Chapter 29: Thriller Bark
Year 1516 - Thriller Bark, The Florian Triangle
Zombies swarmed the Hakusetsu's deck by the dozens.
Not the slow, shambling kind from horror stories—these moved with purpose, coordination, and in many cases, genuine combat skill. Some wielded swords with techniques that suggested their original bodies had been skilled fighters. Others used Devil Fruit powers stolen from their former lives.
"THEY JUST KEEP COMING!" Marcus shouted, his Armament Haki-coated fists smashing through zombie after zombie. But for every one destroyed, two more appeared from Thriller Bark's massive hull.
"We can't fight forever!" Yuki's blade flashed, precise cuts dismembering zombies with surgical precision. "We're already exhausted from fleeing Akainu!"
From Thriller Bark's castle, Gecko Moria's laugh echoed: "Kishishishi! That's the idea! Wear you down, take your shadows, add you to my zombie army! The famous Wandering Marines will make EXCELLENT additions to my collection!"
"His power—the Kage Kage no Mi—lets him steal and manipulate shadows," Robin explained between using her Hana Hana no Mi to snap zombie limbs. "Anyone who loses their shadow dies if exposed to sunlight. He's collected hundreds, maybe thousands of shadows over the years."
"That's horrifying," Kiara said, using her limited Observation Haki to predict zombie attacks. "How do we fight someone who can just take our shadows?"
"You don't," Lucci said from where he'd been fighting alongside the crew—surprisingly helpful given his prisoner status. "Moria is a Warlord. Even diminished from his prime, he's beyond most of your capabilities. Your only options are retreat or negotiation."
"We can't retreat," Isra said, freezing a zombie with a technique she'd learned from watching Aiko. "The fog is too thick to navigate, and Moria controls this entire region. We'd be lost within minutes."
"Then negotiation it is," Robin decided. She raised her voice, using her Devil Fruit to create a massive mouth high above the battlefield: "GECKO MORIA! WE REQUEST PARLEY!"
The zombie assault paused. Moria's presence appeared on Thriller Bark's deck—massive, shadowy, his distinctive silhouette unmistakable even through the fog.
"Parley? Kishishishi! How civilized! And what could you POSSIBLY offer me that would make me not turn you all into zombies?"
"Information," Robin called back. "About the World Government. About their plans. About why they're so desperate to eliminate us."
Moria was silent for a long moment. Then: "Come to my castle. Just your leaders. The rest stay on your ship—my zombies will ensure they don't wander. But if this 'information' isn't worth my time..." His shadow stretched menacingly, "then I'll take your shadows AND your lives."
"Acceptable," Robin agreed before anyone could object. She looked at Isra. "You're acting commander now. Come with me. Sadi too—Revolutionary connections might help. Everyone else, hold position."
"You're trusting a Warlord?" Franky asked.
"I'm trusting that Moria hates the World Government more than he hates us. There's a difference."
Thriller Bark - Moria's Castle
The throne room was gothic horror made manifest—shadows writhed in corners, zombie servants stood at attention, and Gecko Moria lounged on his throne like a demon king surveying his domain.
"Welcome, Wandering Marines," he said, his voice carrying amusement. "I must admit, I'm curious. What information could be worth your shadows?"
"Before we begin," Robin said carefully, "I need to understand something. You're a Warlord—legally obligated to cooperate with the World Government. Why would you even consider helping us?"
"Legally obligated?" Moria's laugh was bitter. "Is that what they told you? Let me explain what being a Warlord ACTUALLY means."
His expression darkened, shadows lengthening.
"Twenty-three years ago, I had a crew. Real people I cared about, not zombies. We challenged Kaido in Wano Country, believing we could defeat a Yonko and claim his territory." His fists clenched. "We lost. Kaido slaughtered my entire crew. Everyone I trusted, everyone I fought beside—dead. And the World Government? They offered me a Warlord position as 'compensation.' A legal immunity in exchange for occasional service."
"You accepted," Isra observed.
"I accepted because the alternative was execution for piracy. But don't mistake acceptance for loyalty. I serve the World Government the bare minimum required. And I've spent two decades building a zombie army specifically because I refuse to care about living people who can die." Moria's eyes fixed on them. "So yes, I'll listen to your information. Because anything that hurts the World Government is fine by me."
Robin pulled out her notes—transcriptions from the Poneglyphs, intelligence about Im, evidence of the Void Century's truth.
"The World Government isn't just corrupt," she began. "It's built on genocide. Eight hundred years ago, they destroyed an entire civilization—the Great Kingdom of D—and erased it from history. Everything they claim as divine right was stolen through mass murder."
She explained everything. The Void Century. The Ancient Weapons' true purpose. Im's existence. The systematic suppression of truth. As she spoke, Moria's expression shifted from amused interest to genuine shock.
"An immortal ruler? Eight centuries of conspiracy? Ancient weapons that were actually infrastructure?" He processed this. "And you can prove this?"
"We have Poneglyph transcriptions. Historical records the World Government can't erase. And we're gathering more evidence with each island we visit."
"That's... that's insane. And it explains so much." Moria stood, pacing. "Why they're so aggressive about hunting you. Why they sent Akainu specifically. You're not just rebels—you're existential threats to their legitimacy."
"Exactly. Which is why they captured our leader." Isra's voice was tight with controlled emotion. "Danzo Aiko is being transported to Marineford for public execution. They want to make an example of him."
"And you want my help rescuing him," Moria concluded. "That's why you're really here. The 'information' is payment for my assistance."
"Yes," Robin admitted. "But it's more than that. If the World Government can execute someone like Aiko—someone who's exposed their crimes—then anyone who threatens them becomes a target. Including Warlords who don't show sufficient loyalty."
"You're saying they'd come after me eventually."
"I'm saying Im-sama has ruled for eight centuries by eliminating threats before they become dangerous. Aiko became dangerous by exposing truth. You're dangerous because you're powerful and barely controllable. How long before they decide you're not worth the trouble?"
Moria was silent, his massive form still. Then: "Clever. Appeal to my paranoia and self-interest rather than my better nature. I appreciate honesty." He turned to face them fully. "But here's the reality—even if I wanted to help, assaulting Marineford is suicide. It's the Marines' headquarters. Three Admirals. Dozens of Vice Admirals. Hundreds of ships. Even with my zombie army, we'd be overwhelmed."
"Not if we have other allies," Sadi said. "The Revolutionary Army. Sympathetic Marines. People Aiko has helped over the months."
"And you think that's enough?" Moria's skepticism was evident.
"No," Isra admitted. "Frankly, it's probably not enough. But we're doing it anyway. Because that's what crew means. That's what Aiko would do for any of us."
"Suicidal loyalty," Moria observed. "I remember that. It's how my crew died."
"Then help us survive where they didn't," Robin pressed. "Your zombie army, your power over shadows, your knowledge of the Grand Line—all of that could make the difference between suicide and success."
"And what's in it for me? Besides the vague threat that the World Government might eventually target me?"
"Two things. First, success means humiliating the World Government publicly. Proving their 'ultimate fortress' isn't unassailable. That's worth something to someone who hates them."
"True."
"Second, we'll share everything we learn from the Poneglyphs. All the secrets, all the truth, everything the World Government is hiding. Knowledge is power, and you'll have knowledge they've spent eight centuries trying to suppress."
Moria considered this for a long moment, his shadow stretching and contracting as he thought.
"I want one more thing," he said finally. "If we succeed—IF—I want you to help me challenge Kaido again. Not now, but eventually. With your growing power, your allies, your willingness to fight impossible odds... maybe, just maybe, we could actually hurt the bastard who killed my crew."
"Deal," Isra said immediately. "Help us save Aiko, and we'll help you get revenge on Kaido."
"Then we have an alliance." Moria extended his massive hand. "The Wandering Marines and the Shadow Master against the World Government. This is either brilliant or the stupidest thing I've ever agreed to."
"Probably both," Robin said, shaking his hand.
Three Days Later - Planning Session
The war room aboard the Hakusetsu was crowded. Moria had boarded with several of his strongest zombies and his lieutenants—Absalom, Perona, and Hogback. Combined with Aiko's crew and the Revolutionary agents, there was barely room to move.
"Current intelligence," Sadi reported, her Revolutionary contacts having provided updates, "says Akainu is three days from reaching Marineford. Fleet Admiral Sengoku has authorized a public tribunal and execution—they're planning to broadcast it worldwide using Video Den Den Mushi."
"When?" Isra asked.
"One week from today. They want time to prepare, to make it a spectacle. Maximum propaganda value."
"That's our window," Moria said, studying maps of Marineford. "We attack during the execution itself. Maximum chaos, divided attention, their forces positioned for show rather than combat readiness."
"That's insane," Perona protested. She was young—maybe sixteen—with pink hair and a gothic lolita aesthetic. Her Horo Horo no Mi—the Hollow-Hollow Fruit—let her create ghosts that induced depression. "Even with surprise, we're talking about assaulting Marine Headquarters!"
"Which is why we need more allies," Franky said. "I've been thinking—Tom's other connections in the shipwright world. People who owe him favors. I could call in those debts."
"The Revolutionary Army can commit forces," Sadi added. "Not our full strength—Dragon won't risk everything on one operation—but enough to make an impact. Probably two hundred trained soldiers."
"I have contacts among pirates," Moria said. "Not friends, but people who'd enjoy watching the Marines scramble. Might convince a few crews to participate for the chaos alone."
"What about inside intelligence?" Robin asked. "Do we have anyone at Marineford who could provide information? Weakness in defenses, schedule details, anything?"
Silence.
Then Lucci spoke from where he'd been observing quietly: "I have contacts. Former CP0 colleagues who might be willing to provide information. Not to help you, but because they resent being ordered around by those who've never faced real combat."
Everyone turned to stare at him.
"You'd betray CP0?" Isra asked carefully.
"I'd trade information for my freedom and a chance to question everything I've believed for thirty years," Lucci corrected. "Call it enlightened self-interest rather than betrayal. Besides..." He almost smiled. "Watching Akainu's perfect execution get disrupted would be satisfying. He's always been insufferably self-righteous."
"Can we trust him?" Yuki asked.
"No," Robin said bluntly. "But we can use him. Lucci, you get one chance. If you betray us, if this is a trap, you die. Understood?"
"Perfectly. Now, shall I explain Marineford's security systems, or would you prefer to assault blind?"
Marineford - Aiko's Cell
Aiko woke to find himself in a cell that made Impel Down look comfortable.
Seastone chains on his wrists, ankles, and neck. The walls were reinforced with layers of steel and stone. Guards rotated every two hours, never the same ones, preventing him from building rapport. The cell was kept cold deliberately—not freezing, but uncomfortable enough to prevent rest.
Psychological torture disguised as security protocol.
"Awake, I see," a voice said.
Vice Admiral Onigumo appeared outside the cell, his expression one of cold satisfaction.
"The great Snow Admiral, reduced to a chained prisoner. There's poetry in that." He pulled up a chair, settling in like he planned to stay. "You've caused considerable trouble, Commodore. Escaped from us repeatedly. Made the Marines look incompetent. And all for what? Idealistic nonsense about justice?"
"It's not nonsense if people believe in it," Aiko replied, his voice hoarse.
"People believe in many things. Doesn't make them true." Onigumo leaned forward. "You're going to be executed in one week. Public broadcast, worldwide audience. Your death will send a message: defying the World Government is futile. But before that happens, Fleet Admiral Sengoku wants to give you a chance."
"A chance for what?"
"Redemption. Confess your crimes publicly. Admit your rebellion was misguided. Renounce your principles and return to the Marines as a loyal soldier." Onigumo's smile was thin. "Do that, and your sentence might be reduced to life imprisonment instead of execution. Your crew might receive amnesty."
"And all I have to do is betray everything I believe in? Tell the world that standing against corruption was wrong?" Aiko met his eyes. "No. I'd rather die with principles than live without them."
"I expected that answer. Disappointing, but expected." Onigumo stood. "Then you'll die. And everyone you've inspired will watch you fall. That's the fate of idealists, Commodore. They burn bright and extinguish quickly."
After he left, Aiko sat in his cell, chains weighing heavy, and thought about his crew. About Robin, Isra, everyone who'd followed him into impossible situations. About the people he'd saved, the truth he'd tried to expose, the difference he'd attempted to make.
Had it been worth it? Knowing it would end here?
Yes.
Because even if he died, even if the World Government executed him publicly, the truth he'd helped reveal couldn't be unlearned. The questions he'd made people ask couldn't be unasked.
Some lights, once lit, continue burning even after their source is extinguished.
He just hoped his crew would survive to carry that light forward.
And had no idea they were planning the most audacious rescue attempt in history.
END OF CHAPTER 29
Next Chapter: "One Week to Execute - The Alliance Gathers"