One Piece: Path to Power

[2670 words]

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The reticent swordsman made it to his destination, looking atop a cliff and making out the shape of a person.

A flash of thunder and Indra appeared behind the resting Damien, overlooking the horizon. He waited patiently as his Commander breathed in the night's cold air.

"What's up?" 

Indra remained straight as a flagpole as he announced, "There are things you should know."

Damien gave a soft hum as he glanced at his right-hand man. "Don't be so rigid," he casually waved at Indra. "Sit."

Indra blinked and sat beside Damien, letting his legs hang off the cliff.

"..."

A wry smile was etched on Damien's face as he stifled a chuckle. "Let me guess, it's that power you showed back at God Valley," he said, glancing at the dark markings across Indra's body.

"Yes."

Damien shifted toward the swordsman, striking a smile, "Storytime? Let's do it."

Indra nodded, remembering the tales that were told to him while he was young. "Well, it all began around two hundred years ago…"

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[Marineford]

[Year of 1285]

A muscular mat sat in a grand office at the ever-stable Navy Headquarters and glanced at the marine before him. He had dark pants, a gray shirt, a blue undershirt, and a hat. He had a marine coat draped over his shoulder, sporting blue-coloured epaulettes.

"F-Fleet Admiral."

The veteran marine put aside a few papers, giving the other man his undivided attention.

"So, what mess did you make this time, Sosen?"

Sosen had white hair and a white mustache, boasting a dignified monocle. The man cheekily smiled, "Well, I heard the Science Unit made another discovery with the experiment." řàΝŐＢÊ𝘚

The words drew a frown from Suroviy, the Fleet Admiral. "We've been over this, Sosen. As a Vice Admiral, you shouldn't be so stubborn about these things."

Sosen sighed, boldly airing his frustrations, "With all due respect, Fleet Admiral, I followed that string of intel in hopes that the ones I was going after were criminals… not children!"

However, his heartfelt thoughts were dismissed. "You came to me hoping for heftier missions; I gave you one that paid nicely," the top marine rebutted. Half a billion berries for all four of them."

Sosen gritted his teeth, looking to the floor in shame. "They were children, and Cipher Pol was up my ass!" he cried out, clenching his teeth. "I regret turning them in."

The Fleet Admiral looked through his drawer and pulled out another file containing four pages of paper. "Those children are wanted criminals of history—you did a good thing bringing them in."

Sosen obviously was not accepting of his boss' words as he tried to speak up once more. "They had barely even lived their lives, Suroviy-san, the–"

Bang!

Suroviy smashed his fist into the desk.

"They were Lunarians!" He glared at Sosen with razor-sharp eyes, "When it comes to the rule of the Celestial Dragons, you do as told! There's no time to pity the ones being wronged! If anything, it was their fault for being born into a clan that lost!"

The prestigious marine shook his head, huffing a tired sigh. "Go home, Sosen."

Seeing his argument fall apart, the Vice Admiral had no choice but to relent. He left the office with a twisted expression.

[Sosen Image (in Discord)]

…

"Lunarians?" Damien suddenly asked. 

Indra hummed. He raised his right hand, counting on his fingers while listing the main features of the god-like clan: "Dark skin, white hair, black wings and the ability to ignite their bodies; incredible physical prowess and regenerative qualities."

Damien hummed, recalling the bits he knew from his past and from Ohara: "They resided in the Kingdom of Gods at the Red Line before their position was ripped away by the First Twenty, followed by their extermination."

"I hear the Government gives a handsome reward of 100 million berries for simple information regarding their kind. No wonder they would blow up at the capture of four such children."

Indra sighed and had to agree. "Yes, but it was the incredible mechanics of their strength that made them get chased down by the Government…"

…

A light shone off Sosen's monocle as he expressionlessly watched the night set in and the horizon darkened. 

"Puru," "Puru," "Puru."

"Katcha~!"

"It's me, Sosen," the snail said, taking on the figure of a cloaked figure. 

The man on the other side of the call didn't allow the Vice Admiral to speak as he made his complaints heard: "You know, just calling you is akin to a major crime!" 

"Come on, it's me, your buddy from war," Sosen wryly laughed. "While I kicked ass on the frontlines, you were doing your thing with MCIS!" The joking tone warped into pleading, "I just want to know about that experiment, and I'll never call you again!" 

"…"

The snail hesitated for a moment and then seemed to look around, his actions conveyed by the snail's cautious movements.

"Fine, listen up." The man's voice grew softer and quieter, "The Science Unit used the individual DNA of three of the four Lunarian spawns already; the cloning failed, leading to the death of the corresponding child."

Sosen breathed heavily, recalling the eight to ten-year-old winged kids he had arrested, a miserable feeling budding in his heart. "Damn those assholes!" he cursed.

"What about the fourth one?" Sosen asked with a hint of hope.

The snail heaved a sigh, a hint of pity in its eyes. "They were able to learn from the failure of the other three…"

"So the child lives!?"

"Let me finish!" the snail hissed. "They cloned the genome structure of the fourth Lunarian into the DNA of ten orphans. Unfortunately, the transfer of the genome had little success… I'm sorry, Sosen, but they will surely expunge those ten failed experiments any day now."

.

The news brought great despair to the Vice Admiral's face.

A few images flashed through his mind, that of his dying wife, who was able to be saved from the money he received. He didn't regret it then, but he did now. Especially since his wife died from a pirate strike a few months ago, leaving him with nothing but a buzzing sense of guilt…

But guilt alone wasn't what gnawed at him; it was the bitter realization that he had been complicit in the very machine he once believed served justice.

His hands trembled as he clenched them into fists, recalling the children's terrified faces when he handed them over. "They were just kids," he muttered, his voice breaking the silence. The thought of them enduring experimentation, screaming for mercy in some cold, sterile lab—it sickened him.

The words of his Fleet Admiral echoed in his mind, sharp and condemning: "There's no time to pity the ones being wronged!"

No time for pity? What kind of justice was that? What kind of man had he become? Sosen had devoted his life to the Marines, believing in their ideals, only to find himself a pawn in a game of power and privilege. His wife was gone, the Navy had stripped him of any honour he thought he had, and the haunting faces of the children weighed like a noose tightening around his neck. If he had nothing left to lose, then perhaps he could at least make right the worst of his sins.

"I need one more favour, old friend…"

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[A Facility on a Remote Island in the Grand Line]

It was visibly a government facility. The halls were well-laid with concrete and expensive materials. Yet under its majesty was a blaring alarm, echoing through the maze-like hallways.

Dozens of marine squads clamoured about, rushing to the same point where an invader had appeared.

"There's only one confirmed enemy. We must stop him!" the lead marine roared.

.

"One Sword Style: Beautiful Death!"

.

The chirping sound appeared out of nowhere, easily overshadowing the blaring alarms and inched near a company of soldiers.

"Auughh!"

"Ugh!"

"My leg!"

The enemy whizzed through the fallen marines, rushing to a particular area almost as if he knew what was waiting there for him.

Boom!

The wall exploded, allowing entrance to the sole invader. Naturally, the man was Sosen.

He desperately looked around through the cloud of smoke, his Haki scanning the inner facility. Soon enough, his eyes landed on a group of ten children huddling in the corner of a glass chamber, fearfully staring at the swordsman.

Sosen immediately sheathed his weapon, raising his hands in surrender as he walked toward the enclosure.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, kiddos…" he whispered, touching the glass.

Inside, he saw a winged, dark-skinned child strung to a stretcher, his eyes shut with blood leaking from every orifice. "Dammit!" Sosen cursed under his breath, though the living children once again took his attention away.

The little ones all had dark skin like the dead Lunarian, minus the wings, and their bodies were covered entirely with white clothing, marking them as research subjects.

Casting his pride as a marine off like chains, Sosen desperately implored them, "Come with me! I'll get you all to safety!"

Perhaps it was the desperate gleam in the ex-soldier's eyes or the sincere yearning in his voice, but it was enough for one of the braver children to reach out and take the man's hand.

Much to Sosen's surprise, the hand that reached out had dark markings running all over it, like tattoos.

…

"A marine with a moral compass and the balls to act on it," Damien voiced out with amusement. "How rare such a thing is in the rank of Vice Admiral."

Indra slightly smiled, recalling the old tales. "Sosen saved the ten children in a moment of impulse, but he ended up saving a newly created species of people," the swordsman muttered, once again glancing at the markings over his arms.

Damien hummed in agreement. "Though if your people were truly cloned Lunarians, then it's no wonder they would deem it a failure."

Indra slowly nodded. Evidently, he did not have any wings. "The only thing we seemed to share with that race was our complexion. Otherwise, it seems that the researchers utterly failed. But there was a slight anomaly that we inherited from the experiments…"

…

The mess at the marine facility was quite loud, but the control of the World Government was firm in that era. Within days, a bounty graced the seas, bringing a wave of speculation; after all, it was a reward for an ex-Vice Admiral of the Navy Headquarters!

-----< WANTED >-----

< ZENORA⋅SOSEN >

< 'Ronin' >

< 𝔅 1,000,000,000 - >

< DEAD or ALIVE >

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Such a hefty reward brought great greed into the eyes of bounty hunters.

Beyond that, it was detailed that Sosen had stolen ten research subjects that were plagued with sickness and harboured a malignant disease, making Sosen a true villain. 

They even placed a 100 million reward for the successful retrieval of just one of the said subjects, bringing Sosen's total worth to two billion berries!

…

Naturally, those at the raided research base were quickly questioned—the experiment to clone Lunarians had begun the day they were felled by the First Twenty! Even centuries of failure were met with the relentless pursuit of the god-like clan's power.

…

[Interrogation Room of G-1]

Bang!

A fist slammed into the dimly lit table, sending echoes through it. A single lamp hung from the ceiling, shaking from the interrogator's wrath.

"Sir, please, I'm not lying!"

The words fell on deaf ears: "Sosen stole valuable goods from your facility. Tell me, what should I do now!?"

The lead researcher nervously swallowed as he made his case: "I can assure both you and the Five Elders that those subjects were complete failures. They have little worth!"

The Agent scoffed, crossing his arms. "Then why would a distinguished Vice Admiral stake his life and career to take them away?"

The researcher shook his head wildly, with sweat dripping down his neck. "I-I don't know, but I do know that those ten clones failed to absorb the genomes. They had no wings, nor did they have the ability to ignite themselves on fire!"

"Beyond that, they lacked the physical mechanism of Lunarians; the only thing that successfully transferred was the darkened skin and…"

The man hesitated momentarily, aggravating the Agent, "And what!?"

"A-And a mutated gene deeply embedded in their DNA. Upon inspection, we realized it was an incomplete form of the Lunarian physiology; due to the broken piece, these subjects are prone to a state of uncontrolled anger, boosting their strength–"

"To what level?" the interrogator questioned.

"R-Rivaling the Lunarians," he quacked, "...in theory."

Before the Agent could blow up once more, the researcher made one last attempt to save himself: "All my subordinates can vouch for it. Those kids will kill themselves off in those moments of seething anger. They are doomed to die out as soon as one of them activates that incomplete gene!"

The researcher drove his point home one step further, guaranteeing, "They are of no danger to the World Government!"

"…"

The Agent breathed in, factoring the vehement denials, and put on an indifferent face. "This entire experiment was to recreate the lost Lunarians with the sole purpose of becoming the greatest weapons for the World Government."

"I hope for your and your fellow workers' own good that your theory is correct…otherwise, I would have to hand you to the Head of Torture and Interrogation Division and trust me, you don't want them grilling you."

The researcher gulped and could only nod, hoping he wouldn't be put to the slaughter, cursing Sosen in his heart.

…

Unfortunately for the World Government, there was neither hide nor hair of Ronin Sosen.

Cipher Pol could only continue monitoring the Underworld and other such criminal channels in hopes of finding even a hint of intel regarding the ex-marines. However, they would eventually discover that they simply would never acquire any hint of Sosen for years to come.

…

[A Deserted Island in the New World]

"Alright, come now, kids."

A cloaked Sosen beckoned the little group of children as they walked down the stolen ship with some fear. Soon enough, the soles of their feet hit the marshy ground, embracing what would be their new home.

"Polemos Island," Sosen introduced. "It was once a vibrant forested land, but due to war and battles, the World Government summoned a Buster Call!"

"However, the climate of this part of the New World is dry and easy to spark flames… the salvo of the Marine Warships birthed a fire that burned for decades on end, leaving everything in ashes."

He dug a hand into the soil, feeling its fertility. "That was two centuries ago; now, however, it has regained enough life to be considered quite well-off."

One of the more outgoing children pointed to the sea with some confusion, "What about all that fog?"

Sosen hummed, tipping his monocle to the sea of fog around Polemos Island.

"The fire created a thick smoke that fossilized into a ring around the island due to the New World climate. The thick haze will get anyone lost—it's nearly impossible to reach here."

The swordsman sighed, finding some good in all the bad. "Due to its detrimental state and the Government's desire to appear peaceful, there were only five eternal poses of this island before it was removed from the maps worldwide."

The man showed off an Eternal Pose with the name "Polemos Island" printed onto it.

"Don't worry, this compass is the only survivor of the original five."

[Polemos Island Image (in Discord)]

The ex-vice Admiral was nearly 9 feet tall (2.74 m), needing to kneel down to meet the eyes of the young children. The man beamed a spirited smile at the quivering children. "It was auctioned at Sabaody; I was holding it off for my retirement home… looks like that's what ended up happening, So-So-So!"

Slowly but surely, they began opening up the man, allowing life to finally return to a forgotten island that would eventually be hailed as the home of the Warborn!

To Be Continued…

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Author's Corner.

Lunarians were considered 'Gods' by even the World Government. The premise here is that they've been trying to recreate these beings but as worthy weapons for themselves. Centuries of failure ended with the Warborn—the prototype for Vegapunk's Seraphim.

Images are available on Discord alongside other niche details: https://discord.gg/aJHHHPvb6q

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