Sabo rotated the knobs of an old microscope and winced.
"Human cells," he confirmed to his grim-faced partner.
Highly concentrated human cells...
Sabo's talents shone in adversity. Adrenaline was his friend. Challenges a treasure... Or so he thought, but even if he'd never backed away from one, this dreadful case was testing his belief. He didn't always know his limits, but he knew his teammates, and nothing he could say would uplift the piss-poor mood that had been clinging to them like a second skin.
Over the past three weeks, he'd watched, powerless, as friends transformed into roaring infernos; had looked from afar, injured form slung over Hack's shoulder, as a single inhale of red smoke had turned frightened civilians into gooey puddles. And now... Now he had to digest the irrefutable fact that faceless bodies were buried under the Living fire and Crimson sea's ever increasing slew of victims.
Koala crossed her arms as if to shield herself from the truth. "How do you go from an elixir of youth to a bio-weapon?"
"Money, ego, power..."
"You forget sadism, but that's not what I meant. I'm talking logistics. How do you go from selling over-priced beauty elixirs on a high-end resort to flooding the black market with deadly aerosols?"
Sabo shrugged. "You don't see many nobles with burns or scars, but even they have wrinkles... I guess the traffickers adapt their offer to the demand: the elixirs of youth go to the store while their other products are shipped off to the black market."
The flickering light of a lone candle stressed the line of Koala's down-turned lips. "So, what now?"
Now they found a way to get on Diamond End, aka the crescent archipelago's less accessible island, without getting killed.
"We need a sub—"
"I SAID SHUT UP!"
Sabo's eyes narrowed on the entry.
"Where are you going?" Koala asked.
"I'm just..." He knew that voice. "One second," he told her before pulling the door open.
Yup. Sabo recognized those fiery eyes; Still he was not prepared for the frenzied state of his late-night visitor.
"Puppy?"
The man's blown pupils darted around the hallway before abruptly snapping back to his.
"I was searching for my daughter but only found these dumb vials." The high-strung man pressed three brightly colored elixirs to his chest. "Then you wouldn't stop moving, so I messed up my head. And your door's rude as fuck."
"The door?" Sabo repeated with a dubious side-glance. Nope, just a door, one Koala would slam in his face if he kept it open. Sabo fisted his surprise guest's too-large jacket and pulled him in.
"Sabo? What's going on? Who's this?"
"Koala, meet the desert wolf. Puppy, this is my partner in crime, Koala."
"For real?" his best friend asked, her voice full of skepticism as she took in the wild-eyed man's disheveled state.
"That's not a Koala."
"... Just how high are you?" Sabo asked.
A blink. "Five foot seven...?"
Koala pinched the bridge of her nose, and with an exasperated huff she said, "Koala's my name."
"Oh... sorry." The desert wolf's bottom lip slid under pearl-white teeth (a gesture Sabo might have called enticing if not for the man's crazed outlook). His eyes continuously darted over the room, his fingers twitching like a performing pianist, while his body swayed drunkenly until he landed on the room's lumpy couch. He was a mess and didn't look half as threatening as he might imagine when he snapped his head up and leveled Sabo with a cute heated glare. "My name's not Puppy, it's Echo!"
Sabo didn't know what the jittery man was on, but it must be some of that 'good stuff' Malik kept stored inside his satchel.
"O-Kay. So, what did you take? Opium? Cactus juice? Did you lick a frog?"
The thunderbird zoan swore the later was in vogue on some backwater islands of the South and that it tasted as rich as the juiciest of meats. This, of course, had spiked Sabo's interest, unfortunately it had been over six months since the man flew off on a secret mission, one that seemingly extended each time Sabo inquired on his whereabouts.
His guest—Echo—grimaced and mumbled something about the door again before his eyes blinked into a parody of focus.
"I have to find Cleo!"
"Cleo?" The vague image of a snarling girl popped to mind.
*
"Yes, Cleo!... People have been disappearing, so I went to buy us dinner. I found candy apples but lost Cleo, and my useless neighbor only heard me die. Except I'm not dead, and neither is Cleo. She can't be, because she fought with the curtain rod and cracked a tooth; Not hers. I'd hoped it was that bald bastard wig-man's, but he didn't have her..."
It was maddening; The pounding in his ears, the bleariness at the periphery of his vision, the continuous inability to collect his thoughts. He cared little for acting a fool, but wished he'd at least sound coherent (which, judging by not-a-Koala's expression, he most certainly did not).
"So... someone took Cleo?" Sabo asked.
Thank fuck! "Yes!"
"And you don't know who?"
"No, but there're others! We came here for the others. To investigate."
Sabo and Koala shared a look.
"What can you tell us about these others?" Koala asked.
"They seem random. All messy but quiet." Echo pulled his hair in frustration. "They fought, but no one heard."
Koala turned to Sabo. "Devil fruit?"
"Likely... So, someone with an illusion or sound-related power takes people to Diamond End," Sabo said, "Then—"
"Another person turns them into elixirs."
Wait? Who's turning who into what?! Echo's blown pupils sailed between the pair.
"And the ones that don't sell on Golden Bay are shipped to the black market," Sabo finished.
Echo jumped to his feet only to flop back on his ass. "What?!" Tears of—fear, anger, frustration—pooled in his eyes. "What about Cleo?"
His gaze strayed toward the vials he'd carelessly handed over, queasy stomach churning at the sight. Was this a person? The thought had barely manifested that he was already doubling-over, the violent spasms seizing his empty stomach forcing bile up his throat and watery saliva to the floor. He had to find her, he had to—
Breathe.
Echo's pleading gaze reached through sweat-matted bangs to seek Sabo's dark obsidians. "I need to find her," he said. "Before..." Oh god. Adrenaline surged through his system. His skin prickled, his body too tight to contain the abrupt explosion of emotions, and in a burst of energy, Echo regained his footing and stumbled toward the exit.
"Where do you think you're going?" Sabo asked.
"To get my daughter."
"You're in no condition to—"
Echo glared at the blond. "I won't sit back while she's made into... into..." He couldn't say it, his horror too strong for words.
"Look," Sabo said with a placating gesture. "People don't just go to Diamond End. Over ninety percent of the island is covered in razor-sharp rocks, and the only access point is heavily guarded. Any unauthorized ship that sails by gets sunk by the marine." A beat of hesitation. Sabo continued, "We're planning an expedition—"
"Sabo!"
"—So how about you rest, and when we're ready you can tag along?"
"Do you hear yourself? He's in no condition to move," Koala said, pointing at where Echo stood slumped against a wall, "least of all carry on a stealth mission." Her gaze raked the length of his disheveled form. Judging. Calculating. "We don't know him."
"I told you, he's the des—"
"I don't care if he's the desert wolf or the King of Vaughn, this mission is dangerous enough without adding an intoxicated vigilante into the mix!"
"Listen, I know the situation's not ideal," Sabo said, "but this guy can cancel devil fruit powers… If there's really someone on Diamond End that can turn people into this-" Sabo shook his vials, "-he'll be useful."
"He's stoned."
"I'm not, I used too much observation haki," Echo grumbled, to which the red-head lifted a perfectly shaped brow at her partner.
"Whatever. I'm going," Echo said and resumed his snailing toward the no-longer-dancing door. His stiff fingers curled around the handle and he pulled with all his (feeble) might only for a tanned hand to slam it shut.
A red haze entered his vision, the pounding in his ears rising with every second the offending limb remained fastened to the door.
"Move," he growled, molten amber glaring at an abyss of resolve.
"If the marine catches you, it will jeopardise our mission."
"I don't give a fuck about your mission; I'm going to save my kid!" Echo fruitlessly pulled on the handle. "Fucking let go or I'll make you!" he screamed, and in a moment of blind despair, he took a swing at Sabo's face. Bone-grinding fingers clasped around his wrist, his prickly claws frozen inches from his target, and before he could instigate a new attack, Sabo slammed Echo's back into the goddamned-fucking-closed door.
"You'll make me?" Frost crept into the blond's voice. "Just like you'll make Silver guard's cannons not shoot at you, right? Or maybe you intend to swim there? That sounds like the kind of idiotic plan your fried brain would come up with. Tell me, are you a fishman?"
"I have a submarine, you jerk!" Echo retorted with an ineffective shove. "Urg!"
"Calm down—"
"You calm down you fucking piece of—"
Sabo muted Echo's colorful retort. "What do you say we backtrack a little?"
"I wish I still had a taser disk," Echo answered, words muffled by the other's palm.
"Great," Sabo said with an annoying grin. "Now see, we have a plan and man power but no safe way to reach Diamond End. You have a sub, but would get caught as soon as you set foot on the isle." Echo tried but failed to knee the arrogant asshole. "So what do you say you give us a ride and in exchange, we'll help you find Cleo?"
When Sabo took a step back, Echo's first instinct was to bare his stupidly smooth and unthreatening teeth at him. Thankfully, he managed to quail the ridiculous impulse in favor of a reluctant "fine".
"Perfect." Sabo's chipper tone melted the last layers of ice that had been clinging to his voice. "Just give us a minute to clean up."
Echo's weary gaze followed the blond's every move as he shoved an outdated microscope inside a sling bag before he reached for a pile of rumpled notes.
Forcing said notes inside his bag, Sabo glanced over and asked, "Where's your sub?" as if inquiring on the weather.
"Somewhere."
Like really, what kind of idiot did he take him for?
"This partnership's headed for a great start," Koala mumbled as she retrieved a mini snail from her fanny pack.
"We sent our partner on reconnaissance; we'll need him to guide us if we want to reach Diamond End..." Sabo said in lieu of an explanation. By the twenty second mark, his expectant look bled into exasperation. "Must you be so difficult?"
Did he? Let's see; His daughter was missing, he felt like he was covered in sea-stone, couldn't latch onto his goggles' grounding weight, was as defenseless as a soaked kitten—
"We're on the same side."
Yes, so long as their objectives aligned, but Echo was under no illusion. He knew his circumstantial allies wouldn't pick Cleo over their precious mission... Still, without them it would be a lot harder to find her…
"There's an alcove by the north-west flank, right before the rockslide... But just so you know," he continued in a testy voice, "my vessel's booby-trapped."
"Of course it is." Sabo's lips twitched, eyes sparkling with mirth as he slung an arm around Echo's waist.
Urgency allowed no room for protest, and so, Echo begrudgingly leaned into the blond's side for support.
"You good?" Sabo asked with a nod at Koala's snail.
"He's not picking up... Go, I'll catch up."