One Piece: Rise of Valoria

After Hancock had quietly returned to the slave quarters, leaving William alone in the shadows of Mariejois, the night grew colder, but William's resolve only intensified. He wasn't done training, not by a long shot. The air around him was thick with the tension of what he had just tapped into—the raw power of his Mythical Zoan Dragon Fruit. He had kept it hidden for so long, pretending it was an ordinary Lizard Zoan, but every night, when the world was asleep, William explored its full potential.

Tonight, however, was different.

The strain of pushing his body to its limits was evident, but there was a new energy coursing through him, something he hadn't felt before. He focused on the fire burning inside him, an elemental force that was his to command. He raised his hand, fingers flexing as flames erupted from his palm, licking at the air. The orange glow reflected in his bright green eyes, casting a menacing light across his face. His control over fire was growing stronger with each passing day, but it was only one part of what his dragon fruit could offer.

Without a second thought, William clenched his fist, snuffing out the flames as he took a deep breath. Shifting his focus, he let the cold creep up his spine. His breath came out in frosty clouds as the temperature around him plummeted. Ice began to form around his feet, creeping outward like a frozen web. He extended his hand, and with a swift motion, a jagged spear of ice shot forth from his palm, shattering against the far wall with a piercing crack.

William stared at the shards of ice scattered across the ground. Fire and ice. Two opposing elements, both at his command. But deep down, he knew there was more. The dragon fruit he had consumed was no ordinary Zoan—it was mythical, ancient, and its true power had yet to be fully unleashed.

He had to find out what else it could do.

His body felt the strain of constant training, but he couldn't stop now. He closed his eyes, focusing on the energy within him. He could feel the power pulsing, not just through his muscles but through something deeper—something connected to the very fabric of the world itself. It wasn't just fire or ice, it was... something else. Something strange.

William's brow furrowed as he concentrated, trying to grasp the elusive energy he could feel but couldn't quite understand. The air around him seemed to shimmer, almost like it was bending. His hand moved instinctively, tracing a shape in the air, and suddenly, with a soft hum, the space before him warped. It was small—barely the size of a coin—but it was there, a tiny pocket of distorted space, hovering in front of him like a tear in reality.

William's heart raced. He had heard of powers like this before—Demon Fruits that could manipulate space, like the Gate Gate Fruit. But this wasn't exactly the same. No gate opened to another place; instead, it was as though he had opened a tiny void, a pocket dimension.

Tentatively, he picked up a small rock from the ground and placed it into the swirling space. The rock disappeared into the distortion, vanishing as if it had never existed. William's eyes widened in awe. After a moment, he reached out and pulled his hand back, retrieving the rock effortlessly. It reappeared in his palm, exactly as it had been.

A smile crept across William's face. This was new. This was powerful.

His thoughts raced as he considered the implications. If he could master this power—this ability to manipulate space—he could open larger portals, maybe even large enough to escape Mariejois. The thought of it sent a surge of hope through him. For years, he had been trapped here, a slave to the whims of the Celestial Dragons. But now... now he had a chance. He just needed time. 

He stared at the small pocket of space he had created, focusing all his energy on expanding it. But no matter how hard he tried, it remained the size of a coin. His brow furrowed in frustration. He could only store small objects for now—rocks, twigs, maybe a few other items—but it wasn't enough. He couldn't fit his body through it, let alone open a gate large enough to walk through. 

"Not yet," William muttered to himself, his voice barely a whisper. 

The cold night air bit at his skin, but he barely noticed. He was too focused, too determined. There had to be a way to expand this power, to unlock its true potential. He clenched his fist, his knuckles turning white from the intensity of his grip.

If he could master the dragon fruit's abilities, he could become unstoppable. Fire, ice, and now space manipulation—he was sure there were even more powers hidden within. If he could use this power to its fullest extent, then one day, he could walk out of this prison of chains and blood. He could finally be free. But for now, he was still confined to this wretched place, with nothing but his growing strength and a flicker of hope.

For the first time in a long while, William allowed himself to dream of freedom. He had been born into a world that only valued power. For the Celestial Dragons, slaves were disposable tools—bodies to break for their entertainment. He had watched countless fighters crumble under the pressure, but he refused to be one of them.

William knew the others feared him, even Hancock and her sisters, despite their growing bond. They saw the brutality in his eyes, the coldness in his heart. But they didn't understand. To survive in this world, to survive in Mariejois, caring for others was a weakness. Still, when he looked at Hancock, when he saw the fire growing in her eyes, the strength she was building for herself and her sisters, he couldn't help but see a glimpse of Robin in her. 

He shook the thought from his mind. Now was not the time to let sentimentality creep in. His focus had to remain sharp.

The small pocket of space in front of him flickered and disappeared. He sighed, exhausted but satisfied. It was a small step, but it was progress. If he could figure out how to control this space manipulation, he could hide things, store weapons, and one day, use it to leave this cursed place.

Turning his back on the empty arena, William made his way back to the slave quarters. As he approached the cell, he caught a glimpse of Hancock sitting up, watching him with those piercing eyes. She said nothing, and neither did he. But for the first time, William felt something stir within him—something like hope.

He lay down on his bed, his mind still racing with thoughts of what he had discovered. Space. Fire. Ice. The power of the dragon was more than just physical strength; it was elemental, ancient, and boundless. 

He closed his eyes, his heart pounding with a new sense of purpose. One day, he would master it all. One day, he would be free.

And when that day came, the world would tremble.