Scene 1 — Pirate Island: Standoff
Crow followed silently behind Rocks, each step crunching over broken stone and scattered debris. Pirate Island lay in ruin, a testament to the lawless chaos that had festered for months. Smoke curled from shattered rooftops, mingling with the acrid stench of scorched wood and burnt flesh. Flags, tattered and caked with blood, flapped weakly in the wind. A few surviving ships sat half-sunken in the docks, sails shredded, decks splintered.
Everywhere, the detritus of desperation: toppled carts, broken barrels spilling rotting goods, bodies lying face-down in pools of ash and blood. Crow's eyes swept the chaos, noting the uneven posture of the surviving minor crews. They were ragged, bruised, and limping, yet their gazes burned with reckless fighting spirit. These were pirates who had survived every skirmish over the past months; their bravado was a desperate shield against fear, their survival instinct sharpened to the edge of madness.
Rocks moved with an effortless authority, stepping past crushed furniture and shattered cobblestone. Crow felt the heat from his mentor's Haki even without direct contact—a quiet, oppressive pressure that bent the air around him. The minor crews dared not speak; even a whisper might draw a glance from Rocks, and no one survived that gaze unscathed.
Ahead, the clash of steel rang sharp against stone. Crow's focus locked onto Shiki and LinLin. The two commanders were poised, weapons nearly touching, eyes locked in a deadly calculation. Each held their own crew behind them like a wall of potential firepower. Crow could feel the tension in the air—the kind that crackled before a storm. Rocks appeared between them, hands crossing in a crisscross hold over their faces. A moment later, both were hurled backward into ruined buildings, the impact shaking the ground and leaving the air humming with residual King Haki.
Crow's breath was steady, eyes narrowing at the display. Rocks had used his flames to move faster, embedding his Haki subtly in every motion, and Crow noted the precision. The world seemed to slow as he observed: the way Shiki's crew flinched in unison, LinLin's children struggling to maintain balance as debris fell around them. Rocks' hands moved like grandmasters' choreography, sending both Shiki and LinLin tumbling without ever breaking the rhythm of the fight.
The plaza's survivors murmured nervously, glancing at Crow as though testing his presence. One of the low-tier captains finally spoke, voice strained with bravado. "Killing one government rat doesn't make you a leader. You—running away with Rocks—have no claim to command. It's our turn. We'll be crowned kings by the emperor!"
Crow's eyes narrowed, and the words seemed to hang in the heat-thick air. "Do you think you are better than the government rats?" he said calmly, voice cutting through the smoke. "You have no clue why they would take such a risk."
The minor crews faltered at the weight behind the words. Some gritted their teeth, unwilling to show fear; others froze completely, realizing the vast gulf between themselves and the threat before them.
LinLin's voice cut sharply through the chaos. "Do your best! Make me proud!" Her children rushed forward, following her orders without hesitation. She ignored the obvious danger. To her, Crow's survival against her best was irrelevant; only success, obedience, and dominance mattered. Even now, she refused to acknowledge the odds against her captains.
Shiki's laughter, low and amused, echoed through the smoke. "Let's see if the boy truly has what Rocks claims." His grin was bloodied and jagged, teeth flashing, the years of battle marked in his face and hands. His crew mirrored the bravado of the minor captains, battered and bruised, yet their resolve unwavering.
Crow observed them all silently, noting every twitch, every shift in posture. He saw how the island itself bore witness: the blackened stones beneath his feet, the skeletal remains of once-proud banners, the scent of ash and burnt flesh hanging thick in the air. He didn't speak, didn't act yet—simply watched, cataloging, understanding. Rocks had already planted the seed: Crow's next move would be his own.
"Submit or burn," Crow murmured to himself, a private mantra, though the words seemed to resonate in the plaza. The minor crews shivered at the invisible pressure his presence exerted. They did not yet understand, could not yet comprehend that the boy behind Rocks had absorbed lessons beyond mere combat—Haki, Devil Fruit integration, and sheer instinct honed to deadly precision.
As Crow stepped lightly over a cracked stone, he allowed a small smile. The Sun Steps were forming in his mind. Embedded in Haki, guided by the subtle influence of his Devil Fruit, each step would push the world beneath him, and each step would test these pirates' limits. The first was always the simplest—merely a test. But the final would mark a line none could cross without consequence.
Rocks glanced back, nodding subtly. He understood Crow's intent without words. The minor crews, however, did not.
LinLin's children ran forward, faces set in determination, fully aware that failure could mean her wrath—but oblivious to Crow's control over the chaos around them. Crow allowed them a flicker of safety, a line of unspoken respect for the innocent. The minor crews, however, would find no such mercy.
Smoke, fire, and tension coiled tightly around the plaza. Crow's gaze swept from one battered pirate to the next, his mind calculating each step, each pressure point, each reaction. Rocks had shown him the framework, the principles, but the execution—the Sun Steps—would be his own. And when he moved, the island would remember.
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Scene 2 — Sun Steps: Crow's Inferno
Crow's gaze swept over the plaza, the ruins of Pirate Island framing the remnants of surviving pirates. Smoke and ash twisted upward, carrying the scent of scorched flesh and splintered wood. Each minor crew that had survived the standoff trembled under the pressure of his presence. Some tried to steel themselves, veins popping, teeth gritted, but the aura radiating from Crow alone pressed down like molten stone.
He shifted his weight, the faintest hum emanating from his body. His Devil Fruit subtly intertwined with his Haki, an instinctual embedding learned from Rocks' casual use of flames and Ki. This was no mere display of power—this was precision, artistry, and discipline honed into a weapon of obliteration.
"If any of you feel like submitting," Crow called out, voice low and deliberate, "put your foreheads to the ground. The longer you wait, the hotter it gets. Submit early… how bearable will it be?"
The minor crews flinched, murmurs running through the ranks. Most were already bloodied, their bravado the only thing keeping them upright. Crow's eyes, however, focused solely on Smoothie and Katakuri. They were the only ones capable of understanding, or at least surviving, what he was about to do.
Step One — Crow lifted his right foot and pressed it to the cracked stone plaza. The thud was subtle, almost imperceptible—but the ground beneath it vibrated, sending tremors into every bone of those still standing. The air seemed to thicken, smoke curling and twisting unnaturally. The weaker pirates stumbled, some collapsing instantly, others vomiting from the oppressive pressure.
Step Two — A soft quake radiated from Crow's boots, undulating outward. Debris shifted and cracked, splintered wood groaning under invisible weight. Pirates who had survived the first step staggered, their eyes wide in panic. He did not yet attack them directly; this was the first true test of submission or survival.
Step Three — Crow's foot rose again. The sound of stone cracking echoed like distant thunder. Smoke from the fires around the plaza swirled toward him unnaturally, pulled into the aura he was projecting. The weaker pirates cried out, bodies wracked by invisible pressure and heat. He noted instinctively how each responded—how they staggered, tried to attack or retreat, their timing off by fractions of a second.
Step Four — Crow's aura grew heavier, visible now as faint shimmering heatwaves. He did not need to look; he could feel the movement of life force in the plaza, in the broken pirates around him. He spoke softly, almost to himself, but the words carried across the chaos. "Instinct alone isn't enough for this moment. Smoothie… you should have moved the instant you sensed danger."
Step Five — Crow's aura collapsed inward suddenly, a black hole sucking in heat and energy. Panic rippled among the remaining pirates. The survivors scrambled, unaware that the next step would come from him alone. "If you can survive Step Six, I'll keep you for myself." The few captains left straightened, pride mingling with terror.
Step Six — Crow's boot hovered, energy spiking like the calm before an eruption. He addressed Smoothie and Katakuri directly. "You shouldn't have waited. That hesitation nearly trapped you. Martial arts alone… even without Ki… are enough to handle you." The ground trembled under the Sixth Step as Crow brought his foot down. A miniature sun bloomed in the plaza, heat and plasma radiating outward. Minor pirates screamed, bodies flash-burning under the unrelenting force. Crow's control was absolute; the LinLin children were untouched, Smoothie and Katakuri scorched but alive.
Aftermath — The plaza was a smoldering ruin. Debris twisted in arcs, fire licking the edges of broken buildings. Minor pirates were dead, collapsed, or hiding. Smoothie and Katakuri lay on scorched stone, breathing ragged, eyes wide with a combination of awe and terror. From the cliff, commanders watched in stunned silence. Newgate whispered about the self-generating life force; Rocks allowed a small, approving smile.
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Scene 3 — Commanders' Watch: The Aftermath
The smoldering remains of Pirate Island stretched beneath the cliff where the commanders had gathered. Smoke coiled in the air like serpents, carrying the acrid scent of ash and burnt flesh. Shattered stone, splintered wood, and smoldering banners painted a bleak picture of destruction. Fires licked across debris, occasionally revealing the faint outlines of defeated minor crews.
Newgate's eyes were fixed on the plaza, calculating, measuring, absorbing every ripple of Crow's power. "The life force," he murmured, "it's constant. Self-generating. Even without Ki, he's producing more than anyone should."
John's gaze shifted from Newgate to Crow, brow furrowed. "I… I don't see what you see." Wangshi remained silent, confusion mirroring his own. The line between strength and perception had already begun to separate the top tiers from observers.
Rocks let a faint smile curl on his lips. "That is what a young monster looks like after hatching and growing a little." His gaze didn't leave Crow, noting the subtle flow of energy, the way his Devil Fruit continued to pour life force while his Ki refined it into a nearly infinite cycle.
LinLin's gaze was fixed entirely on Crow, desire simmering dangerously. Her children had been spared, but the command in her eyes didn't waver. Newgate's quiet voice cut across the tension, just enough for her to hear. "Even he cares more for the children than you do."
Rocks stepped slightly forward, voice low and approving. "He doesn't need help. The boy is building himself into something no one—not even the best of the commanders—can fully grasp." The few minor pirates still standing were bloodied, broken in spirit, some crawling toward safety. Their bravado had been shattered by a force far beyond comprehension.
Crow, still at the center, allowed himself a brief glance toward the cliff. Rocks' nod of approval, Newgate's assessment, LinLin's raw desire—all factors he silently cataloged for the next phase of the Pirate Fest. The Sun Steps had defined a boundary; the next moves would reveal who would survive—and who would fall.
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Scene 4 — Shakky & Tsuru: Shadows of Control
The room was dim, lit only by the faint hum of Den Den Mushi screens and the muted glow of lamps reflecting off polished wood. Outside, the calm of the ocean stretched endlessly, a deceptive serenity hiding the storm of strategy and power being discussed within.
Shakky stood with her arms crossed, posture relaxed but commanding. Across from her, Tsuru's expression was taut, eyes sharp with determination. "Thank you for answering," Tsuru said, voice formal but edged with urgency. "I wanted a sit-down to discuss a potential cooperation between Sword and—" she paused, "…Crow."
"I won't be facilitating Crow's development for Sword," Shakky replied. "You want his methods—his Ki—to turn Sword into a proper military wing under you and Garp. You don't want to protect the world. You want to weaponize him."
Tsuru's brow furrowed. "You assume too much."
"Not assumption. Knowledge," Shakky countered, pulling up reports. "I've read every note from Vegapunk. I know about Amber—Lily. I know what was done, what's being done, and what's at risk. You have no idea the magnitude of what you're stepping into."
"And yet you'll cooperate?"
"Yes. I'll feed you the real labs the Elders are backing—the ones you don't know exist. You take them down. If you recover children, use the Calm Belt and hide anything dangerous. But understand: Crow isn't yours. Amber isn't either. Their development stays separate. You don't touch them."
Tsuru's jaw tightened, then she nodded. "Understood."
Shakky tapped the Den Den Mushi. "Gloriosa, we move. LinLin's agents in the New World—quietly, efficiently. No exposure, no mistakes." Gloriosa inclined her head. The calm before the storm stretched around them, but within it, Shakky held control.