Darkness.
Dampness.
The stench of rot.
It crept into Ace's nose as he breathed.
Flickering torchlight danced along the walls on both sides of the corridor, casting shadows across his face, a face full of despair.
Clank, clank, clank...
The relentless rattle of shackles echoed through the prison, pounding against his spirit like a drum.
This was Impel Down, the massive deep-sea prison surrounded by Sea Kings, hidden in the Calm Belt.
He bitterly regretted not listening to Pops' warnings — rushing off alone to hunt down Blackbeard had led him to this fate.
> Does Pops... feel heartbroken?
Just moments after entering Level One, a portly man with a forked weapon and a smug face approached, flanked by a squad of stern-faced guards.
"Well, well, isn't this Vice Admiral Momonga? Long time no see," the man greeted.
"Hannyabal, Deputy Warden," the mole-faced vice admiral nodded back.
"This is the prisoner for transfer. Fleet Admiral Sengoku gave explicit orders — he is to be placed in Level Six," the vice admiral said, giving Ace a push forward.
"Oh?"
Hannyabal raised an eyebrow in surprise, then quickly recognized Ace.
"Second Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, huh? Yeah, someone like him definitely belongs in Level Six."
"Then I'll leave him in your hands," said Vice Admiral Momonga.
"Heh heh, it's no trouble at all! I mean, the Warden's position will be mine sooner or later anyway."
"Oops! Did I just say that out loud?"
Hannyabal covered his mouth in mock panic and gave a glance to the guards behind him, signaling them to take over custody of Ace.
Vice Admiral Momonga, familiar with Hannyabal's loose lips, didn't linger. With the handover done, he quickly departed with his men — after all, tensions were high, and the Navy headquarters might need reinforcements at any time.
With the transfer complete, Hannyabal led his team and their new prisoner deeper down the corridor.
They entered the lift, descending quickly into the dreaded Level Six — known as Eternal Hell.
There was no screaming.
No sound at all.
Only a deep, eerie silence.
As they walked, even Hannyabal, usually loud and boisterous, fell uncharacteristically quiet. The oppressive atmosphere of Level Six weighed on them all.
"Pick a cell," Hannyabal said after a while, stopping mid-step.
"You get one privilege here — the right to choose your cell."
Just as he finished speaking, the silence shattered.
"Let me out, Hannyabal!"
"You bastard! Get over here so I can break your face!"
"Hahaha… Hannyabal! Hope you washed your ass today!"
"HANNYABAL!!"
Suddenly, a chorus of curses and jeers erupted throughout the level. Prisoners howled from the darkness, their voices wild and savage.
"SHUT UP!!"
Hannyabal roared in frustration, then turned to Ace.
"Make it quick, brat. I don't want to spend a second longer than I have to in this loony bin."
Ace raised his head, glancing around the desolate prison block — dark, damp, cold, and reeking of mold.
After a moment of scanning the cells, he pointed to a massive, mist-shrouded cage in the distance, away from the other prisoners.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!"
Hannyabal shrieked before Ace could even speak.
"That's not for you!"
His expression twisted in horror, as if just thinking about what was inside made his blood run cold.
Ace hadn't really meant to pick that cell — he was just curious.
But now, seeing Hannyabal's reaction, his interest was piqued.
Instead, he pointed to a cell near the ominous one.
"Hahaha! Look at this little brat," a cocky voice called out from a nearby cell.
"Doesn't even know he's about to get himself killed! You have no idea what's in there…"
"Douglas Bullet, shut your mouth!"
Hannyabal snapped, his sharp voice slicing through the air.
That cage had existed since the earliest days of Impel Down.
Its secrets were passed down only to the Wardens. But in this era, due to Magellan's Devil Fruit side effects, he couldn't always perform his duties — so Hannyabal, as his trusted second, had been let in on some of it.
Even that tiny bit of knowledge was enough to shake the foundations of the world.
Luckily, very few on the outside knew anything about it — but Douglas Bullet, a former member of the Pirate King's crew, was one of them.
Unusually, Bullet didn't respond. He simply frowned, eyeing Ace with vague recognition before retreating back into the shadows of his cell.
"You sure you want that one?" Hannyabal asked.
"Don't say I didn't warn you. Every prisoner who's stayed near that thing has met a… bad end."
Ace paused, hesitating for a brief moment.
But when he thought about the possibility of rotting away in Eternal Hell for the rest of his life, he shrugged it off and nodded.
"Yeah. I'll take it."
"Hah! Still green, huh?"
"Anyone wanna place bets? I give him one day — tops."
"Pfft, one day? I bet he won't last half."
Laughter and jeers echoed from the surrounding cells.
Faint outlines of criminals emerged from the gloom — monstrous men, each one more savage than the last.
"Well, you made your choice," Hannyabal muttered.
"I'll be back in ten days. If you're still alive by then, you can pick again."
He gave Ace a light shove and turned to the guards.
"You wait at the gate. I'll escort him myself."
That was strange. Hannyabal never did anything personally if he could avoid it. But this time, he looked unusually serious.
That terrifying cage filled people with dread — but it also held… potential.
He'd learned that from the routine inspections.
As they left the main block and approached the cage, the very air began to change.
Thick. Heavy. Suffocating.
Ace, already restrained by sea-prism shackles, didn't have the strength to resist. His breathing grew ragged. His limbs felt like lead. His face turned pale.
"What's the matter? Can't handle a little pressure?"
Hannyabal sneered, a devilish grin spreading across his face.
Ace gritted his teeth. No way he was backing down. He locked his eyes forward and kept moving.
Fortunately, the cell wasn't far.
Soon, they reached the one Ace had chosen.
Hannyabal swung the door open and shoved him inside.
"You picked it, so no need for chains. Let's see if you're still breathing next time I drop by."
Then, Hannyabal gave the misty cage one last look.
After a brief moment of hesitation, he turned and walked toward it.
Even though it chilled him to the bone, every visit brought results. If he wanted the Warden's seat, he couldn't afford to skip it.
He stepped through the icy mist… and stood before the colossal cell.
Compared to it, he felt like an insect.
A fifty-meter-wide cage sealed a massive, square-shaped block of translucent ice, seamlessly fused with the prison walls.
Chains as thick as tree trunks — five meters across — stretched from the four corners of the cage, glowing with frost, keeping the block frozen solid.
Inside that ice…
Like something sealed in amber…
Three monstrous heads loomed — each one draconic, each crowned with crescent-shaped horns.
Their snarling jaws and gnarled features radiated pure, primal terror.
Hannyabal stared up at the three heads, frozen in eternal slumber.
Even now, after all his visits, the sight never failed to shake him to his core.