Chapter 2
The Calm Belt stretched endlessly, deceptively serene, its waters like a mirror reflecting the morning sun. But for Vice-Admiral Tsuru, there was nothing ordinary about this section of ocean. Subtle ripples, almost imperceptible, hinted at the presence of living energy. Her senses, honed from decades of service, picked up a faint pulse—alive, brash, and yet restrained. A energy so powerful and young, like the whispered echo of something untamed.
Amber sat quietly at her side, her small frame dwarfed by the instruments and charts spread across the deck. She didn't understand the thread she felt—only that it belonged to someone familiar. To her, it was comforting, a tether of hope that whispered Crow was alive. She had survived the lab, labeled "expandable" and left unbroken, but even she couldn't grasp why just traumas of loss.
Helena approached, face grim, carrying a sealed envelope stamped as "Emergency – Priority Transmission". Her steps were deliberate, hesitant.
"Vice-Admiral," she said, voice low, "the city report… the CP9 agents, they didn't make it. Streets were drenched in blood. The target… survived."
Tsuru's expression didn't change. On the surface, she remained calm and collected, but her mind raced to the boy at fault Crow.
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The Calm Belt was normally a zone of stillness, but reports indicated that Crow had moved silently through the area on a small Kuja ship. Shakky's planning had been meticulous: the boy had navigated the treacherous waters unseen, avoiding the patrols and ambushes that littered the route from the East Blue to the first half of the Grand Line. Two years of hiding and now the woman saw it fit for him to leave.
Allowing herself a moment to relect Tsuru allowed herself a brief moment to reflect.
"Why was Amber labeled "expandable"? The lab had deemed her disposable, yet she remained unharmed. Crow, on the other hand, had survived as a child with a energy no one could grasp, surviving threats most adults would not endure. Something in Shakky's design had ensured his growth while keeping him out of immediate danger.
Another thought arose. Crow's devil fruit—the Golden Crow. Banned by the Holy Land for its dangerous potential, yet consumed and survived. She considered the ramifications. If anyone else had eaten it without control or guidance, they would be reduced to ashes by its passive heat output. Crow had been carefully trained to harness this power, to regulate it. But he was still brash, still untempered. A wild thread moving through the Calm Belt, and the world had no idea.
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Amber, for her part, could only sense the connection. She didn't understand it. She couldn't see Crow's actions, couldn't read his Haki. To her, it was as though someone important was just out of reach, their presence alive but obscured.
It was this subtle ki that kept Tsuru focused. Amber's thread confirmed the location of Crow, but not the full scope of his deeds. That knowledge, Tsuru knew, had to remain contained. A child need not know the havoc that had occurred in the city, the slaughter of CP9 operatives, the reckless but calculated use of fledgling King's Haki. That would come later, when the time was right.
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Helena opened the envelope carefully, revealing the transcripts and visual logs.
"Two CP9 operatives ambushed a local port city," Helena explained. "According to eyewitness accounts, the streets were saturated with blood. The agents didn't have a chance. The target—the high-value individual—was reported to be seen on a small vessel leaving the port shortly after."
Tsuru read the lines without flinching, but her mind cataloged everything: the raw destructive potential, the precision of movement, the lethal intent. Crow's King's Haki… fledgling, yes, but fully radiating, untamed.
She murmured to herself, noting strategic possibilities. If he is caught in a fight with elite forces, his power could tip the balance—but uncontrolled, he is a threat even to us.
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Far away, the small Kuja vessel cut through the Calm Belt's glassy waters. Crow leaned against the railing, bloodied, still reeling from the encounter in the city. The blackened cloth wrapped around his spear reflected the faint light of dawn, a subtle nod to the Amazonian craftsmanship that had saved him years ago.
His outfit was a darker version of Edward Kenway's ensemble: practical, rugged, and reinforced for combat. Boots scuffed from training and travel, gloves tight around his hands. He looked every bit the part of a seasoned pirate in the making, yet his brashness betrayed his youth.
Fledgling King's Haki radiated off him like steam. Observation Haki, stronger than most men twice his age, guided his movements subconsciously. Armament Haki coated his body and weapon, secondary but precise. The small crew of Kuja pirates, masters of Calm Belt travel, allowed him to focus on his own instincts as they steered the vessel toward Newgate.
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Over the past two years, Shakky had orchestrated Crow's survival and growth. The Black Spirit's whispers had guided him, teaching him the lessons of Lee Shioon: how to survive without overrelying on ki, how to absorb and redirect life force safely, and how to temper instinct with restraint. Crow had grown, but the lessons were far from complete. His brashness, his arrogance, and his untamed King's Haki were reminders that mastery was still distant.
Amber's presence, the ki thread, acted as a tether to the world. It was proof that he had survived the lab's machinations, proof that he could navigate the waters between life and death without succumbing.
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Back on Tsuru's flagship, strategy was the priority. Crow's raw presence added a volatile element to the plan: John and Silver Axe were holding off Admiral Xer with their fleet, attempting to trap him before he could flank Newgate. Rocks' plan had been executed with precision; Crow's unpredictable Haki was a known risk but also a potential advantage.
Tsuru considered the possibilities. Could Crow be contained? Could he be directed without causing unforeseen chaos? Could a child, no matter how trained, influence the course of an elite-level naval engagement?
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The Calm Belt's glassy waters stretched ahead, hiding both promise and danger. Crow's small Kuja ship moved with precision toward Newgate. Behind him, Amber sat quietly, unaware of the full scale of what had occurred in the city.
Helena's report lingered in Tsuru's mind: Crow had slaughtered CP9 agents. Streets were drenched in blood. He was not yet controlled.
Tsuru's thoughts shifted again to Vegapunk. If Shakky had delivered the boy there, the pieces of the puzzle might finally connect. But until that moment, Crow remained untethered, a volatile thread weaving through the Calm Belt.
And as the fleet prepared to move into position, the world's elite forces—the pirates, the marines, the unknown agents—remained oblivious to the quiet, deadly storm approaching from the shadows.