Chapter 4: Crucix Arc- Chapters 16-24 2/2

I have no idea where half the shit we've pulled out was packed in our holds. Jack probably knew, and whoever he had pack it all up, but hey, it wasn't my job to know. But the beach looks like a giant picnic, folding tables and chairs scattered all over the place, the more perishable foods all over the place, the crew going through alcohol like a mower through grass…

"Oh whiskey is the life of man

Whiskey from an old tin can

Whiskey-o, Johnny-o

Rise her up from down below

Whiskey, whiskey, whiskey-o

Up aloft this yard must go

John rise her up from down below."

The chance of a Marine attack, or the nutjobs following us, or anything else...doesn't matter.

Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die.

"Now whiskey made me pawn me clothes

And whiskey gave me a broken nose

Whiskey-o, Johnny-o

Rise her up from down below

Whiskey, whiskey, whiskey-o

Up aloft this yard must go

John rise her up from down below."

I wish I could say I knew exactly when they started to trickle in, but I never really noticed. They just...arrived. People in battered and tattered clothes, worn down, many of them thin with hunger, children and adults and male and female. Most unwashed and unkempt, flinching at contact, on edge like rabbits.

They bleed in around the crew, and the crew takes them in without a reaction.

"I thought I heard the old man say

I treat me crew in a decent way

Whiskey-o, Johnny-o

Rise her up from down below

Whiskey, whiskey, whiskey-o

Up aloft this yard must go

John rise her up from down below."

I'm pretty sure I see some of them weeping, even as I catch the eye of the Marines, hanging at the edges of the ongoing party. Not happy, but letting it happen. Not like they could stop us, heh. I grin, and nod to them.

"I treat me crew in a decent way

Give them whiskey twice a day

Whiskey-o, Johnny-o

Rise her up from down below

Whiskey, whiskey, whiskey-o

Up aloft this yard must go

John rise her up from down below."

How many are there? A hundred, at least. Fewer than there should be. Vinci looks me in the eye, and jerks his head to the side before talking to an elderly man who had probably been stout at some point. I get it. Finish up.

"A glass of whiskey all around

And a bottle full for the shanty man

Whiskey-o, Johnny-o

Rise her up from down below

Whiskey, whiskey, whiskey-o

Up aloft this yard must go

John rise her up from down below…"

I set down my guitar, and nod to Bowes. "Keep it going, I've got to talk to the captain."

The man gives me a grin, and starts up the familiar tune of Bink's Brew on his violin.

Navigating the press of bodies is easier than I expected. The crew gives me space due to rank, and the survivors...well, someone topping six foot in a mask is intimidating enough, and the whispers following me indicate I've got a...reputation.

Heh, suppose it was inevitable.

Either way, I reach Vinci quick enough, to find that Jack- sans apron- and Herman have done so as well. Huh. Between the two of them and the bird's nest of bushy white on the old man, I'm getting beard envy.

Focus, Kaneki.

"What's the trouble, Captain?"

Vinci stares at the old man, ignoring my question. "All right, we're here. Now start explaining."

The ship that was slowly coming into harbor looked like a wreck- no, it was a wreck, barely floating, sails torn, and with gaping holes scattered like hungry, splinter-toothed maws all across the hull. As he watched, one of the mizzen masts cracked and began to slowly lean to the side drunkenly, pulling scaffolding and stays with it before finally falling back across the behemoth's deck with a exhausted thud.

Kirill Garcetti simply watched.

The ship seemed abandoned, but...no, it had made its way into harbor, and he knew the vessel even if the symbol of the cross was no longer present on its tattered sails.

Machitus.

The priest was a good man. Had been a good man, more like, it was doubtful he'd survived with his ship like that. A pity. Garcetti hadn't attended the man's sermons often, but a large portion of the town had loved the man. Wasn't hard to see why- a man of God who preached that everyone could secure a place in Heaven by the sweat of their brow was bound to be loved by a town that made most of its money off selling the results of said sweat.

Thundering footsteps behind him announced the arrival of Knight-Commander Reuel, the leader of the thirty or so knights who guarded the church and the town. The man was a powerful fighter, and for all the mayor's misgivings about the church having so much power, it paled in comparison to the thought of having to deal with the less scrupulous pirate crews without their assistance. Most pirates didn't want to start trouble, but there were always a few who thought they could take the place over.

"Commander."

"Mayor."

"You are higher up than I am. Can you see anything?"

The knight shaded his eyes, squinting at the vessel. "I believe…"

SLAM! "MY CHILDREN! I I HAVE RETURNED!"

"...yes."

The Commander vanished down the docks, taking long strides, and Garcetti watched as the bulky figure of the priest- who looked far healthier than since he'd left on his voyage several months ago- met him on the gangplank that had been tossed down from the decrepit ship. The men clasped arms, and Machitus grinned.

Garcetti decided to leave the two to their reunion.

….

"What do you mean no entrance! He's back, we want to see him!"

"No entrance means no entrance," the knight said flatly, ignoring the growing crowd. "The father has asked to not be disturbed."

"But why? Look, we just want to use the church. We've been doing it while he's been gone, and we just..."

"No visitors."

"Uh-huh. And what about when the mayor comes asking about the stuff you've moved off the ship?"

"No visi-"

"What 'stuff' would that be?" Garcetti inquired mildly, having been standing there for the past five minutes.

An old man had to have his hobbies, and one of his personal favorites was approaching someone silently, especially when it was some sort of commotion. The faces they made as they questioned just how long he'd been standing there warmed his curmudgeony old heart.

"U-uh…"

"Well?"

"They...moved a bunch of crates and stuff off the ship. The night before we burned it."

"Hmmm? And nobody thought to tell me?" Garcetti asked genially. "Well, good sir, what was in those crates?"

The knight began to sweat, visible even with the face-concealing helm he wore. "I can't-"

The gates of the church creaked open, and all conversation stopped.

Machitus looked...battered. His nose had clearly been broken, flattened against his face, and a few faint bruises were still present on his features. But the priest still smiled. "My children, there is no need for this conflict."

"Father Machitus!"

"What happened? Your face-"

"Your ship-"

"Your men-"

Machitus raised his hands, and the crowd quieted.

"My children. My voyage- my pilgrimage- was a thing of wonder and terror. I left you, swearing to return when I found the truth of things...and though the travails and trials I encountered were terrible indeed, and claimed the lives of my faithful companions...I kept my faith. For that, I was rewarded with a revelation, with truth."

"A revelation?"

"Tell us!"

Machitus shook his head slowly, frowning. "It is not ready, my children. The Lord gives us many miracles, and this...the mortal mind struggles to understand it. I am deciphering and contemplating it, but regrettably I must remain undisturbed." The priest's gaze was sorrowful. "I am sorry to delay our reunion so long, my children, but rest assured, when I fully understand the wisdom the Lord has imparted with me, I shall share it with all of you."

"And what did he share? Fire, and death, and miracles, aye, horrible things. Half the damn town crowded around for his 'revelation', whatever it was, and they went as crazy as him," Garcetti finished. "Tossing whoever they could catch onto the pyres, yelling like madmen. Those of us who made it out...well, it's been a long two weeks. So...thank you, for this."

Vinci nodded, taking in the information. "It isn't any trouble," he said with a shrug.

The mayor's story told him plenty. More than he'd wanted to know, maybe, but still…

Vinci caught the eye of one of the Marines, and gestured for the man to approach. The whitecoat was clearly reluctant, but he did it anyway.

"What the hell you want, pirate?"

"We saw your ship on the way in. Burned to the waterline. How'd that happen?"

The distress call his ship had picked up- barely, the signal so degraded no real detail could be made out- worried Higgs. Crucix may have done trade with pirates and rogues at times, but that was inevitable for every island that didn't have a Marine garrison or a dedicated army. It wasn't likely that it was pirates, then. But what? Plague? A famine?

A famine would explain why the docks were so empty…

It was problematic. They had minimal supplies and the cold in this region, while not enough to actually prevent snail calls, kept them from transmitting the massive distances they normally could. Branch HQ had no idea they were here for the moment, and if it was a famine they wouldn't be able to help much or request further assistance.

He could see the Captain worried just as much, the man pacing on the foredeck as Higgs coiled some line that some laggard had left lying about.

"Ahoy the ship!"

Well, someone was alive after all. Higgs- and a good chunk of Branch 48's crew to boot- made their way to the rail.

Jeez. Higgs wasn't exactly a looker himself, but the poor bastard standing at the end of the dock hailing them looked like someone had chopped him out of stone.

"What happened here?" Captain Mortvi called down.

The ugly bastard smiled. "Revelation. You have no business here, Marines. Go now."

"We received a distress call. What 'revelation' do you mean?"

"The truth of the very world. I will not ask again. Leave this place."

"This island is part of the World Government, and we are obligated to assist it," Mortvi replied frostily. "We will not leave until-"

"Genesis Wrath."

Incongruously, impossibly, a scythe of flame lanced out from where the ugly man stood, cutting up through the deck of Branch 48's ship, the heat making Higgs's eyebrows crisp even at a distance.

And then the world dissolved into a roar and white light…

"He must've hit the powder magazine or something, tore the ship to shreds," Higgs says quietly. "I remember waking up, briefly, and...I know it sounds insane but I saw him throwing lightning at the survivors. Me and a few others managed to swim away...we met up with the others, and that was that."

"So nobody knows what happened here?" Vinci asks, equally quietly.

Higgs shrugs. "Might be a merchant vessel or something picked up the original call, but if they did it's not too likely that there'll be any help from the Marines for a while. 'S been nearly a week since we lost our ship. They would've arrived by now."

Vinci takes in a breath, lets it out. "Alright." He looks at the people still milling around the party. "Alright."

His face goes still for a moment, before his grin returns, wider than ever. "Well then. Jack, Herman, Kaneki...get the boys ready to roll in the morning."

"What're we going to do?" I ask, more for the benefit of the non-crew in the conversation.

"Do?" Vinci's grin widens still further as his irises burn gold. "We're going to go practice medicine."

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Ends Justified swarmed with activity, the armory the center of the chaos as men carried crates of ammunition, sharpened swords, and generally made themselves ready for the fight that would start in the morning. Weapons were being loaded, belts tightened, knives and axes given one last check.

Vinci, for his part, was examining a rather strange weapon.

It didn't have a place, really. Not in the remnants of personal kit that tended to accumulate on a warship, because the pirates had started with nothing save Marine-issue weaponry, stolen from their captors. And they hadn't purchased anything on Murky or Walker that matched it. It was a scythe, the blade turned upwards so it was parallel to the haft, a crosspiece welded in place perpendicular to the cutting edge, the whole thing fitting smoothly together into a seamless whole. The cutting edge, along the inner surface to the blade, was razor-sharp.

Vinci hefted it in his hands. Good balance despite how crude it looked. Hmm.

Yes, this would do nicely.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Pravilno's voice drew his attention, and he watched as the pompadoured man confronted Bertram Lauren, who was loading rounds into a lever-action rifle with cold efficiency. "I'm going to fight," she said flatly, their words easy to pick out as those around them started watching the argument instead of moving or talking.

"Do you even know how to-"

"Yes. My mum and dad ran one of the local shops. Sold weapons to all comers." Even halfway across the armory Vinci could see her eyes go hard. "They weren't lucky and they weren't faithful. So I'm gonna fight."

Pravilno snorted, folding his arms. "You ever been in a fight?"

"Seen worse than anything my bullets will do to them," the young woman said monotonously.

Vinci thumped the butt of his newly acquired scythe against the deck, and both of them flinched. Utter silence descended as Vinci watched them both.

"Welcome to the crew," he said flatly. "Try not to die."

Lauren snorted, cockiness back as if it had never left, and worked the action of her gun. "I won't."

Vinci left them behind and headed for his lab, balancing his scythe on his shoulder.

Kaneki was already there when he entered, jacket and shirt off. "What exactly is it you need my blood for?" he asked flatly.

Vinci shrugged as he set his bag on a counter and leaned his scythe next to it. "There's something I'm going to try with the crew. I've tested your blood on cell cultures."

Kaneki went still as Vinci pulled a large needle- one made of a tungsten-steel alloy and one that was more typically used on the most heavily armored South Blue wildlife, since even ordinary steel near a joint or vein couldn't break the skin.

"What...exactly happened?" Kaneki asked cautiously.

"Damnedest thing. It bonded with the normal cells, then started trying to regenerate them all. Had to incinerate the lot, but before I did...well, it was making more of their cells. Not yours, and not ghoul ones."

"So…"

"So I'm going to see who wants some temporary- or maybe permanent- augmentation. We're outnumbered at least three or four to one. And we've got some tough bastards to handle ourselves, which means we can't handle the crowd for the crew."

"So you're going to inject them with my blood and hope it makes them tough enough to even the odds. Without having tested it."

"Only half a dozen, it's not only your blood in the serum, and unfortunately yes, but they'll all be volunteers."

Kaneki ground his teeth. "Fine. It fucks them up permanently though, I'm putting them down. We don't need more of me."

"If that happens, I'll swing the blade myself," Vinci said. "That's the captain's burden. Now hold still. If you're tense it'll just hurt more."

It was the work of moments to draw enough blood from the ghoul, the liquid a far brighter red than normal vitae and slightly more dense as well. He nodded to Kaneki. "You've eaten?"

The ghoul shrugged. "Long salt pork. Not exactly tasty but it's not as though I have options."

"Indeed you don't."

"So why half a dozen?"

Vinci grinned. "It's how many gas masks I have to modify into aerosol dispersal masks right now. Tell me- how do you feel about your own oni hit squad?"

The sun's fallen, but we're still planning, the crew's officers, the leader of the Marines, and Lauren gathered under a tent.

"I didn't get too close to them, but they're mostly staying in their homes except when Machitus calls them together," Lauren reports, looking over a crude map of the town. "I think they assemble at dawn to pray or whatever he wants them doing, they all go to the square and the church and stay there for a while. Easy to steal food from them then, there's nobody to pay attention."

"So if we hit them in the morning they're all in one spot, too crowded to maneuver...good sight lines, too," Jack notes.

"One of their knights is a damn good shot. Nearly took off my head with his pistols when I climbed the rooftops," Vinci adds. "We won't be able to do it quietly...but there's entrances here, here, and here."

"Split up, ten or so to a group...block the way from there and cut them down?" I muse.

Vinci shrugs. "Could work. Marines, you decent shots?"

Higgs frowns. "Decent enough, pirate. What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking we can get you up on the roofs and you can fire from there while we do our work on the ground. No offense, but you lot are half-starved and I don't think you're up for a melee."

The Marine deflates slightly. "Fine."

"Kaneki, you and the oni are with me. We'll be going for Machitus himself. If the knights get in the way, well…"

"Rip and tear?" I ask flatly.

"Smart man."

"Hrrm." I tap the map. "You sure we can't bring some of the Sirins along?"

"Moving artillery through the woods isn't a good idea," Vinci says.

"There's a cove closer to town, past the forest," Lauren says. "If we can land there…"

Vinci nods. "Should even the odds. Can't spare the men to take all six...takes three to carry and they're lacking carriages...but place them with the groups on the ground, they'll hold them off, turn the place into a killing ground."

"You think talking about the plan in such detail means it's doomed to go wrong?" I muse idly.

"Shut up, Kaneki."

"Yessir."

Someone whistles outside the tent, and Vinci's head snaps up. "Come in!"

Pravilno enters quickly. "Got the six you asked for," he says briefly. The volunteers for Vinci's...experiment.

Vinci nods. "Alright. Excuse me for a moment? Kaneki, with me."

I follow him out of the tent, taking up a position behind him as he looks over the six volunteers. Good men, all of them.

I wish I could remember their names.

"You know the risks?" Vinci asks quietly. All six of them nod. "Alright, then." He pulls a stack of dark red masks from his bag, and starts handing them out. "They're preloaded with the dosage, the toggle switch is by the jaw. There's enough in there to last you for maybe half an hour."

The men exchange glances, then nod, and don the masks easily.

Six oni glare at me in the dark, and despite my trepidation I smile.

Ends Justified slid into the cove- a smaller one than the one on the island's north side, but as close to town as promised- with nary a splash, even the anchor chain lowered with care and as much silence as possible. Herman smiled thinly as he locked the wheel in place and hurried to join the men crowding down the gangplank. Three of the Sirins were coming with them, too, though they'd be short of ammunition compared to shipboard- one could only fit so much on their carriages.

Herman stalked over to one of the twelve-man groups, looking around at the others.

Kaneki and a six-man group in dark red oni masks were speaking quietly as they and the captain joined up with another six. Jack was heading one of the dozens, and the Lauren girl and Kaneki's usual shadows were among their members. That left his own men. He looked them over with a critical eye, and sniffed the air. No fear- just anticipation, and the smell of well-cared-for weaponry. He grinned, and nodded. "Let's go."

As one, the Nightmares moved out.

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The first man dies just as dawn is breaking. He steps outside of his house, catches sight of us, and opens his mouth.

Ostavila puts a knife in his throat before he can make a sound. Darting forwards, she grabs the hilt of the blade and cuts the man's throat, dropping the body to the ground with a thump. The leathery-skinned woman catches my eye, and I nod slightly. She fades back into Jack's group silently.

Vinci looks forwards, ignoring the body. "Must've been a straggler," he mutters. "I can hear most of them up in the square. Ready?"

"Always," I answer.

The crew breaks out into a trot, Jack's group splitting off to loop around and cover the farthest entrance to the square while Herman's stays with us. The other two entrances to the courtyard are fairly close, ad the crew should be able to back each other up.

As we draw closer, I can hear more of Machitus's preaching. It's...creepy. Very creepy.

"Strength, my children, is what matters! Our Lord gives us gifts, yes, but we must be strong enough to wield them. Strong enough to break our enemies and drive them before us, for in that way we earn the Lord's favor! And we are strong...we will be the strongest! The strongest of all, and that makes our cause the most righteous in the Lord's eyes! We are an army of those who understand the true word!"

Herman's group splits off, leaving just ours.

The crowd doesn't notice us at first as we enter the square, all of them enraptured by the crazy bastard speaking on the church steps. All of them...they look normal, a bit ragged and disreputable...but then I get a good look at their eyes. Blank, staring eyes. The crewmen murmur slightly at the complete lack of reaction, the sheer alienness of it, and despite myself I'm more than a little unnerved.

Vinci, though...Vinci just laughs, the sound cutting through the preaching with ease and causing the flat-faced man to glare. "You dare…"

"Oh, I dare," Vinci calls with a grin.

"You and your pack of demons and monsters have no place on holy ground," Machitus pronounces, and I see weapons- crude, makeshift weapons, but weapons nonetheless- begin to be lifted by the populace.

"Demons? Monsters?" Vinci says, lighting a cigarette. "Heh. We're nothing so small. Fire at will!"

The Sirins roar, and at this close range there's no escape for the crowd. Against my will, my mouth waters at the scent of spilled blood as bullets rip through their packed ranks, tearing them down- only for the knights to rush into a shield wall, one that holds firm against the hail of ammunition, somehow.

-RRTTTTTTTTT-click-click-click-click…

"Shit, out of ammo already?" I grumble, crouching slightly as the dozens of surviving fighters recover their nerve and the knights unfold from their shield wall, drawing swords. "And here I thought this was gonna be easy…"

"Dahahaha...never is, Kaneki," Vinci says with a laugh. "Let's finish this. Charge!"

It fought.

It was a roaring engine of destruction, a jittering beast barely kept going on dregs of regeneration as the most potent combat cocktail in existence thrummed in its bloodstream and lungs. Its sword was long gone, lost in a shattered collection of bone and blood and flesh, and it fought with bare hands.

Name forgotten, soul forgotten, injuries and tiredness and mortality forgotten. Only orders in its skull, golden-eyed words from golden-eyed man.

Hunt! Kill! Maim!

Five more around it, spilling their own blood and others, scent right while all others were wrong-wrong-wrong, a sixth even stronger behind and the rest all traces and symbols and shouting.

It flipped over a spear-thrust, and its backhand tore the jaw from an opponent as it grabbed another man's neck and squeezed.

Hunt! Kill! Hate!

A kick shattered another man's sternum as it dropped the twitching body and dove forwards, shaking fingers taking up a wood-axe and tearing into bone and brain.

And then it and its brothers were through the crowd, facing armored heroes in tin and steel, all glints in dull sunlight. It snarled in hate and its brothers howled with it as they ran, crashing into the line of shields.

"Judgement."

It flew back, trailing blood and bone, breath rasping through fractured bone and cracked mask, and it landed on its feet with a snarl. Arm broken, fingers missing, ignored.

It launched forwards again, under the shields, quick as thought, and buried its hands in soft-crumpling steel and crushed the life from their throats. They dropped, and its brothers rushed into the gap, wary of the crushing shields, quick as vipers as they turned the formation into a slaughterhouse.

Hunt! Kill!

"Burn."

Vinci leaned to the side calmly as a pillar of flame rippled past him, letting the heat roil over him and ignoring it. He kept walking, his eyes focused on his target.

Machitus.

Vinci didn't care what faith he followed, what gifts he had from heaven. Whatever had happened to him was something more than that. The man was a tumor, and he'd be excised.

The fat knight ran past, clutching a bazooka in one hand and a shotgun in the other, and Vinci ignored him. The axe-wielding knight followed him, and Vinci ignored him too. His crew and the cult battled around him, and Vinci ignored that as well.

He even ignored the clash of metal against metal- and C-cells- to his left and right as Bisento Knight and the dandy with a sword tried to strike at him and were blocked by Kaneki and Herman.

Machitus smiled, and stepped forward, ignoring the slaughter occurring on both sides of him as the remaining oni clashed with the knights. "Have you come to kill me, then?" he asked. "You will find it a difficult undertaking."

One of the oni leapt at the priest. Without looking, his hand shot out and grabbed the man by the head, halting his charge. "Judgement."

The oni's mask shattered as the man went flying back, neck clearly broken. Machitus smiled. "No matter your artifice, it cannot compare to the power of the heavens," he pronounced. "Bow, as all must."

Vinci grinned, but there was no humor in it. "The heavens?" he said, hefting his staff. "No matter the power of your gifts...there is nothing faith can give you that I cannot discern and turn against you." The King's Heart pounded in his chest as his grin widened. "That is the nature of man, to investigate and tinker- and you've given that up, turned from thought to blind obedience to the voices in your head." His smile vanished. "And for that, I'll kill you. With my weak, mundane, mortal tools, you mad fool." He leveled his scythe as Machitus's smile vanished, and launched himself forward, Shaving mid-step. "Greater Amputation!"

Blood flew.

"Falcon Stoop!"

Herman grunted slightly as he blocked the blond-haired swordsman's overhand blow with Amakatta, taking a step back. Not because the bastard was strong, but because he kept-

-he dodged to the side, deflecting a thrust as the blond shouted another fucking pretentious phrase-

Kept trying to spit him like a pig. And every damn counter got absorbed by that fucking buckler in the man's off-hand, as though his strikes weren't even hitting it!

Steel shrieked against steel as he swung Amakatta in a short, harsh arc, forcing the swordsman back as the power of the blow cracked against his guard, too quickly for him to put the shield in the way. The man backed away, before pausing. "What is your name, pirate?" he asked, smiling.

"Bosque Herman," he grunted, lowering Amakatta slightly. "What's it to you?"

"I like to know the name of those who I honor with combat," the dandy said. "I am Knight-Sergeant Jordan...and you will die on my blade."

"Confident little pup, aren't you?" Herman growled. "Fine then. Take your best shot!" he called, lowering Amakatta.

Just as expected, Jordan darted forwards, aiming to spit him again as he shouted something about courts and fans.

Right before the bastard could touch him, Herman shifted form, gaining two feet in height and a couple hundred pounds of fur-covered muscle in an instant, and grabbed the man's shield by the rim, yanking it away and ignoring the pain of the man's steel toothpick opening a gash along his ribs. Amakatta swung, and faced with losing his arm or dropping his shield, the dandy chose the former, dashing back out of reach again.

"So you have the form of a dog as well as its lack of honor," the dandy commented as Herman hurled the shield aside. "How appropriate."

Herman snarled. "Honor means nothing, you little shit. I am a swordsman- I cut down the enemy, nothing less! Now, let's end this, blade to blade!"

"Fine, then," the dandy replied, taking up a two-handed grip on his sword. "Silk Whirlwind!"

"Last Laska!"

"It's no use," the knight taunted as bullets spalled off his armor. "Everything you fire merely increases the potency of my weapons. For instance…"

Lauren cursed, and ducked behind the dubious cover of an abandoned cart as the enormously fat bastard pointed his bazooka at the closest pirates, men who were charging him with swords and axes. "Pharisee's Wind."

The blast of- she had no idea, honestly, air, energy?- sent them hurtling back with bone-breaking force.

"Gagagahahaha! You can't break me! I, Knight-Sergeant Martin, am stronger than any of you!"

Well this fucker certainly liked to hear himself talk…

Fuck! Even armor good enough to turn bullets should've been shaking him like a pea in a can with the number of hits he'd taken. Internal bleeding, bruised organs, fractured ribs...and he fucking walked it off! Maybe if she could get a bullet into his visor...but he'd shoot back before she could line it up right, the second she popped out of cover.

She couldn't do it. She was going to-

"Hey."

The acrid smell of cigarette smoke cut through the haze of gunpowder and fear. She opened her eyes- when had she closed them?- as Pravilno put a hand on her shoulder. What the hell was he doing? Why wasn't he fighting?

The man grinned. "Got a plan? He's a tough bastard, and Jack's too busy fighting that other guy to handle him."

"Come out and die you little insects!"

"Aaand he might be working himself into a rage since everyone else is finding cover," Pravilno noted.

"Why the hell do you expect me to have a plan?" Lauren hissed. "You damn well know I've never been in a battle before- you're the pirate! Hell, you didn't want me fighting in the first place!"

Pravilno frowned. "I...don't like to see young women in danger. I had a sister, and one day-"

BOOM!

The half of the cart Pravilno was hiding behind burst into a rain of splinters, the explosion hurtling Pravilno away from her as she was knocked back. She felt wood slice into her skin, some far too close to her eyes for comfort.

Ow….

Axe and hammer rang together as they clashed again, and Jack snarled. His people were getting hurt, or worse, because he couldn't put down this bastard fast enough.

"What is the matter, pirate? Unhappy because you cannot aid your comrades?" the axe-wielding nut said with a far-too-pleased grin. "Come, now. Let me break you, so that I may prove my strength in the eyes of the Lord."

"You keep yammering on about that," Jack said flatly. "Pretty sure the good book doesn't have anything about pyres and murdering in it."

"The old faith? Oh, no. That is long dead. This is a new faith, of strength and blood and iron. And you have your place in it, as everyone else does."

"You're near as mouthy as that priest of yours," Jack muttered. "Fine, you want strength? Ukko!"

The battle is clear around the two of us, people giving us space. Not out of respect, but because the knight is waving his bisento around like mad and any cult member who intrudes in my space ends up impaled by my tails.

"Scale Cut!"

"Lion's Pride!"

The force of his strike nearly sends me reeling, but the rest of my tails rush in, forcing him back for a moment. I drop into a crouch, heaving for breath, and he leans heavily on his bisento to do the same.

"You are strong, demon," he says. "But I have the will of the Lord behind me. Evil cannot defeat good."

"You call this good?" I snarl. "Pyres of the dead, driving others out into the woods to die?"

"The Father opened my eyes to the Lord's will. What he desires is good, and to oppose it is evil. That is the simple fact of the world."

I can't help it. I laugh. "So that's what you really think?" I mutter, straightening. "Well, then. I suppose it's a good thing."

"That you die here?"

"No. That when I tear you open and feast on your heart, I'll know I'm doing the world a service. Now come on, Commander Reuel. Come and kill me, if you can."

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Vinci dodged Machitus's palm strike by inches, and slammed one of his own into the man's chest. "Fracture Trauma!"

The flat-faced priest went flying, crashing through the doors of his church and reducing them to splinters in the process. Vinci leaned on his staff, panting, and probed at the crisscrossed gashes one of the priest's blows had left in his left arm.

Hmmph. Shallow.

He considered. Blows from the right hand produced massive kinetic force. Blows from the left, cutting force, x-shaped. The former he hadn't let impact him, but he hadn't had a choice with the latter...and he'd felt something in the priest's hands, obscured by the bandages but there nonetheless. Round and hard and definitely not an actual palm.

He grinned. Interesting.

"Get him!"

Three knights charged at him, swords drawn. One dropped mid-step as a bullet punched a hole through his helmet. That left one on each side.

"Tracheal Trauma," Vinci said flatly, spinning his scythe and slamming the butt of it into the throat of the knight charging from the left. Knight on the right got two steps further before Vinci's scythe spun back around and parted his head from his shoulders.

There was a dull whump as the knight collapsed onto the cobblestones, and the man's body jumped back into the air before falling again. Vinci knelt down and flipped the body over, noting absently that cracks had spread from the impact point.

Hmm. Even more interesting. Now let's see...he'd fallen shield-first…

The man's shield, like all the others, was an antiquated kite-style thing with a prominent boss higher up- and said boss was cracked just as badly as the cobblestones. A bit of quick work with a scalpel pulled it off entirely, revealing an odd-looking...shell, he supposed. Spiral-shaped and lined with holes. He pried it free easily, bouncing it in his palm.

"Gifts from the Lord, heh," he muttered. "What are you, little shell…."

His eye caught the gathering light seconds before a lance of flame burst from the ruins of the church, just enough to let him dodge to the side.

Machitus did not look happy. Then again, it wasn't as though being thrown into your own church was a cause for joy, Vinci hypothesized. The priest's right hand smoked gently- probably the source of the flame- while his left carried a large tome. "You are rapidly becoming an annoyance," the priest snarled.

Vinci laughed. "Oh, is that all? I'd think that killing off your army of cultists would make me more than that."

Machitus glared. "My losses can be replaced. Why don't I show you how?" He raised the tome in one hand, and Vinci caught a glimpse of embossed silver letters- before gunshots sounded and the upper two-thirds of the book turned into confetti.

Machitus's expression was something he would treasure.

"You...you…"

"Why, Father, I'm amazed. Is this little thing what finally makes you lose your compos-"

Something- a shift in his stance, or maybe just a current of air- warned Vinci to step back. It saved his life as a boot-clad foot passed right through where his head had been, cratering the ground as it impacted. Vinci barely managed to block with the shaft of his scythe as Machitus spun in place, slamming a textbook-perfect kick that sent him skidding back across the cobblestones.

"You little bastard," Machitus hissed. "HEAVENLY WRATH!"

Vinci's world turned into pain.

Herman snarled as the little bastard's blade nearly took a chunk out of his arm. The nimble sabre cut a long gash, nearly cutting tendons, before he slammed his own blade into the man's guard and forced him back again.

"What's the matter, dog? I thought you wanted a match, blade against blade?" the dandy taunted. "Tell me: is this the first time your fury has failed you? The first time you've faced someone with skill? You aren't worthy to carry that blade."

Herman saw red, and Amakatta howled. He swung, only for the dandy to slip to the side, laughing.

"Clumsy, a fool brandishing a hunk of raw iron! And now…" The dandy kicked up a familiar shield, snatching it out of the air. "How can you beat my defense, dog?"

Amakatta shrieked through the air as Herman tried to part Jordan's head from his shoulders.

The boss of the buckler slammed into his chest as the blond knight ducked, and the bastard grinned. "Deliverance."

Pain ripped through him, dozens of crisscrossing gashes opening up on his torso as he staggered back. He spat blood, joining the growing puddle on the cobblestones as he slowly fell to one knee, leaning on his sword.

No. Not like this.

"Is that all, dog? I suppose I've bled you enough."

"No," he managed to growl, staring at the man through blood-clouded eyes. He stood.

"Let me tell you a story," Kaneki said quietly as Herman panted on the deck, flat on his back. Why? Why couldn't he cut the bastard? Even with Amakatta…

"Let me tell it to you as my master once told me," the ghoul said, not even winded. "There once was a man, a swordsman of great renown. His name and title was Abaddon Wagner, Lord of the Edge of Heaven, Bearer of the Executioner's Blade, and Councillor of the Sevenfold Kingdom, and his powers were mighty enough to earn him status and acclaim.

One day, Wagner gathered his retainers, who were hungry for tutelage. "Lord Wagner!" said his sandal bearer, who bore the name Navier, and was a doctor of high learning, "What is the first step on the path to Mastery?"

"There are no steps," replied Wagner, "It is zero-sum with your reality. It is not measured in finger-lengths."

"Lord Wagner," said his bodyguard, who was named Mendel, and who had broken armies with the strength of his limbs. "Is the path to Mastery the path of struggle, then?"

"No," said Wagner, "One may attain it without any effort at all. It is, in fact, the antithesis of struggle."

Wagner's steward, who was burdened with the name Mahbub and knew much of war, was very discontent with his master's evasiveness. "Lord," he said, "Allow us lowly men some small measure of understanding. For sympathy's sake, and the sake of we good and loyal servants, please tell us in plain language the nature of Mastery."

"I will tell you precisely what Mastery is," said Wagner, "It is a continuous cutting motion."

"I...don't understand," Herman managed to wheeze.

Kaneki smiled. "Neither did I. But one day you will."

"Cujo...Howl," he growled, before his vision turned to blood and thunder.

"Do you know what is best in life?" his opponent asked casually as he backed out of the range of Jack's hammer.

"What?" Jack spat.

"To break your enemies, drive them before you, and hear the lamentations of their wo-"

A blur of blood and broken metal smashed the axe-wielding knight aside, followed closely by the black-furred hulk of Herman, in full dog form.

Jack blinked for a moment as the dog-man pounced on the faintly groaning shape of the axeman. Massive jaws closed around the man's neck, and jerked sharply.

There was a small snapping sound, and the man went limp.

Okay. That happened. Right.

"Bosque?" he called out, getting a rumbling growl in response. Jack looked the dog-man in the eyes. The blank, bloodshot eyes.

Great. Another berserker. Jack frowned, and tapped his hammer in one hand. "Oi, navigator!" he shouted. "Snap out of it!"

The gigantic dog's growl deepened, then cut off as Jack pointed his hammer at it. "Bad dog. Go back to being human."

The animal huffed. And then its eyes rolled back in its head and it faceplanted into the cobblestones, turning back into Herman mid-fall.

Judging from the sound, the dog-man had broken his nose in the process. Oh, well, it wasn't as though he could look any worse.

"Help…"

Jack glanced at the form of the axeman, who was pinned under Herman and something that had probably been a person before Herman's dog form had gotten to it. "And why?"

"Can't...feel anything. Cold…" the man whispered.

Shit. Alright, then. "What's your name, then?"

"Howard…"

"Then rest, Howard." There was only one kind of help he could give at this point.

His hammer came down.

I'm starting to regret my choice of opponent.

If I could just reach the overly tall bastard this fight would be over in seconds. But no, I had to pick the one incredibly strong guy with the sense to use his height and reach and make it even worse by waving around a polearm.

I dodge another strike, and grit my teeth as Reuel's bisento cuts into my upper-left tail. How the hell is he pulling it off? These things are able to cut steel! My other three tails dart forwards, forcing him back and cutting a shallow groove into his gauntlet.

"Hmmph. I know your tricks, demon. Those tails are your weapons, no? I wonder...is the rest of you so strong?"

I grin. "You're welcome to try, knight."

He hasn't hit me hard enough or gotten past my tails. He doesn't know about my regeneration, probably thinks only the tails can do it.

This will be interesting.

"Very well. Black Fury!"

"Scaled Guard!"

Blows rain down on my crisscrossed tails, cutting away at them bit by bit. I go to one knee- and hide my grin even as a pair of immensely strong slashes sever each pair, leaving me defenseless.

"Blade of Shadow and Flame!"

His next strike hits me in the collarbone, and keeps going, cutting into ribs and one of my lungs, barely avoiding the heart. I stagger, grabbing on to the haft of the weapon to stay standing. "Con- congratulations," I cough, bringing up blood with my words. "You cut...four of my tails."

I grin up at him.

"Too bad...I have six. Scale Lance."

He could let go of his weapon, but he hesitates, trying to pull it free against the grip I have on it. That fraction of a second is all I need to push free a third pair of tails from my back and send them punching through his breastplate and into his chest.

He falls to his knees as I push his weapon out of my body, torn muscle and bone knitting closed behind it.

"Now...I think I made a promise about your heart," I say with a smile.

Pravilno wasn't moving. The amount of blood on the cobblestones told Lauren all she need to know. If he wasn't dead, he'd be finished soon enough. But she kept crawling towards him anyway, even though every movement sent shivers of pain through her entire body, especially where she could feel a row of splinters in her leg.

"What are you trying, girl?" the fat knight inquired.

She ignored him as she grabbed at Pravilno's pistol, dropped on the ground. Her fingers closed around the smooth, blood-soaked wood, and she drew strength from it.

"Oh? A weapon? Is that little thing your final attempt?"

"Shut. Up," she managed to growl as, shakily, she stood.

The knight laughed, looming over her, pointing his weapon at her. She didn't shiver, or falter. "What do you intend to do, little girl? You cannot pierce my defenses."

She smiled. "I know," she said, making her voice as mocking as she could manage. "I was just waiting for him to get behind you."

The knight whirled, only to find nobody there.

She gathered her strength, and jumped, an arm scrabbling for the fat man's neck and finding purchase even as a metal-clad arm tried to reach back and tear her off his back.

"Gunnery Special: Point Blank," she snarled as she shoved the weapon into the slit of the man's visor and pulled the trigger.

Vinci was vaguely certain he shouldn't be tasting ozone.

Or blood.

But he was anyway. Why…?

"Do you have any idea the cost I paid for that knowledge, to be deserving of the Lord's attention?!" Ah. That was why. "Heavenly Wrath!"

Another bolt of electricity, another surge of pain as muscles locked up and nerves screamed...but this one was less than the ones before it.

Ba-bum.

He chuckled, even though it felt like swallowing glass. "So simple…"

"Do you know what that book taught me? Taught us all? You foolish little Philistine…" Machitus's voice seemed distant, and at the same time far, far too close. "Let me educate you. I sailed for months, searching, searching for something that would let the world make sense again. My crew of faithful died around me, from plague or storm or pirate, and all seemed lost as my ship was becalmed, empty of supplies and unable to sail…" The man's voice choked off for a moment, before resuming, even louder. "And then the Lord saw me! A ship fell from the skies, laden with supplies, with weapons and goods...and with His Word. I took it, I read it, and I understood, for the first time, what the world was like."

Ba-bum. Veins shifted under Vinci's skin, a network obeying no rhyme or reason...except his own. Strength surged into his body, and he found it in him to stand, facing the preacher as he ranted.

"This world...this cruel, blood-soaked world...those who the Lord loves are the mighty! Those who take what they want from this world, those who have the strength to defend all from every enemy! You know this is true- the Marines, the pirates, the Emperors and the Warlords, they rule not through the right or the will of the masses, but because they are strong! They are holy! They are right! As I am right, boy, because you are not strong enough to stand against me. You never will be, for the Lord has decreed for me to spread this message, to all the Blue Seas and across the Grand Line! I will kill you. I will kill your crew. I will take your vessel, and I. WILL. RULE!"

Vinci smiled.

Babum-babum.

"Rule…" he whispered, before he raised his eyes to Machitus's. "Rule? As a barbarian, through the strength of your arm? You….dahahahaha! You are no ruler! You call your tools and your creed heaven-sent?"

Babum-babumbabumbabum….

Something in him surged, and lightning crackled over his arm, dancing over clothes and skin as both his hearts, mortal and Royal, beat even faster. "What your god grants you, my knowledge can equal…" he snarled, taking a step forward. "And surpass, a thousand times." Another step, and Machitus's shock faded as he lifted his own hand, blue lightning to mirror Vinci's yellow crackling off it. "And it always will."

"Very well," the priest said. "You are the last test I must vanquish. Now come! Strike me down! HEAVENLY WRATH!"

"Shave. Electroshock Excision."

Vinci landed on the cobblestones with a thump.

Machitus landed with two.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"What the fuck…" I mutter with a bloody mouth as Vinci somehow starts making fucking lightning and rips Crazy McNuthouse in half. I scrub it away with the back of a hand and sprint over as my captain goes to one knee, panting.

"Christ, Vinci, what the hell did you do?" I ask as I offer him a hand up. He grins.

"Dahahaha...well, the King's Heart is meant for a King. And before a King can rule the world, he must rule himself."

"English, you nutjob," I growl.

"Fiiiine. The glowing gold organ I grew in a glass tube and linked to my veins gives me a bit of shapeshifting and regeneration. Anything I have knowledge of, I can imitate."

I stare. "You're bullshit and your science is bullshit."

"Yep, dahahahaha…" His grin thins as he looks over the silent battlefield, and he nods to himself. "Alright," he says, starting to roll up his sleeves. "Time to get to work."

There was a light. Was he...supposed to go towards it? Wasn't that the whole schtick?

Maybe it was...but he had people to keep looking after. Right?

Yeah. He did.

It wasn't time to-

"Clear."

Lightning clouded his vision, jittering down his skull and filling his veins with fire.

Pravilno's eyes snapped open- and almost immediately closed again, because the captain grinning down at you was something nobody wanted to wake up to.

The sound of a scalpel thudding into the wood of the operating table less than an inch from his ear convinced him to open them again, though.

"Welcome back to the world of the living, Mr. Dobre," Vinci hissed. "Now, let me explain something to you. In the past twenty-four hours, I've been electrocuted, lacerated, battered, and generally kicked about, and the rest of the crew is almost as bad off. If you think I'm letting you die from something as simple as blunt force trauma, you have another thing coming. You. Do. Not. Have. My. Permission. To. Die. Understood?"

"N-n-noted," Pravilno stuttered as Vinci's eyes flared gold.

"Good. Now get off my operating table."

Pravilno practically leapt off the bloodsoaked wood, vaguely noting that he'd been stripped to the waist and that there were an awful lot of new surgical scars on his torso, a pair of facts he filed away for freaking out about later.

"Oh, and Mr. Dobre?" Another trio of scalpels slammed into the doorframe right next to his head and hand, and he jerked back. Vinci's grin never faltered. "If you're stupid enough to get injured because you decided to start an emotional backstory in the middle of a battle...next time that happens, I'll geld you and see if it makes you less stupid."

Pravilno gulped. "Understood," he managed to squeak out.

"All things considered, we got off light," Jack said.

Vinci grunted as he watched the party. It was going surprisingly well, considering a pall of pyre smoke was still faintly visible even as far from the site as the docks were.

It said a lot about what the townsfolk had done to each other that the survivors didn't want to bury the ones Machitus had led. Not even those few who'd had family among the army.

Vinci had made sure that that book, or rather its remnants, had gone on the pyre. He still wasn't sure what exactly had made Machitus so confident in it, but it had done...something. Something he didn't yet have the knowledge to explain.

Yet. But that was why he wanted to go to the Line. The knowledge was out there, he simply had to find it.

The battle hadn't left the Nightmares unscathed. Just about every member of the crew had been wounded at least once, and while much of it was minor...the oni were still in critical condition, as were several others who'd been cut down by that one fat bastard Lauren had taken out.

Speaking of said bastard…

"Looting done?" he asked. Jack nodded.

"Like you said, captain, nobody's touched the shells. We found a couple dozen more in the church, hidden under some floorboards. Not sure what they all are…" He paused, and shuffled awkwardly, an almost ridiculous motion from such a big man.

"What happened?" Vinci asked flatly.

Jack shrugged. "A couple of them started fooling around with the ones we took from the knights, one of them dislocated a shoulder, another's got a couple fractured ribs. Medics patched them up, though."

"Heh. They figured out to leave them be, then?"

"Real damn quick."

"Good."

There was a bit of silence, broken only by the sounds of the celebration.

"We're still going to train, and take on supplies, right?" Jack asked quietly.

Vinci nodded. "More of the former. I don't think they have much to spare."

"That'll mean we'll have to sneak into Hangman's Town, captain." And avoid the Marine garrison there, his quartermaster didn't say but Vinci heard anyway.

He shrugged. "We'd have to do that anyway. Better that when we do, we're stronger."

Jack nodded. "Aye, captain. How long are we going to stay?"

"Couple weeks. Recover on the first one, train on the second. And I'll be getting Kaneki to help me with teaching everyone who can some of the more...impossible things."

Jack gulped, but straightened his shoulders. "We won't let you down, captain." He paused. "And...the girl?"

Vinci looked down from Ends Justified's rail. He caught Kaneki for half a second, surrounded by children, of all things, telling some sort of story. Herman, meditating in a corner and being imitated by half a dozen young men with trimmed branches instead of swords on their laps. Even a couple of the oni, masks pushed up on their heads as they limped around, laughing and joking with the other partiers. And the Lauren girl, smiling as Pravilno told some story that was like as not as truthful as it was moderate. He smiled. "I said she's crew, didn't I? She proved herself...and I think it'll be interesting to see what she becomes capable of."

"Aye, captain."

Burning, the fire in her bones and turning her flesh to steam and screams-

Lauren practically catapulted out of bed, gasping for air.

Fuck. Nightmares again.

She wasn't a scared little girl. She shouldn't have been having these...these horrors in her dreams.

She shook her head, trying to dispel the last traces of the dream as she padded out of the tiny cabin she'd been granted- something the pirate captain had given her when she'd asked to stay on his ship rather than in her far-too-empty home, even with the captain staying docked in town.

Fuck it. She needed to clear her head. Walls were too close here, too confining.

To her surprise, someone was up outside as well, the dark making it difficult to tell exactly who.

One of the deckboards creaked under her feet, and the figure turned. Red irises flared, and she took a step back, nearly falling back down the stairs.

"Let me guess, couldn't sleep," the cannibalistic first mate snarked.

Fuck. It wasn't as though he was going to attack her. The day after the battle, the captain had filled her in on Kaneki's...condition. It was horrifying...and the man was unquestionably a monster...but she'd seen him telling stories to children, playing music…

"You coming up or not?"

She shook her head, and stepped out onto the deck. There was a decent breeze, and as she walked up to the rail she felt some of the cobwebs in her head clear away with the smell of salt.

There was silence for a moment.

"Why're you up here?" she asked.

Kaneki shrugged. "Don't sleep much. Volunteered for the night watch. You?"

"...nightmares," she admitted.

"Hrm. You feel guilty?"

"What? About killing him? I…" She shook her head. "No. Didn't...like it, but it was him or me. It's about everything beforehand." She sighed. "Fuck, and here I thought being a pirate would help me move on or something. Instead all I've done is brood."

"Grief's allowable," Kaneki commented vaguely. "There's no shame in it...or in anger."

"What, you think I'm going to break down over losing my parents to those bastards?" she said flatly. "I'm not that weak, and we put the bastards who did it in the ground."

Kaneki shrugged. "Like I said. No shame in grief or rage." He turned to face her, and despite the dark she caught the gleam of a smile. "Whatever you feel, conquer it and move on. That's my philosophy."

"It work?"

Another shrug. "Keeps me from feeling too guilty about what I've gotta do to survive. So, yeah."

"Huh."

Kaneki shifted his weight slightly as they both remained silent, the only sound the waves lapping at the docks.

"You sure piracy's what you want?" he asked quietly.

"What, you think I don't have the stomach for it?"

"Nah, you've got grit...but being a pirate more often than not means killing people. We aren't saints."

She glared at him.

"I mean people who weren't responsible for the deaths of most of the people you loved," Kaneki clarified.

Screams and flames, the pleading of the condemned-

"I'll be fine," she said shortly.

"Suit yourself." Kaneki smiled. "By the by, training starts tomorrow. You're gonna have a lot of catching up to do."

"Okay," I say very calmly. "I can understand the medical education. And the tools that go with it. Makes sense with how you were planning to set out. I can even understand you having learned some borderline-insane doctoring stuff before you left, you're a smart guy."

Vinci grins nervously as my eyes shift.

"BUT HOW THE FUCK DID YOU MANAGE TO SMUGGLE A SIX POWERS SCROLL WITH EVERYTHING ELSE?! WHY THE FUCK DID YOU EVEN HAVE THAT? I THOUGHT YOU COULDN'T EVEN USE THE DAMN THINGS!" I scream, abandoning all pretensions of calm at the sheer bullshit I'm faced with.

"Marine commodore grandpa," Vinci says calmly.

"You're fucking joking. That excuse can't excuse him committing what I'm pretty sure is treason...fuck, even if he was retired…"

"Did I ever tell you what happened to my parents?" Vinci said, suddenly extremely calm in a way that makes me back up fast.

"No," I say. "What's that got to do with the Six Powers scroll?"

"There was a major campaign conducted...twenty years ago. I was a baby at the time. Twelve fleets, assigned to scour the West Blue from the Calm Belt all the way to the Red Line. My parents were supposed to be part of it, but they sent me to my grandpa in the South Blue beforehand. I think they wanted to make sure I couldn't be caught in the crossfire as they went after all the criminals. But here's the thing...that campaign was meant to have 13 fleets. Except the 13th Royal Flotilla, the one my parents were part of...it objected to the campaign. It objected to hunting down an eight-year-old girl, Nico Robin, the Devil Child of Ohara. And for that, the Marines...no, one Marine, killed them all." His voice is perfectly steady, and the meeting room is utterly silent. Not one of us dares say a word. "My grandpa was already retired. But he wasn't happy with what happened...or why." He smiled. "I have very few things to remember my parents by. A few scientific texts my mother loved, some of my father's medical tools. And this scroll, where they recorded everything they knew about combat and the human body." He smiles. I start sweating. "So please, don't call my small inheritance treason, hmm?"

"Our captain is terrifying…" Herman mutters, sweating profusely.

I nod. "Sorry, captain. Just a bit of a shock, is all."

Vinci sits back in his chair. "It's alright. Bit of a touchy subject, dahahaha…" he replies.

"Okay," Jack says. "So we've got the means to learn these...Six Powers."

"Ehh…" Vinci says with a shrug. "Sort of. Most of the crew will probably only be able to do one or two for now. And everyone's got their specialities." He smiles. "You guys, though, you're officers. I'm going to expect all of you to be at least functional with the full set."

"In a week, captain?" Jack asks, while Herman leans forwards, clearly interested. I just sigh. This is going to be hell to time properly, getting an entire crew up from Blues standards- tougher than normal Blues standards with what training we've done, but still Blues standards- to people able to handle at least one of the Six Powers...and working them out myself. In a week.

Vinci grins, and pulls out a small bottle of bright red pills. "Yes, in a week," the captain says, tossing the bottle to Jack. "Those little things are basically hyper-concentrated vitamins. Plus a rather unethical blend of my own personal creation."

"Unethical?" I ask sharply. Vinci's grin widens.

"Well, they are harvested from a rare species of humanoid…"

"First off, fuck you for making me wonder what you'd been getting up to, and second off...STOP FUCKING USING ME AS A STEROID YOU BASTARD!" I shout, slamming my hands onto the table.

"Dahahahaaha! But your cells are so useful!"

"So wait, we're eating bits of Kaneki?" Herman inquires, looking at the bottle with a grimace.

"Nope, just things I grew from bits of him and then extracted the useful stuff from. I'm pretty sure it won't make you ghouls. Mostly. Maybe."

"Your confidence in your own science is so reassuring," I say flatly.

"Hey, if it works it works. So quartermaster, start distributing them among the crew, one pill for each of them should more than suffice."

Jack nods, slowly. "Aye, captain."