Rays of harsh sunlight beat down on Roronoa Zoro. His eyelids fluttered as consciousness returned to him. With a groan, he tried to move, but his arms didn't budge. His wrists burned, raw against coarse rope. Blinking away the brightness, his vision cleared—and his confusion hit him like a freight ship.
"What the...?" he muttered, his deep voice tinged with irritation and disbelief.
The image before him was too familiar. The Marine base, the unforgiving dirt beneath his knees, and the towering wooden cross to which he was bound—it was as though he had been ripped straight back in time to that fateful day so many years ago.
"This doesn't make any damn sense," he growled, straining against the bindings. With a flick of his wrists, he expected the ropes to snap like cheap thread. But they didn't. Somehow, despite the monstrous strength he'd cultivated through battles against the world's strongest fighters, the bindings held firm.
Then he glanced down and froze. Sandai Kitetsu was missing, as was Enma—no, of course Enma wouldn't be here. He didn't have it back then. Only Wado Ichimonji rested at his side.
He let out an irritated growl. "Fine. I don't need all three to cut my way out of this." A gleam of haki coated his one remaining blade, and Zoro began slicing at the ropes with surgical precision.
Still, unease gnawed at his mind. "Where's the rest of the crew? Was the storm just... a dream?" He narrowed his eyes at the empty courtyard. "This feels like the past, but if anyone from this Marine base tries to mess with me, they're about to learn just how much stronger I've become."