The morning light filters gently through the porthole of Shanks's cabin, casting a warm glow over the room. Shanks groans as he stirs, his head throbbing with a dull ache. He blinks slowly, the events of the previous night flooding back to him—the mist, Marya's glowing eyes, the surge of his Haki as he fought to pull her back from the brink. He tries to sit up, but a firm, authoritative hand on his shoulder stops him.
"Not so fast," Hongo says calmly. The ship's doctor stands beside the bed, scanning Shanks for any signs of lingering weakness. "You pushed yourself too hard last night. Your Haki was completely drained. Lucky for you, I'm the best damn doctor on the seas, or you might not have woken up at all."
Shanks chuckles weakly, wincing as the movement sends a fresh wave of pain through his head. "Thanks, Hongo. I owe you one."
"You owe me more than one," Hongo mutters, shaking his head. "But you're fine. Just take it easy for a few days. No Haki, no fighting, no heroics. Got it?"
Shanks gives him a lazy grin. "No promises."
Before Hongo can respond, the cabin door swings open, and Benn Beckman strides in. His usual calm, collected demeanor is nowhere to be seen. Instead, his narrowed eyes are blazing with anger, and his jaw is clenched so tightly it looks like it might crack.
"You," Benn says, pointing a finger at Shanks, "are the most reckless, irresponsible, stubborn idiot I've ever met."
Shanks blinks, caught off guard by the intensity of Benn's tone. "Good morning to you too, Benn."
"Don't 'good morning' me," Benn snaps, crossing the room in three long strides. "Do you have any idea what you put us through last night? You drained yourself to the point of collapse, and for what? To play the hero?"
Shanks's grin falters, and he sits up a little straighter, wincing as the movement sends a fresh wave of pain through his head. "I wasn't playing the hero, Benn. Marya needed help. I couldn't just stand by and do nothing."
"Marya's not even part of the crew," Benn retorts, his voice rising. "She's—"
"She's family," Shanks interrupts, meeting his gaze. "Maybe not by blood or by crew, but she's one of us. You know that as well as I do."
Benn takes a breath, but the anger in his eyes doesn't fade. "I know she's family. And I know you care about her. But you're not here just for her, Shanks. You're our captain. And if something happens to you, it's not just you who pays the price. It's all of us."
The room falls silent, the weight of Benn's words hanging in the air. Shanks looks down at his hands, his confidence tempered by the moment's gravity. He knows Benn is right. But that doesn't make it any easier to stand by when someone he cares about is in danger.
"I'm sorry," Shanks finally says, sincerely, as he breaks his gaze. "I didn't mean to scare you. Any of you."
Benn sighs, running a hand over his face. "You're impossible, you know that?"
Shanks grins, the familiar spark of mischief returning. "Yeah, but you love me anyway."
Benn rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Don't push your luck, Captain."
Hongo, who's been quietly observing the exchange, clears his throat. "As touching as this is, Shanks still needs rest. So unless you're here to tuck him in, Benn, I suggest you let him recover."
Benn shoots Hongo a cool glare. "Fine. But if I catch you out of bed before Hongo says it's okay, you're answering to me. Got it?"
Shanks salutes lazily. "Aye, aye, First Mate."
Benn shakes his head, muttering something under his breath as he turns to leave. But before he steps out the door, he pauses and looks back at Shanks, his brow furrowed. "Just… take care of yourself, okay? We need you. All of us."
Shanks nods, his grin fading into something softer, more genuine. "I will. Promise."
As Benn leaves, Shanks turns to Hongo. "How's the crew? And Marya?"
Hongo sighs, setting down the medical kit he's been holding. "The crew's fine. A little shaken, but fine. Marya's still sleeping. Her injuries weren't as severe as yours, but she's been through a lot. I was just about to check on her and change her bandages."
Shanks swings his legs over the side of the bed, ignoring the way the room spins slightly. "I'll come with you."
Hongo raises an eyebrow. "Did you not hear the part where I said you need rest?"
"I heard it," Shanks says, standing slowly and steadying himself with a hand on the wall. "But I need to see her. She's family, Hongo. I'm not going to sit here while she's hurting."
Hongo studies him for a moment, then sighs. "You're as stubborn as they come, you know that?"
Shanks grins. "So I've been told."
Hongo shakes his head but doesn't argue further. He grabs his medical kit and gestures for Shanks to follow. "Fine. But if you collapse, don't say I didn't warn you."
The two of them make their way to the infirmary, where Marya lies on a cot, her breathing slow and steady. Her raven hair is fanned out around her, and her face is pale but peaceful. The bandages around her torso and arms are slightly bloodied, evidence of the wounds she sustained during her rampage.
Hongo sets his kit down and begins preparing fresh bandages while Shanks stands by the cot, his expression softening as he looks at her. "How's she doing?" he asks quietly.
"She's stable," Hongo replies in his most professional tone. "The mist's hold on her is broken, but she's exhausted—physically and emotionally. She'll need time to recover."
Shanks nods, his eyes never leaving Marya's face. "She's strong. She'll pull through."
Hongo glances at him, a hint of a smile on his face. "She's not the only one who needs to recover, you know."
Shanks chuckles softly. "I'll be fine. I've been through worse."
Hongo shakes his head but doesn't argue. As he begins applying fresh bandages, Marya stirs. Her brow furrows, and her golden eyes flutter open, blinking against the dim light of the infirmary. She looks around, confused and disoriented. Her gaze lands on Hongo, and she frowns, trying to place his face.
"Hongo…?" she murmurs hoarsely, barely above a whisper.
Hongo looks up, his focused eyes relaxing as he meets her gaze. "Hey there," he says reassuringly. "Welcome back. How are you feeling?"
Marya blinks, her confusion deepening. "What… what are you doing here? Where am I?"
Hongo finishes securing the bandage and steps back, giving her a small smile. "You're on the Red Force. Shanks's ship. You've been through a lot, but you're safe now." Marya's eyes widen, and she tries to sit up, wincing as the movement pulls at her wounds. Hongo gently places a hand on her shoulder to stop her. "Easy there. You're still healing. Take it slow."
Before Marya can respond, Shanks comes into view, his presence filling her vision. His crimson hair catches the warm light, and his brow is creased with concern. "Hey, Marya," the tension in his shoulders fades. "Good to see you awake."
Marya's gaze shifts to Shanks, and her confusion only grows. "Shanks? What… what are you doing here? Why am I on your ship?"
Shanks exchanges a glance with Hongo before looking back at Marya. "You don't remember?"
Marya shakes her head slowly, her golden eyes filled with uncertainty. "I remember… we were sparring. I was starting to figure something out… and then nothing. Just darkness." She pauses, her brow wrinkling as she tries to piece together the fragments of her memory. "What happened? Why am I here?"
Shanks pulls up a chair beside the cot and sits down, exhaling deeply. "You were a danger to yourself and everyone around you," Shanks says, his jaw flexing. "You hurt people, Marya."
The words hit her like a physical blow. Her breath catches in her throat. She stares at Shanks, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief. "I… I hurt people?" she repeats, barely above a whisper.
Shanks nodded, watching her reaction in compassion but not pity. "You did. But it wasn't you, Marya. It was the mist. The power of your Devil Fruit took over. You weren't in control."
Marya looks down at her hands, her fingers trembling slightly as she processes his words. The weight of what she's done—what the mist did through her—settles over her like a suffocating blanket. Her chest tightens, and for a moment, she feels like she can't breathe. But she doesn't cry. She doesn't let herself. Instead, she clenches her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she fights to keep her emotions in check.
"Who did I hurt?" she strains to ask in a low voice. "How bad was it?"
Shanks hesitates, his gaze flickering to Hongo before returning to Marya. "You injured some of the Guardians and a few of my crew. Nothing life-threatening, but… it was close. You were powerful, Marya. More powerful than anyone realized."
Marya's jaw tightens, and she looks away, her golden eyes clouded with remorse. She doesn't speak for a long moment, her mind racing as she tries to reconcile the image of herself—someone who has fought to protect others—with the reality of what she's done. The guilt is a heavy, gnawing thing in her chest, and it threatens to consume her.
"I didn't want this," she says finally, barely audible. "I never wanted this power. I never wanted to hurt anyone."
Shanks leans forward, bracing his elbow on his knees. "I know you didn't. And no one blames you for what happened. But you can't let this define you, Marya, don't be a victim. You're stronger than this. You've always been stronger."
Marya's hands clench tighter, her knuckles turning white. "How can you say that? How can you act like it's that simple? I hurt people, Shanks. People who trusted me. People who cared about me. And I don't even remember doing it." Her voice cracks slightly, but she won't let herself shed tears. Instead, she takes a deep, shuddering breath, forcing herself to stay composed.
Shanks watches her, his chair groaning as he leans back. "It's not simple," he says, resting his chin on a bent elbow. "But it's not the end, either. You've been given a chance, Marya. A chance to make things right. And you're not alone."
Hongo, who's been quietly observing the exchange, speaks up. "You've been through a lot," he says in a calm, matter-of-fact tone. "And you're going to need time to process everything. But beating yourself up won't help anyone. Least of all you."
Shanks rests his ankle on a knee. "Marya, you need to be brave. You can't be ruled by what happened. Don't let it define you as a person. This power, this mist, it's a part of you, but it's not all of you. You have the strength to control it, to turn it into something good."
Marya looks away with a sense of doubtful hope, her breath catching as she absorbs his words. Shanks continues, "You've always had a kind heart and a fierce spirit. Those are the things that define you, not this incident or the power of the mist."
Hongo takes her arm, applying a clean bandage. "Shanks is right. Your actions moving forward are what matters. Learn from this and grow stronger."
A quiet resolve begins to settle in Marya's chest. She unclenches her fists, letting her fingers relax as she meets Shanks's steady gaze. Lips pursed, she nods, considering everything he said. Shanks smiles, a warm, reassuring smile that reaches his eyes.
After a long moment, Marya takes a deep breath, her eyes flickering between Shanks and Hongo. She breaks the silence, "So… when can I leave?" she asks, knowing how doctors like to hold their patients hostage.
Hongo raises an eyebrow and responds with a smirk, "Oh, you know, as soon as you've totally mastered your mysterious powers, resolved your inner turmoil, and saved the world a couple of times. Should be any day now."
Marya rolls her eyes, a wry smile tugging at her lips despite herself. "Thanks, Hongo. Really helpful."
Shanks chuckles softly, shaking his head at the exchange. "You know," Shanks takes advantage of the change in mood, "I just realized I never asked how you ended up here. Last I heard, you and Mihawk were still on Kuraigana Island. What brought you all the way out here?"
Marya looks at him, her golden eyes narrowing slightly as if she's trying to decide how much to share. After a moment, she sighs and leans back against the pillows. "The last time I visited my mother's grave, I found an Eternal Pose among her things," she says, sliding a rebel stand of hair behind her ear. "It led me here."
Shanks raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "An Eternal Pose? To this island? That's… specific. Did your mother leave it for you?"
Marya shakes her head. "No. It was just… there among her old belongings. I didn't even know she had it until I started going through her stuff. I didn't have anywhere else to go, so I followed it."
Shanks nods slowly, his lips pursed. "And Mihawk? I thought you two were… I don't know, partners in crime or something. What happened there?"
Marya rolls her eyes, a flicker of irritation crossing her face. "We had a disagreement about him becoming a Warlord. I didn't agree with it, and he didn't appreciate my opinion. So I left."
Shanks chuckles softly, red hair waving as he shakes his head. "Sounds like Mihawk. Always doing things his way, no matter what anyone else thinks."
Marya's lips twitch into a faint smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "Yeah, well, it's his life. He can do what he wants. But I didn't want to be a part of it."
Shanks studies her for a moment, his brow pinching. "So, this island… I'm guessing your mother was from here? Is that why she had the Eternal Pose?"
Marya hesitates, her gaze drifting to the porthole as if lost in thought. "No," she says finally. "Neither of my parents were from this island. But… this is where they met. Sort of."
Shanks leans forward, his interest clearly piqued. "Sort of? What does that mean?"
Marya sighs, tilting her head, her eyes growing distant. "It's a long story. My mother was an academic—an archaeologist. She didn't really have a home, not in the traditional sense. She was… well, breaking the law, that whole don't study ancient history thing. Then it was your typical boy-meets-girl-while-girl-is-breaking-the-law scenario. Boy saves girl, boy falls in love with girl, and… well, you can figure out the rest."
Shanks grins, the anxiety leaving his posture. "Sounds like quite the love story. Your father always did have a flair for the dramatic."
Marya's lips twitch into a faint smile, but there's a hint of sadness in her eyes. "Yeah, well, it didn't last. A lot happened. But I guess this place meant something to her. Enough to keep an Eternal Pose to it, at least."
Shanks nods, exhaling a long breath. "Sounds like there's more to it than that."
Marya looks at him, slouching against the pillows. "There is. But it's not a story I'm ready to tell. Not yet."
Shanks holds her gaze for a moment, then leans back in his chair, his usual easygoing smile returning. "Fair enough. Everyone's got their secrets. But if you ever want to talk, you know where to find me."
The infirmary door creaks open, and Benn Beckman strides in, his head swiveling to meet everyone's gaze. His presence immediately shifts the atmosphere, his strong posture cutting through the quiet like a blade. He's holding a clipboard in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other, the faint scent of tobacco trailing behind him.
"Shanks," Benn says, a stream of smoke wafting in the air. "The engineers are here for the ship upgrades. They're waiting on the dock."
Shanks, who's been leaning back in his chair beside Marya's cot, grins lazily. "Already? Those guys work fast. Alright, I'm on my way."
Benn's eyes narrow, and he takes a long drag from his cigarette before exhaling a plume of smoke. "You're not going anywhere. Hongo just patched you up, and you're supposed to be resting. Let someone else handle it."
Shanks waves a hand dismissively, his grin widening. "I'm fine, Benn. A little Haki drain never killed anyone."
Benn's jaw flexes, and he steps closer. His low voice is edged with irritation. "You're not invincible, Shanks. One of these days, your luck's going to run out, and I'm not going to be the one explaining to the crew why their captain collapsed on the deck because he couldn't sit still for five minutes."
Shanks chuckles, clearly unfazed by Benn's scolding. "Relax, Benn. I'll take it easy. Promise."
Benn rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like "stubborn idiot," before his gaze shifts to Marya. His irritated scowl softens slightly as he takes in her pale face and bandaged arms. "You look terrible," he says bluntly.
Marya raises an eyebrow, her golden eyes glinting with defiant amusement. "Thanks, Benn. You always know how to make a girl feel special."
Benn smirks, taking another drag from his cigarette. "At least you're not trying to kill anyone. That's an improvement."
Marya's lips twitch into a faint smile, but there's a flicker of guilt in her eyes. "Yeah, well, I'm working on it. Speaking of which, I'm coming too."
Hongo, who's been quietly organizing his medical supplies, immediately straightens, lips tight. "Absolutely not. You're in no condition to be walking around. You need rest."
Marya crosses her arms, cocking her head. "I've been resting all morning. I'm fine."
Hongo's eyes narrow, and he points a finger at her, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You are not fine. You were possessed by a malevolent mist less than twenty-four hours ago, and you're still recovering from multiple injuries. You're staying put."
Marya glares at him, her golden eyes flashing with irritation. "I'm not a child, Hongo. I can handle myself."
Hongo glares right back. Brow furrowed in rare exasperation. "You're acting like one. You're not invincible, Marya. You need to rest."
Benn watches the exchange with mild amusement, his cigarette dangling from his lips. "Looks like you've got your hands full, Hongo."
Hongo sighs, running a hand through his hair. "No one ever listens to me. I swear, it's like herding cats with this crew."
Shanks, who's been watching the back-and-forth with a grin, finally interjects. "Alright, alright. Let's not start a war in the infirmary. Marya, you can come, but you're staying on the ship. No running around on the docks. Deal?"
Marya hesitates, then nods reluctantly. "Fine. But I'm not staying in this infirmary any longer."
Hongo throws up his hands in exasperation. "I give up. Do whatever you want. But don't come crying to me when you collapse from exhaustion."
Marya smirks, her golden eyes glinting with mischief. "Don't worry, Hongo. I'll make sure to collapse somewhere you can't see me."
Hongo mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like "ungrateful brats," but he doesn't argue further. Instead, he grabs his medical kit and starts packing up, clearly resigned to the fact that this is a losing battle.
Benn shakes his head, a faint smirk on his face. "You're all impossible. Let's get this over with before someone else decides to do something reckless."
Shanks grins, clapping Benn on the shoulder as he heads for the door. "That's the spirit, Benn. Always looking on the bright side."
Benn rolls his eyes but doesn't respond, instead following Shanks out of the infirmary. Marya slowly gets to her feet, wincing slightly as her injuries protest the movement. Hongo watches her shaking his head in exasperation, but it doesn't stop her. Instead, he hands her a small vial of painkillers.
"Take these," he says, plopping the vial into her palm. "And if you start feeling dizzy or lightheaded, sit down. Immediately."
Marya takes the vial, her posture softening. "Thanks, Hongo. I mean it."
Hongo sighs, his stern demeanor cracking just enough to reveal a hint of a smile. "Just don't make me regret it."
As Marya follows Shanks and Benn out of the infirmary, Hongo watches them go, shaking his head. "Why do I bother?" he mutters again, but a fondness in his voice betrays his true feelings.
The docks are alive with the hum of activity as the engineering team sets up their workstations, tools clattering, and voices overlapping in a symphony of preparation. Among the chaos, Bianca and Zola stand out. When they spot Marya approaching with Shanks and Benn, their faces light up with excitement and relief. Bianca is the first to rush over, her hands still stained with grease from whatever project she's been tinkering with. "Marya! Oh my gosh, like, we were so worried about you! Are you, like, okay? You look, like, way better than I thought you would, but still, like, not great, you know?"
Zola follows close behind, her head tilted as she curiously inspects Marya with concern. She points a precise finger in the air as she speaks. "We heard about what happened. It's a relief to see you standing. How are you feeling?"
Marya smiles, though it's tinged with guilt. "I'm… okay. Thanks, you two. I'm sorry for everything that happened. I didn't mean to—"
Bianca cuts her off with a wave of her hand. "Don't even, like, apologize. It wasn't you. We, like, know that. And we're just, like, super glad you're, like, okay."
Zola nods, her finger still raised as if she's about to make another point. "Indeed. The mist was the culprit, not you. However…" She grows somber, and she lowers her hand, her tone softening. "There's something you should know. Riggs, Celeste, and Jax… they're not faring well."
Marya's smile fades, replaced by a look of worry. "What happened? Are they okay?"
Bianca sighs, fixing her gaze on the floor. "Riggs, like, took the worst of it. He's, like, got a broken arm and, like, a couple of cracked ribs. Celeste is, like, struggling with her feelings, and Jax… well, he's Jax. He's, like, trying to act like he's fine, but he's got, like, a nasty gash on his side that's going to take a while to heal."
Marya's chest tightens, the guilt she's been fighting bubbling back to the surface. "I did that," she says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I hurt them."
Zola steps forward, her finger raised again as if to emphasize her point. "It wasn't you, Marya. It was the mist. And they know that. They're not blaming you."
Bianca nods, her brow creased. "They're, like, really tough. They'll, like, pull through. But… they'd probably appreciate, like, a visit from you. Especially, like, Riggs. He's been, like, asking about you."
Marya looks down at her hands, her mind racing. She knows she needs to face them to apologize, but the thought of seeing the damage she caused is almost too much to bear. Still, she knows she can't run from this. She owes them that much.
"I'll visit them," she says finally, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. "As soon as I can."
Bianca and Zola exchange a glance with softer eyes. "We'll, like, let them know you're coming," Bianca says gently. "It'll, like, mean a lot to them."
Zola nods, her finger raised again as she speaks. "And if you require anything, do not hesitate to inform us. We're here to assist you, Marya."
Marya's lips twitch into a faint smile, her gratitude evident. "Thanks, you two. I don't deserve it, but… thank you."
Bianca waves a hand dismissively. "Don't, like, start with that. You're, like, one of us, Marya. We, like, take care of our own."
Zola grins, her usual cheerfulness returning. "Indeed. Furthermore, you're the only one who can keep Riggs in line. We require your presence back in action."
Marya chuckles softly, the tension in her chest easing slightly. "I'll do my best."
As the conversation lulls, Marya glances at the crates and equipment scattered across the dock. "So, what are you two working on? It looks like you've got a lot going on."
Bianca's eyes light up, her enthusiasm returning full force. "Oh my gosh, like, it's so cool! The island is, like, officially under Shanks's flag now, so we're, like, upgrading his navigation and transportation systems. It's, like, a huge project, but it's, like, going to be amazing when it's done."
Zola raises a confident finger. "Indeed. We're implementing state-of-the-art technology to enhance the ship's efficiency and maneuverability. It's a complex endeavor, but one that will undoubtedly yield significant benefits."
Marya raises an eyebrow, impressed. "That sounds… like a lot."
Bianca grins, standing tall. "Like, obviously. We're, like, the best at what we do."
Zola nods, pink hair waving, her finger still raised. "Precisely. And with our combined expertise, this project will be a resounding success."
Marya smiles in amusement. "I have no doubt. Just… try not to blow anything up, okay?"
Bianca gives a cheerful, carefree laugh. "No promises! But, like, we'll try."
Zola smirks, her finger finally lowering. "We'll exercise caution. To the best of our ability, at least."
The docks are alive with activity as the Red-Haired Pirates spill onto the scene, their boisterous laughter and playful banter cutting through the hum of the engineering team's work. Marya stands near Shanks, as she processes the news that the island is now under his flag. She turns to him, "You… you're claiming this island?" she asks with a twinge of awe. "Why?"
Shanks grins, his crimson hair catching the light as he shrugs casually. "Why not? This place has spirit. And besides, it's got some pretty important people on it." He gives her a pointed look. "You're not the only one who cares about this island, Marya. We're all in this together, now."
Before Marya can respond, the rest of the crew descends upon her, their energy infectious and their teasing relentless. Lucky Roux is the first to reach her, his massive round frame and ever-present drumstick. "Marya!" he booms, his voice carrying over the noise of the docks. "Look at you! Last time we saw you, you were still tripping over your own feet trying to practice sword swings. And now… well, you're not half bad!"
Marya rolls her eyes, but there's a hint of a smile on her lips. "Thanks, Lucky. I think."
Yasopp shifts his weight, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Not half bad? She's Mihawk's daughter! She's got to be at least three-quarters bad by default."
The crew erupts into laughter, and Marya crosses her arms, her golden eyes narrowing playfully. "Careful, Yasopp. I might not be as good as my father, but I'm still better than you."
Yasopp clutches his chest dramatically, feigning hurt. "Ouch! That's cold, Marya. And here I thought we were friends."
Benn Beckman, blowing out a plume of smoke, adds with a smirk. "Don't let her fool you, Yasopp. She's still got a long way to go before she's anywhere near Mihawk's level."
Marya glares at him with a side-eye. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Benn."
Benn shrugs, his cigarette dangling from his lips. "Just calling it like I see it."
Limejuice, leaning against a crate, tosses his long hair over his shoulder and chimes in. "Hey, give her some credit. She's come a long way since the last time we saw her. Remember when she couldn't even hold a sword without dropping it?"
Marya groans, her cheeks flushing slightly. "I was ten!"
The crew laughs again, and even Shanks joins in, his deep chuckle resonating through the group. "Alright, alright," he says, holding up a hand to quiet them. "Give her a break. She's been through enough without you all ragging on her."
Marya shoots him a grateful look, but the crew isn't done yet. Bonk Punch, ever the instigator, grins. "Yeah, but seriously, Marya. You've got to admit, it's kind of funny. Mihawk's daughter, struggling with basic sword stances. And now look at you—taking on the entire crew single-handedly. Well, when you're not, you know, possessed by a malevolent mist."
Marya glares at him, but there's a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Thanks for the reminder, Bonk. Really appreciate it."
The deck is alive with laughter and playful banter as the crew teases Marya, their voices carrying over the sound of the waves and the creak of the ship's timbers. Marya is holding her own, her golden eyes glinting with amusement as she fires back at their jabs, but the moment Vaughn steps onto the deck, the atmosphere shifts slightly.
The crew notices him immediately, their teasing quieting down as they nod in his direction. Vaughn gives them a small, easygoing smile, but his eyes are fixed on Marya. Relief washes over his face as he sees her standing there, alive and well, despite the bandages and the lingering shadows under her eyes.
"Marya," he says warmly, his baritone voice carrying a note of authority. "Good to see you up and about. You had us worried for a while there."
Marya turns to him, her playful smirk softening into a genuine smile. "Hey, Vaughn. I'm harder to take down than I look."
Vaughn chuckles, shaking his head with a smirk. "Yeah, well, next time, try not to give us all heart attacks, okay?" He steps closer, his tone becoming more serious. "We need to talk. Come with me."
Marya raises an eyebrow but doesn't argue. She follows Vaughn as he leads her off the ship, the crew's playful banter fading into the background. As they step onto the dock, the salty sea breeze tousles their hair, and the sound of the waves lapping against the hull fills the air.
Vaughn stops a short distance away, turning to face her. Taking a breath; his dark eyes scanned her face as if assessing her readiness for what he was about to say. "We've got our next assignment," he begins, his voice steady. "We leave for Alabasta tomorrow."
Marya blinks, surprised. "Alabasta? That's… not exactly close."
Vaughn crosses his arms matter-of-factly. "We've lost contact with a research team stationed there. They were supposed to check in a week ago, but we haven't heard from them since. We're being sent to investigate."
Marya's brow furrows, her golden eyes narrowing with concern. "Lost contact? That doesn't sound good. Do we know what they were researching?"
Vaughn shakes his head. "Not much. They were studying some ancient ruins in the desert, but the details are sketchy. It's probably nothing too serious—could just be a communication breakdown or equipment failure—but we need to go and check it out. Better safe than sorry."
Marya nods thoughtfully. "Makes sense. But why us? Couldn't someone less injured handle it?"
Vaughn smirks, a hint of his usual arrogance showing through. "Because we're the best. And because if it is something serious, we're the ones who can handle it." He pauses, his tone softening. "But honestly, it shouldn't be too taxing. We'll go in, find out what's going on, and get out. Simple."
Marya crosses her arms, her golden eyes glinting with skepticism. "Simple, huh?"
Vaughn chuckles, his deep voice warm with amusement. "Fair point. But still, it's not like we're walking into a warzone. Probably."
Marya groans, but there's no real annoyance in it. "Great."
Vaughn's head tilts and places a hand on her shoulder, his grip firm but reassuring. "You up for this, Marya? I know you've been through a lot. If you need more time to recover, say the word."
Marya straightens, her golden eyes narrowing with determination. "I'm fine, Vaughn. I'm not sitting this one out."
Vaughn studies her for a moment, his gaze searching. Then he nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Good. I was hoping you'd say that. But if you start feeling off—if the mist even hints at coming back—you tell me. Understood?"
As they stand there, the sound of the crew's laughter and the hum of the engineering team's work filling the air, Vaughn's expression grows thoughtful. "You know," he says, his tone lighter now, "Harper's been asking about you. He'll be glad to hear you're doing better."
Marya's smile softens at the mention of Vaughn's fiancé. "Tell him I said hi. And that I owe him a drink for putting up with you."
Vaughn chuckles, his deep voice warm with amusement. "I'll let him know." Vaughn's posture relaxes, and he gives her shoulder a final squeeze before stepping back. "Get some rest, Marya. Tomorrow's going to be a long day."
The morning sun cast a blushing glow over the island, its light reflecting off the tranquil waves that lapped in the secluded harbor. The crew members of the Red Force bustled about, some tending to repairs, others lounging on the deck, their laughter and chatter filling the air. Shanks stood at the edge of the dock as he watched Marya approach with a reluctant smirk. Vaughn and Charlie were nearby, readying the submarine. They were prepared to depart, but Marya had one last thing to do.
Shanks grinned as she approached. "Heading out already?" He asks with a light, warm tone. "You're not even going to stay for breakfast?"
Marya's lips twitched in a small smile, though her eyes reflected a flicker of sadness. "We don't have time. It's pretty urgent, and we need to move quickly."
Shanks nodded, lips tight. "I get it."
Yasopp, who had been lounging on the deck of the Red Force, called out, his tone teasing. "Don't forget to bring back some souvenirs! I hear the food on any mainland is amazing."
Lucky Roux, his mouth full of meat, nodded enthusiastically. "And sweets! Don't forget the sweets!"
Marya rolled her eyes, though her smile widened slightly. "What are you talking about? You won't even be here when we get back."
Benn Beckman, bent over the railing with a cigarette between his fingers. "Take care of yourself, Marya. And don't hesitate to call if you need backup."
Marya nodded with a flicker of gratitude. "I will. Thank you, Benn."
As the crew continued to tease and joke, Shanks stepped closer to Marya, his expression softening. "You've got this, Marya. Just remember—what we talked about. Don't let it define who you are."
Marya met his gaze, resolve resonating in her eyes. "I know. I will do my best." Her shoulders relaxed, and her lips curved into a small smile, "Shanks... thank you. For everything."
Shanks nodded, his expression warm. "Anytime, Marya. Safe travels." As Marya turned to join Vaughn and Charlie, the crew of the Red Force called out their goodbyes, their voices blending with the sound of the waves.