Lucian stood calmly on the massive deck of the Moby Dick, his mismatched eyes scanning the gathered giants of the sea. All the members of the white beard crew were just standing there watching him.
Every man on this ship seemed tense, as if ready to jump him, every one of them had their sights locked onto the small, strange boy who had materialized in the center of their ship like a ghost.
The silence was finally broken by the thump-thump of sandals against the aged wood. A man with a distinctive pineapple-shaped hairstyle stepped forward as he glared at Lucian. Marco the Phoenix, First Division Commander.
He moved forward like he wasn't worried, though His casual posture was a lie. Lucian could see the blue flames flickering around his body, ready at any moment.
"Who are you, yoi?" Marco demanded, his voice sharp. "Do you know where you are? We don't take kindly to uninvited guests dropping onto our ship."
Lucian didn't flinch. He offered a shallow, graceful bow as he gave Marco a whitebeard a smile. "My apologies for the lack of a proper introduction. My name is Lucian Lux Raum. I am a merchant... of a sort."
Marco's eyes narrowed, sweeping over Lucian's small stature as he looked at him, taking in everything about the kid. To Marco, he just looked like a child playing. "A merchant? You look more like a stray brat who's lost his way. How did you get on our ship?" he repeated. He really wanted to know how the boy came here.
Lucian's hand moved slowly toward his inner coat pocket. Instantly, the sound of a dozen swords being drawn out rang out, but he paid them no mind.
Vista tensed, his hands resting on his famous sabers, Jozu's skin took on a dim, diamond-like sheen in the sunlight. Everyone seemed ready for if he made a move.
"Easy, gentlemen," Lucian said, his voice smooth for a kid his age. He slowly finished the motion, pulling out a familiar flyer. "I believe someone here called for me with something like this."
"Ah..." a voice muttered from the side. Vista, the Flower Sword, scratched the back of his head, looking uncharacteristically sheepish as the rest of the crew turned toward him. He reached into his own pocket and pulled out an identical flyer. "That would be me. Sorry, Marco. I found it in a port back on the last island. I didn't think it would actually... well, work. It was a long shot," he muttered the last part quietly.
Marco sighed, the tension in his shoulders dropping an inch, though his eyes remained razor-sharp. "So, 'Merchant.' What do you have to offer? We are the strongest crew on the sea. We aren't in the market for trinkets and spices."
"Well," Lucian said, his gaze drifting past Marco to the mountain of a man sitting on the throne behind them. "I have much to offer, yet very little that a crew of your caliber would usually care for. Most men want gold, fame, and a way to escape their debts. You already have the first two and have no need for the third. So there's little I can give."
"Then you can leave, if you know that," Marco stated flatly. "We're busy men."
Whitebeard had been silent since Lucian's arrival, his golden eyes observing the boy with detached interest, not even bothered. He noticed the way the boy looked at him since he arrived, and was curious where this was going.
"It's true I don't have much for you, Commander," Lucian continued, raising his voice so it carried to the throne. He looked Whitebeard straight in the eyes, ignoring the giants in between. "But I have one thing I can offer the Captain. I can see here... that you aren't quite feeling how you used to, Edward Newgate. The sea is getting heavier, isn't it? Those tubes must be feeling like shackles right now."
All the crew members started yelling at Lucian, and some even seemed to try to rush at him, wanting to attack him, only for them to be stopped by others.
A wave of Conqueror's Haki rolled off the old man, the pressure cracked the deck wood and made the weaker crewmen stumble and clutch their heads. Had Lucian not been ensconced in the absolute protection of an active "Deal," he would have been crushed into the boards instantly. To the pirates, it looked like the boy was simply standing before their pops, the strongest man in the world, yet his smile remained perfectly intact, and he didn't even flinch.
"Enough, you brats!" Whitebeard's voice rumbled, slamming the butt of his massive naginata onto the deck. The shockwave silenced everyone. He leaned forward, his massive frame casting a shadow over Lucian. "What does a mere brat, greener than the grass, hope to offer me? I am Whitebeard. I have everything a man could want."
"Well, from what I've heard around the world and can see, you're not doing all that well," Lucian said, his carefree tone clashing with the Emperor's presence. The scowl on Whitebeard's face deepened, but Lucian pressed on. "I may have something that can help you."
The Haki vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by silence. Marco stepped forward, his face pale with a mixture of hope and fury. "Are you saying you can cure Pops? Don't play games with us, kid. If you're lying to us, I'll burn you until there's nothing left but ash to scatter in the wind."
"Cure him? No." Lucian smirked, his eyes glowing with devilish light. "I can do something much better. I can return your youth."
The world seemed to freeze. Every pirate on the Moby Dick stopped breathing. The sound of the waves against the hull seemed to fade into the background.
"What?" Marco and Whitebeard said in unison, both equally shocked.
"What kind of Devil Fruit power is that?" Jozu barked, his voice like grinding stones. "I've heard something about that Jewelry girl? Or is this some trick, something from the World Government? Is this a Marine trick?"
"No Devil Fruit," Lucian replied, his voice taking on a melodic quality. "Just a fair exchange, and I will simply give the old man back his youth."
The Haki returned tenfold, it was so powerful that Lucian was sure Whitebeard was not even holding back to protect his crew and knocked out the weaker half of the crew instantly. Men slumped over railings and collapsed onto the deck.
Lucian, though, kept his smile, though he was secretly thanking every deity and demon he knew that his Protection was as absolute as the power claimed. He was gambling with who was arguably the most 2nd most powerful man on this planet.
"Gurarararararararararar!" Whitebeard's laughter was a thunderous sound that shook the ship. He slammed his weapon again, the vibrations moving through even Lucian this time. "That's a bold joke you've got there, squirt!"
"I assure you, I have never been more serious," Lucian said, his voice dropping an octave.
Whitebeard's laughter died down, replaced by a sharp stare and silence that was far more terrifying than it should have been. "Even if it was true, so what... why should I agree? I have passed my prime, and I have enjoyed my life. I have raised my sons, I have carved my name into history, and I have no regrets. If I die tomorrow, I die a happy man surrounded by my family."
"Pops, no!" "Don't talk like that, Pops!" The crew's protests were a chorus of desperation, but Whitebeard ignored them, his gaze fixed solely on Lucian.
"True," Lucian shrugged, pacing in a small circle on the deck. "But do you truly have no regrets? Your children are grown, yes, but are they ready for the storm that's brewing? Red-Hair came here to warn you, didn't he? And you refused to listen from what I saw?."
Whitebeard's eyes narrowed until they were golden slits. "I don't have time for riddles, boy. Speak your piece or get off my ship," he was annoyed at the mention of red hair.
"Ace has been captured by Marshall D. Teech and handed over to the Navy," Lucian stated, the words falling like heavy stones into a still pond. "He is to be publicly executed in Marineford soon. The World Government is going to use your son's life as bait to draw you into a cage and kill you."
The deck exploded into a riot of denial and rage. Several pirates lunged at Lucian, their blades not reaching him as they were all pushed back.
Whitebeard's face went nearly full crimson from rage at the audacity of the boy before him.
"SILENCE!" the Emperor roared, standing up fully, pulling all the tubes on his body with him. He towered over Lucian, the medical tubes tearing away from his chest with wet, snapping sounds, his presence so massive it felt like the sky was physically falling. "Do you know who you are talking to, boy? Do you think I would believe such a hollow, disgusting lie about one of my sons?"
At that exact moment, a News Coo circled overhead, terrified by the Haki but compelled to deliver the news. It dropped a fresh bundle of newspapers and fled at top speed, not even waiting for payment.
The paper landed in the center of the deck, fluttering open. Lucian didn't even have to pick it up, the headline was visible in giant, black ink that seemed to scream off the page: PORTGAS D. ACE TO BE EXECUTED.
Marco snatched the paper, his hands trembling as he read the details aloud to the stunned crew.
Whitebeard sat back down, the weight of the news visibly aging him further in an instant. He looked at his sons, their faces filled with a mixture of grief, shock, and a burning, suicidal need for war. Then, he looked at Lucian.
"As I was saying," Lucian said, his tone a little amused, and had whitebeard wanting to stand and smack him.
Lucian had not been responsible for the paper, honestly he was as surprised at it as any of them here, but he kept his composure and moved on.
"You won't leave a son behind. We both know that. But if you go to Marineford like this, you will die, we both know that. And if you die, your sons will follow you into the grave trying to protect what remains of a dying legacy. Do you want to go to war as a dying relic, or as the man the World Government feared enough to challenge him with the entire world."
Whitebeard was silent for a long time, the only sound being the fluttering of the newspaper in Marco's hand. Finally, he spoke, his voice a low growl. "How much?"
"Twenty years," Lucian said. "Nothing too drastic. I wouldn't want you looking like a toddler, and I'm sure Garp would have a heart attack if you showed up looking nineteen. Twenty years back puts you back in your prime."
"And the payment?" Marco asked, stepping forward, his eyes burning with a desperate, frantic hope. "Whatever money you want, the treasures of a dozen islands, name it."
"I don't want money," Lucian waved him off dismissively. "Money. I want something far more interesting. I want a 'Copy' of a possession from four of you, Jozu, Blamenco, Marco, and, of course, the Captain himself. Five years of youth restored for each copy I take."
"A copy of our possessions?" Whitebeard asked, confused. To him, it sounded too cheap. Too easy. A "copy" implied they lost nothing. But his instinct in his gut, the same one that had kept him alive for seventy years, told him that it wasn't as simple as it appeared. He looked at his sons, then thought of Ace sitting in a cold, dark cell in Impel Down.
It may not be fair, but there really wasn't time to discuss this through.
He exhaled, a sound sigh. "Fine. I accept your terms, Merchant."
Lucian's eyes lit up with an ethereal glow that made the shadows on the deck dance. He turned to the commanders. "And you? Are you willing to pay the price for your father?"
"Whatever it takes for Pops," Marco said firmly. Jozu and Blamenco stepped forward, their faces set in grim, unyielding agreement.
"Then we have a deal."
Lucian clapped his hands once. The sound wasn't loud, but it echoed across the entire sea. Instantly, the Emperor gasped, his eyes flying wide as the grey in his hair bled into a vibrant, sun-drenched yellow.
The deep-set wrinkles on his face smoothed out, the hunched, burdened set of his shoulders straightened. The medical tubes hissed and fell away, the puncture wounds closing instantly. His skin grew taut, and his muscles swelled with a vitality that hadn't been felt since the era of Roger.
BOOM.
A shockwave of Haki erupted from Whitebeard, it cleared the clouds for miles in every direction, revealing a bright, mocking sun.
"GURARARARARARARARARA!!"
Whitebeard stood tall, his naginata feeling like a feather in his hands. He felt alive. The agonizing fire in his chest that had haunted him these recent years was gone, replaced by a roaring furnace of strength.
"And with that," Lucian said, his voice sounding happy as he absorbed the Payment into his body."
Whitebeard looked down at the boy, his new, youthful eyes piercing through Lucian's facade. "What will you take, brat? " Sue him, he was curious.
Lucian offered a small bow. As his business was done, it was time to leave. "Don't worry yourself, Whitebeard. I have already collected my fee."
Lucian flicked a final flyer onto the deck, same as the one Juzo used to call for him. "My card. If you ever find yourself in need of another miracle... though I doubt you'll be able to afford a second time."
In a sudden blink, Lucian vanished, leaving the Whitebeard Pirates standing on a ship deck.
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