Inside the hospital laboratory, Lance peered into the microscope, sweat dampening his brow as he studied the blood sample from one of the infected. He'd spent years researching the effects of Amber Lead, and he knew that what he was witnessing now was far beyond any natural toxin or metal-induced disease.

This new plague moved with terrifying speed, seeming to mutate and multiply even as he studied it. And Issho and Christina's immunity only solidified the theory forming in his mind.

"This isn't natural," Lance muttered, sitting back with a haunted expression as he looked at the two immune pirates who stood close by. "This disease…it was synthesized by someone. I think I can create a temporary suppressant using your blood," he added, meeting their grim gazes.

"Your bodies are producing antibodies. It's as if you're already immune—this 'Haki' of yours seems to counter the effects."

Issho, frowning with deep lines etched across his forehead, folded his arms. "Can't you create a permanent cure if our blood has antibodies?" His voice held the thin edge of hope, but his face remained stony, unreadable.

Christina chuckled, her sharp gaze flicking to Issho with a glint of mocking amusement. "Oh, Issho san," she teased, her voice low but carrying a dangerous undertone. "Lance can barely get through the day without needing more blood samples. Do you think he's a miracle worker?" She shrugged, crossing her arms.

"Not that it matters to me. I have no intention of giving away my blood for some charity case. I didn't survive this long by being selfless." Issho's blind glare darkened, but Christina's smirk only deepened.

Lance exhaled, his shoulders drooping as the weight of the truth settled in. "It's not that simple, Issho san. This disease is mutating faster than anything I've ever seen or heard of. It's transmitted through air, water, touch—every possible medium. Even if I could use your blood, it would be impossible to create enough to save Flevance. We'd need hundreds, thousands of samples to inoculate the whole kingdom."

Issho's gaze drifted to the corner of the room, where Lance's wife tended to their children, her face worn with worry as she stroked their fevered brows. All four had fallen victim to the disease, their once-bright faces now pale and sunken, with dark patches spreading across their skin like cursed tattoos. Issho's expression softened slightly, and he turned back to Lance, nodding.

"Start with your family," he said quietly. "If my blood will help them, you have it. I won't pretend to be a saint, but I'll give it where it's needed."

Christina rolled her eyes, scoffing. "Save the noble speeches, Issho san. The kind-hearted don't last long in this world." She glanced at Lance with a smirk.

"Don't waste your time trying to save everyone. Take what you need, make a few batches for your own, and get out. I'm no hero, and I'll be damned if I end up as some charity sacrifice."

But Lance's thoughts were elsewhere. His heart wrenched every time he looked at his children, their young lives threatened by a weaponized disease that defied all natural laws. He was a doctor. His duty was to heal, to protect—and yet he felt completely powerless against this manufactured plague, a nightmare unleashed by a power beyond comprehension.

"If only we could find the source," he muttered, gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white. "If we could locate who or what created this plague, we might have a chance to develop a real countermeasure. This is no ordinary pathogen—this is the work of a Devil Fruit user."

Issho nodded, his jaw set. "And who else but the World Government would dare attempt something like this?"

Christina's eyes gleamed with cold confidence. "I'd bet on it. Word has it there's a Devil Fruit with the power to produce deadly diseases—the Shiku Shiku no Mi. Only someone wielding that kind of power could create something as horrific as this."

Issho's brow furrowed as the weight of his question hung in the air. "What about the Flevance royalty?" he asked, his tone edged with suspicion.

"What about the men you've stationed to watch them? Have they contracted the disease yet?" He paused, his eyes dark and contemplative.

"If the royal family is immune, it could confirm our worst fears—that the Devil Fruit user is closer than we think. Only someone wielding such a power could completely protect select individuals from this plague."

Christina grinned, but there was no warmth in it—only cold, calculating amusement. She crossed her arms, her eyes gleaming with a dangerous edge.

"Worry not about my men, Issho-san," she said confidently, her voice dripping with nonchalance.

"They're well-trained in Haki. You forget, we're no ordinary bunch—we hail from the New World. Long before we ever started following young Master Ross, my crew and I survived far worse." Her chuckle was low and mocking, and though she spoke lightly, the unspoken confidence in her words hung thick in the air.

Christina, the former captain of the Cross Pirates, was no stranger to carnage or chaos. Her bounty had reached a staggering 600 million berries before her defeat, a testament to her ruthlessness and infamy.

She was known for being unyielding on the battlefield and merciless in her dealings. Even now, as part of the Donquixote Pirates, she maintained her deadly edge. Only after a brutal defeat at the hands of Rosinanate—Donquixote Doflamingo's prodigious brother—had she joined their ranks.

It had been four years since then, but in those four years, Christina had grown fiercer, climbing the family ranks quickly, and overseeing much of the North Blue under Ross's command.

Back then, Rosinante had spared her life after a short but brutal battle, not out of mercy, but because he saw potential in her small, ragged crew. Where others saw a broken pirate, he saw a diamond in the rough, and he had given her a choice: serve or die.

Christina chose wisely. She abandoned her old pirate ideals, embracing the power and protection of the Donquixote Family. Under Ross's command, she had thrived, her bloodlust tempered by loyalty to her new family but never extinguished.

Now, standing here with Issho and Lance, she still carried that same fire.

"As for the royal family," she continued, a wicked smile playing on her lips, "they're fine. Untouched by the plague, of course. The Devil Fruit user is hiding among them, no doubt." She said it so casually, like discussing the weather.

"If you ask me, we can start a little massacre at the royal palace. A nice, clean purge. Lock them all inside, burn the place down—it's efficient, don't you think?" She chuckled again, but this time, her laughter carried a dark undercurrent, the suggestion far from idle.

Issho stiffened, his fists clenching at her callousness, but he knew better than to doubt Christina's methods. She wasn't joking—those who knew her well were painfully aware of how serious she was when it came to matters of death and destruction.

Lance, however, couldn't suppress a grimace at her words. "You're suggesting we wipe them all out…without even knowing for sure who's responsible?" He shook his head, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "There are innocent lives at stake—children, families. We can't just…"

Christina's sharp gaze cut him off. "Innocence doesn't matter in this world, doctor. The longer we wait, the more this plague will spread. I'm not in the business of saving people; I'm in the business of survival, and my mission only involves your families safety. The royal family's hands are as dirty as anyone's. Whether they're involved or not, this plague started because of them."

She gestured towards the window, where the rising sun cast a bloody hue over the city, its streets filled with the sounds of suffering. "Look around you. If we don't act, this entire kingdom will fall. Do you really want to gamble on mercy?"

Issho's voice cut through the tension, deep and unwavering. "We're not going to slaughter innocents, Christina." His tone left no room for argument. "But we are going to find who's responsible. If the Devil Fruit user is hiding among the royal family, then we'll expose them." His grip on his sword cane tightened, and Lance could see the resolve burning in the swordsman's eyes.

Christina shrugged, seemingly unfazed by Issho's refusal to embrace her violent solution. "Suit yourself. But don't say I didn't warn you when things go south." She turned, her back to them now as she strode towards the door, her voice lilting in an almost sing-song tone.

"I'll get my men ready. When you're done playing detective, let me know. We'll be waiting to finish this."

As Christina exited, her presence left a palpable silence in the room. Lance let out a long breath, the weight of her words heavy on his conscience. He turned back to Issho, who stood still as a statue, his mind clearly racing.

"The royal family has been suspiciously quiet throughout all this," Lance murmured. "If they're unaffected, it raises far too many questions."

Issho nodded slowly. "We can't rule out the possibility that the monarchy is involved—either knowingly or unknowingly."

Lance's eyes flickered towards his family once again. "We need more time. If we can delay Christina's…'solution' long enough, maybe we can find the real source."

Issho gripped his cane tighter, his face set in grim determination. "We don't have much time. If the plague continues to spread like this, even we might be overwhelmed. But I'll deal with Christina, make sure she doesn't act before we're ready."

Lance nodded. His mind was torn between his duty as a doctor and the urgency of the situation. One thing was certain, though—the storm wasn't just coming to Flevance. It was already here.

*****

Marineford, Grandline

"Fleet Admiral Sengoku, was it wise to recall me here, with the New World boiling over?" Admiral Raylene's voice was laced with unease as she addressed Sengoku. She couldn't shake the image of the brewing chaos in the New World, where three of the Four Emperors—Whitebeard, Kaido, and Big Mom—seemed to be converging on Wano. The tension could ignite a war that might tear the entire region apart.

But Sengoku's expression was implacable. "Raylene, we have more pressing matters than Wano," he said, his tone firm. "I need you here at Headquarters while I make a trip to East Blue myself."

Raylene's eyes darted to Admiral Hazard, who sat calmly sipping his tea. She knew Hazard's reputation—steadfast and ruthless, a man who tolerated no nonsense, especially not from pirates. Raylene's brows knitted together in thought.

"Fleet Admiral, with all due respect, isn't Vice Admiral Garp… well, practically off the Marines after what happened? He assaulted one of the Elders; how did you even convince them to reinstate him?" She couldn't comprehend it. Garp's actions were practically treason, but here Sengoku was, adamant about bringing him back.

Sengoku caught her uncertainty and let out a deep sigh. He hadn't convinced the Elders so much as wagered everything he had left. He was banking on his long-standing friendship with Garp, hoping against hope that the Marine Hero would answer the call.

He needed Garp's strength and influence more than ever now, with new threats surfacing from the shadows, threats that he feared even his Admirals might not be able to contain alone.

"Forget about Wano!" Sengoku's voice was iron-clad. "If the Emperors want to clash, let them. We don't have any alliances or interests in Wano, and pirates tearing at each other's throats will save us trouble in the long run. Our focus has to be on stabilizing the Four Blues and keeping the Grand Line under control. If we lose our grip here, it's over."

Hazard, ever the pragmatist, set down his tea and nodded toward Sengoku. "Speaking of the Four Blues… what about Flevance? Have you forgotten the orders from the World Government?" His tone was sharp. The World Times had been blasting headlines about the nightmare unfolding in the kingdom—entire communities slaughtered, fires burning across the borders, entire nations erecting defenses to contain the disease, digging trenches and establishing no-man's-land to prevent any Flevance citizens from crossing over.

"That's precisely why I'm assigning you to Flevance, Hazard," Sengoku replied. "Your mission is to ensure the royal family and their assets are evacuated safely. You'll have full authority to assemble a team, so take a few Vice Admirals to back you up. Remember, the North Blue falls under Donquixote's influence, and we have confirmed reports that Fujitora himself is in Flevance."

Hazard's lips curved into a skeptical smile. "What's an Emperor's top Cadre doing in a place like Flevance, hm? We'd be naive to dismiss the possibility that Donquixote has a hand in this plague. For all the heroic stories you tell about your ex-protégé, Fleet Admiral, pirates are pirates. And we both know they'd use any tactic, no matter how vile, to seize control."

Sengoku's gaze hardened, his mouth set in a line of defiance. "I know Rosinante better than most. He isn't some senseless killer. If he was truly behind this, he'd make it known boldly and openly, not resort to insidious methods like this."

His confidence in Rosinante's character was unshakable, and he didn't bother to hide it. In his heart, he knew that even though Rosinante had taken a path Sengoku couldn't condone, he would never commit genocide under the guise of a plague.

Hazard, however, wasn't convinced. He leaned forward, his gaze critical. "I think you're putting too much faith in a pirate, Fleet Admiral. Remember, Rosinante is a wanted man now, a pirate with ties to one of the most feared Emperors in the sea. The boy you knew has become a powerful force to be reckoned with. He bested Admiral Agana—*Agana,* Fleet Admiral!" Hazard's voice held an edge of frustration.

"Maybe he's not the same boy you remember. And if he really hasn't fallen, why would he join a pirate crew in the first place?"

Sengoku clenched his fists under the desk, his memories pulling him back to the fateful day Rosinante had left the Marines. He remembered the betrayal by the Marines, yes, but he also remembered the kindness and conviction that had once burned in Rosinante's eyes—a light his friend Garp himself had fostered.

The Marines had hounded him, ambushed him without honor. Hazard and Raylene knew nothing of the way the high command had treated Rosinante. To them, he was only a dangerous outcast, a shadow of the young man Sengoku had cherished.

"Rosinante's no stranger to hardship," Sengoku said slowly. "But trust me, he'd never stoop to this kind of horror. Garp saw that potential in him long before the others ever did. He'd only train a man of principle, one who would fight his own if it meant upholding what was right." His voice grew distant, but there was pride in his words.

"The Donquixote Family might have turned him, but the Rosinante I know would never choose such a cowardly maneuver. If the Donquixote family is truly involved, there's more to this plague than we understand."

Hazard snorted, unconvinced. "You speak of him as if he's still some bright-eyed Marine cadet, Fleet Admiral. But the man in Flevance is a captain under the Donquixote banner, and he's proven more than once that he's willing to destroy anyone in his path. Maybe it's time we see him as he is, not as you wish him to be."

Raylene watched the exchange in silence, torn between Sengoku's unwavering faith and Hazard's pragmatic skepticism. She hadn't known Rosinante well but knew of the hero's reputation he'd once held. To think he'd taken a darker path was hard for her to accept, yet there was a logic in Hazard's words.

But Sengoku's eyes were fierce as he looked back at Hazard. "The day we assume all pirates are monsters is the day we become no better than they are. If there's a chance that Flevance's tragedy isn't due to Donquixote's actions, then it's our duty to seek the truth before we condemn him. You're to evacuate the royal family, Hazard, but don't presume guilt until you've seen proof."

Hazard shrugged dismissively, his eyes sharp. "And if I find evidence that points to the Donquixote family?"

"Then, and only then, will we address it," Sengoku replied, his voice heavy. He knew the risk he was taking, the trust he was placing in the son of the Donquixote lineage. But he believed that if Rosinante was involved, it wasn't as a villain. It was as a man with a mission, one that may yet save more lives than it took.

The tension in the room was almost tangible as Raylene's voice cut through the silence. "Are we really going to ignore the elephant in the room? The World Times has all but accused the World Government of orchestrating what's happening in Flevance, claiming it's a cover-up to hide the truth about Amber Lead. Are we just going to pretend it isn't happening?"

Hazard scoffed, leaning back in his chair with a dismissive smirk. "And what, exactly, would the World Government gain by stirring up chaos like this?" He cast a sharp glance her way, his tone dripping with disdain. Being a staunch supporter of the World Government, Hazard had no patience for what he saw as the naïve musings of officers like Garp and his followers.

Raylene's loyalty to Garp was well known, and Hazard never missed a chance to undermine it. "All you're doing is parroting a baseless theory, Raylene. Don't tell me you believe everything that paper prints."

Raylene's eyes flared with frustration, her voice challenging. "Think about it, Hazard. What if the World Government has known all along about the effects of Amber Lead? What if they kept it a secret to profit from the kingdom's exports, ignoring the consequences on the people's lives?"

She turned in the direction where her fellow Admiral sat, looking him dead in the eyes.

"Is it so impossible to think they'd hide such a devastating truth if it meant protecting their power?"

Hazard waved a hand dismissively. "That's mere speculation, Raylene. You're making leaps without a single shred of concrete proof. And let's not forget: you're implying that the government would willingly incite panic in their own people when stability is what keeps them in control. It's nonsense. Why would they undermine their own authority like that?"

Raylene's patience was thinning, her tone growing fiercer. "So you're saying the reports of shortened lifespans in Flevance are just coincidence? Are you saying the government didn't know exactly what Amber Lead mining would do to its citizens? Are they really that incompetent, Hazard? Or do you just not want to admit that there might be truth in the rumors?"

Hazard's smirk only grew, his voice low and taunting. "If incompetence is what you're after, you'll find it in the public's idiotic attempts to blame everyone but themselves for their own suffering.

They wanted prosperity, and they paid the price for it. And here you are, ready to cry conspiracy over unproven claims."

Sengoku had listened quietly, his eyes darkening as their argument escalated. But now, his voice thundered through the room, silencing them both.

"Enough!" He fixed them with a fierce glare, his normally controlled expression twisted with frustration.

"I told you both not to jump to conclusions without proof. We are not in this room to feed each other rumors and theories. The people of Flevance are the ones suffering, and what are we doing? Sitting here, bickering like children over what might be true and what might not."

He paused, looking from Raylene to Hazard, his gaze hard and disappointed. "As Marines, our duty is to serve and protect, not to feed our own egos or point fingers. We're supposed to act, and yet we're here on the sidelines, content to watch an entire kingdom burn."

His fists clenched tightly at his sides as he spoke, the frustration of watching his own ranks fracture under the weight of uncertainty evident in his voice. "And the worst part? We're doing nothing about it. We should be ashamed of ourselves."

Raylene looked down, her cheeks flushed with the sting of Sengoku's words, yet the conviction in her heart did not falter. She'd always believed that the Marines could be a force for true justice.

Garp's influence had shaped her view of the world, instilling in her a belief that the Marines had a duty to question their orders if those orders went against the lives and well-being of the people they swore to protect.

Hazard, on the other hand, remained unmoved, his expression hardened with defiance. "We're doing our duty by following the orders given to us, Fleet Admiral. Questioning the government without evidence isn't loyalty—it's treason. And perhaps it's high time that certain officers remember that."

Sengoku's jaw tightened as he stared Hazard down, anger flaring in his eyes. "Loyalty is not mindless obedience, Hazard. True loyalty to the Marines means upholding justice—even when it's inconvenient. But until we have concrete proof, we're not here to condemn the government or anyone else. We're here to focus on the people who are suffering."

Raylene looked up, a fierce resolve in her gaze as she spoke quietly. "And when we find that proof, Fleet Admiral, will we do something about it?"

Sengoku's voice softened slightly, though his frustration was still clear. "We will act on truth, Raylene. If there is wrongdoing, it won't be hidden. But until Garp returns, we keep our suspicions close and our minds open." He looked between them, his tone final.

"There are too many people depending on us for us to be divided. Now, I need both of you—without ego, without assumptions—to keep your focus on the mission at hand. Understood?"

Both Admirals gave a sharp nod, though Hazard's expression remained guarded. Sengoku knew he couldn't rely on full cooperation from him, but if he could bring Garp back, maybe he could turn the tides within the Marines themselves. The longer he observed the turmoil within his ranks, the clearer it became: they needed a shake-up, a new direction.

As the meeting concluded, Sengoku watched them leave, knowing that the stakes were higher than ever. And as the door closed behind them, he felt the weight of his own doubts settling on his shoulders. For now, all he could do was wait, hope for Garp's return, and prepare for the challenges that lay ahead.