A/N: Read 30+ chapters ahead at {patreon.com/Glivaria}
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WEE-WOO! WEE-WOO! WEE-WOO!
The deafening, mechanical wail of the emergency sirens violently shattered the eternal gloom of Impel Down. Red warning lights spun frantically in their iron cages, casting long, jagged, crimson shadows across the damp stone walls.
For the first time in twenty years, the impregnable underwater fortress was under a frontal assault.
At the main entrance, the dust was still settling over a scene of absolute, incomprehensible devastation. The colossal steel double doors—forged to withstand cannon fire from an entire fleet—had been completely ripped from their reinforced hinges. One door was embedded deeply into the far stone wall of the intake room; the other had sunk into the dark waters of the Calm Belt.
Dozens of elite prison guards lay groaning on the floor, their weapons shattered, their armor cracked. They looked up through the smoke, their eyes wide with sheer, unadulterated terror.
A figure stepped through the smoking threshold.
Steam rose from Monkey D. Luffy's skin in thin, white wisps. He didn't gloat. He didn't laugh his usual carefree laugh. He cracked his knuckles, his dark eyes locked dead ahead onto the spiraling stone staircase that descended into the abyss.
"Out of my way!" Luffy roared, his voice carrying a physical weight that made the remaining conscious guards flinch. "Where is Ace?!"
"G-get him!" a guard captain stammered, raising a trembling flintlock pistol. "It's Straw Hat! Don't let him reach the stairwell!"
Before the guard could even pull the trigger, a blur of green and black shot past Luffy.
Zoro didn't even bother drawing Wado Ichimonji. He gripped the scabbards of his three swords tightly, dropping his center of gravity. He bulldozed straight through the line of guards, using the sheer physical mass of his sheathed weapons to violently bludgeon them aside like bowling pins.
"Don't stop, Luffy!" Zoro yelled over the sirens, kicking a heavy iron halberd out of a guard's hand and sending it spinning into the ceiling.
"Yeah!" Luffy shouted back, breaking into a dead sprint.
Sanji dropped from the ceiling rafters—having casually bypassed the front line entirely—and drove his heel directly into the collarbone of a massive, heavily armored jailer. The impact cracked the stone floor beneath the man's boots.
"Left! Go left, Luffy!" Sanji commanded, vaulting over the unconscious jailer and lighting a fresh cigarette on the run. "The architectural layout of these deep-sea facilities usually places the descent stairs near the central axis!"
"Don't listen to him, Luffy! Go right! I can smell the ocean draft coming from the right!" Zoro argued, sprinting right beside the cook, completely ignoring the fact that they were completely submerged underwater.
"You don't even know your left from your right, Marimo! Since when can you smell drafts?!"
"Shut up and run, Curly!"
"FORWARD, YOU IDIOTS!"
A high-pitched, incredibly bossy voice shrieked from the top of the swordsman's head.
Bonney, still trapped in her five-year-old form, was gripping two handfuls of Zoro's green hair like the handlebars of a motorcycle. She aggressively leaned forward, pointing her tiny finger straight down the main corridor toward the heavy iron gate of Level 1.
"Just smash straight through! Don't let the cook tell you what to do, Moss-head!"
"Stop pulling my hair, you little gremlin, or I'm throwing you into the ocean!" Zoro snapped, his lone eye twitching violently as he tried to pry her tiny, surprisingly strong fingers off his scalp.
"Ugh, my legs are falling asleep anyway!" Bonney complained loudly.
A sudden pulse of pink energy washed over her small body. In a fraction of a second, the toddler vanished.
Zoro stumbled forward as the sudden shift in weight caught him off guard. Bonney, now back in her normal, tall, fiercely athletic adult form, hit the stone floor running right beside him. Her oversized clothes instantly fit her frame perfectly again. She stretched her long arms, a wild, thrilled grin spreading across her face.
"Much better," Bonney laughed, cracking her neck. "That kid body has zero reach! Let's crack some skulls!"
The vanguard tore down the spiral stairs, bursting through the heavy iron portcullis that marked the beginning of the prison proper.
They stepped into Level 1. The Crimson Hell.
The air instantly changed. The temperature dropped, but the atmosphere grew incredibly thick. The scent of rusted iron and dried blood assaulted their noses.
They stood at the edge of a massive, subterranean forest. But it wasn't a natural forest. The leaves on the pale, sickly trees were forged from razor-sharp steel. The grass beneath their boots wasn't vegetation; it was a dense field of upward-facing needles, designed to pierce the soles of anyone forced to run through it.
The stone walls surrounding the forest were lined with hundreds of dark, damp cells. Prisoners in striped uniforms pressed their bruised, bleeding faces against the iron bars, their eyes wide as they watched the four pirates casually stroll into the torture chamber.
"What the hell is this place?" Sanji muttered, looking at the blood-dyed needle grass.
"A meat grinder," Zoro answered grimly, his boots crunching against the needles. His physical toughness prevented the spikes from piercing his boots, but he could imagine what it did to barefoot prisoners.
Suddenly, a massive platoon of thirty Impel Down guards burst from the trees ahead. They were dressed in heavy protective gear to survive the bladed environment, wielding long spears and rifles.
"Intruders! Execute them!" the platoon leader screamed.
"I got this!" Bonney cheered, bursting forward with terrifying speed.
"Hey! Don't run off on your own!" Sanji yelled, though he was instantly distracted by how her suspenders snapped against her hips.
Bonney didn't draw a weapon. She vaulted off the trunk of a bladed tree, flipping gracefully over the front line of guards. As she landed in the center of the platoon, she reached out, her palms glowing with a vibrant, pulsating pink energy. She didn't even need to strike them directly; she simply swept her hands through the air, brushing the auras of the men around her.
The platoon descended into absolute chaos.
Half of the heavily armed guards instantly morphed. Ten of them shrank rapidly, their heavy armor swallowing them whole as they transformed into crying, diaper-wearing infants. The heavy iron spears clattered harmlessly to the floor.
The other half rapidly aged. Their hair turned white and fell out. Their muscles withered into skin and bone. They hit the stone floor clutching their backs, their armor suddenly too heavy for their frail spines to support.
"My sciatica!" an elderly guard wheezed, dropping his rifle as his dentures fell onto the needle grass. "Has anyone seen my walking cane?"
"WAAAAAHHH!" a baby guard screamed from inside a pile of steel breastplates.