"…So you sold a prototype to the underworld."
The voice wasn't loud.
But it carried weight. Absolute and final.
Inside the scorched meeting chamber deep within Marine HQ, Fleet Admiral Sengoku stood with arms folded, his coat draped over his shoulders like a storm waiting to break. To his right, Vice Admiral Tsuru stood silent, unreadable.
Before them, a Marine captain — older, trembling, sweat running down his face — knelt with shackled hands.
"I-I didn't know they'd restart the project—"
"You knew it wasn't yours," Sengoku cut in sharply. "Vegapunk's research was classified. Selling it to the black market wasn't just greed — it was treason."
He turned to Tsuru, his voice ice.
"Dispose of him quietly. Make it clear this kind of treason isn't forgotten."
Tsuru nodded. "Understood."
The captain's face went pale. "Wait! Please—!"
But he was already being dragged from the chamber.
The door closed behind him.
The screaming didn't last long.
Sengoku turned back to the three agents standing in the chamber's shadow.
"CP8."
The lead agent stepped forward, a black suit and dead eyes.
"The SER-4PH-V01 project has resumed. We're under direct orders to retrieve the prototype immediately."
"Good," Sengoku said. "Burn anything that gets in your way. That weapon doesn't leave Spider Miles."
The agents vanished without another word.
⸻
Spider Miles — Hours Later
Nox, Snaps, and Mara crouched in an underground tunnel, lit by flickering lanterns. The air was thick with heat and dust, the sound of distant generators rumbling above them.
"You sure this leads to the vault?" Mara whispered.
Snaps grinned, adjusting his gloves. "Unless they rebuilt the place this morning? Yeah."
"Good," Nox muttered. "I am not crawling back outta this sewer."
They pressed forward, eventually emerging behind a grated wall that overlooked the main vault.
The Auction Vault.
Piles of sealed crates. Glimmering weapons. Stolen heirlooms. Coins. Scrolls. Armor.
But that wasn't all.
Dozens of cages lined the far wall.
Some held children. Others — a Fishman, shackled and bruised. A Mermaid, curled into herself, eyes wide with fear. Others huddled quietly, broken, forgotten.
And at the very center —
A reinforced cage unlike the rest.
A label etched in the front: Project SER-4PH-V01: Subject V0-R4N
Inside sat a man.
If "man" still applied.
His wings — one black, one white — were small, folded tight against his back. White hair fell in uneven strands, framing a sharp, unreadable face. His skin was dark, his body bound at the neck, wrists, and ankles in thick, dark manacles that shimmered with a faint pulse. These weren't ordinary restraints — they drained something deeper, something vital.
He looked up as the vault lights flickered.
His eyes glowed molten gold, each iris marked with a sharp, star-shaped pupil.
[SYSTEM ALERT]
[QUEST TARGET LOCATED]
[SIDE QUEST: THE CAGED FLAME]
[STATUS: INTERVENTION REQUIRED]
Snaps squinted. "That's the prototype."
"No," Nox said. "That's a person."
He stepped out before anyone could stop him — gripped the massive vault door with both hands, veins bulging — and with a guttural roar, tore it off its hinges. Metal screamed. The whole frame shook.
The crash set off the alarms instantly.
Red lights. Screaming sirens. Screeches from distant guards.
Snaps bolted behind cover. "ARE YOU INSANE?!"
Mara drew her blades. "Too late now!"
But Nox didn't stop there.
He ran from cage to cage. Shattering locks. Tearing chains.
The Fishman — freed.
The Mermaid — freed.
Children. Adults. All of them.
"Move!" Nox barked. "NOW!"
Dozens of prisoners ran into the tunnels. The alarms howled louder.
Snaps and Mara ducked between vault racks, snatching valuables, prying open crates, and stuffing what they could into sacks.
"you just had to set off every damn alarm in the building, didn't you?!" Snaps hissed.
Nox turned back to the final cage.
The man inside hadn't moved. Just watched.
"You… set them free."
Nox nodded.
"Why?"
He shrugged. "Felt like it."
Then, without another word, grabbed the reinforced bars — and ripped the cage door clean off its hinges.Metal groaned. The frame buckled.
He dropped the twisted door behind him with a loud CLANG and crouched beside the prisoner.
"Well then… let's get rid of those shackles."
"These shackles… you see the shine? They're not just metal."
Nox stepped closer. "What are they?"
"…Seastone," the man said. "Kairōseki. It's a rare mineral that drains Devil Fruit powers. Burns like acid. Leaves you helpless."
"You've got one?" Nox asked.
"Yes. And they don't want me using it."
Nox cracked his knuckles. "Good thing I don't have one yet."
He reached down and gripped one of the shackles.
His muscles flared.
GRRRRK.
One chain snapped.
Then another.
And another.
Finally, with a roar, he pulled the collar from the man's throat.
Steam hissed from the broken Seastone.
The man didn't fall. He rose.
Fire lit across his shoulders. His wings stretched fully. One dark, one White — like a war between day and night.
"What's your name?" Nox asked.
"…Project SER-4PH-V01: Subject V0-R4N."
Nox blinked. "Yeah, no. That's a mouthful. I'm callin' you Voran."
The man… Voran… blinked. Then gave the faintest smirk.
Voran blinked. His eyes narrowed."You came here for me?"
"Wasn't planning on the detour," Nox muttered, "but yeah. I came looking for you."
"…Why?"
Nox grinned, just a little."Dunno. Voice in my head said you'd make a good crewmate."
He gave a half-laugh, waving it off like a joke."Probably hallucinating."
But Voran kept staring at him. The flames behind his eyes didn't waver.
And the alarms kept screaming.
Voran looked around at the chaos. "So. What now?"
Nox rubbed the back of his neck.
"I'm still figuring that out."
He grinned, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"I woke up with no past. No name.
He gestured to the mess around them. "I'm making a crew. Not sure what for yet."
His voice dropped, quiet but certain.
"But I want to find out what I am."
He turned, taking a few steps toward the sirens blaring down the corridor — the sound of chaos catching up.
"You don't have to come," Nox added. "But if you're done being someone else's weapon… and you want to carve out your own story…"
He looked over his shoulder.
"Then follow me."
Voran looked him over. The smiling Oni in a bright red floral shirt who looked more like a lost tourist.
Then the broken chains. The freed slaves.
Then he nodded once.
"I'll follow you."
⸻