Below Pangaea – The Chamber Breathes
Raisa and Mireille returned to the hatch at dawn. Not with tools, but followers.
Four girls. All former slaves' daughters. Quiet, obedient, wide-eyed. Not yet women, not quite children. The same age Raisa had been when Lucien saved her.
Each carried a sealed urn marked with the Donquixote crest.
"This place," Mireille said as they descended, "is no longer forgotten."
She wasn't wrong.
The chamber pulsed faintly now, a thrum in the walls like the heartbeat of a slumbering god. Symbols on the floor shimmered with unreadable script.
Raisa poured ash from one of the urns into a central groove.
The pulse grew stronger.
"Whose remains were those?" asked one of the girls.
Raisa smiled gently.
"Failures."
Kuja Ship – Boa's Letter
Hancock stared at the parchment in her private cabin. The wax seal had long since been broken.
Inside were only a few words.
"You were always more than a weapon."—F.
Her hand trembled slightly.
The only person who ever called her that was Fisher Tiger.
But he was dead.
Wasn't he?
She looked toward Mariejois from the deck. The spires of Pangaea Castle stabbed at the sky like fingers of a dead god.
Lucien's silhouette passed behind a window—casual, lounging, draped in silk and menace.
For the first time in weeks… she frowned.
Pangea Castle – Throne of Chains
Lucien had a new chair installed.
The empty throne—Imu's "Invisible Throne"—remained untouched at the summit.
But at the base of its stairs now stood a second seat. Black stone, gold trim, shaped like intertwining chains.
He sat there daily. Calm. Quiet.
And kings still came to him with petitions.
One by one.
"Why not take the true throne?" Hancock asked him later.
Lucien smiled without looking at her. "Because what's seen can be destroyed. But what's underneath?" He turned to her.
"That's forever."
Cipher Pol Surveillance – Recovered Audio
CP-0 Agent: "He's begun grooming children."
CP-8 Operative: "Girls from the slave pens. Raised in silence, trained like Cipher Pol cadets, but loyal only to him."
CP-0 Agent: "Names?"
CP-8 Operative: "They don't use them anymore. He calls them 'Mirrors.'"
CP-0 Agent: "...He's building a dynasty."
Donquixote Estate – Mirror Training Hall
The four new girls moved as one.
Raisa watched from the shadows, correcting posture, balance, and form. Mireille taught from the center, her blades flashing in practiced arcs.
They were graceful. Deadly. Silent.
Lucien entered mid-session. All four stopped and kneeled the moment they sensed him.
He walked past without speaking, brushing his hand lightly over each of their heads.
"They'll be ready," Raisa said.
"They'll be better," Lucien corrected.
He turned to Mireille. "Teach them to read Void Script. Start with the mural."
Under the Garden – Whispering Walls
Raisa returned alone to the chamber that night.
She touched the mural again.
Something had changed.
A new crack. A glowing line down the center of the winged figure. The spiral symbol was growing, carving itself deeper across the far wall like it was alive.
The chamber wasn't just waking up.
It was remembering.