đ HEAR YE, HEAR YE, BRAVE SOULS! đâ¨
đĽ Let the drums of destiny roar as we welcome our newest LEGENDARY adventurer⌠âď¸ Buddyschlym! âď¸ đâĄď¸ Our journey just leveled UP with their arrival!
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The sun had long dipped below the horizon, leaving the evening cloaked in a thick darkness. The only sources of light came from the flickering torches of a group of shadowy figures making their way out of the city gates. They moved in silence, their faces partially obscured, carrying barrels and crates filled with flammable substances.
These were thugs and criminals, hired by the nobles to execute their dirty work. The nobles, sitting in their opulent mansions, couldn't be bothered to sully their hands, so they had paid these men to do the unthinkable.
The group worked quickly and efficiently under the watchful eyes of the residents of the Grey Terminal. The people, accustomed to the contempt and neglect of the city's elite, looked on with confusion and growing dread.
Whispers spread through the crowd as the thugs placed the barrels and crates strategically, ensuring maximum destruction.
The darkness seemed heavier now, pressing down like an omen, as the thugs' torches illuminated the eerie scene. Their boots crunched against the dirt, leaving trails behind them as they approached the massive city gates.
A sinister tension hung in the air, their earlier cocky swagger now replaced by a faint unease they couldn't quite explain.
The leader of the group, a stocky man with a scar stretching across his cheek, banged on the iron doors with the hilt of his sword, the loud clang reverberating into the silence. "Oi! Open up! Job's done! Let us back in!"
For a moment, there was only silence. The men exchanged uneasy glances. One younger thug, a wiry man with twitchy eyes, licked his dry lips. "Why are they taking so long? They said they'd open up as soon as we were done, right? Maybe they're busy or something?"
"Busy?" Scarface hissed, his expression tightening. "You think they're having tea while we wait like dogs out here? Open up, you bastards!"
Finally, a faint, disembodied chuckle drifted down from the top of the walls, sending a chill through the group.
Scarface's head snapped upward as a faint glow of lantern light illuminated two silhouetted figures perched smugly atop the stone walls.
"Oh, you're done?" One of the guards called out, dragging out the words with venomous amusement. "Good, good. Quick little maggots, aren't you? Don't know whether to praise your efficiency or pity your stupidity."
"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" Scarface growled, though the tightening grip on his weapon betrayed his growing anxiety.
The other guard leaned forward, resting lazily on the hilt of his spear.
"It means," He said, his voice dripping with mockery, "that you did such a fine job... we've decided to leave you where you belong. With the rest of the garbage!"
The realization hit like a cold slap to the face. A murmur of disbelief ran through the group, followed quickly by a rising panic.
"You're joking, right?!" A burly thug shouted, his eyes darting between his companions. "They wouldn't⌠they wouldn't dare lock us out here! We're working for the nobles, for crying out loud!"
"Nobles?" The first guard let out a snorting laugh, wiping imaginary tears from his eyes. "Oh, you poor fools. You really thought the nobles would lower themselves to dealing with trash like you beyond a handful of coins? You're a tool, nothing more. And what happens to tools when they're no longer useful? Why, they're thrown away."
"They lied to us!" One man hissed, a shaky fury building in his voice.
"Oh, please," The second guard drawled, his smirk audible. "Like you didn't know they'd lie. Face it, idiots: you're scum to them. Just useful scum, for the moment."
His grin widened, the cruelty in his tone sharpening like a blade. "Until now."
One of the younger men stepped forward, his voice quivering. "Wait! Let us in! We'llâ We'll tell them everything! We know who gave the orders, we knowâ!"
"Ah, ah, ah," The first guard interrupted, wagging a finger as though scolding a child. "Do you really think threatening us is the smart move here? I mean, look around."
He gestured toward the thick shadows surrounding Grey Terminal. "Once we give the signal, the fires will spread, and so will the blame. And who do you think will be the first ones accused of starting it, hm?"
The realization seemed to paralyze them. For the first time, the true weight of their situation sank in. If they stayed, they'd burn with the Terminal. If they survived, they'd bear the blame, painted as scapegoats in a tragedy the nobles had orchestrated.
"You can't leave us out here!" Scarface bellowed, his anger teetering on desperation. He slammed his fist against the gate, over and over. "Open the damn gates!"
"I'd recommend pacing yourselves," The second guard said, stifling a yawn. "You've got a few minutes before it all goes up in flames. Might as well enjoy the view."
The laughter above was cruel, heartless, cutting deep into whatever bravado the thugs had clung to. One by one, their defiance broke, replaced by pleas and curses shouted at the unforgiving iron doors. Some turned their fury on the guards, screaming threats they knew were meaningless. Others, like the wiry, twitchy-eyed thug, sank to the ground, clutching their heads as despair overwhelmed them.
Scarface's hands trembled, not from fear, but sheer rage. His voice, hoarse from shouting, dropped to a deadly snarl. "You think you're untouchable up there? You think the nobles won't turn on you next? Don't think this willâ"
He was cut off by a shrill whistle from the top of the wall.
"Oi, enough of the sermons, preacher!" The first guard called down. "Your job's done, so consider this our farewell. From one pile of garbage to anotherâgood riddance."
And with that, the guards disappeared from sight, their laughter echoing down the cold, silent streets as the thugs were left to face the vast, yawning darkness beyond the city gates.
Moments later, a deafening explosion rocked the air, and a sea of flames erupted, spreading rapidly through the Grey Terminal. The fire consumed everything in its pathâshacks, makeshift homes, and possessionsâall reduced to ash. The screams of the desperate echoed through the night as the inferno painted the sky in hues of orange and red.
On a hill overlooking the chaos, Luffy stood with Ann, Sabo, and Uta. The three watched in horror as the flames engulfed the Grey Terminal, their fists clenched in anger and helplessness.
"We have to do something!" Ann shouted, her voice trembling with urgency.
"They'll die!" Uta cried, tears streaming down her face.
Sabo's expression was a mix of fury and despair. "How can they do this? How can anyone be so heartless?"
Luffy, however, remained calm, his eyes fixed on the flames. He made no move to intervene, and his silence only stoked the anger of the others.
"Luffy!" Ann yelled, grabbing his arm. "Why are you just standing there? We can't let this happen!"
Sabo stepped forward, his voice sharp. "Luffy, this isn't like you! Why aren't you doing anything?"
Instead of answering, Luffy turned to them with a faint smile and pointed toward the coastline.
"Look," He said simply.
The group followed his gaze and saw, through the smoke and flames, a massive ship appearing in the distance. Its silhouette became clearer as it drew closer, illuminated by the fiery glow.
"What's that?" Uta asked, squinting to make out the details.
Ann's brow furrowed. "I don't recognize that symbol..."
But Luffy did. His eyes widened slightly as he took in the familiar insignia emblazoned on the ship's sails. It was the mark of the Revolutionary Army.
As the ship neared the coast, a sudden gust of wind swept through the Grey Terminal. The flames, which had been raging uncontrollably, parted as if pushed by an unseen hand, creating a clear path from the heart of the inferno to the ship.
Luffy couldn't see the figures on the ship clearly, but he could feel themâpowerful presences emanating auras of strength and determination. One aura, in particular, stood out to him.
It was strong, commanding, and strangely familiar, yet unfamiliar at the same time.
Luffy's lips curled into a knowing smile. "That's him."
"Who?" Sabo asked, his curiosity piqued.
"My father," Luffy said, his voice filled with certainty. "Monkey D. Dragon."
Ann, Uta, and Sabo turned their attention back to the ship, their eyes wide with disbelief.
"Your father?" Ann echoed. "That's your father?"
"Why is he here?" Uta asked, still stunned by the revelation.
"To save them," Luffy replied confidently, gesturing toward the Grey Terminal. "He's not someone who'd sit back and watch people suffer."
The others fell silent, watching as figures from the ship began to emerge, their movements swift and purposeful. Though the flames continued to burn around the Grey Terminal, there was now a glimmer of hope.
Sabo couldn't tear his eyes away, a mix of awe and relief washing over him. "The Revolutionary Army... they're here to save the people?"
Luffy nodded. "They won't let anyone die tonight."
Though the chaos and destruction raged on, the presence of the Revolutionary Army brought a sense of reassurance. For the people trapped in the Grey Terminal, salvation was near.
--- ⌠⌠⌠---
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