Chapter 13: World's End

Open Ocean: Mariejois outskirts

Acheron gazed out over the vast armada of pirate ships assembled around the Grim Angel, the de facto flagship simply by him standing upon it, and smiled. Finally, after having to knuckle under to a washed up pirate lord, namely Edward Newgate, and put up with so much shit, specifically Impel Down, he could bring about a glorious revolution and smack the World Government around like the sniveling little kids back in Nordburg. The only thing that diminished the moment was that both his father and mother were perched up on the poop deck, watching him, more so his father than his mother. After all, Sophitia hadn't really done anything to put him off yet, and he figured he owed her big for the simple act of giving birth to him. Also, there was the fact that it bothered him to see every pirate on board giving his mother the same sort of leering stare that he shot at any other pretty girl. Not that she wasn't worthy of it just, oh that thought felt so awkward even in the confines of his head.

He turned towards Clayton, who was one of those guilty for leering at his mother. "Remind me of the plan, and how Miss Snake Princess is fitting into this whole thing."

The pirate either didn't hear him, unlikely, or was simply ignoring him. "I tell you what lad, I take back every nasty thing I ever said about your mother, both in public and in private…"

He blew up at the former captain, roaring at the top of his lungs. "Yes I get it; my mom has a serious case of MILF going on! Now will you focus on something other than her tits so we can sack Mariejois before the day is out?"

Clayton finally looked him in the eye, grinning like a fiend. "I could very easily focus on something other than her tits, preferably her ass. But I do get your point." The pirate bellowed an order at the rest of the crew. "Alright lads, run up the flag. Let's show those bastards who they're dealing with!"

He briefly watched the sudden frenzy of activity before turning back to the former captain, "Again, the plan?"

Clayton nodded once, grey eyes gleaming. "Aye, I think I can do that." The pirate pointed off towards the walls of the city. "We made a bit of a show of chasing the wench inside the walls before backing off. Once we deal with their navy Boa Hancock's supposed to open the gates to let us into their harbor. After that the city is essentially ours, since we so drastically outnumber the Marines. The only real difficulty might be taking the castle on the inside, but I figure you and your fancy devil fruit can solve that problem when we get to it."

Soul Calibur whispered in his head. "Don't look now, but I think I heard a note of respect in that."

He silently agreed and gestured towards the distant walls. "Well, what are you waiting for? Send in the ships!"

Clayton obeyed and made a series of overt gestures to one of the crew stationed high up in the rigging. That pirate started waving a couple of small colored flags in a complex pattern that he couldn't quite follow or understand. But he understood the effect quite well, as whatever was said sent his fleet charging forward over the waves towards the arrayed navy of the World Government.

Momentarily satisfied, and smirking like a champ, he ascended to the poop deck and leaned on the railing next to his mother. "So, what do you think of my grand armada?"

Erasmus swept his glowing gaze across the charging ships left and right, silent for a moment as he formulated a response. "Honestly, I think both the words 'grand' and 'armada' are overstatements. Your troops are rowdy, undisciplined, and very loosely organized. Though I suppose one can expect no more from pirates on such a scale. Further, it does say quite a bit in your favor that you managed to cobble this mass of drunken fools together at all."

His mother shot him a crooked smile, shrugging as she answered. "I'll be honest, I know next to nothing about ships and navies. So I'll have to agree with Erasmus by default." Sophitia took two steps and planted a light kiss upon the right cheek of his helmet. "I'm very proud of you Acheron."

He felt his face start to burn as he heard the low snickers of the crew and grumbled. "Mom, not right here in front of everyone."

Soul Calibur took that moment to make things worse. "Aw, isn't that cute? You're embarrassed by mommy kissing you in public."

The sword started to laugh, but he quickly put a stop to that by jabbing a thumb into what counted as her eye. The single squawk of surprise and slight pain ended the jingling sound of laughter from the sword, but only sparked the low rumbling chuckle of his father and the musical little giggle of his mother. In short, his efforts did nothing to alleviate the humiliation.

Erasmus gestured out to sea, at the far port side of the World Government navy. "I would like to amend what I said just prior with one last detail, your men seem to be extremely poor tacticians. The enemy ships are arranged in a long line, a line which is bending around your advancing vessels and surrounding them. This action will trap the majority of your fleet in a deadly crossfire."

Faced with this observation he was forced to closely look towards the lines of ships spreading out ahead of his charging pirate allies. Truly, the World Government fleet was wrapping around the pirates like a sheet would close around a thrown object. Already, cannon fire was ripping into the leading pirate ships that were currently unable to return fire.

He brought his clutched fists down on the railing in anger, splintering the wood in his frustration. "Damn, why do I get stuck with idiots at every opportunity? What the fuck did I do to deserve this?"

Slowly, almost without conscious thought, his head turned towards his father as the ships at the front of his armada started to explode, powder kegs igniting with thunderous roars one after the other.

Erasmus met his gaze, bloody eyes dimly glowing. "Would you like some help?" He hesitated, dreading that he might appear weak in front of, well, anyone, but the senior Overlord continued little more than a heartbeat later. "A general, or in this case an admiral, cannot be blamed for the stupidity of his soldier's actions when they are not under his direct mental command. Those men that are dying have only themselves to blame, and the footnotes of history will remember it that way. They will remember you as the monarch that saved his people."

He bit his lip, hesitated for a moment, and then broke. "Fine, yes I would like a little help with destroying the fleet. But I don't see how you're going to do anything from the deck."

His father shot him a wink that resembled a small explosion before unlimbering the gigantic, blood-red greatsword that clung to the back of his armor, the blade which could be nothing but Soul Edge. "Please, have a little bit of faith Acheron." The man used one arm to gesture to the far off World Government fleet off the port side of the Grim Angel. "I'll take this side, and you can deal with the other one. We'll meet up at the gate, where we'll tear it down together."

Before he could even begin to ask the redundant question of how his father planned on getting to the far off World Government ships the question was answered for him. The old Overlord took a short hop away from the railing, took one jogging step forward, and catapulted himself off into the bright sky at an insane velocity, far more that he had managed out of Clayton's "man-cannon." As he watched his father essentially fly to the distant ship it momentarily occurred to him that he could open a portal in front of the Old Man and simply send the geezer into the briny deep to drown, but, his mother was standing right next to him and that was the man she loved. Damn, he couldn't just kill the guy off. His mother would never forgive him. Off in the distance his father came down precisely on the middle on the frigate, and it seemed like only a few seconds of blindingly fast blade work before the burning husk of a ship was sinking into the ocean and his father was leaping to the next ship in line like a black, fiery harbinger of doom.

He snarled as he realized that largely the same was expected from him. "Ok Old Man, you want to play like that? Fine, I'll beat you to that gate by a mile!"

He did an about face, ignoring the concerned look on his mother's face as he leaped off of the opposite railing and mirrored what his father had done, only through portal use and not raw physical power, and landed atop the mast of the first World Government ship that was harassing, and ultimately slaughtering, his pirate allies. With raw frustration and rage fueling his ingenuity, he opened a portal directly beneath the ship he was standing on, which dropped both him and his suddenly free falling perch through another equally large portal that dropped the improvised projectile square on top of a different frigate. Both ships were horribly mangled by the impact and immediately started to sink as their combined mass overwhelmed any buoyancy that either could provide by itself. He shot a glance towards the far side of the aquatic battle field, toward his father, and was stunned and further enraged by the observation that there were already four more burning wreaks to join the first Erasmus had made, and a fifth soon joined the tally.

He roared across the water, however unlikely it was that his elder would hear him. "You're not going to beat me, you hear that?"

A sixth ship exploded violently as soon as he finished speaking, and Soul Calibur lazily commented. "Clearly not, because he's still, how do people put it, handing your ass to you on a plate."

Bellowing in an almost berserker rage he dove for the deck of the doomed ships and opened another portal, this one to the poop deck of the largest ship on his side of the nautical battle, a massive war galley with row upon row of cannons shooting thundering balls of iron into the splintering ranks of the regular pirates. A tall man in a fancy white coat turned as soon as his metal boots hit the deck, because they came down hard and loud, but he didn't even think before whipping Soul Calibur off of his back and cutting the man in half from shoulder to hip. He raced for the helm, snatching it and giving it a violent spin to starboard and redirecting the next accidental volley towards the three ships he could strike, and strike he did. All three of the other vessels were taking on water and were surely doomed to the depths. But he wasn't about to stop there, with a spark of brutal genius he turned his attention towards the cannons lining the upper deck, now sitting abandoned by their crews, and raised his hands like a conductor for an orchestra. One after the other, each accompanied by the extremely satisfying sound of tortured, splintering wood, he dropped each massive cannon on the deck of another ship from a height significant enough to cause the heavy piece of metal to crash right through all the levels of wood and right out the bottom of the hull. At least twelve more sinking ships could now be attributed directly to him.

He struck one clenched fist against his chest as he looked out at the spreading wreckage. "YES! That's how a pro takes care of business!"

Again, Soul Calibur saw fit to ruin the moment. "Well, the pro needs to get his but in gear, because he is still losing, badly."

Twenty something burning wreaks now littered the other side of the conflict, and he blurted out a furious question as he rushed to make up the difference. "Do these fucking things explode the moment he touches them?"

Proceeding as fast as he could push himself, using whatever methods his mind could pick up on the spot, he raced across the ships of the enemy fleet, destroying them as he went. Really, his methods of destruction were fairly limited as he was trying for maximum speed at the same time. All he could really do was drop heavy objects from on high onto frigates ahead of him, and smaller ships onto the galleons. It was effective, but the repetition was grating to him.

Soul Calibur got his attention. "Whoa, whoa ok you can stop now! Don't sink everything! I don't want to end up stuck on the bottom of the ocean for the rest of time!"

Surprise brought him pause, he was indeed standing on the last vessel of the entire enemy fleet. So, what did that mean for the little competition proposed by his father? Did he dare to hope that he had destroyed his half of the fleet first?

What sounded like applause, and indeed sincere applause if a bit low in volume, reached his ears. "You are definitely a son of mine, no one else could have ripped through those ships as fast." He looked towards the sound, and his heart sank. Erasmus was leaning against the mast of the ship as casually as could be amidst a brutal scene of slaughter. "I would have but one piece of criticism for you…" The elder Overlord left the mast, clearly having arrived at this point long before, and gestured far off to the starboard side of the current ship; "...You missed one."

With a wince he turned to look back the way he had come, dreading the sight but needing to make sure his father wasn't simply jerking him around. And indeed, there was one ship bobbing away on the open water, fleeing as fast as it could from volley after volley the now ragged pirate fleet was sending after it. The Marines were clearly disciplined, but no amount of training could account for having a fleet destroyed almost entirely by two men.

A light pat on his shoulder pulled him from his dark brooding. "Acheron, relax, one straggler is easily remedied." There was a sudden sharp sound, fingers snapping, which was followed immediately by the fiery detonation of the fleeing Marine frigate. "See? And not a soul left to challenge the two of us." Soft clunks on the gore-slickened deck accompanied his father's continuing speech. "Now, why don't we turn this thing edge on and give that gate a good broadside?"

He felt the need to break in, and did so. "Ah, just so you know I have an inside man to deal with that part. In fact, they should be doing their job any second now…"

He waited, and just when he thought he was going to look like a bigger idiot in front of his Old Man the gates of Mariejois started to open inwards with a mighty creaking of timbers. There was also a large outcry from the top of the wall, and who he assumed to be more Marines started flying off.

Soul Calibur commented, as she often did. "Well, looks like the spoiled princess can actually take care of herself. Who'd have thought?"

Recovering his aplomb with a part of his plan going smoothly, he dashed to the helm and spun the captured frigate towards the opening gates. "It looks like they're rolling out the welcome mat for us. And I'd hate to disappoint them."

Mariejois:

Erasmus Killgore stared straight ahead as Acheron guided their stolen ship inside the port of whatever city this was, taking flaming potshots at the soldiers that were waiting on the ever closer wharf and watching them scatter like kindling in a gale. These men seemed cowards one and all, but then this organization Acheron was focused on destroying might have been banking on the might if their navy to prevent an invasion, such as the one they were mounting right now, from ever happening. Understandable, but not being prepared for the eventuality of a breach was an unforgivable tactical blunder. In short, these political figures that lived in the gaudy castle deserved everything they would get from the disenfranchised brigands that Acheron was leading.

On the topic of his son, he disturbingly detected a certain amount of hostility directed towards him. Acheron hid it well, but he was undeniably furious at his return, the complete opposite of what he had been hoping for. In all honesty though, he hadn't been expecting to return to find a fully adult version of the little boy he had left behind only two years ago. Of course, those two seemed to have been twenty for Acheron. He smiled a little at the name, remembering when Sophitia had picked it out. The irony of course, though he would never broach the topic with her, was in the source of the name. "Acheron" was, at least in Greek myth, which was quite fitting since Sophitia was Greek, the name of a river in the Underworld that the dead crossed first. This river was the river of forgetfulness. So in the birth of her new family, Sophitia was unwittingly trying to forget the old one.

He let out a short sigh as their stolen vessel made contact with the dock, muttering a short wish under his breath. "Dear Sophitia, may the child of your body at least accept you without reservation."

Acheron dashed forward as the rest of the pirate fleet filed through the gates and filled the harbor. "Look, I'm sure I don't need you to raid the place, so why don't you just kick back and watch, alright?"

He could detect the note of challenge in his son's words, the fact that Acheron was all but daring him to say no. "As you wish, Acheron. I'll just walk along in the wake of your forces, after all, I do wish to see you in your moment of triumph."

His words were carefully selected to sound neutral, and to be as supportive as he could manage. But the look on Acheron's face was still a smarmy sneer as the young man flat out sprinted off towards the gathering band of pirates milling at the end of the docks. A raucous yell was all that it took to send the mob, for that's all they really were, off to pillage the town to the ground.

With a melancholy sigh he set off in the wake of the mob, like he had said he would, observing the destruction that they had caused. Truth be told he could find some small admiration for the amount of damage they were causing, especially considering the extremely short amount of time they had had to cause it. Buildings were in ruins; almost as if a giant hand had simply reached down from the heavens and squashed the structures like one would a fly or an ant. Fires raged that bathed the whole scene with a delightfully hellish glow. And white garbed corpses littered his path with equal frequency to dead leaves in the late months of autumn. He paused momentarily, noticing a particular corpse, or maybe not, slumped against the right side of the street, hand seemingly stretching for a flask that lay several inches away from the stretched out fingers of the reaching limb.

He knelt down and turned the body over, recognizing the face immediately as the pirate captain that had commanded the ship Acheron and he had stood upon at the start of this battle. "You, Clayton was it not?"

The pirates gray eyes glittered with an undiminished spark of defiance, despite the line of bloody holes stitched across the man's bare chest. "Aye, that I am." The man looked back and again reached for the fallen flask. "Would ya lend an old brigand a hand here?" After he did so, and Clayton had taken a rather large drink from the foul smelling contents, the wounded pirate started to tell the tale behind the mortal wounds without being asked. "Kind of stupid to be honest, I forgot that with that jackass you call a son around I'm not invincible like I usually am. So I rush out ahead like I usually do…" The dying man gestured to the line of bloody holes with his chin. "And I think you can figure the rest out."

He eyed the puckered edges of the gunshot wounds, his practical mind filing the details away for future use. "Then you blame Acheron for this, your imminent demise?"

The pirate shook his head, seeming to have to struggle a little to complete the gesture. "Nah, I'm the one that ran out in front like an idiot. The guy may be an insufferable ass, but I do have to respect the guy. More than half the crap he's done has saved our asses in ways he couldn't begin to imagine if someone didn't explain it to him." A dry chuckle turned into a hacking cough as the end drew closer. "That, and I can only envy the bastard for his luck with the ladies." Clayton raised his flask as high as his supine form could manage. "Here's to you, you perverse, senseless asshole. May the sea always welcome you with open arms, and may glory follow you ever after."

He nodded once, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "That was well spoken, especially so for a pirate. Though I hope the jab at the stereotype doesn't offend you."

There was no response forthcoming from Clayton, nor would there be. The hand that had held aloft the flask of liquor had fallen down to the side, loosing the now empty container to roll away across the blood soaked flagstones. With a quiet sigh he withdrew two coins from his purse, gold was all he carried, and set them across the eyes of the dead pirate after a light touch closed them. In all likelihood they would be stolen by the next person to walk by, but it was the gesture that mattered. He gathered that Clayton had been nigh indispensible to Acheron making it to this point, and that deserved thanks even if Acheron either didn't realize it or didn't care. Regardless, judging by the especially loud sound of splintering wood that was just now reaching his ears, Acheron had arrived at the castle far ahead, and he wanted to see how this whole affair was going to end.

Mariejois: Castle

Acheron marched forward, although swaggered would probably be more descriptive, at the head of a crowd of riotous brigands that were about to boot the only real authority so hard off of their little hill that they would never recover, and if they did it would only be under his oppressive thumb. Speaking of which he hadn't had to so much as draw Soul Calibur to get all the way here. His rabble of pirate allies had done all of the heavy lifting, and his direct intervention had only been required once to open the castle gate. Over the course of the rampage he had heard plenty of shouts of degradation towards a group of people that were called the "World Nobles," and ultimately they had been painted as the single most hated people in the entire world. He personally had no idea where in hell he was going, but the shouted commentary from his posse and the frightened glances of the scattered servants told him everything he needed to know. Left, right, and then another left brought him to a large set out doors that practically screamed "gaudy noble" to all onlookers.

He hopped forward through the doors, leaving his army to do the breaking, took in the scene of who he assumed to the World Nobles arranged around the room at an elevated level, and his proclamation of victory burst from him like fire from a dragon. "Ladies and gentlemen, you now have the distinct pleasure…" He bowed forward mockingly, a devil's smirk spreading across his face. "…Of surrendering to me immediately."

Soul Calibur threw in her two cents. "Or you can die, your choice." She added quietly to him, "We can kill them right?"

He muttered softly, "Yes we can kill them, if we have to. I'd rather humiliate them a bit first though."

There was an extremely loud crunching sound as the door behind him was smashed open, and a still louder cry of fury as the pirates flooded into the chamber. Were he big on poetry or other sappy things, he might be inclined say something flowery to the flabbergast people arrayed around the room.

He smoothly gestured, with both arms and without turning around, at his posse of troops. "Convinced yet?" He blinked twice, finally noticing an odd feature about the World Nobles and airing the appropriate question. "Ok, probably sounds pretty random, but what the fuck is with the glass bubble-heads?"

A random pirate that he could not see answered. "They think they're better than all of us, that we don't even deserve to breathe the same air."

He rolled his eyes at the absurdity of it, the concept that putting on a glass bubble for a head would separate someone. Where did the damn air come from in the first place that they were breathing on the inside of those things?

With a subtle gesture he opened a portal behind him, taking a step back through and smoothly turning to look at the back of the Nobel he was suddenly behind. "Surprise," he uttered as he snatched the Noble, a woman, by the scruff of the neck.

He dragged his captive forward, towards the edge of the overlook while the other Nobles scattered with various indignant shrieks and cries of terror, before lifting the hostage over the edge. "Now boys, I'd tell you to be gentle, since I'm very sure this prude is extremely fragile, but I'm going to leave that up to all of you. Enjoy!" With a flick of his wrist he tossed the World Noble towards the crowd, jumping down only moments later as the pirates cleared out with their "prize."

He smiled and stretched, meshing his hands together behind his head. For the time being he would let things run their course, let the pirates at large work out whatever grievances they had against the World Government before he stepped in to take over. He had freed them all from this oppressive regime so they would universally respect him, and he could crush devil fruit users with a twitch of his wrist, so they would also universally fear him. It was the ultimate combination for ruling a world, or at least he thought so. If not, well he could always crush an uprising with one fell swoop, if his headlong race against the Old Man was proof of anything.

The voice of that exact person broke in on his private thoughts and caused him to jump. "That was a very, creative choice for humiliating your defeated enemy." His father, Erasmus, emerged from the shadows near the chamber door like one would waltz into a ballroom. "I suppose you have further plans to solidify your grasp on this world?"

He responded honestly, which felt remarkably easy. "Yeah, I guess. I figure I'll give them about a week to cool off after this fiasco before I make my big move for ultimate control. Anyone that doesn't like it can take it up with me then."

The god of Evil nodded only once, in what could be assumed to be approval. "I see. One more thing though, I met a young woman on my way up here going the other way, she expressed a desire to see you before her departure. She had long dark hair, a red gown, and snake earrings. Does that sound familiar?"

He chuckled wickedly, as that description did indeed sound like someone that he knew. "That depends, you're missing one critical detail that'd seal the deal on her identity." A Cheshire cat smile spread across his mouth. "Did you notice how stacked this girl was?"

The glowing red eyes of his father narrowed just slightly, and he spoke with a note of disdain. "My powers of observation are quite intact if that is what you are implying, my boy. And I am also perfectly capable of utilizing this crude lingo you seem enamored with." The god's arms crossed in front of his chest and he leaned forward. "Put in your particular dialect of the common tongue…" There was a pause clearly inserted for dramatic effect; "Stacked enough to envelop a man's head."

He chuckled, turned on his heel, and walked towards the exit while throwing a smartass wave over his shoulder.

His father's voice chased him out of the chamber. "I am proud of you, Acheron. Never forget that."

Mariejois Harbor:

Acheron sauntered down towards the docks and the ship that obviously belonged to Boa Hancock, basking in the afterglow of his victory. The female guards that barred the way parted wordlessly, and with tiny nods, as he boarded and swaggered towards the woman that stood at the bow.

His smooth voice flowed out as he poured on the charm. "Hancock I'm hurt, you almost left without saying goodbye? Shocking!"

The Snake Princess's back went ramrod straight at his first word, and she half-turned to look at him. "N, Nonsense, I sent for you!" It was hard to tell in the dim light of evening, but he suspected Hancock's face was a brilliant shade of red. "W, what game are you playing at?"

He leaned closer, taking special note of how she didn't so much as bat an eyelash at his invasion of her personal space. "Game huh? Well, this game is one I think very much that you want to lose, if you catch my drift."

Boa Hancock started to say something, but it was drowned out in a startled gasp as he snatched the woman around her slender waist and dragged her against him, locking mouths together and probing the inside of hers with his tongue. It took a moment, but within the space of about five heartbeats the Empress of Amazon Lilly was mewling like a kitten and getting, quite literally, tongue-tied. His persistent groping of her ass could only have helped matters.

He broke their lip to lip contact, against the very obvious sound of disapproval Hancock made. "Look girl, I'm sure you have a very nice bed right in the cabin. Why don't you go and get ready, I'll be down in just a second."

Looking incredibly flustered, Hancock nonetheless did as he had suggested and shuffled off towards the cabin. She was muttering something furiously, but he couldn't quite make it out.

The moment he heard the door click shut he rounded on the ship's crew, all of them predictably female. "Well, what are you all waiting for? Shove off!" He turned towards the bow and pointed off towards the setting sun dramatically. "Give me that horizon!"

He stood there, pride swelling inside his chest, until the ship cleared the harbor of Mariejois before turning smartly on his heel and heading for the cabin.