MTLNOVEL Chapter 182: Chapter 182
The perpetual fog bank clinging to Sankhara Deep felt thicker than usual, a damp, grey shroud muffling the ever-present roar of the Karmic Maw. On the outermost Lost Coil platform – a skeletal structure of woven sea-snake sinew and storm-kelp rope anchored to colossal whale ribs jutting from the cliff face – Visha and Vritra, the Naga Twins, moved in their eerie, mirrored harmony. Their vibrant olive skin glistened with salt spray, matching blue serpent tattoos writhing with each coiled step as they scanned the horizon. Below, the dark water churned, cold updrafts carrying the mineral tang of deep ocean and the faint, sweet-rot scent of storm kelp harvested far below.
Suddenly, Visha's head snapped west, her long snake-like neck extending like a periscope. Vritra mirrored the motion a heartbeat later. Their luminescent yellow eyes narrowed, pupils contracting to vertical slits against the gloom.
"Visha? See that?" Vritra's voice was low, the usual playful lilt replaced by sharp tension.
"Movement. Massive." Visha's reply was clipped, her hand already reaching for the brass speaking tube wired back to the Steam-Fog Citadel. "Not a storm front. Solid. Living."
Through the shifting veils of fog, an impossible silhouette resolved. It wasn't a ship. It wasn't an island. It was a colossal, dark shape walking through the Grand Line swells, taller than Sankhara Deep's highest cliffs, its legs like moving mountains plunging into the sea with earth-shaking thoomps that vibrated through the platform cables. Water cascaded off its impossible flanks in thunderous waterfalls.
"By Ananta's coils..." Vritra breathed, her knuckles white on her Coral Trishula. "What is that? A sea king? Some… some walking island?"
"Never seen its like," Visha confirmed, her own Vipera Net Whip coiled tight in her fist. She pressed her lips to the tube's mouthpiece, her voice sharp and clear despite the tremor beneath it. "Lost Coil Platform Gamma to Citadel! Unidentified colossal creature approaching bearing west-northwest! Moving directly towards the Maw's perimeter! Repeat, colossal living entity inbound!"
Deep within the volcanic heart of the Steam-Fog Citadel, the air thrummed with geothermal power and ancient tension. Commander Mangala "The Iron Tide" stood before the glowing central pentagon of the Pentagon Circle array, the intricate plates of metal and stone etched with luminous blue lines casting shifting patterns on his obsidian skin. The damp, metallic tang of volcanic steam mixed with the faint, ever-present brine. Elder Kali, her battle-scarred neck held rigid, Elder Ananta, his coils wound tight with spiritual unease, and Elder Galit Varuna, fingers nervously tapping calculations on his volcanic glass slate, formed a tense semi-circle around him. Kavi, "The Pentagon's Whisper," hovered near the control interfaces, his electric-blue eyes flickering like faulty circuitry, his low hum vibrating the brass pipes.
The brass intercom horn crackled, spitting Visha's report into the chamber. Silence followed, thick as the fog outside, broken only by the deep groan of the planet's heat beneath them and Kavi's discordant tune.
"Walking?" Elder Kali rasped, her yellow eyes blazing. "Impossible. A trick of the fog?"
"Visha and Vritra do not mistake threats," Mangala stated, his voice a low growl that resonated in the chamber. His amber gaze never left the main projection – a swirling, mist-generated map showing the Maw's churning black circle and the terrifyingly large golden node representing the approaching entity. "Its path intersects the Maw's edge. Impact… inevitable."
Elder Ananta's snake-like neck coils tightened audibly, a dry hiss escaping him. "Karmic imbalance! A beast of such scale… its passage, its fall into the Maw… the disruption could be catastrophic. Our gardens… the lower vents…" The unspoken fear hung heavy: the fragile infrastructure carved into the cliff face, the geothermal taps powering their fog and defenses, could be crushed or flooded.
"An opportunity?" Elder Galit Varuna interjected, his emerald eyes darting across his slate. "Salvage? Resources on such a scale… bones, hide…" He sketched rapidly. "Imagine the raw materials, Elder Kali. Reinforcement for the platforms, new alloys…"
"Foolishness!" Elder Ananta snapped, his green eyes flashing. "Opportunity? It is a beacon! Anything large enough to walk these waters draws eyes. Marine patrols. Pirate scavengers. Investigators. We cannot risk exposure! Our survival hinges on being forgotten, a whisper lost in the storm!"
"Exposure?" Kali scoffed, her voice like grating stone. "Who notices one more dead leviathan in these waters? The Grand Line devours giants daily. Let the Maw claim it. Natural causes. Clean. Silent." She gestured sharply towards Kavi and the humming Pentagon Circles. "Charybdis hungers. Let it have its due. A karmic offering to settle the scales this intrusion threatens to tip."
Galit Varuna looked up from his slate, meeting Mangala's stoic gaze. "Father? The creature… its sheer size… Charybdis might struggle. Or the struggle itself could draw more attention. Ripples on the water…"
Mangala remained silent, a statue carved from volcanic rock. His fingers traced a complex rhythm on the worn leather grips of 'Harmony's Bite' hanging at his hips. The weight of centuries pressed down – the fear of the Snare, the ghosts of failed defenses, the desperate need for Sankhara Deep to remain unseen. The Pentagon Circles hummed louder, resonating with his internal conflict. He saw Elder Kali's ruthless pragmatism – eliminate the threat, bury the evidence in the abyss. He felt Elder Ananta's spiritual terror – the disruption, the potential exposure, an offense to their precarious balance. He understood his son's cold calculus – the risk versus the potential, however slim, for gain.
Time, the one enemy he couldn't outmaneuver, bled away. The golden node pulsed closer on the mist-map.
"Deliberation drowns us," Mangala finally spoke, his voice cutting through the tension like a Vipera Whip. He drew himself up to his full height, his combat-coiled neck a pillar of grim resolve. "The creature breaches the perimeter in minutes. Its impact risks our foundations. Its presence, dead or alive, risks our secrecy." He turned his burning amber gaze to each Elder. "We vote. Unleash Charybdis? Contain the threat, let the Maw consume the evidence?"
"Unleash it," Kali stated immediately, fist clenched. "Swift karmic judgment."
"Containment… through annihilation," Galit Varuna added, his voice tight. "The only practical path now."
Elder Ananta closed his luminous green eyes, his snake-neck coils trembling. "The Maw's wrath invoked… a heavy debt. But… the alternative risks greater imbalance. Unleash it." He sounded defeated.
Mangala gave a single, sharp nod. His decision was made the moment Kali spoke. Survival demanded it. "Kavi. Signal the Depth Platform. Prepare Charybdis. Target the approaching entity. Maximum agitation. Let the Maw's judgment be swift and absolute." He didn't wait for acknowledgment, his gaze fixed on the misty projection as the colossal walking shape drew terrifyingly near the edge of the light-devouring abyss. The die was cast. Sankhara Deep would answer the unknown giant with the fury of its ancient, karmic guardian. The Pentagon Circles flared, their hum deepening to a hungry snarl, ready to awaken the leviathan sleeping in the dark.
*****
The climb to the Rightflank Summit was a brutal ascent through deepening twilight. The air grew thin and sharp, scented with pine resin and the cold tang of distant frost. Below, the sprawling forests of Zou resembled dark, rumpled velvet, pierced by the occasional glow of Mink settlements. Above, the sky deepened to indigo, stars pricking through like scattered salt. Master Forgepaw, despite his age and bulk, moved with surprising sure-footedness, his iron-grey fur blending with the shadows. Marya followed, her combat boots finding purchase on moss-slick rocks with silent efficiency, the Heart Pirate emblem on her leather jacket catching the fading light. Ikkaku puffed beside her, wiping sweat from her brow, while Jean Bart, a silent monolith, brought up the rear, his gaze constantly scanning the treacherous path. Atlas bounded ahead, his rust-red form a flicker against the darkening rock face, his usual bravado muted by the grim urgency.
They reached the Skyfall Chasm as true night fell. It was a raw, jagged scar in the gradient, not formed by water but by some colossal impact millennia ago. The sheer walls gleamed dully under the emerging moon, streaked with veins of strange, dark minerals. The air here tasted metallic, like licking an old coin, and carried the faint, unsettling hum of residual energy – the ghost of a fallen star. Scattered across the chasm floor, half-buried in scree and hardy mountain grasses, were angular fragments of stone and metal, black as void and unnaturally smooth.
"Here, gara," Master Forgepaw rumbled, his voice low and reverent in the vast quiet. He knelt, his massive palms brushing aside loose gravel with surprising delicacy. He unearthed several shards, each roughly the size of a fist. They were unlike any earthly metal – obsidian-dark, yet catching the moonlight in a way that suggested depth rather than reflection. They felt unnaturally cold and heavy for their size, seeming to almost drink the light around them. "Sky-iron," he breathed, holding one up. "The heart of the stars, gara. Harder than diamond, resonant as a tuning fork. This is what we need." He handed a shard to Marya.
Her gloved fingers closed around it. The cold bit through the leather. The weight was familiar, the texture – smooth yet subtly grained, like frozen smoke – triggered a memory. Her golden eyes, usually so distant, narrowed, then widened almost imperceptibly. A flicker of surprise, quickly masked, crossed her features. She turned the shard over in her hand, her thumb tracing its edge.
Atlas, drawn by the silence, landed lightly beside them. "Problem?" he asked, his tone sharp, blue eyes fixed on Marya's face. "Looks like slag to me."
Ikkaku, catching the subtle shift in Marya's demeanor, nudged her shoulder. "Hey. What's that look for? You know this stuff?" Her voice was a mix of curiosity and suspicion. "Spill it, Zaleska. That smirk's practically spelling trouble."
Marya didn't look up immediately. She held the star-metal shard up, letting the moonlight play across its impossible surface. The hum from the chasm seemed to resonate faintly within it. "I think I do," she said, her voice calm but carrying a new edge. "Or something very like it. I came across it… at Angkor'thal."
"Angkor'thal?" Ikkaku echoed, frowning. "That ghost city in the Calm Belt ruins? The one supposedly built by lunatics? What were you doing there?"
Marya finally lowered the shard, meeting Ikkaku's gaze. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk touched her lips. "Looking for answers. Found some trouble instead. And…" She paused, the smirk widening just a fraction. "...I picked up a few souvenirs. Including some of this." She hefted the shard meaningfully.
Ikkaku's eyes widened. "You have some? Like, right now? Where?"
"Should be in my sub," Marya stated simply, already turning on her heel and starting back down the path they'd just climbed, the star-metal shard still gripped in her hand. "Stowed it away. Thought I might need it to reforge Eclipse, if things got dicey. Turns out it's useful for giant astrolabes too."
"Reforge Eclipse?" Ikkaku yelped, scrambling after her, Jean Bart falling into step behind like a moving fortress. "Why the hell would you think you'd need to do that? And what is Angkor'thal? Seriously, Zaleska, you can't just drop a name like that and walk off!"
Marya didn't break stride, navigating the downward path with the same unnerving calm. "It's a long story, Ikkaku," she called back, her voice cutting through the mountain air. "One involving questionable architecture, worse company, and a particularly persistent giant crab that really didn't like visitors. Right now, the only relevant part is that we have the metal we need. And we need to move." She glanced over her shoulder, her golden eyes catching the moonlight. "Zunesha isn't waiting for ghost stories."
Master Forgepaw, who had been staring at Marya with a mixture of awe and disbelief, suddenly let out a rumbling chuckle that sounded like rocks tumbling down a hill. "She has the sky-iron! Stored away like spare rivets, gara!" He scooped up the remaining shards they'd found with surprising speed, tucking them into his heavy apron pockets. "Blessed roots and fallen stars, gara! Move, indeed! Lead on, Metal-Hoarder!" He practically hopped after them, his earlier weariness forgotten in a surge of grizzled excitement. The impossible had just become probable, and the race against the abyss had gained a precious, unexpected advantage – found in the haunted ruins of Angkor'thal and stashed aboard a battered submarine.
*****
The Celestial Chamber vibrated with a low, exhausted hum – the sound of desperate labor stretched thin across a long, grinding night. Sweat stung eyes, mixing with the metallic tang of heated metal and the ancient, woody scent of the Whale Tree's petrified heart. The warm, pulsing glow from the sap veins lining the walls felt dimmer now, overwhelmed by the harsh, unforgiving glare of portable arc lights the Heart Pirates had rigged. Shadows leaped and danced like frantic spirits across the vast bronze rings and the fractured star-metal plates. Dawn was a distant rumor, sensed only by the deepening ache in bones and the gritty feel under eyelids.
Master Forgepaw, his iron-grey fur matted with sweat and soot, slammed a massive hammer onto a makeshift anvil fashioned from salvaged gear segments. The CLANG echoed sharply, a punctuation mark to his frustration. "Still not enough, gara!" he roared, his voice hoarse. He gestured at the meticulously arranged pieces of dark, cold star-metal – Marya's contribution from Angkor'thal and the meager shards from Skyfall Chasm. Beside them lay the intricate clay mold Ikkaku had sculpted for the critical gear segment. "The mold demands this much! We have this! Like trying to clothe a giant with a handkerchief, gara!" He spat the last word, the Dog Storm's trademark slipping out in his exhaustion.
Nekomamushi, perched on a higher root ledge overlooking the central pool, his white fur stark in the artificial light, lashed his tail. "Not enough, meow? You said her metal was the key, meow meow! What's the blockage now?" His growl cut through the clatter of tools and the rhythmic groaning of the other, partially repaired rings.
Ikkaku wiped grease from her forehead, leaving a smudge. Her curly hair was escaping its tie in wild strands. "It is the key, Lord Nekomamushi," she said, voice strained but steady. "But the original damage assessment was… optimistic. The fracture lines ran deeper. The mold Master Forgepaw designed needs more material than we physically have. We can't stretch metal like dough." She held up her hands, calloused and blistered. "Even with everything Marya brought… it's just shy. By a hair's breadth, maybe, but a hair's breadth that won't hold under Zunesha's stride."
As if summoned by the admission of failure, a horrific screech tore through the chamber. From the partially reassembled equatorial ring Jean Bart and Hakuga had been welding, a shower of brilliant orange sparks erupted like malevolent fireflies. A deep, grinding shudder vibrated up through the volcanic glass floor, making tools rattle and Minks stumble.
"Clear the area!" Jean Bart bellowed, his deep voice booming as he yanked Hakuga back. Minks and pirates scrambled away from the shuddering ring section.
Pedro spat out the stub of his ever-present cigarette, grinding it under his heel on the ancient wood. "What in the Great Roots' name was that?" he snarled, his usual composure cracking.
One of Master Forgepaw's senior smiths, fur singed, looked mortified. "Apologies! The underlying gear teeth… they were more stripped than we saw. The temporary weld… it couldn't hold the test rotation stress…"
Before blame could be assigned, a new, jarring sound sliced through the aftermath of the grinding screech – a harsh, pulsating WHOOP-WHOOP-WHOOP that seemed to emanate from the walls themselves. It was an alarm, ancient and unfamiliar, its tone raw and urgent.
Wanda's ears flattened against her head. "Where is that coming from?" she hissed, turning frantically, her composure fraying. "The projection?"
Bepo, who had been nervously monitoring the pressure gauges near the Pole Star Lens, let out a choked gasp. His fur seemed to stand on end. "Oh no," he whispered, his voice thick with dread. "Oh no, no, no…"
Every head in the chamber snapped towards the massive, shimmering projection dominating one curved wall. The stylized map of the world still showed the terrifying black maw of the abyss dead ahead on Zunesha's path. But now, superimposed over the pulsing golden node representing Zou, was a cluster of rapidly blinking crimson runes none of them recognized. They pulsed in time with the alarm, casting an ominous, bloody light over the faces turned towards it.
Penguin squinted. "Bepo? What is it? What do those squiggles mean?"
Marya was already moving, pushing past Shachi and Uni. She strode right up to the base of the projection, her golden eyes scanning the unfamiliar glyphs swirling around the crimson alert. Her lips moved silently, tracing the harsh angles and curves. The harsh light played across the Heart Pirate emblem on her leather jacket and the focused planes of her face.
Nekomamushi landed beside her with a soft thud. "Direction, meow?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.
Marya didn't look away from the glyphs. Her finger traced a specific, jagged symbol. "Not a direction," she stated, her calm voice cutting through the alarm's blare. "A proximity warning. And a classification." Finally, she turned her head, meeting Nekomamushi's fierce gaze. Her eyes were hard as the star-metal they lacked. "Something big. Really big. And it's not avoiding us. It's coming straight for the point of impact." She gestured sharply at the converging paths on the map – Zou's golden node hurtling towards the abyss, and the new, unknown threat vector intersecting it head-on. "Straight ahead."
Without another word, Marya turned on her heel and strode towards the chamber's main exit tunnel. Her boot heels clicked decisively on the glass floor.
Atlas, wiping soot from his rust-red fur near the sparking gear, called after her, "Zaleska! Where are you going?"
Marya didn't slow. She didn't answer. As she walked, a visible aura began to shimmer around her – not light, but a darkening of the air itself, a faint distortion that hinted at immense, focused power. Haki. Her right reached for the worn leather scabbard over her shoulder, fingers curling around the hilt of Eternal Eclipse. The obsidian blade seemed to drink the harsh light around it, a sliver of absolute darkness waiting to be drawn.
Nekomamushi watched her go for a split second, then whirled, his voice a whip-crack of command that silenced the rising panic. "Guardians! Pedro, Wanda, Carrot, Raizo! With me, meow meow! Atlas, you too!" He pointed a clawed finger at the sweating, soot-streaked workers. "Master Forgepaw! Heart Pirates! You keep working! Find a way! Melt your tools if you have to, but make that gear hold! The rest of you," his gaze swept the remaining Minks, "secure the chamber! Brace for impact!" He didn't wait for acknowledgments. Like a white streak, he bounded after Marya, Pedro and the Guardians close on his heels, leaving the chamber filled with the blaring alarm, the smell of fear and burning sap, and the desperate clang of hammers trying to defy impossible odds as the first, faint grey light of dawn began to seep down the lightwell shaft above the central pool. Outside, something ancient and hungry stirred in the abyss, drawn to the colossal creature walking obliviously towards its maw.