The World Governnt’s latest sche was clear—they wanted the two overlords of the New World to destroy each other. To accelerate the conflict, they even attempted to manipulate the D Clan into turning against the Hell Pirates.
Both Rocks and Roger frowned upon hearing this news. Cooperation between them was impossible—their rivalry ran too deep, rooted in hatred that could only end in death. As for joining forces with Garp, the idea was laughable. The notion of a united D Clan was nothing more than a fantasy.
New World, New Beehive Island—forrly Skull Island. Its structures, carved into the shape of a colossal skull, lood ominously beneath the stormy skies.
Inside the fortress, Rocks sat alone, reading reports about Brook’s alleged enslavent of the D Clan. His expression darkened with every word.
“How many D families has that thief stolen from ?” he growled, his rage simring. The docunts were full of unverified claims, but even so, they gnawed at his pride.
Rocks considered himself the rightful leader of the D Clan—the dawn that would one day overthrow the Celestial Dragons. To see Brook rising as a “new ssiah” of the D bloodline was an insult he could not tolerate. And as for Roger and Garp, those traitorous fools only deepened his fury.
“Captain Rocks! A girl is outside—she claims to be of the D Clan and requests an audience!”
The subordinate’s voice was trembling. The D Clan’s na carried weight, both as enemies of the Celestial Dragons and as living targets of assassination. Under the shadow of Brook’s growing fa, their bloodline had beco both revered and cursed.
“Another D?” Rocks’ eyes narrowed. Every D was supposed to be extraordinary. Even the weakest among them—Saul—had reached the rank of Vice Admiral. How could there still be an unknown one?
He gestured. “Bring her in.”
Monts later, a young girl stepped into the hall. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen, with dark curls and trembling hands.
Rocks’s glare was enough to make her knees buckle. Too weak. Strength was the essence of the D bloodline, and this girl’s feeble aura disgusted him.
His killing intent filled the room, suffocating her. The air itself seed to freeze.
“Lord Rocks! Please—spare ! I’ve co to offer you sothing invaluable!” she cried out desperately. “A forbidden dical art from the Ancient Era—a thod that allows a person to consu two Devil Fruits!”
At those words, Rocks froze. His murderous aura vanished in an instant.
“What did you just say?”
The girl swallowed hard. “A secret technique erased from the world eight hundred years ago—a thod that defies the natural curse.”
For the first ti in years, Rocks was silent. Then, slowly, his lips twisted into a wild grin.
“Two Devil Fruits… God truly favors !” He began to laugh, his booming voice echoing through the skull-shaped fortress. “Brook is no ssiah—he’s a thief who stole what belongs to the D Clan! But I, Rocks D. Xebec, will take back everything!”
The girl, Marshall D. Tim, presented her research in trembling hands. Rocks studied it carefully, his excitent fading into contemplation. The technique was incomplete—it could not yet resolve his current weakness. But even so, he saw its value.
He spared her life, secretly protecting the Marshall family and granting them wealth and safety.
···
anwhile, far across the sea, Brook had his own objectives.
He sought the Roger Pirates—not only to secure their genes for his lineage project, but also to ensure Rocks and Roger could never join forces.
But Roger, with his ability to hear the voice of all things, easily evaded Brook’s surveillance. Den Den Mushi and news networks were useless against him.
Faced with Roger’s deliberate silence, Brook could only bide his ti. He would strengthen his forces first.
His focus turned to science—assisting Vegapunk in advancing the artificial Devil Fruit and Seraph projects. As for the technology allowing objects to eat fruits, it was a lesser priority.
Egghead Island.
“You’re saying these robots date back nine hundred years?” Brook asked, examining the rusted chanical giants. “And another one attacked the Holy Land centuries ago?”
Vegapunk nodded, his enlarged head gleaming under the lab lights. “I found records of the event in the Tree of Knowledge’s archives. The robot that attacked Mary Geoise centuries ago looked nearly identical to these. I believe the World Governnt still possesses a functioning one.”
Brook’s eyes widened. “You an it survived for over six hundred years?”
“The records claim its energy core failed mid-battle,” Vegapunk explained. “Otherwise, it might have destroyed the Holy Land entirely.”
Brook frowned. The idea that civilization had once been more advanced than it was now seed absurd. “How could the technology of nine hundred years ago surpass ours? How could it vanish?”
“The Hundred Years’ War,” Vegapunk answered softly. “It wiped out the era’s progress. Entire fields of science were lost when the Great Kingdom fell.”
Brook clenched his fist. “Those Twenty Kings truly erased everything… but why not use that power themselves? If they conquered a nation of advanced science, why rely on wooden ships and wind sails?”
The contradiction gnawed at him. “If I could travel back in ti, I’d slap the author who wrote this nonsense.”
He sighed deeply, then composed himself. “Vegapunk, aside from Pluton, all experints must proceed simultaneously. Produce more clones. We don’t have ti to study one thing at a ti.”
“Yes, Captain,” Vegapunk said, bowing. “I’ll accelerate the process.”
Though young, Vegapunk’s brilliance was undeniable. His Brain-Brain Fruit granted him infinite mory, but he still required ti—ti to learn, to absorb, to think.
Brook didn’t bla him. At eighteen, the scientist had already accomplished more than most could in a lifeti.
Leaving Egghead behind, Brook looked toward the horizon. He had plans to discuss with Shakky, and the last red Poneglyph from Zou Island awaited him.
------------
Fishman Island—Ruins of an Ancient Deep-Sea City.
In the cold depths, a group of fishn moved cautiously through the dark blue water. At their center swam the goldfish rmaid Ariel, a proud mber of the Hell Pirates. This expedition was her own initiative—a personal mission to uncover the mysteries that even the Sea Kings whispered about.
Over ti, Ariel’s Observation Haki had evolved into sothing extraordinary. She could now sense not only emotions but also the very thoughts of intelligent beings. Her will could influence others’ minds, ignite empathy, and even alter their beliefs and values.
It was a terrifying ability—one that rivaled even the strongest forms of mind control granted by Devil Fruits.
On Fishman Island, Ariel’s power had drawn many loyal followers. Her faction had beco the island’s second-largest force, rivaling even the royal family’s authority. Yet, she never sought to overthrow Mars or plunge the island into conflict. Her goal was unity, not domination.
Lately, however, sothing strange had happened. She began to hear the voices of the Sea Kings themselves—ancient, deep voices echoing from the abyss. At first, she thought she had awakened the sa mysterious power Brook once ntioned—the ability to “hear the voice of all things.”
Through those whispers, she learned of a secret buried in the ruins below—sothing so sacred that the Sea Kings guarded it for centuries. Driven by curiosity and loyalty, Ariel led her team to investigate. She hadn’t told Brook or anyone else. She wanted this to be her gift to the Hell Pirates.
“Lady Ariel!” called a swordfish rman scout, swimming back with urgency. “This site is even more complete than the last one where we found the historical text!”
Ariel’s golden tail glimred as she nodded. “Good. But move carefully. Don’t disturb the Sea Kings.”
The group pressed forward into the ruins, unaware that sothing ancient had already taken notice of them.
At a frequency beyond mortal hearing, faint, resonant voices murmured in the depths:
“Is she the one?”
“Yes. She has awakened the power to hear fragnts of our speech—similar to the King’s gift. And she is a pure-blooded rmaid.”
“Then let her beco the next Mother Host. The Queen’s body must inherit this ability.”
“If the appointed ti hadn’t co yet, I would have chosen her to bear the King directly.”
“The King will be born in thirty years. This one will be old by then.”
“Then awaken what was left here. Let the King’s blood enter her. It will grow and mature within the Mother’s body.”
“Even if it weakens her… the sacrifice will be worth it.”
As the whispers faded, the entire ruin trembled. Machinery long thought dead ca to life.
“Lady Ariel! The ruins—they’re moving!” shouted a rman guard.
A blinding pulse of energy engulfed them. The pressure was overwhelming. Before they could react, a crushing aura swept through the ruins.
Ariel’s eyes widened in terror before darkness claid her.
Am I… going to die here?
In her fading consciousness, regret welled up. She had wanted to prove herself—to bring glory to Fishman Island and to Captain Brook. Instead, she had led her team to their doom.
But fate had other plans.
When Ariel awoke, she was floating inside a transparent chamber filled with glowing fluid. tallic arms hovered nearby, tending to her body. A humanoid machine—its design ancient yet impossibly advanced—gently injected her with a golden liquid before returning her to her team’s resting place.
A faint radiance shone from her abdon.
Hours passed. Then, to her horror, Ariel’s belly began to swell—as though she were with child.
According to rmaid biology, those who kept their tails remained oviparous, laying eggs externally once they reached maturity. Only rmaids who shed their tails at thirty could give live birth. Yet sohow, Ariel—barely in her twenties—was carrying an egg within her body.
Such a phenonon was unheard of.
Her guards awoke one by one, staring in disbelief.
“L-Lady Ariel… your belly…” one stamred, his gills fluttering in shock. “You’re… pregnant?”
“Impossible!” gasped another. “Who could the father be?”
Ariel looked down, trembling. A golden glow pulsed faintly from within her abdon. “W-What… what is this?”
Her face flushed with panic. “No! I haven’t even— I wasn’t ready to be a mother!”
The guards exchanged uncertain glances. One brave dolphin rman stepped forward, his voice soft and trembling. “Ariel-sama… if you require a father for the child, I—I can…”
“Ocean Current Shockwave!”
A burst of swirling water sent the poor rman crashing into the ruins. Ariel’s cheeks were crimson with fury and embarrassnt.
“Get lost!” she roared. “The father of my child will be a great man, not so lovesick fool!”
Her angry voice echoed through the deep ruins, mingling with the silent hum of ancient machines—machines that had already begun their long, hidden work.
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