One piece :I open the locks of the heart

Koby gazed in awe at the gleaming scimitar that had materialized in his hand, the metal glinting faintly under the dim light of the dungeon. He tested its weight, twirling the blade between his fingers with an ease that seemed almost innate. Then, without a word, he began to move.

The blade danced around him, humming with each movement. Koby moved with unexpected grace, his feet gliding across the ground as the scimitar traced perfect arcs in the air. Every flick of his wrist gave the impression that the weapon had a life of its own—fluid yet deadly. The precision of his movements betrayed absolute focus, a remarkable transformation for the boy who, just days ago, had struggled to stand up to one of Alvida's underlings.

I couldn't help but smile as I watched him. "Koby, you're almost unrecognizable," I murmured to myself.

He didn't seem to hear me. His eyes shone with a newfound determination—pure resolve mixed with wonder and confidence. For the first time, he looked entirely sure of himself, as if the blade had awakened something deep within him.

When he finally stopped, the blade held firmly in his grasp, his breath was heavy, but his expression was radiant. He glanced at the weapon, then at me, with a hesitant but proud smile.

"Koby, let's have a quick spar," I suggested with a grin, raising my Keyblade and casting a quick healing spell on him. "I want to see how you handle that new blade."

He nodded, a flicker of challenge in his eyes. "Alright, Jordan."

He took his stance, his feet firmly planted on the ground, his scimitar held with determination. The tension in the air was palpable—not fear, but excitement. Koby was ready to show what he had learned, ready to prove he was no longer a mere novice.

I approached him with a straightforward vertical strike, testing his reflexes. Koby reacted with agility I hadn't expected. He sidestepped smoothly, letting my Keyblade crash into the ground, and seized the opening to attempt a vicious counterattack. His blade sliced through the air, targeting a specific point on my side, and I only managed to avoid the hit thanks to my superior physical attributes. Even so, the scimitar's edge whistled dangerously close.

I stepped back slightly, reassessing my opponent with newfound respect. Koby had changed. He was no longer the hesitant, clumsy boy. Every movement he made was calculated, precise, like a snake ready to strike.

He didn't give me time to reflect further. Koby lunged forward, his feet pounding the ground with palpable determination. Our blades clashed in a rapid exchange, each strike followed by a feint from him. He was constantly probing for an opening, a moment to deliver a debilitating blow. Several times, I had to retreat abruptly to avoid his attacks, the scimitar drawing vicious arcs aimed at my weak points. His style wasn't that of a novice—it was ruthless, methodical, designed to disarm, cripple, or kill.

I furrowed my brow, realizing that Koby wasn't even conscious of his own style's nature. He fought with pure intensity, his instincts driving his actions more than his conscious thought.

I let the fight continue for a little longer, observing his behavior and choices, before deciding to intervene. During an exchange, I used my superior strength to disarm him. My Keyblade locked his scimitar, and with a fluid motion, I swept him off his feet. Koby gasped, out of breath, but his eyes still shone with a strange intensity.

Lowering my Keyblade, I gave him a serious look and extended a hand to help him up. "Koby, you're impressive, but there's something you need to understand."

He took my hand, struggling to his feet, and nodded, sensing the weight in my voice. "Yes, master?" he said, his tone respectful yet anxious.

Crossing my arms, I fixed him with a piercing gaze. "Your combat style… it's not meant for friendly sparring. Every move you make, every strike you deliver, is designed to disable or kill your opponent. It's effective but dangerous. I can't let you spar with our friends—whether it's Luffy, Nami, or anyone else—without my supervision."

Koby stepped back slightly, lowering his gaze to the scimitar in his hand with a troubled expression. He seemed almost terrified by the weapon he held, as though realizing for the first time what it truly signified.

"Don't reject your weapon, Koby," I said firmly, meeting his uncertain eyes. "Power comes in many forms, but only the hands that wield it determine the nature of the acts that follow. Yes, your combat style is dangerous now, but you'll use it against the right people—the ones who deserve what you'll deliver."

He straightened at my words, his confidence seemingly returning. "You're right, Jordan. I might've preferred something similar to Luffy's abilities, but I won't complain. You've given me the opportunity to grow." He sheathed his blade with a determined nod.

"Good. Let's go find Luffy and Nami so you can eat and rest. We'll figure out what to do next," I said, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. I summoned two Shadows, disguising us both as the marine soldiers I'd eliminated earlier.

As we walked through the streets of the town, Koby at my side, we were stopped by an unusual commotion. A dense crowd had gathered around a restaurant, whispering and watching something with palpable tension.

Pushing forward to get a better look, I quickly identified the source of the disturbance. Sitting at a central table, Luffy—still disguised as Garp thanks to the Shadow I'd assigned him—was devouring his meal with boundless enthusiasm, completely oblivious to the nervous stares around him. Nami, seated at another table, ate calmly, a slightly amused expression on her face as she observed the scene. But it wasn't them that caught my attention.

My gaze landed on a woman, the restaurant owner, who was silently preparing dishes with a face marked by anxiety. Behind her, hidden in the shadows, a marine soldier held a young girl at gunpoint. The child, presumably her daughter, stood frozen, trembling with fear. The soldier, visibly nervous, kept an eye on both Luffy—whom he believed to be Garp—and the woman, likely ensuring she didn't speak out.

A chill of rage surged through me, but I kept my composure. "Koby, look at this," I said in a low, firm voice, discreetly pointing out the scene to my apprentice. "This is your moment. Your first real test."

Koby followed my gesture, his eyes widening as he saw the soldier and the little girl. That strange spark I'd noticed in him before returned—a cold, focused determination.

"I want you to neutralize that soldier. Do whatever it takes, but the little girl must remain unharmed. Once you've taken care of him, bring her to Nami and ensure she's safe. Then, just observe what happens. Tell Luffy that 'Sora is coming.' He'll understand."

Koby nodded, his features hardening. "Understood, master." He secured his scimitar and slipped quietly into the crowd, disappearing almost seamlessly. His grace and agility were already impressive.

Meanwhile, I retreated into a nearby alley, slipping Sora's necklace around my neck. My appearance shifted instantly, adopting the familiar silhouette of the young Keyblade wielder. As the transformation completed, a cold resolve settled over me.

This town was in desperate need of a thorough cleansing.

I emerged from the shadows and observed the scene from a distance. Koby had approached the marine soldier with precision and stealth that far exceeded my expectations. In one fluid motion, he disarmed the soldier, grabbing his pistol with one hand and immobilizing him with the other. The action was so swift and silent that even those nearby didn't notice anything until the soldier collapsed to the ground, neutralized.

Koby then gently picked up the little girl and whispered to her softly to reassure her. She clung to him, tears in her eyes, as he carried her over to Nami, who welcomed them with a warm smile. Koby whispered a few words to her, and Nami looked around until she spotted me, giving a subtle smile before speaking to Luffy.

Morgan's Office

Colonel Morgan, an imposing mountain of a man with a metal axe grafted in place of his left hand, paced his office with visible agitation. His uniform, slightly disheveled, reflected his nerves. Across from him stood his son, Helmeppo—a skinny, arrogant young man whose face displayed a mix of insolence and fear—and his second-in-command, Eisah, a man of average build with angular features and piercing eyes. Eisah's immaculate attire and calculating gaze revealed his professionalism and efficiency.

"What the hell is Garp doing here?!" Morgan bellowed, slamming his desk violently with his uninjured hand.

Eisah spoke in a calm, measured tone, trying to contain his superior's fury. "No need to worry, sir. I've ordered our men to keep the crowd away from the Vice-Admiral. Additionally, one of our soldiers is keeping the innkeeper and her daughter under control to ensure they don't say anything during his meal. I've also brought your son here to ensure he doesn't do anything… reckless in Garp's presence."

Helmeppo opened his mouth to protest, but a single cold glare from his father silenced him immediately.

Morgan let out a frustrated sigh, though his shoulders remained tense. He ran a finger along the blade of his axe—a nervous habit he displayed when deep in thought. "Good work, Eisah. I knew I could count on your professionalism," he said, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace.

Eisah nodded, crossing his arms. "That said, we must remain vigilant. You've heard the rumors about Goa and Lamini, haven't you? This so-called Sora has become a symbol. Two islands have been transformed into what some are calling 'paradises' after his arrival. At Lamini, the black market was destroyed, and the governor disappeared. As for Goa, the nobility either fled or turned into those… things."

Morgan growled, his face growing even more severe. "You think Garp is here because of that?"

Eisah replied cautiously. "It's possible. If Sora shows up here, he'll be your greatest threat, Colonel. But… on the other hand, perhaps Garp could handle it. That would save us from having to deal with the situation ourselves. In the meantime, it's critical to ensure that nothing arouses the Vice-Admiral's suspicions."

Morgan nodded, albeit reluctantly. "Fine. Let's make sure everything is under control."

Suddenly, three loud knocks echoed through the office. Boom. Boom. Boom.

"Enter!" Morgan barked, straightening up.

A panicked soldier burst into the room, his breathing ragged and his face pale. "Colonel Morgan, the individual you ordered to be monitored is here. Dark D. Sora… he's here! And Vice-Admiral Garp… he vanished into a burst of darkness!"

Morgan froze for a moment, then erupted in fury. "Useless incompetent!" he roared, raising his axe. Before anyone could intervene, he brought the weapon down on the soldier, killing him instantly.

Morgan immediately began gathering his jewelry and belongings in a frantic rush, his face twisted with fear. "What are you idiots waiting for? If we stay here, we're as good as dead! As dead as Garp if he's in the clutches of that damn Sora. We're getting out of here, now!" he bellowed, shoving Helmeppo aside as he stormed out of the office.

Eisah, remaining calm despite the chaos, observed the scene with a calculating gaze, clearly weighing whether to follow his superior or devise a last-minute plan of his own.

(Author's Note: I'll leave this chapter here to create a better transition for the next one. To put it simply, Koby has acquired a new combat style and will continue to develop it. I'll ensure that no development for any of the Straw Hats will be neglected.)