Seven years had passed since the tragic fall of Ohara. Seven years since the moment that had changed William's life forever. He was no longer the boy who had drifted helplessly on the sea, powerless to save anyone. No, at 14 years old, William had become something far more dangerous. His once bright green eyes had darkened with the weight of bloodshed, and his towering frame, now standing at nearly 1.9 meters, exuded power that matched his years of torment.
Across from him sat Boa Hancock, now 16, her beauty as striking as her strength. Her younger sisters, Sandersonia and Marigold, sat nearby. They had all come far from the terrified children they once were when they had been sold into this living nightmare. The same iron walls that had once imprisoned their hope now confined their rage and determination.
Tonight, they sat together in the cold, dimly lit slave quarters beneath Mary Geoise, where the nobles never bothered to tread. It was a rare quiet moment, the sounds of the cruel city above muffled by layers of stone. William leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his dragon-like eyes glowing faintly in the dark.
"Do you remember," Hancock started quietly, her voice holding the weight of years of torment, "the day they gave us these marks?"
She reached up to her back, her fingers tracing the hated symbol that had been burned into her skin—the Hoof of the Celestial Dragon. It was the same mark that William, Hancock, and her sisters all bore. The moment they received it was one of the most painful memories of their captivity, a day that marked the end of their freedom and the beginning of their enslavement.
Sandersonia and Marigold winced as Hancock brought it up, the bitter memories too sharp to be forgotten. Marigold, always the quieter of the three sisters, looked down, her voice trembling. "I thought... I thought the pain would never end that day."
"It hasn't," Sandersonia added bitterly, her jaw clenched. "Not really."
William's eyes narrowed at the mention of the mark. He still remembered the searing pain as the branding iron had pressed into his skin, the smell of burning flesh, and the laughter of the Celestial Dragon who had watched with sick amusement. His hand clenched into a fist. The scar on his back itched, as if it could feel his rage.
Hancock sighed, her gaze shifting to William. "I can't imagine what it was like for you, William... being here even longer. And to have lost so much more." Her voice softened, the empathy in her eyes undeniable.
William looked away, jaw tight, his emotions swirling beneath the surface. He had opened up to them before, told them of Ohara and the horror that had shaped him, but still, there were things even they could not understand.
"I was branded with more than just that damn mark," William said in a low voice, his eyes dark and intense. "I was branded with the memory of Ohara. Of all those people I couldn't save."
The sisters fell silent. They had come to know William well over the years, but even they struggled to grasp the depth of the hatred he harbored for the world's elite. The Celestial Dragons had taken everything from him, just as they had from the sisters. But there was something more to William's fury—a hunger for vengeance that had only grown stronger with time.
He looked up, his voice colder than the night air. "One day... One day, I swear it, I'll get rid of these marks. And I'll make them pay for everything they've done."
The sisters listened, their hearts heavy. William had made that vow before, but this time, there was something different in his voice. It was as if he was certain of it now, like it wasn't just a distant dream, but an inevitable truth.
Hancock, watching him closely, hesitated before speaking. "You're talking about revenge, aren't you?"
William's gaze shifted toward her, his eyes unwavering. "Revenge? No. Not just that. I'm talking about justice. And not just for me—for all of us."
Hancock's lips pressed into a thin line. She had seen the brutal world they lived in, but even she knew the cost of rebellion. "You can't take on the Celestial Dragons, William," she said softly. "No one can."
A bitter smile tugged at the corner of William's mouth. "Maybe not yet. But I'm not done getting stronger."
The room fell into a tense silence, the weight of their shared pain hanging heavy in the air. For years, they had clung to survival, scraping by under the watchful eye of their sadistic master, **Master Callen**. The thought of escape, of freedom, seemed like a distant fantasy—a light at the end of a tunnel too long to see.
But that night, something changed.
Just as William was about to respond, his senses sharpened. His Observation Haki flared up, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. There was something off, something distant but clear—a ripple of chaos somewhere within Mary Geoise.
"Something's happening," William muttered, his eyes darting toward the ceiling as if he could see through the layers of stone and iron.
Hancock frowned. "What do you mean?"
William didn't answer at first. He closed his eyes, focusing on the faint disturbances his Haki had picked up. Fires. Screams. Panic. Someone had infiltrated Mary Geoise, and they weren't just sneaking around—they were causing chaos. A fire had broken out, and William could sense the guards rushing in confusion.
He opened his eyes, and for the first time in years, there was a flicker of hope in them. "There's a fire. Someone's causing chaos up there."
The sisters looked at each other, confused and hopeful. "Does that mean...?"
William stood up, his body tense, every muscle ready to move. His voice was sharp, focused. "This is it. Our chance."
Hancock stood as well, her eyes wide. "You think we can escape?"
"I know we can," William said, his voice low but firm. "If we move now, we can slip through while everyone's distracted. The guards will be too busy dealing with the fire."
Sandersonia and Marigold exchanged nervous glances, their hearts pounding with fear and excitement. They had dreamed of this moment, but now that it was here, the reality of it was terrifying.
"But what about Master Callen?" Marigold asked quietly. "He'll come after us if he finds out."
William's eyes darkened. "We kill the old pig before we leave."
The sisters froze, shocked by the cold finality in his voice. But Hancock, after a moment of hesitation, nodded. "We... we will."
William moved toward the door of their cell, his senses still on high alert. "I'll use my Haki to guide us. Stick close, and be ready for anything."
As they prepared to leave, the weight of the moment settled over them. This was the night they had been waiting for—the chance to finally break free from the chains that had bound them for so long. But it was also a night of danger, a night where everything could go horribly wrong.
But for William, there was no other option. For seven years, he had lived with the burden of his past, with the hatred that had burned in his chest. And now, at long last, he could see a way out.
With one final glance at Hancock, he nodded. "Stay close. This is the night everything changes."
And with that, they stepped into the darkness, ready to claim their freedom.