One week later.
The skies over Loguetown felt heavy. The air was thick, humid, and smelled of cheap tobacco.
The town square was a sea of people. Thousands of people packed into the plaza, shoulder to shoulder; it looked like a shifting, murmuring ocean of civilians, pirates, Marines, and thieves. They were climbing lampposts, hanging out of windows, and crowding onto rooftops.
They were all here for one thing. To watch a king die.
Aster D. Rocks stood near the back of the crowd, his large frame hidden beneath a heavy, hooded cloak. Crimson Abyss was strapped to his back, gaining the eyes of people around him.
He looked over the sea of heads. His Observation Haki was a low, constant hum, filtering the noise.
Look at them, Flamey sneered in his mind. Sheeps. Waiting to be told what to do. Waiting for a show.
Aster didn't reply. His golden eyes were scanning the shadows, the alleyways, the places where the real monsters were hiding.
He saw them. All of the future of this cursed era.
In a dark alleyway, a young man with bright red hair pulled a straw hat low over his eyes, tears streaming down his face. Beside him, a boy with a big red nose was sobbing openly. Shanks and Buggy.
On a rooftop, a man with a tattoo on his face and a grim, cold expression stood with his arms crossed, watching the scaffold with eyes that judged the world. Monkey D. Dragon.
Leaning against a wall, a young man with sunglasses and a feather coat grinned, a vein throbbing in his forehead as if he were anticipating a feast. Doflamingo.
A swordsman with hawk-like eyes stood silently in the crowd, his presence sharp enough to cut the air. Mihawk.
A man with a cigar and a hook for a hand. A massive, onion-shaped man with a creepy grin.
They were all here. The heavyweights. The ones who would tear the world apart in the vacuum left by the King.
"Here he comes!" someone shouted.
A roar went up from the crowd. It wasn't a cheer; it was a wall of sound, a mix of awe, hatred, and excitement.
Gol D. Roger walked up the steps to the execution platform.
Chains rattled on his wrists, but he didn't look like a prisoner. He looked like a conqueror taking his throne. He held his head high, his mustache wide, a grin plastered on his face.
But Aster heard the truth.
Through the Voice of All Things, Aster heard the song of Roger's body. It was a dying song. It was a broken, rattling melody.
He's finished, Aster thought.
On the platform, Roger sat down. He looked out at the crowd.
Finally, Roger thought, the grin on his face hiding the agony in his chest. It's done.
As he took a deep breath, his lungs burned. It wasn't just the executioner's blades he was waiting for. It was the sickness. The "gift" Xebec had left him.
Fourteen years ago, in God Valley, Xebec's final, corrosive wave of Haki hadn't just burned their skin. It had infected their wills. It had planted a seed of rot deep in their Haki reserves. It was a cancer of the soul.
Whitebeard felt it in his chest. Roger felt it in his lungs. It had eaten away at their lifespan, year by year, turning the strongest men in the world into dying embers.
You bastard, Xebec, Roger thought. You really did get the last laugh. You took us with you.
But it was fine. He had done it. He had found the 'treasure'. He had reached the end. The boy, Joyboy, wasn't born yet, but he had set the stage. The next generation would finish what he started. The Will of D would continue. The Rocks' bloodline was dead. The threat was gone.
He was ready to die.
The executioners raised their blades. The crowd held its breath. The silence was absolute.
"Hey, Pirate King!" a random man in the crowd shouted, his voice cracking with desperation. "Where is it? Where did you hide it? The treasure! The One Piece!"
"What are you talking about? Is that even real?"
Roger's grin widened. This was it. The cue.
"My treasure?" he bellowed, his voice booming across the plaza without a microphone. "If you want it, you can have it! Search for it! I left everything I gathered together in one place!"
"Wait!! It's real?"
"No way!!!"
"Get the ship ready, you bastard!!"
The crowd erupted. Men screamed. The executioners panicked. The blades began to fall.
Roger closed his eyes. It is done.
And then, just as his consciousness began to drift into the dark... a voice entered his mind.
"Hahaha..."
It was a cold, deep, mocking laughter. It didn't come from his ears. It drilled directly into his brain, carried by a frequency he hadn't ever heard.
"Looks like even after ganging up on him... you rats still got your ass beaten so bad."
Roger's eyes snapped open. The blades were inches from his neck.
What?
He froze. Time seemed to stretch into infinity. This voice... this feeling... it was the Voice of All Things.
He frantically searched the crowd with his Haki, but his body was too weak, the sickness too deep. He couldn't pinpoint the source.
"Who..." Roger projected the thought, his mind reeling. "How... how do you know that?"
"You don't have the right to ask," the voice replied. It was filled with a hate so pure it felt like ice. "Just remember this, 'Pirate King'. I will destroy your legacy. I will burn your 'Great Era' to ash. And I will hunt down every single person you ever considered close. I swear it on my father's name... Rocks D. Xebec."
"And my mother's name... Eris D. Xebec."
Roger's heart stopped.
"HOW?!" Roger screamed internally, his mind flailing. "HOW DO YOU KNOW THIS?! BOTH HIS SONS DIED! I SAW IT! I SAW THE BODY! I SAW-"
CRACK.
It was the sound of a mirror shattering in his mind.
Fourteen years ago, Eris had planted a memory. A lie so perfect it had become reality. But now, faced with the undeniable truth of this voice, the lie crumbled.
The memory of the dead boy in the mud... shifted. The fog lifted.
He saw the truth. He saw the Marine jumping in front of the child. He saw the boy being carried away into the jungle. He saw the boy surviving.
Roger's eyes went wide, filled with a horror he hadn't felt even when facing death.
"Y-You..." Roger stammered mentally. "Aster?!"
"Sad," Aster's voice whispered. "Sad that you won't be able to tell anyone. You take this secret to hell with you."
The blades touched his skin.
"Now, go die," Aster commanded. "Enjoy your time in hell. But don't worry. Lucky for you... I will send your whole squad to join you soon."
"Y-YOU!!!" Roger tried to shout, tried to warn someone, anyone. But his body was paralyzed.
"Die, you piece of shit," Aster hissed. "For a bastard like you, you have lived long enough."
Roger tried to flare his Haki one last time.
But before he could, something else entered his mind.
A black-red flame.
It wasn't physical fire. It was a spiritual inferno. A power of the Sol Ragnarok. It latched onto Roger's fading consciousness, onto his very soul.
And it bit.
It devoured.
"N-no way..." Roger's final thought was a scream of pure disbelief as he felt the nature of the power consuming him. "You... you have THAT fruit?!"
The flames ate him. His mind, his will, his final words... they were swallowed by the void.
SHLINK.
The blades crossed.
Gol D. Roger's head fell forward. His body went limp.
The crowd roared. People were running, shouting about the One Piece, about the sea.
Aster stood in the back of the crowd. He watched the blood drip from the scaffold. He felt the 'song' of the Pirate King vanish from the world, eaten by the fire in his own soul.
FUCK YEAH! Flamey shrieked in his mind, pumping a mental fist. THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT! KING OF THE PIRATES? MORE LIKE KING OF THE SNACKS! HAHAHAHA!!
Aster felt a cold satisfaction settle in his gut. It didn't fix anything. It didn't bring Teach back. But it was a start.
"This is just the beginning," Aster whispered.
He turned away from the scaffold. The rain began to fall, washing the streets. The crowd was surging past him, running toward their ships, to chase their dreams.
Aster walked against the tide; soon, he will be the one hunting them. He adjusted the axe on his back.
He had a boat to catch, and a world to burn.
He reached the edge of the crowd, heading toward the darker docks where his sloop was moored.
Just as he was about to step into the alleyway, Aster felt it.
A hand landed on his shoulder.
Aster stopped. His blood ran cold.
He hadn't sensed it.
His Observation Haki was active. He could feel the rats in the sewers. But he had not felt this man approach. He had simply... appeared. Like a ghost.
"You are just like that bastard."
Aster's eyes widened. He knew that tone.
He spun around, his hand flying to the hilt of Crimson Abyss.
'What is he doing here?!'