One Piece : Brotherhood

Ice Continent, New World.

The chilling winds howled like tormented spirits, slicing through the barren expanse of frostbitten wasteland. The temperature had plummeted to an ungodly level, even harsh enough to freeze one's very soul, and every step into the desolate continent felt like a battle against nature itself.

The lone figure, heavily cloaked and shivering violently, trudged forward, his breath crystallizing in the air. The deeper Gecko Moria ventured into this forsaken land, the harsher the conditions became, as if the world itself sought to expel him.

Yet Moria pressed on, driven by an unrelenting purpose that outweighed the pain gnawing at his frostbitten body. His massive frame, hunched against the gale, stumbled briefly before jerking upright, his shadow flickering unnaturally beneath him.

Suddenly, the shadow beneath him twisted and writhed, straining to tear itself free. A malicious aura emanated from it, a stubborn and otherworldly defiance that resisted Moria's control.

"Damn this thing!" Moria roared, his voice a guttural growl against the deafening storm. His hands flared with an eerie purple-black energy as he channeled the full might of his Kage Kage no Mi powers to wrest control back. Shadows swirled around his feet like living ink, clawing at the ice and snow.

The captured shadow, Oden's shadow, lashed out with a will that was unprecedented, even among the strongest spirits Moria had ever manipulated. Most shadows dissipated upon their owner's death, a final relinquishment of their bond to the mortal realm.

But this one—this shadow—clung fiercely to existence. Its resentment burned like an eternal ember, its hatred for Kaido a tempest that rivaled Moria's own.

"Stay... in your place!" Moria snarled, his eyes bulging with the effort to suppress the rebellious spirit. Veins stood out on his temples as the shadow surged, black tendrils whipping wildly in every direction. For the hundredth time since that fateful day, Moria questioned his own madness.

He had risked everything to infiltrate Wano after reducing Hachinosu, the infamous Pirate Island, to smoldering ruins in a desperate bid to fulfill his vengeance against Kaido. It was a gamble born of desperation and hatred, a vendetta fueled by his humiliating defeat at the hands of Kaido and the calamity that had befallen his crew.

However, fate was cruel. His hopes of avenging himself by witnessing Kaido's downfall were dashed when he arrived in Wano only to find a different reality: Kaido, alongside Big Mom, had triumphed over Kozuki Oden, the valiant Shogun of Wano.

The news hit like a sledgehammer, shattering what little optimism Moria had left. Oden, the man who had once driven Kaido to his knees, was defeated and condemned to a public execution.

Kaido's dominion over Wano remained unshaken, reinforced by Big Mom's monstrous presence. Moria's ambitions seemed crushed once again. But amidst his despair, a flicker of opportunity arose—an insane, reckless opportunity that only someone as unhinged as Moria would dare to seize.

Using the chaos engulfing the Flower Capital, Moria slipped into its shadows, navigating the labyrinthine alleys and war-torn ruins. The spectacle of Oden's execution, his boiling alive in a massive cauldron of oil, had drawn every eye in Wano. Even Kaido's elite forces were stationed to ensure the event unfolded without interference. Moria knew this was his chance.

He wasn't there to save Oden. He was there to steal from him.

Despite the overwhelming presence of Kaido, his Beasts Pirates, and the ever-looming risk of detection, Moria gambled on his Kage Kage no Mi. The Devil Fruit that had granted him dominion over shadows would serve as the key to his boldest heist yet. He lay in wait, his powers coiled like a viper, biding his time until the critical moment.

As Oden's life ebbed away, his body succumbing to the unimaginable agony of being boiled alive, Moria struck. With a precision born of desperation, he severed Oden's shadow from his tortured frame. The act required a level of finesse and control that nearly pushed Moria to his limit, but he succeeded. Oden's shadow was his.

Yet, what followed defied all logic.

Most shadows, when severed, lost their bond to the living world upon their owner's death. They became inert, formless, nothing more than echoes of the life they once mirrored. But Oden's shadow was different.

It resisted. It writhed with a ferocity that Moria had never encountered, a spirit unwilling to be extinguished. It burned with unfulfilled vengeance, as if it refused to accept the cruel end its owner had suffered.

Even as Moria made his escape, weaving through the shadows of the capital, the captured fragment of Oden's soul lashed out. Its fury was palpable, a storm within the confines of the shadow's ethereal form.

Kaido's forces were oblivious to the theft, their focus fixed on maintaining order during the execution, but Moria could feel the weight of what he had stolen.

This was no ordinary shadow. This was Kozuki Oden—his pride, his will, his hatred for Kaido—all condensed into an unyielding fragment of his being.

After his escape into the New World, Moria's obsession took a new form. He had not only stolen Oden's shadow—he had stolen Oden's wrath. This was no longer about survival or reclaiming his lost crew. This was about vengeance, and Oden's undying shadow was the perfect tool.

Moria's mind spiraled with grand visions. His plan grew darker and more ambitious with every passing day. If he could find the legendary corpse of Oars, the "Country Puller," and infuse it with Oden's raging shadow, he would craft the ultimate soldier. A weapon forged in hate, unyielding in its quest for vengeance against Kaido.

And so, Gecko Moria, burdened by frost and fire, traversed the farthest reaches of the New World, dragging with him a shadow that roared silently against the cold—a shadow that yearned, like Moria himself, for a reckoning.

Now, Moria stood on the frozen edge of the New World, driven by whispers and myths. If legends held any truth, the body of the "Country Puller," Oars, lay somewhere in this glacial hell.

A demon who tore islands apart and reshaped continents, Oars was the ultimate vessel. And if Moria could fuse Oden's raging shadow with Oars' indomitable corpse, he would craft an invincible soldier—a tool of vengeance that could tear Kaido apart.

"Eclipse Zone: Shadow Veil," Moria muttered, his voice hoarse from the cold. Tendrils of dark smoke seeped from him, spreading outward like roots digging into the frozen earth.

His mastery over shadows allowed him to extend his reach far beyond the limits of his observation haki. Black tendrils slithered across the ice, probing for disturbances, whispering secrets of the terrain back to their master.

Each step drained him further, his towering figure hunched against the relentless cold. Yet, his hatred burned hotter than the frost could extinguish. His lips curled into a snarl as the shadow writhed again, attempting to escape his grasp. Moria staggered, slamming his fist into the icy ground as he forced the unruly spirit to heel.

"You stubborn fool," he spat at the shadow. "Still clinging to life... still burning for revenge. You and I are not so different, Kozuki Oden."

The name sent a shiver through Moria, though not from the cold. Oden's shadow was unlike any other. Its defiance was a constant reminder of the man's unyielding spirit in life.

Moria didn't fully understand why the shadow hadn't dissipated; perhaps it was Oden's boundless will, or perhaps the hatred for Kaido acted as a tether to this world. Whatever the reason, Moria knew he had stumbled upon a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

"You'll thank me, Oden," he sneered, dragging himself forward. "Your vengeance will live on... through me."

As the black tendrils searched the frozen ground, Moria felt a faint disturbance—a pulse deep beneath the ice. His heart pounded, and a sick grin spread across his face. He had found something.

The wind howled louder, as if the land itself recoiled from the shadowy intruder. Yet, Moria's laugh rang out, deep and guttural, as he pressed forward.

"Kaido... your time is coming," he muttered, his breath forming an ominous mist in the frigid air.

"And you'll be undone... by the very souls you tried to destroy."

Suddenly, his probing shadows hit something. A vast, unmoving mass far below the ice. It was larger than anything Moria had ever sensed. His shadows recoiled slightly before snaking back with renewed focus, wrapping around the edges of the massive structure. A chill ran down his spine, and for once, it wasn't from the cold.

"Could it be...?" Moria muttered, his voice trembling, not with fear, but with anticipation.

With unrelenting determination, Moria thrust his hands downward, channeling every ounce of his Devil Fruit powers into the ice below. His fists, cloaked in a dense sheen of Armament Haki, struck the frozen ground with explosive force.

BOOM! BOOM!

Each impact sent shockwaves reverberating through the desolate wasteland, shattering layers of frost and permafrost. Around him, his shadows writhed and coiled like living tendrils of darkness. Morphing into monstrous, claw-like forms, they pierced the ice, chipping away massive chunks with every strike.

"Break! Shatter! MOVE!" Moria roared, his voice raw and defiant against the howling winds that whipped around him. His body trembled under the effort, the cold biting through even his thick cloak, but he pushed on. This was his chance—his one chance to turn the tides against Kaido.

The shadows surged deeper into the ice, spreading out like an unholy web, delving into the frozen depths. The ground cracked and groaned in protest under the pressure, massive fissures spidering out from where Moria stood.

"Come on!" he bellowed, his breath misting in the frigid air. His teeth clenched as he poured every ounce of his willpower into his strikes.

He had already dug over a hundred meters into the ice, the frozen ground giving way with agonizing slowness. Yet, as his power reached further into the icy abyss, something colossal began to take shape beneath him.

The shadows struck something solid, and Moria froze for a moment. His breath hitched as he focused, sending his shadows to probe the object. They wrapped around it, coiling like serpents, their tendrils mapping its contours. It was massive—far larger than anything he had expected.

The ice groaned louder, protesting as it began to crack apart. Slowly, the layers of frost gave way, revealing the first piece of the titan buried below.

A hand.

Moria's shadows peeled back the ice with precision, and there it was: a monstrous hand, its fingers curled into a frozen fist. The sheer size of it was staggering, even to someone like Moria, who had fought countless powerful foes.

Each finger was as thick as the mast of a warship, the skin leathery and mottled from centuries of preservation beneath the ice.

"This… this is it," Moria whispered, awe creeping into his voice despite himself. His lips curled into a grin, his sharp teeth gleaming in the dim, frosty light.

He renewed his efforts with a manic fervor. The shadows clawed and tore at the ice, their tendrils spreading wide to uncover the rest of the frozen colossus. Gradually, the hand gave way to an arm—a massive limb that could have crushed entire fleets with a single swing.

Hours passed as Moria toiled relentlessly, the icy winds screaming around him. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the ice fully surrendered its prize. The colossal figure of Oars, the legendary Country Puller, lay before him in all its monstrous glory.

The body was immense, a titan of proportions that defied belief. Oars' chest, broad and cavernous, was so vast that entire ships could have been hidden within its shadow. His ribs jutted through the leathery remnants of his flesh, giving him a skeletal, otherworldly appearance.

Scars from battles long past marked his massive frame, each one a testament to the life of a creature that had once torn islands apart and built his own kingdom with sheer brute strength.

Despite being buried for centuries, the ice had preserved Oars' corpse remarkably well. His face, though partially obscured by frost, retained an expression of feral dominance.

Jagged teeth, sharp as daggers, lined his enormous mouth, and his empty eye sockets seemed to stare into eternity. His hair, now frozen into jagged spikes of ice, framed a visage that was both terrifying and majestic.

The legends hadn't done him justice. This was no mere giant—this was a monster of myth, a creature that had shaped history with his hands and his hunger for conquest.

Moria staggered back, his legs trembling beneath him, not from the cold but from the sheer magnitude of what lay before him. His heart pounded, each beat echoing in his ears like a drum of victory.

Moria stumbled back a step, gazing at the massive figure before him. His chest heaved with exertion, his breath fogging the frigid air.

"Magnificent," he whispered, his voice a mix of awe and triumph. "You're even more glorious than I imagined."

*****

Wano, New World

In the crumbling shrine near the graveyard in Kuri, a storm of emotions raged. Once a quiet sanctuary, it now bore witness to a tempest of grief and guilt among Oden's retainers.

"Crash!"

A wooden pillar splintered as the massive form of Nekomamushi was hurled into it, shattering the already fragile structure. Dust filled the air, mixing with the faint scent of incense that still lingered from offerings made long ago.

"Why?! Why are you still alive when you couldn't even save Oden-sama?!" Inuarashi roared, his voice raw with anguish. His teeth bared and claws extended, the dog mink lunged again, his movements fueled by rage and overwhelming guilt.

The Cat Viper, Nekomamushi, did nothing to defend himself. He stood there, battered and bruised, taking every blow with grim acceptance. His golden eyes burned with unshed tears, but he didn't raise a hand. Deep down, he believed he deserved every strike.

"Stop it, Inuarashi!" Asura Doji's gruff voice cut through the chaos. The burly samurai grabbed the dog mink mid-charge, straining against his furious strength. "This isn't the way!"

But Inuarashi's fury couldn't be contained. "We swore to protect him! To stand by him, no matter what! And where were you…?" He gestured wildly toward Nekomamushi, his claws shaking.

"You were here, in Wano! You were supposed to be his shield! And yet, Kaido… Kaido took his life! How could you fail him like this?!"

Nekomamushi's ears flattened against his head, his voice a low, broken growl. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't feel it every second of every day?"

The room fell silent for a moment, save for the ragged breathing of the combatants. Denjiro stepped forward, his face etched with sorrow but his posture steady, like a man carrying a mountain of grief on his back.

"Inuarashi, that's enough," Denjiro said, his voice steady but firm. "Do you think Oden-sama's death is any less painful for them than it is for us?!"

The words hung in the air like a blade.

Denjiro's gaze swept over the battered and weary retainers gathered in the shrine. Asura Doji, his once-gargantuan presence now seemed diminished under the weight of loss, his usual bravado replaced by a haunted look in his eyes.

Kawamatsu stood silent, gripping his katana so tightly his knuckles turned white, his lips pressed into a thin line. The memories of Oden's kindness played in their minds like a cruel taunt.

For a moment, Denjiro's eyes flickered to the small, sleeping figure of Hiyori, curled up in the corner on a makeshift bed of old blankets. Her peaceful face was a cruel contrast to the storm raging among her guardians.

Inuarashi's breathing slowed, his anger simmering down, though his chest still heaved with unresolved emotions. He shot one last glare at Nekomamushi.

"Every time I look at you… it makes me want to tear you apart. But… you're right. Even I wouldn't have stood a chance against Kaido, but that doesn't make you any less guilty." His voice cracked, and he turned away, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

The weight of the admission hung heavy in the air. Nekomamushi wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, but his eyes remained on the ground. He knew that their bond, once so strong, had been fractured—perhaps irreparably.

Denjiro, who had managed to maintain a semblance of calm, knelt before the group. He bowed deeply, his forehead touching the dusty floor of the dilapidated shrine. "We all failed Oden-sama. Every one of us. But wallowing in that failure will do nothing to honor his legacy. We have a duty… to wait for Toki-sama, to prepare while we wait. To ensure the Kozuki name rises again."

His voice cracked slightly, but he continued. "Our first priority is to protect Hiyori-sama. The longer we stay in Wano, the greater the danger. Kaido hasn't stopped hunting Oden's supporters. If they discover we're alive, Kaido himself will come. And if we fail her too…" He didn't finish the sentence. The implication was clear.

The retainers exchanged glances, each one grappling with their pain in their own way. Kawamatsu finally spoke, his voice quiet but steady. "Denjiro is right. Hiyori-sama is our hope, just as Momonosuke-sama is. If we can keep her safe, then we haven't completely failed Oden-sama."

Asura Doji exhaled sharply, his eyes flicking toward Hiyori. "I'll follow whatever plan you have, Denjiro. But let's make it quick. The longer we linger, the closer Kaido's dogs get."

Inuarashi gave a reluctant nod. His anger hadn't fully subsided, but the guilt in his heart outweighed his rage. "For Hiyori-sama… for Oden-sama. I'll do what needs to be done."

Nekomamushi, still battered and silent, simply nodded. He understood that their shared grief wouldn't mend overnight, but for now, their purpose united them.

Denjiro rose, his gaze lingering on Hiyori for a moment before sweeping across his comrades. "Then it's decided. We'll secure her safety, no matter what it takes. Oden-sama's dream will live on—through her, through Momonosuke-sama, and through us."

The retainers bowed their heads in solemn agreement, their shared grief knitting them together in fragile unity. Though the bonds between them had been strained, the legacy of Kozuki Oden demanded their loyalty, their strength, and their unwavering resolve.

The shrine, though broken and battered, stood as a silent witness to their renewed vow—a promise that, no matter the cost, they would see Oden's dream through to the end.

The room fell into a tense silence as Denjiro's words sank in, the weight of his plan pressing on the remaining retainers like a heavy shroud. Kawamatsu was the first to speak, his voice weak but resolute.

"So… what do you propose? That we all leave Wano?" His words were hesitant, but the glint in his eyes betrayed the struggle within him. He knew what Denjiro was suggesting might be the only way forward, no matter how much it hurt.

Denjiro met Kawamatsu's gaze, his expression calm but unyielding. "No. Not everyone. We cannot abandon Wano completely. The Kozuki name needs its roots here to remain alive. But we also need to scatter, to ensure that our enemies can never wipe us out entirely."

Denjiro turned to Asura Doji, whose formidable presence had dimmed with grief but still held the fire of a warrior.

"Doji," Denjiro began, his tone firm and deliberate, "I need you to return to the life you once lived. Become the Bandit King again. Take control of the Yakuza and anyone still loyal to Oden-sama. Unite them under your banner, but do so in secret. Build strength, but bend the knee to Kaido if necessary."

Doji's eyes widened, his fists clenching at the suggestion. "You want me to kneel? To that beast?" he growled, his pride flaring.

"Yes," Denjiro said sharply, his voice cutting through the tension. "Endure it. Endure their scorn, their accusations, even your own shame if you must. If people call you a traitor, let them. For Oden-sama's sake, you must bear it all.

With your past and your connections, you're the best suited for this role. I wouldn't ask it if I didn't believe you were strong enough to carry it."

Doji's jaw tightened, but he nodded slowly. "If it's for Oden-sama… I'll do it. But don't expect me to like it."

Denjiro's gaze softened slightly before he turned to Kawamatsu.

"Kawamatsu, I want you to stay in Wano as well. Work with Doji to gather resources. We'll need food, weapons, and allies when the time comes to strike back at Kaido. Doji will be under heavy scrutiny once he bows to Kaido, so it will be up to you to act as our hub of communication. Keep the embers of Oden's dream alive while we wait."

Kawamatsu's grip tightened around his trident, and he nodded, though the pain in his eyes was clear. "I'll do whatever it takes to honor Oden-sama's legacy."

Denjiro's gaze shifted to the two minks, Nekomamushi and Inuarashi, who still sat apart, the tension between them palpable.

"And you two," he said, his voice steady but carrying an edge of authority, "you need to return to Zou. The connection between the minks and the Kozuki clan is deeper than blood, and we'll need that bond in the future. Prepare Zou for war. Train the minks. If Kaido forms an alliance with someone like Big Mom, we'll need their strength to counter it."

Inuarashi growled, his ears flattening. "You think we can just leave Wano after what happened to Oden-sama? After—"

Denjiro's sharp gaze silenced him. "Do you think Oden-sama would want us to squander our lives in fruitless vengeance? The minks are loyal to the Kozuki clan. Rally them. Make them stronger than ever. When the time comes, we'll need Zou's strength to reclaim Wano."

Nekomamushi, still crumpled by the broken pillar, finally raised his battered face. "We'll do it," he said hoarsely, his voice heavy with pain. "For Oden-sama."

Inuarashi hesitated for a moment, then gave a slow, reluctant nod.

Asura Doji, who had been listening intently, finally spoke again. "And you? Will you take care of Hiyori-sama alone? It's too dangerous, even for you, Denjiro. The seas out there aren't kind, and Kaido's reach extends far beyond Wano."

Denjiro straightened, his eyes hard with determination. "It's safer this way. Kaido is scouring Wano for Oden-sama's supporters. If I stay here, Hiyori-sama will never be safe. But I won't be alone."

A flicker of something almost hopeful passed through his expression.

"There's someone out there who will honor Oden-sama's name," Denjiro continued. "Someone who will help, if not for me, then for his sake. I've spent years observing the world beyond Wano. I know where to go, and I know there are those who revere Oden-sama as much as we do. I'll find them. I'll make them allies."

Doji frowned. "And you're sure this 'someone' will help?"

Denjiro gave a small, wry smile. "Oden-sama left a mark on the world, one that cannot be erased. I believe there are still those who carry that mark in their hearts. I'll stake my life on it. Even if I have to sell my soul, I will keep Hiyori-sama safe."

The retainers fell silent, their gazes lingering on the sleeping form of Hiyori. The child was the last remnant of the Kozuki legacy in Wano, the beacon of hope for a future free from Kaido's tyranny.

Finally, Asura Doji spoke, his voice heavy with resolve. "Then it's settled. We'll follow your plan, Denjiro. For Oden-sama."

The others nodded, their faces set with grim determination. Though their paths would diverge, they were united in purpose—to see Oden's dream fulfilled, no matter the cost.

Denjiro looked around at his comrades, his brothers-in-arms, and felt the weight of their trust settle on his shoulders. He bowed deeply, his voice steady as he spoke the words that bound them all.

"For Oden-sama… for the Kozuki clan… we endure."

And with that, the retainers of Oden dispersed, each carrying a piece of their shattered lord's dream, vowing to see it reborn in the flames of rebellion.