Montecassino Abbey Ruins
POV THIRD
The days after Garp's conversation with Natasha flew by. Three days later, the Polish army arrived and fortified the abbey ruins into a full military outpost. The Hydra tunnel network was thoroughly cleared by the Polish soldiers until not a single Hydra agent was left hiding. Garp's team could have done it themselves, but with just ten men, it wasn't exactly practical.
Shortly after the army's arrival, Natasha received her next orders, and they had to say goodbye. It was a brief farewell, but they promised to meet again someday under better circumstances—perhaps as friends, once the war was finally over.
Seven days later, new orders came in for Garp and his team.
"Alright, boys, we have a new objective," Fury announced. "We're to secure all the batteries for transport to Sicily. Two transports will pick us up tomorrow morning. After that, it's front leave for a month—except for Garp, Creed, and Howlett. You three have new orders, a separate mission. They need your firepower and healing factors for an upcoming operation in northern France."
Garp's plan was working so far; now he just needed a way to destroy the cargo. The thought of seeing these weapons deployed on every front, raising the death toll on both sides, was something he couldn't stomach.
He had no real fear of consequences or punishment—what could they do, lock him up? There wasn't a prison that could hold him. Kill him? He was too valuable. Send him to the front as punishment? He was already there.
The next day, they carefully loaded hundreds of fully charged batteries, filled with the strange energy, along with hundreds of scientists, onto two large transport ships.
Garp was looking forward to the voyage. Since he was a kid, he'd felt the call of the sea. In another life, he might have been a pirate, free, bound only by his own will. It sounded like a good life.
At least, that would be true if that world was a better place, and people weren't always trying to kill each other for small or large gains. So maybe he'd be more of a "sea policeman" if such a thing existed.
"What the hell am I even thinking about?" he caught himself. Right now, he was stationed at the bow, playing the role of lookout.
He needed to focus on his upcoming crime. Not like he could just knock everyone out with his Emperor's Haki and toss the batteries overboard, then swim to the other boat and do it again.
Then he stopped, mid-thought. Why the hell not? He could make this as complicated as he wanted, but with no fear of punishment… why not keep it simple? Tonight, he'd put his plan into action.
A few hours later, the ship's deck was silent, the sea calm beneath a sliver of moonlight. He stayed at the bow, keeping watch, waiting. Just as he'd planned, the crew had settled in, and he could feel them drifting into sleep. Now it was his turn.
Moving quietly, he stepped away from his post and made his way down to the storage hold, where row after row of those cursed Hydra batteries lay strapped into crates. With a final scan through Observation Haki to ensure no one was around, he made his move. He gathered his strength and released a powerful wave of Conqueror's Haki, letting it radiate across the ship. One by one, the minds around him flickered out, dropping into unconsciousness.
He worked quickly, hauling crates up to the deck, the sound of the waves and hum of the engines covering any noise he might have made. Each crate went overboard, sinking fast into the dark water, the splashes blending into the night.
Halfway through, his Haki alerted him to a soldier stirring nearby. It was Fury, who had awakened earlier than the rest. His footsteps were faint but too close for comfort. Garp didn't hesitate. With another concentrated burst of Conqueror's Haki, Fury went down again.
Garp walked over and took a battery from Fury's pocket. "Nice try, Fury… too bad the energy has somewhat of a will," he whispered into the silence and moved on.
He continued, moving crate after crate, until only one remained.
Lifting the last crate, he brought it up to the deck and tossed it over the edge, watching it disappear into the waves, and then leapt in right after it.
The impact with the water was a hard slap, but he cut through the surface and swam toward the other ship, where the next crates waited. There was no hesitation. The same operation unfolded again without any complications. Later they would find nothing left.
Garp returned to his post at the bow, shaking the water off himself like a dog. Then he grinned and waited for the team to wake up. He didn't have to wait long until he heard a furious voice shout, "GAAAAARPP!"
"Bwahahaha!"
TRANSPORT SHIP
POV FURY
'The motherfucker actually did it! I had a hunch, but I never thought Garp would go this far… and the worst part? There was nothing I could do about it. Garp is practically untouchable, and it seems he know it!' I fumed internally, wanting to smash everything around me.
I knew there was no stopping him; I'd needed his Observation abilities for maximum security on the trsnsport. If I'd left him in Italy, he probably would've just did it in a much cruder way like blowing up the batteries than and there. Now, we'd have at least the chance to retrieve the cargo piece by piece. Meanwhile, Garp was moved to the front with the brothers—plenty of time for us to handle things without his interference.
'Maybe the bastard will finally get himself killed,' I thought, half-wishing it. Not that I really expected it. But truth be told, I wouldn't miss the headache. Without him, I might even get some peace. And yet… I couldn't help but admire the stubborn bastard. In another life, I'd probably have wanted him as my best friend. But this was war. I had to rely on my team, or we were all dead.
'And now I'm the one left to explain this mess… I'll probably end up as the scapegoat, too. Fuck you, Garp!'
Sicily
POV THIRD
A week had passed since the arrival of the transport ships in Sicily. Just as expected, Garp got away with barely a slap on the wrist. The commanders knew they couldn't severely punish someone so critical to countless military operations. Besides, Garp had executed every order flawlessly up until now. Sure, it was a missed opportunity, but the generals didn't fully grasp the potential value of those batteries.
In their view, the war could be won without fancy inventions and technology. The Fleet Admiral himself had backed Garp, protecting him from any serious consequences.
So, officially, the whole affair was swept under the rug. Unofficially, however, Fury was called in to report to his superiors and would likely face a tough time ahead. But as for our local Marine hero…
Garp had just received his latest orders. Operation Diadem was merely the first battle in a larger strategic masterpiece. While the primary goal was to defeat the German forces in Italy, an even greater objective was to pin them down there, setting the stage for the next phase… Operation Neptune.
Operation Neptune aimed to launch a massive offensive on Normandy and strike at the heart of the Third Reich. The core mission would be the landings in Normandy and the assault on the heavily fortified coastline.
Garp, along with Creed and Howlett, was assigned to lead the charge, moving ahead to destroy as many machine gun nests as they could find. Command knew thousands would lose their lives in the invasion, and they hoped the three could reduce those losses at least a little bit.
OPERATION NEPTUNE
D-DAY
POV GARP
The salty sea wind lashed my face as the landing craft lurched toward the beaches of Normandy. We couldn't even see the shore yet, but the thunder of gunfire and explosions was already deafening. The Germans had opened fire, and I could feel the first lives around me slipping away before I could do anything to help.
I knew today would see thousands die, and no matter what I did, I couldn't save them all. We couldn't storm this beach alone, just the three of us—it would take days, and the Nazis would just keep bringing in reinforcements. And I didn't plan to find out what would break first: our strength or the number of German soldiers.
Our mission was straightforward: lead the charge, draw their fire, and unleash devastation. I was determined to save as many lives as I could, on both sides. Men on both sides were here following orders, not by choice. From both armies, I could feel unease, desperation, and a hell of a lot of fear.
I'd do my best to take as many German soldiers captive as possible or at least keep my strikes non-lethal. A life in captivity was still a life.
As we neared the shore, I grabbed James and Victor, one in each hand, and with a powerful jump, I launched us forward, leaping high over the incoming waves and beach defenses. The force nearly tipped the landing craft as I launched, and for a moment, I could see the entire, heavily fortified German line from above.
Anticipation surged through me—a rush of adrenaline, the thrill of battle—and I let out a booming laugh as I hurled the brothers toward the nearest machine-gun nests.
Then, gravity took over, and I began my own descent. Just before I hit the ground, I drew my leg back and braced, aiming for the classic landing position—one knee close to the ground, fist clenched, gaze locked forward. The impact carved a crater into the beach, sand erupting in all directions, and the noise of it matched my own roaring laughter.
The Nazi soldiers around me recoiled, eyes wide with shock.
"Bwahahaha!"
I unleashed a massive wave of Conqueror's Haki, sending everyone within a 300-meter radius collapsing to the ground. Unlike my Observation Haki, the radius of my Conqueror's Haki was smaller, and the farther it reached, the weaker its effects became. Those on the edges of my range staggered, fighting against its force—they weren't unconscious, but they were stunned.
I took off at a sprint, aiming to disable as many enemy soldiers as possible before the rest of our forces made it to the beach.
The next hours, days—maybe only minutes—blurred together, impossible to track. I fought on like a machine, numb to the nightmare unraveling around me. Everywhere, there were bodies, mangled corpses, torn apart by bullets, blasted into pieces. The screams of the wounded cut through the ceaseless drum of gunfire.
But I didn't stop. We kept breaking through the Nazi lines, leaving a trail of destruction—unconscious soldiers in my wake, dead in Victor and James's. My face was not longer grinning, even Victor's expression had turned grim. War's horror spared no one.
Certain images seared themselves into my memory. The sight of a machine gun tearing through a row of soldiers before I could throw myself in front of them. The terror in the gunner's eyes just before my fist knocked him out. The horror never stopped.
I killed exactly 69 that day, every one of them wearing Hydra armbands. Except for one—a soldier on our side, desecrating the corpse of a fallen comrade. The others, I left unconscious or in captivity, hoping that was enough.
It was just forward, forward, forward. I didn't care, as long as this nightmare finally ended.
James threw himself into a hail of machine-gun fire, shielding the soldiers behind him. His face contorted in pain as he charged forward, driving his bone claws into the shooter. Victor, like a berserker, tore through the enemy ranks, slashing through every soldier in his path.
Time lost all meaning. Seconds became minutes, then hours, until suddenly, the battlefield fell silent. The last German soldiers were retreating. None of us had the strength to chase after them. Somewhere in the quiet, a nameless soldier let out a shout, sparking a wave of cheers through the Allied forces.
Many wept—tears of relief, of pain, of the horrors they'd endured. And I? I laughed, barking out a hollow laugh that echoed over the sand.
I didn't know why I laughed. It just burst out of me, even as warm tears traced down my cheeks. Tears for every life lost in this brutal, bloody battle.
Victor and James walked toward me. When they finally stopped beside me, a wide grin spread across Victor's face.
"That was fun!" he said, earning himself a fist to the face. He flew backward, hit like he'd been struck by a truck, and the crunch under my knuckles told me I'd broken something.
"He'll never learn…" James muttered quietly before asking, "So, what happens now?"
As the highest-ranking among us, command had technically been left to me by central command. I looked at him seriously and said, "We'll probably get new orders soon. War doesn't wait for anyone, and the next battle's always just around the corner. But right now, I need a break. Got any cigars?"
Not long after, there we were, surrounded by bodies and blood, calmly smoking cigars as Victor, face dented and slowly healing, joined us. We enjoyed the quiet for a brief moment—until a soldier came running up to us.
"SIRS! General Eisenhower has requested your presence! New orders await!"
"Told you…" I said to James as we followed the soldier to the General for the operation.
(TO BE CONTINUED)