One Piece : Brotherhood

"ODIN'S MIGHT!" Loki bellowed, pouring every ounce of his strength into his colossal blade. Dark armament haki coated the weapon, turning its steel a shimmering black as he brought it down in a titanic arc. The strike thundered towards the figure with a force that could split a mountain.

But the intruder didn't flinch. Instead, he casually raised a single forearm, coating it with his own haki, a dense, glistening black that seemed to absorb the light around it.

"BOOM!" The impact rocked the ground, a shockwave radiating outwards and carving a massive ravine into the snow-laden earth as the residue of Loki's strike tore through the air.

Snow and ice flew in every direction, and a mist of vaporized snow hung in the air, testament to the sheer power behind the blow. But there the figure stood, unmoved, holding off the blade's edge with nothing but his arm.

"You dare trespass on Elbaf?" roared one of the other giants, a hulking warrior who until now had been frozen in shock. With a battle cry that shook the earth, he launched himself forward, a massive double-edged axe gleaming in his grasp.

The figure's demeanor shifted instantly; the ominous aura around him burst forth like a devouring black hole, engulfing everything in a suffocating darkness.

With a flick of his wrist, the intruder swatted the giant's battleaxe aside as if it were a mere twig. In an instant, he closed the distance between himself and the massive warrior, leaping upward to seize the giant by his helmet.

Despite being a fraction of the giant's size, the stranger moved with such overwhelming force that he shoved the warrior back, forcing the giant off balance.

And then came a display of raw, unimaginable strength. The intruder's fingers tightened around the giant's helmet, and with a savage roar, he drove the giant's head downward, slamming it into the frozen earth.

The ground shook as if from an earthquake. The sheer force of the impact sent cracks spiderwebbing through the snow-packed ground, creating a massive crater that spanned hundreds of meters.

Snow and dirt erupted into the air, while the impact dented the giant's helmet, deforming it and crushing his jaw beneath. The only thing that saved the giant's skull was his armor, now twisted and mangled from the blow.

"Aaaah!" Loki's voice rang out, both enraged and horrified, as he watched one of his finest warriors overpowered like a rag doll. Blood speckled the pristine snow, the stark crimson painting a scene of brutality.

Loki's fury boiled over as he clenched his fist, silver lightning crackling around him, his Conqueror's Haki erupting with a force that was almost palpable. The air around him twisted, warping as the intangible, raw willpower surged forward, materializing into the ethereal form of an ancient titan.

Silver lightning crackled as the colossal figure charged forward, its form wreathed in Loki's wrath and ancestral strength.

But the figure only chuckled, his eyes gleaming with an almost amused glint. "No wonder the World Government is so desperate to bring you giants to heel," he said, his voice a mixture of mockery and cold admiration. With a smirk, he dropped the unconscious giant warrior to the ground and turned his gaze to meet Loki's.

In that instant, his own Conqueror's Haki erupted—an overwhelming, pitch-black aura filled with primal power. Black lightning crackled and coiled around him, tearing through the air with a weight that felt almost physical, as if reality itself were bending to his will.

The clash of haki was an ungodly spectacle: Loki's towering titan, forged from his silver lightning and the might of his bloodline, barreled toward the figure, only for the intruder's black lightning to tear through it with ease. The intangible titan dissipated into a flicker of light, utterly overpowered by the stranger's haki.

The giants around Loki gasped, the force of the stranger's Conqueror's Haki bearing down on them like a physical weight, driving them to their knees.

Some of them struggled, teeth gritted, but the pressure was overwhelming. Even Loki felt his knees buckle, his massive frame faltering under the oppressiveness of that dark, suffocating presence.

"Who… are you?" Loki managed, his voice strained as he fought against the relentless force pressing down on him.

The stranger smirked, tilting his head slightly, as if amused by the question. Then, with an almost casual flick of his wrist, he directed a pulse of his Conqueror's Haki towards Loki, a concentrated blast that struck the prince like a physical blow.

Loki was thrown back with monstrous force, his immense body crashing into the base of the Adam Tree, his impact so powerful that the trunk splintered with a resounding crack. The ancient tree shuddered, creaking as if in pain, before a small section of its trunk snapped, collapsing into the snow with a sound that echoed across the Underworld.

Loki lay there, his body embedded in the bark of the sacred tree, breathing heavily as he gazed at the man before him with a mixture of rage and awe. This intruder was unlike anything he'd ever faced—this was no mere mortal, no pirate or warlord.

This was a force of nature, a storm clothed in human flesh, and every fiber of Loki's being screamed that he was in the presence of something far beyond himself.

The figure took a slow, ominous step forward, his gaze fixed on Loki with a cold, merciless intensity. He raised his hand, as if beckoning Loki to rise once more. The giants around them, already trembling from the sheer force of his haki, watched in terrified silence, knowing that the fate of their prince, and perhaps Elbaf itself, hung on the outcome of this battle.

The giants who had accompanied Loki were no mere soldiers—they were warriors tempered in the fires of countless battles, each a veteran whose will had been forged in blood. Yet even they, mighty as they were, could barely stand beneath the crushing pressure of the intruder's presence.

They gritted their teeth, their fierce eyes locked on this dark figure who exuded an aura of boundless strength and disdain, a force that seemed almost beyond mortal comprehension. But true to their heritage, the giants did not falter; the greater the enemy, the deeper their bloodlust stirred. Giants were not born to yield. They were born to rage, to fight, and to die gloriously.

"VALHALLA!" one of the giants roared, gripping his spear as he struggled to rise against the overwhelming force that weighed him down. Summoning his last reserves of strength, he leaned on the spear for support. But before he could fully stand, the cloaked figure moved—a blur in the snowstorm.

He seized the giant's own battleaxe from the frozen ground, and with one fluid motion, swung it in a powerful arc. The giant's head was severed cleanly from his shoulders, his body crumpling back into the snow as blood spattered across the white expanse, staining it red.

"NO!" Loki bellowed, his voice hoarse with fury as he watched one of his finest comrades fall. His eyes burned with a fiery, vengeful resolve, and he braced himself, every fiber of his being screaming to destroy this intruder. But then, the stranger's voice cut through the snowstorm like the crack of thunder, freezing him in place.

"Are you truly worthy of calling yourselves giants?" the figure sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Are any of you worthy enough to be welcomed into the halls of Valhalla?" He raised the bloodstained axe and, with effortless strength, drove it into the trunk of the Adam Tree, embedding it inches from Loki's face. The prince stared at the weapon, the blade still slick with his comrade's blood, his mind racing as he processed the words.

The stranger's words continued, each one laced with venom. "I came here expecting a race of warriors—giants whose very name once made the world tremble. A race that could reshape continents with its might, that lived and thrived in the art of war. But all I find here is a nation hiding in a safe haven, shrinking from the strength that once defined it." He spat into the snow, his disdain as chilling as the cold itself.

The giants, trembling with rage, felt the sting of his words as deeply as the loss of their fallen comrade. But as they tried to rise, to fight, they found themselves paralyzed under the crushing weight of the intruder's haki.

The pressure was unbearable, a dark ocean of force pressing them down, pinning even their colossal frames to the ground. Only Loki managed to resist it—just barely—his knees shaking as he struggled to remain upright, yet he too was forced to kneel, his pride wounded beyond measure. He stared up at the figure, trying to reconcile the feeling of utter helplessness with the warrior's pride that had defined him his entire life.

The stranger's gaze turned to Loki, and the intensity in his eyes was like looking into a void. "And you…" he began, his voice a deep, mocking rumble. "The so-called 'greatest giant in a thousand years,' a prince whose name echoes across Elbaf, whose very birth was hailed as a miracle.

When I heard the legends, I expected someone who could stand on par with the giants of old—someone who might even surpass Oars the Continent Puller. But what do I find here? A naive little prince who doesn't even know the true worth of his bloodline, content to play lord over a kingdom of spineless giants."

Each word drove deeper, piercing Loki's heart as he struggled to maintain his composure. What was this man saying? Loki, who had dedicated his life to mastering the strength of his ancestors, who had wielded weapons from the time he could walk, who had carried the pride of his people—how could he, of all giants, lack the essence of what it meant to be one? What did this man mean by his "true bloodline" and the power he seemed to think Loki didn't understand?

The figure took a step forward, and with each step, the weight of his presence grew heavier, like the looming shadow of death itself. Loki's body felt like stone, his muscles locked under the relentless force, his mind clouded with doubt he'd never known before.

For the first time, he doubted his own strength, his own understanding of what it meant to be a giant. All his life, he had believed that he knew his heritage, that he carried the pride of his ancestors within him—but now, as he looked up at this stranger, he felt as though he was being exposed as an imposter.

"What… are you talking about?" Loki managed to grit out, his voice thick with frustration and anger. "What would a trespasser know of my people?"

The intruder chuckled darkly, an unsettling sound that echoed in the empty, snow-swept silence. "What would I know? I know the giants who once walked these lands could summon storms with a mere swing of their fists. I know of giants who could hold entire mountains upon their shoulders, who clashed with gods and devils without fear." His voice dropped, and he leaned closer, his eyes gleaming with a sinister glint.

"But most of all, I know of the true potential buried within you, a power you've ignored, Prince Loki, because you've been coddled in this kingdom, praised by weaklings who fear your strength rather than challenge it."

Loki's chest heaved, anger bubbling beneath the surface. How dare this man accuse him—him, the prince of giants—of lacking strength, of being unworthy? He gritted his teeth, but the doubt gnawed at him, insidious and unshakable. What was this man hinting at? And why did his words stir something deep within him, something Loki could barely understand?

"Tell me," the figure sneered, his voice low and cold, "do you even know the true history of your people? Do you know what it means to be a giant—not a prince, not a soldier, but a true giant?"

Loki's mouth opened, but no answer came. He realized, to his own horror, that he didn't know how to answer.

Loki staggered to his feet, every instinct screaming for him to stay down, but the fire in his veins pushed him forward, defiant even in the face of death itself.

The figure's mouth twisted into a cruel smile beneath his hood, his eyes gleaming with cold amusement. What Loki saw there wasn't anger but something worse—an amused indifference, as if the prince's struggle was nothing more than a passing curiosity.

"You want to know who I am?" the figure sneered, his voice as deep and cold as the snowstorm raging around them.

"I am someone destined to rule this world, someone who will reshape it in my image. Remember today, Loki—the only reason you're alive isn't because of your strength, but because of my mercy. And as long as you live on borrowed mercy, you'll never know what it means to be a true giant."

The words hit Loki like a hammer, cutting deeper than any weapon ever could. This man—this intruder—had come to the heart of Elbaf, faced him down, and now spoke of "mercy" as if he were sparing the life of an insect. A roar of fury burned up through Loki's chest as he gripped his blade, refusing to let his people's honor be trampled underfoot.

The figure turned his back, already moving toward the shore, dismissing Loki and the remaining giants without a second glance. But Loki wasn't about to let the man who'd slaughtered one of his own walk away so easily. Summoning every ounce of will he had left, he surged forward, ignoring the blinding pain and the warning bells in his mind.

"You're not leaving here!" he roared, brandishing his massive sword in one last, desperate strike.

In a heartbeat, the figure disappeared, only to reappear directly in front of him, as if he had stepped through the shadows themselves. Loki barely had time to react before a fist, cloaked in an overwhelming aura of dark energy, smashed into his midsection.

The blow wasn't just powerful—it was devastating, shattering his ribs and crushing the air from his lungs. The world went white with pain as he was sent hurtling backward, his massive frame crumpling into the snow-laden ground like a ragdoll.

Snow sprayed into the air as he landed, his body embedded deep in the frozen earth, the mighty prince of Elbaf brought low.

Through the haze of pain, Loki heard the man's voice, now a mere whisper carried by the howling wind. "I'll be waiting for you on the seas, Loki. I hope someday you'll understand what it truly means to be a giant of the Old."

With that, the figure vanished, swallowed by the blizzard as if he were no more than a phantom. Loki tried to rise, his mind whirling with rage, confusion, and a feeling he had never known before: helplessness. What had he meant? The giants of old… Had Loki been blind to the true meaning of his lineage, of what it was to be a giant?

Around him, his warriors struggled to their feet, bloodied and battered, looking to him for guidance. For the first time in his life, Loki had no answers to give them.

*****

Wanokuni, New World

In the heart of the Flower Capital, where laughter once filled the air and vibrant colors painted the plaza, an eerie, unbearable silence now lingered. The once-bustling square, where children would chase paper cranes and merchants proudly displayed their wares, now lay blanketed by a somber dread, a collective grief that seemed to steal the life from the very ground.

The joyous stalls of the annual festival were left abandoned, the bright lanterns and banners shredded, trampled, and extinguished by Kaido's iron rule. Only the cold, ruthless colors of Kaido's forces and the heavy shadows of despair seemed to reign over the city square.

Citizens of Wano gathered in the plaza, their faces drawn with desperation, helplessness, and horror. Many wept openly; others clung to loved ones or reached out, arms trembling, as if beseeching the heavens to intervene.

They were forced by Kaido's edict to witness a sight no loyal heart of Wano could bear: their beloved shogun, Kozuki Oden, brought forth like a broken shell of the man he once was.

Once a mighty warrior, a protector who had been their beacon, Oden was now mutilated almost beyond recognition. His once-powerful frame, that had so often led and inspired, was ravaged by the cruelest torture. Kaido had inflicted horrors on him for hours, leaving him hanging between life and death. Both his arms had been severed, and one of his legs was cut off at the knee.

Oden's proud, piercing eyes had been gouged, leaving hollow, bleeding wounds. The skin across his chest and back was a canvas of lash marks and deep, raw cuts. But even as his life ebbed, there was an indomitable fire within him.

He remained defiant, his head barely held high, though his face was gaunt and bloody, teeth clenched through the agony, as though daring Kaido to do worse.

"Do we behead him now, Kaido-sama?" King stepped forward, his voice cold, awaiting orders as the time for execution drew near. Kaido, however, let his gaze linger, taking in the pitiful yet infuriating sight of Oden's silent resistance. This was no simple execution. It was meant to break the very spirit of Wano, to shatter any hope the people had left.

Beside him on the raised viewing platform, Linlin — Big Mom herself — watched with narrowed eyes, her lips pressed into a tight line. She understood Kaido's hatred for Oden; she felt her own sting of bitterness from past battles against the shogun she could never fully conquer.

Oden's resilience was infuriating. She shook her head, her gaze drifting to Kaido. "Just get this over with, Kaido. I have a new target in mind — Zunesha."

From the crowd, broken cries rose up as parents and elders begged for mercy, their hands raised, voices trembling as they pleaded with the monstrous overlord towering above.

"Please… spare our shogun!" an elderly man shouted, but his plea was met with the cold laughter of Beast Pirates, who surrounded the crowd with their weapons drawn, daring anyone to try something foolish.

Some among the samurai held their hands clenched at their sides, silent rage simmering beneath the surface. Their weapons lay hidden, their faces steeled with defiance, even as they knew the price of disobedience was death.

The Beast Pirates were quick to react to any sign of rebellion, dragging off anyone who dared voice dissent and executing them on the spot, their bodies discarded unceremoniously in the snow. Still, the defiance burned in the eyes of Wano's samurai, flickering like embers in the face of a storm.

Kaido's massive form loomed above the square, his gaze sweeping over the gathered crowd, each tear-streaked face and defiant glare feeding his pride.

He savored this display — Wano on its knees, their hope shattered, their shogun at his mercy. To him, the suffering of these people was a testament to his power, a mark of his dominance.

In a booming voice that shook the plaza, Kaido addressed the crowd. "Worororo….! Witness this, Wano! This is the fate of anyone foolish enough to stand against me. Kozuki Oden, your so-called 'hero' — look at him now! Broken! Humbled!" He laughed, the sound deep and menacing, echoing like thunder across the plaza.

And yet, even in that sea of despair, there were whispers. Small murmurs among the citizens, furtive glances passed from samurai to samurai, an unspoken promise. Wano had not yet surrendered completely.

Though their spirits were crushed and their loved ones butchered, they knew this suffering would not last forever. The hearts of the people of Wano held an indomitable hope that could not be extinguished, not even by the combined might of Kaido and Big Mom.

For as long as a single citizen of Wano remembered Oden's sacrifice, there would be a spark of rebellion, waiting, quietly, for the right moment to ignite.

Kaido's face twisted into a dark, sadistic sneer as he surveyed the crowd. Even in their despair, he could sense the stubborn defiance that remained in the people of Wano. It was a spirit he was determined to crush.

"Stop!" he bellowed, halting King's sword mid-swing. The entire plaza froze, a sharp intake of breath rippling through the crowd. Hope flickered briefly, but Kaido's next words extinguished it like a snuffed-out flame.

"Boil him… Boil him alive," Kaido commanded, his voice dripping with malice. "I want all of Wano to hear his screams. I want the world to know that Kozuki Oden died begging for his life, whimpering like a coward until his last breath."

A cold shiver passed through the crowd as the color drained from every face. They had braved Kaido's rule, clinging to the hope that Oden's final moments would honor his strength and courage. Now, that hope was shattered. Mothers covered their children's eyes, elders sank to their knees, and whispers of horror spread like wildfire.

Even King, Kaido's loyal right-hand man, flinched at the order. For an instant, a flicker of doubt crossed his eyes as he registered the cruelty of the command. But he steadied himself, suppressing any hesitation. His loyalty was absolute; Kaido's word was law.

Kaido's booming laughter filled the air, thick with cruel delight. He took perverse pleasure in the sight of the crowd—an entire nation buckling under the weight of his command, fear and despair written across every face. For Kaido, this was the ultimate conquest: not just the breaking of a man, but the crushing of an entire people's spirit.

Beside Kaido, Big Mom's eyes gleamed with sinister amusement. "Mamahaha! A fitting end for the great shogun of Wano," she cackled, her sick pleasure evident as she watched Oden, who had once been an equal force against her, humiliated and reduced to a shadow of himself.

The entire square fell silent, and then — as if guided by a single will — every person in the crowd fell to their knees. Young and old, warriors and peasants, all bowed, their bodies trembling with grief and desperation. Though they knew it was futile, they pleaded with Kaido, their voices merging into one aching plea.

"Please… spare him! Let him die a warrior's death! Don't do this…" they begged, voices breaking, some wailing openly. It was a raw, unanimous cry, the spirit of Wano laid bare. Even if they could not save Oden, they wanted him to be granted a death that allowed him dignity — something, anything to honor the man who had given them so much.

But Kaido was unmoved. If anything, the sight of an entire nation prostrating before him only deepened his vanity. The shogun who had once defied him, who had once fought valiantly for Wano, would now die screaming like any other broken man. And in Kaido's eyes, it was the ultimate triumph.

****

In a narrow, dark alleyway at the edge of the capital, Denjiro, one of Oden's most loyal retainers, wrestled with the heart-wrenching duty of protecting a secret even more precious than vengeance.

He clutched little Hiyori to his chest, the child silent but wide-eyed, as though even at her young age, she sensed the terrible fate awaiting her father. Beside him, Inuarashi — the fierce Mink warrior — struggled violently, his maw biting into Denjiro's shoulder, his claws raking against him as he fought to break free.

"Let me go!" Inuarashi's snarl was filled with rage and helplessness. "I swear I'll kill you if you stop me, Denjiro! I have to save him — I can't watch this happen!"

Denjiro, barely able to contain his own fury and anguish, held Inuarashi back with all the strength he could muster. His shoulder bled from Inuarashi's sharp teeth, but he tightened his grip, refusing to let him go. He knew that Inuarashi's anger was a mirror of his own, but he couldn't let it cloud his judgment.

"I want to save him too, you fool!" Denjiro hissed through clenched teeth, tears glistening in his own eyes as he tightened his hold.

"But it's too late! If you go now, you'll only die too — and leave the rest of them vulnerable! We must stay alive... for her." He glanced down at Hiyori, his face softening as he held her closer.

Inuarashi stopped struggling, his eyes blazing with agony, but Denjiro's words cut through his rage. The Mink's shoulders sagged, and he dropped to his knees, his head bowed. He knew Denjiro was right, but that knowledge did nothing to lessen the bitter fury boiling within him.

Only a few hours before, Denjiro and Inuarashi had launched a desperate, covert attempt to free the prisoners in Wano, igniting the blaze that had torn through the holding cells. The fire was their doing, a last-ditch attempt to free their shogun, but even as flames consumed the prison, they had only managed to save a handful.

Among them was Toki, Oden's wife, who had placed her trust and final hope on a prophecy she'd carried from a time that none of them could fully understand.

Toki had entrusted Hiyori to Denjiro's care and, in an act that defied understanding, had used her powers to send her son, Momonosuke, and several retainers into the future.

The retainers had watched in silent shock as Toki's ancient powers transported her son and his protectors into another time. Now, they bore not only their grief for their lord but also the weight of his children's future. This, Denjiro knew, was why he could not let himself be swayed by hatred.

One day, he vowed, he would see Kaido fall. He would see Big Mom pay for her sins against Wano. He would hunt down every traitor who had betrayed Oden-sama's trust and watched him suffer. But today was not that day. His hatred had to wait, his vengeance had to burn slowly, hidden from Kaido's prying eyes, until the time was right.

Denjiro's gaze shifted back to the square, his jaw clenched so hard it ached, as he saw the broken form of his lord. He knew Oden could not hear them from this distance, but still, he muttered a silent promise, his voice choked with unspoken tears.

"Oden-sama… forgive us. We couldn't save you, but we will honor you. We'll live to fight another day — and one day, we'll bring justice to Wano."

Inuarashi, still shaking with suppressed grief, echoed the vow, his voice hoarse. "We'll be the vengeance you deserve, Oden-sama. We'll watch over your children… and we'll make them proud of their father's legacy."

As Kaido's soldiers prepared the boiling cauldron for Oden's final, agonizing moments, the two retainers turned away, clutching Hiyori close. They would not forget this day; they would carry the sight of their beloved shogun's suffering within them, a reminder of why they had to be patient, why they had to live.

And as they disappeared into the shadows, they each held a single, undying resolve: for as long as they drew breath, Wano's spirit would endure — and someday, vengeance would be theirs.

*****

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