Chapter Text
It seemed like a normal stopover. Another nameless island with a sleepy port, where the Sunny could rest and the crew could stock up on provisions, stretch their legs, and maybe even snag a hot meal that wasn’t cooked on a rocking deck.
Even though they loved the sea, the Straw Hats always felt a small thrill when their boots touched earth again. The chatter of a marketplace, the scent of spices, the warmth of a fire that didn’t come from a galley stove — these things grounded them, reminded them of simpler times.
But Sanji froze the moment his polished shoe soles met the uneven cobbles of the shore. His Haki shuddered like a struck chord, rippling through his chest.
Something was wrong.
The air smelled of smoke before he saw it, sharp and acrid, threading beneath the salty breeze. Around the bend, the town that should’ve been alive with laughter and bartering was chaos incarnate.
Buildings smoldered, windows shattered. Cobblestones were cracked and gouged, as if the street itself had been torn open by claws. Civilians screamed and scattered like fish before a predator, their voices tangled with the violent clash of steel and the guttural roars of men drunk on power.
And then… the shadows moved.
Not the natural sway of lampposts or the stretch of twilight. These shadows writhed, surged, and struck, lashing at the panicked townsfolk like serpents. They had edges sharper than blades, and when they cut, they left wounds that smoked as if burned from the inside out.
At the heart of it all stood the enemy.
A pirate crew, infamous enough to scar whispers into Sanji’s instincts, though their flag wasn’t one he recognized. Their captain towered above his men, a broad figure draped in a coat stitched from tattered black cloth that seemed to drink in the light. His hair was slick and silver, eyes pale and hungry - and at his back, shadows pooled like a living ocean, slithering up his arms as if eager to obey.
The Devil Fruit user.
“Corvus D. Mourn,” Robin murmured, her gaze sharp. “Bounty: two hundred and eighty million. Known as the Gravehand.”
Mourn raised one long-fingered hand, and a dozen shadows peeled off the ground, forming into beasts with fangs and claws made of darkness itself. They prowled across the battlefield with a predator’s patience, tearing at anyone unlucky enough to stumble into their reach.
His crew matched him in viciousness if not power. Broad-shouldered men with jagged scars wielded curved blades that dripped with poison, while wiry assassins flitted between alleys, striking from behind the cover of shadow beasts. Each wore armor stripped from their victims, trophies hammered into cruel adornments.
The town had become a hunting ground. And the hunters were very much in control.
Sanji’s fists curled at his sides. The pit in his stomach deepened as his Haki flared again — every scream, every sob in the smoke-drenched streets pressed into his nerves like needles. He could hear children crying for parents, the thunder of collapsing stone, the sharp snap of steel cutting into flesh.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, smoke curling from the corner of his lips. “This isn’t a fight. It’s a slaughter.”
Luffy had already moved a step forward, his eyes unusually grim. “They’re hurting people.” His voice left no room for hesitation. “We can’t leave it like this.”
The crew tightened around him, instinct pulling them into formation.
Nami drew her staff, scanning the roiling shadows for patterns, searching for openings. Robin’s arms bloomed in a slow ripple, ready to grasp or break on command. Usopp already had a dial-fitted shot loaded, his eyes darting nervously but sharp with focus.
“They’re organized,” Robin said evenly, her gaze fixed on the black tide. “Too organized for a random raid. They’ve done this before.”
“And they’ll keep doing it if we don’t put ‘em down,” Zoro added, hand already resting on a sword hilt.
Franky’s voice growled low, mechanical joints humming as he flexed his arms into their weaponized form. “Guess it’s showtime.”
Sanji exhaled smoke through his nose, the faint tremor of fury rattling his chest. “I’ll clear the streets. Get the people out.” His gaze slid to the captain, Corvus D. Mourn, whose shadows moved like hunting dogs across the battlefield. Sanji’s lip curled. “But that bastard…he’s mine.”
Mourn’s pale eyes locked on them as if hearing the promise. A slow grin spread across his scarred face, teeth sharp as bone. He raised his arm, and the shadows surged like a black wave, beasts forming from the cracks in the cobblestones, claws dragging across stone.
His voice carried above the chaos, low and ragged.
“Straw Hat Luffy. What a gift the sea brings me. I’ll hang your flag in chains.”
Luffy’s fists tightened, his grin cold.
“Try it.”
The shadows lunged.
Sanji’s legs blurred as he moved, fire licking at his heels with each strike. Shadows shattered under his kicks, bursting into ash and smoke, but more kept pouring in. The beasts were endless, their claws raking cobblestone, their snarls echoing through the burning street.
He wasn’t close enough.
Through the haze of smoke and dust, he could see him – Corvus D. Mourn, the Gravehand, standing at the heart of the storm. The pirate captain moved lazily, almost bored, his long coat dragging shadows behind him like a second skin. Every flick of his wrist unleashed another wave of darkness, another lash that tore the town apart.
Sanji’s chest heaved, lungs burning from both the smoke and the pace. He wasn’t closing the distance fast enough. Every step, every leap over broken stone, the bastard stayed just out of reach.
“Tch… dammit.” His jaw tightened. His body screamed at him to push harder, but the shadows were clever – they cut him off, swarmed his path, coiled into walls of writhing black to slow him down.
And then...
He felt it. That sharp twist in his gut. That sudden spike in his Haki, a flare of warning so strong it nearly staggered him.
His eyes snapped to the side.
Zoro.
The swordsman had cut his way too close, his blades carving a path directly toward the captain. The shadows coiled eagerly, like serpents waiting to strike. Mourn’s pale eyes locked onto him, a cruel grin curving his mouth.
Sanji didn’t think. His body moved before his brain caught up.
“ZORO!”
He dashed, leg igniting with violent flame, pushing himself faster than he thought possible. The shadows shifted, lashing forward, their edges sharper than any blade.
Sanji shoved himself into the path.
The impact hit like ice and fire all at once. The shadows pierced into him, sinking through his side, jagged edges raking across his nerves. A searing pain tore through his chest, like something clawing from the inside out.
The world blurred, his breath caught in his throat.
But he stayed standing.
Because if he hadn’t, it would’ve been Zoro.
Smoke curled from his lips as he staggered, one hand clutching his side. His eyes met the swordsman’s for the briefest second, and though no words left his mouth, the message was clear: I wasn’t letting it be you.
And then the shadows twisted deeper, and Sanji’s world went white with pain.
“Cook!” Zoro’s voice, sharp and too close.
Sanji gritted his teeth, forcing himself upright, one hand pressed against his side. “Focus, mosshead! Don’t get sloppy.”
Zoro glared at him, but the enemy surged again, and the swordsman had no choice but to turn back to the fight.
Sanji exhaled through his teeth, ignoring the tremor in his hands. He was fine. He had to be fine.
The fight dragged the town into hell. Smoke curled from broken beams, and firelight painted the sky a sickly orange. Shadows writhed across every wall, stretching claws and jaws where no light should’ve reached.
But the Straw Hats didn’t yield.
Luffy’s fists thundered through beast after beast, each strike shattering the darkness into nothing but dust. His roar carried above the chaos, a beacon that dragged civilians back from despair.
Nami’s lightning split the sky, lancing through shadow-born creatures and scattering them like smoke. Thunder rolled so loud it rattled the cobblestones beneath their feet.
Robin’s limbs erupted from every surface, restraining enemies before bones cracked clean under her grip. Usopp’s shots flew true, flames and explosives lighting the alleys like fireworks of war. Brook’s blade sang a chilling tune, cutting through the shrieks of the shadow pack.
And Zoro.
Zoro carved a path straight through the battlefield, his swords howling in arcs of green fire. Each swing split the tide, shadows hissing and evaporating as steel cut their forms apart. He moved like a man possessed, unflinching even when darkness coiled around his limbs, hacking through it until nothing remained.
It should have been victory.
But Mourn didn’t fight like the others.
The captain’s body seemed more shadow than flesh, the writhing tide pouring from his veins as if the Devil Fruit itself had eaten him alive. Every step he took dragged the battlefield into deeper night. Every gesture unleashed another storm of living blades.
“Pathetic,” he hissed, voice a rasp like cracking stone. “Light can’t pierce the grave.”
Sanji, chest heaving, blood already staining his shirt where the shadows had cut deep, forced himself forward again. His legs burned, every strike searing into beasts that tried to hold him back. He wasn’t going to let the bastard keep standing.
“Watch me,” he spat, voice raw, smoke curling from the cigarette clinging to his lips. “I’ll burn your grave to ash.”
He launched, Diable Jambe blazing, heel crashing down in a flare of orange fire.
The kick collided with Zoro’s blades in the same instant, a coordinated strike that tore through the captain’s defences. Fire and steel together split the tide, blasting apart the writhing mass clinging to Mourn’s frame.
The Gravehand roared, shadows flaring in one last surge—
And Luffy was there.
His fist, swollen massive with Gear Three, slammed straight through the captain’s chest. The shockwave rattled the smoldering ruins. The shadows shrieked as if alive, shattering and burning away under the force of the blow.
Corvus D. Mourn crumbled with them, his body falling to dust, his last grin sharp and knowing, as though death itself hadn’t claimed him.
The battlefield went still.
The shadow beasts dissolved, evaporating into smoke that drifted harmlessly into the night air. What remained of his crew dropped their weapons in terror, scattering into the alleys like rats fleeing flame.
The Straw Hats stood at the center of the wreckage, bloodied but unbroken, the cries of civilians turning from fear into relief.
The crew regrouped.
“Everyone okay?” Nami asked, scanning them.
“Nothing I can’t handle!” Luffy grinned, mouth already full of stolen bread from a wrecked shop nearby.
Usopp was bruised, Chopper scuffed but intact, Robin brushing dust from her gloves. Zoro sheathed his blades with a huff.
And Sanji lit a cigarette, hands only slightly shaking. “Never better.”
But when the smoke filled his lungs, it didn’t ease the ache. It lodged there, heavy. As if he wasn’t allowed to feel relieve just yet.