… Aidan Quinn
They say that in the desert, everything gets swallowed by sand.
Cities, stories, men.
Today was Rain Dinners' turn.
That first attack — the "Sables" — was like slamming a door before pulling out a knife. It wasn't meant to kill. Not yet. It was a message. One of those theatrical openers the powerful love, just to remind everyone that the table has turned.
That the game is over.
The sand cracked in the air, spinning and writhing like a panicked beast. It tried to surround me, cut me, swallow me whole. But all it could do... was stop. Infinity did what it always does: turned fury into uselessness. And right there, in front of me, that attack died with all the dignity of a leaky bucket in a hurricane.
I didn't move. Just kept my fingers raised and let the "Red" blow. The explosion shattered the silence like glass. Clean, sharp, calculated. Maps flew like leaves in a storm. Rugs lifted off the floor, twisting into mini-tornadoes. The wind rushed through the casino's halls like the building itself had just realized it was about to collapse.
I saw the exact moment Crocodile's eyes changed. He spun with the blast, riding the shockwave like it was a wave. Landed hard on the far end of the room, his heavy coat whipping around him, golden hook catching the light.
And I still hadn't moved.
"Akuma no Mi, huh?" he asked, eyes narrowing like blades. "Which one?"
"Who knows?"
He didn't like that.
He came at me hard. His body dissolved into sand, his whole arm turning into a spiraling blade. It was... pretty, I'll admit. Efficient technique, brute force dressed up as elegance.
But again — didn't touch me. The blade of sand snapped at the air and froze against Infinity. The force spread like it hit an invisible wall. No sound, just the vacuum of failure.
Crocodile backed off, his eyes still burning with frustration.
"Tch— What kind of Akuma no Mi is this?!"
"The kind you'll never get to eat", I replied with a half-smile. "Sorry."
Lie. I wasn't sorry at all.
But he didn't need to know that.
Let him keep thinking it was some unknown Devil Fruit. A Paramecia so busted it didn't even show up in the damn encyclopedia. Fewer questions for me, more frustration for him.
I started walking slowly. Each step louder than the last, crunching over the shattered floor. The walls were already wrecked. Columns? Cracked. Tables? Gone. The wine? Exploded like expensive blood. It was like tearing down a house of cards — but with fists and sand.
I fired another Red — right at the floor in front of him. The blast flung what was left of the furniture into the air. Dust, debris, chunks of marble. And when it all settled… nothing. No body. No smoking remains.
Just sand flowing.
He broke apart before impact, reformed intact several meters away. And I saw it — with the Six Eyes — every grain moving, every molecular twitch, every flaw and compensation in his Logia phase-shifting.
It was... perfect.
The building couldn't take it. The shock broke the structure. Columns crumbled, cracks split the ceiling. Gravity finally joined the fight and the second floor of Rain Dinners started collapsing like a badly built sandcastle.
I moved through the debris. Infinity wrapped around me like a calm bubble. Nothing touched me. Not a scratch. Not a speck.
Crocodile didn't seem to care. He glided through the destruction like a dry ghost, a sandstorm in human shape. His hook spun on his wrist like a promise.
"Your attacks don't work on me, tourist", he said, voice echoing from the dust cloud.
"And you talk too much for someone who thinks they're invincible", I shot back, landing softly on a cracked beam.
Time for a different approach.
No tricks. No distance.
Just fists — raw, close, necessary.
I channeled cursed energy into my body, feeling that dark pulse spread through every fiber like a drum pounding from the inside out. My legs coiled tight like snapped cables. The ground groaned under the pressure, cracking with a sharp pop — more warning than result. In two steps, I was gone — moving so fast the sound came after, like the air was still trying to catch up with the idea of my speed.
My fist tore through space.
And again.
Nothing but sand, like I was fighting the concept of absence itself.
Crocodile didn't hesitate. He was the kind of opponent who had done that move a thousand times before. He was used to being untouchable — feared, not challenged. He reacted with cold precision, like a seasoned king in a bloody chess match: a blade of solid sand shot from the ground, fast and angled to pierce through my chest from below.
But Infinity was there. The sand froze midair like it had hit glass, vibrating for a second before crumbling into loose grains without even touching me.
We stepped back at the same time. Two untouched bodies. Just smoke and silent frustration between us.
My attacks passed through him. His died before reaching me.
A stalemate between strangers.
Even with cursed energy, I couldn't deny a Logia's intangibility.
So... it wasn't about energy interference.
There had to be another reason Haki worked. Why it was the counter to Akumas no Mi.
Maybe something tied to the Akuma no Mi themselves.
Crocodile stepped forward. His hook spun slowly, but that wasn't what caught my attention — it was the look in his eyes. The look of someone starting to wonder if he'd brought enough sand to bury a problem that just kept laughing.
"You look frustrated", he said, voice raspier now, almost teasing. "Is that new for you?"
I gave a lazy half-smile.
"No. I just don't like playing with sand", I shrugged.
He frowned but didn't answer. Just moved forward — and the dance started again.
Another exchange. More explosions. More slashes. More sandstorms. The floor crumbling beneath our feet. The ceiling groaning. The entire structure — Crocodile's pride — starting to collapse under the weight of two walking design flaws fighting in the same space.
And then we blew out the rest of the wall.
The building groaned, the foundation cracked like a broken bone and then… everything fell.
Rain Dinners collapsed in on itself. A cascade of stone, glass, and buried promises. The casino turned to ruin. A former monument to a villain's arrogance.
We found ourselves outside, on the blistering sand of Alabasta, no more walls. Smoke rose slowly from the rubble behind us like a poorly written epitaph.
The air was still. The sky — a sick, polished-blue — shining like a mirror cleaned too much. No clouds. No sound. Just the quiet judgment of the world.
And then came the theatrics.
Crocodile spread his arms like he was about to give a speech. His voice heavy, dramatic, with that built-in arrogance of someone who genuinely thinks the environment is part of their character sheet.
"You can't hurt me", he took a step forward. "Your efforts are pointless. And we're in the desert."
He paused, building up to the final act.
"I'm invincible here!"
Ah. That sweet, poisonous confidence — dripping from his mouth like expired honey.
Was he this arrogant when he met Whitebeard?
I crossed my arms, relaxed expression on my face, like I was watching an angry dog barking from behind a fence.
"As far as I remember", I started, cracking my shoulders, "you can't touch me either." I tilted my head, voice calm and low. "And while both of our powers have workarounds... there's one difference you haven't figured out yet."
Pointing out flaws has always been an art — and I'm basically a professional critic.
"I know yours. You're still trying to guess mine."
Domain Amplification to suppress techniques, Domain Expansion for guaranteed effects and the Inverted Spear of Heaven.
None of those existed in this world. None that Crocodile could ever use.
He didn't like that. That scowl? Almost felt like a gift.
I raised my hand slowly — no threat — just showing something rare. My palm open, fingers relaxed.
Then I closed my fist.
A dark shimmer lit up around it, spreading slowly like ink dissolving in water.
"Armament Haki", I let the words hang like a funeral bell. "Still weak, but... it works."
The energy was unstable — like a flickering light in a dark hallway — but it was there.
I had bought it with [Added Potential], cost me 5 credits. It was just a raw, early version with no refinement. The only reason I could make any use of it was because of the absurd control the Six Eyes gave me — since Haki was still a form of energy.
Even so… it was weak.
But it worked. And for me, that was more than enough.
Crocodile didn't say anything, but the smile disappeared.
And then, without rush, I lifted my chin and pointed to the sky.
"And then there's the obvious."
His brow twitched, just slightly.
"Liquids", I continued. "That's why it doesn't rain in Alabasta, right?" My voice had turned almost bored.
"You control sand— but moisture… moisture breaks you. You keep this place dry because you have to. Because if it rains… you're just a pile of useless mud."
His breathing changed — heavier, sharper.
And that's when I really smiled.
Not a grin. Not teeth.
Just inevitability.
"And it just so happens… I've got a weather goddess on my side."
And up above, high over both of us, the blue sky began to darken.
... Nico Robin
The weather shifted like a verdict.
No warning, no buildup. It didn't come with distant thunder or the slow bend of wind. The rain just fell — heavy, undeniable, inevitable. Like an ancient punishment. As if the sky, after years of forced silence, had suddenly remembered that this land had been forgotten — and decided, coldly, that it was time to strike back.
Each drop hit harder than normal. Slamming into the sand with raw fury, sinking in, erasing footprints, dissolving the very idea of permanence. The sound — constant now — wasn't a storm. It was a war. Not between armies, but between nature and arrogance. The drought resisted like an old, tired queen. The rain fell like her heir, taking back the crown. The desert didn't fight. It simply gave way.
Robin stood still, partially sheltered under a broken stone archway. The world around her melted into water and dust, but she just watched. Water ran down her hair, soaked her clothes, pooled around her feet — but none of it mattered. Not now. What mattered was the scene forming in front of her — the symmetry of collapse, the sudden fall of something that, minutes ago, seemed untouchable.
None of this was natural. She knew the moment she felt the air.
The moisture didn't carry the freshness of a seasonal storm. It carried pressure. Electricity. Like the world had shrunk. The clouds didn't appear — they took over. The sky didn't darken — it shut. Alabasta hadn't been surprised by a weather shift. It had been claimed by it.
As if someone had called rain by name — and it obeyed.
And so, it rained. In Alabasta.
Robin couldn't remember the last time she'd seen it. Maybe it was a lie to say she remembered the first. For regular people — the ones who died of thirst without ever knowing why — it must've felt like a miracle.
To her… it felt like justice.
Crocodile stood soaked, and this time, he didn't bother hiding the discomfort. His coat — usually a symbol of control and dominance — now hung heavy on his shoulders like stone. The sand under his feet wasn't a weapon anymore. It was mud.
His kingdom was slipping through the cracks in his own body.
"What did you do?" he asked, voice low, dragged out — as if trying to pull authority from a place that had run dry.
Aidan looked up and let the rain fall around him. Around — because it didn't touch him. His body was wrapped in an invisible bubble. Bone-dry. Like the water refused to get close.
"I leveled the game."
Robin watched closely. Not just out of curiosity — but because there was meaning in it. Crocodile had built his entire plan around the absence of rain. Around the certainty of dryness. Around the idea that the desert bowed to him. And now, in front of everyone, what was hurting him wasn't a weapon.
Wasn't a sword, wasn't a rebellion.
It was water.
And the man who brought it.
She only looked away when she felt the vibration under her feet — subtle but firm. Familiar.
She knew what was coming before she even saw it.
When she turned, she confirmed: Mr. 1 was emerging from the rubble — tall, relentless, his body stiff like steel. The silent enforcer. The man who never hesitated. Water poured down his frame like it didn't matter, and his eyes were locked straight ahead.
He was coming to protect Crocodile.
To eliminate the threat.
Robin hesitated.
She knew the orders. She knew where she was supposed to stand. She knew what kind of loyalty they expected from her.
But she also knew Crocodile. Knew what lay behind that smile.
And now… she was starting to see what lay behind the other man.
Even if she wouldn't admit it — especially not to herself — she was weighing the two.
Then the sky screamed with light.
A lightning bolt tore through the storm — bright, violent — slamming into the ground with the force of a divine hammer. The explosion of light and sound shook everything. For a moment, the whole world blinked — the rain, the desert, the shattered remains of Rain Dinners — lit up like a flash of memory.
And at the center of it all, she came down.
Ororo.
The woman with white hair and dark skin, surrounded by living lightning, floated like she'd been born inside the storm. Her eyes shone with the same fury as the sky.
She landed softly between Mr. 1 and Aidan. Her presence was simple absolute.
She didn't speak. She didn't need to.
The lightning spoke for her. The sound of the rain backed it up.
As if to say: this is as far as you go.
Robin felt the balance shift. Not just on the battlefield.
Crocodile had been untouchable for years — indestructible.
But now…
Now he was being surrounded.
... Jean Grey
The first drop hit with a sound so clear it felt out of place.
Then came the second, the third — and in an instant, the storm took over everything. Inside the main tent, the leaders of the rebel army stood up like they'd just heard a miracle.
Some rushed to the entrance. Others just stood frozen, wide-eyed, mouths slightly open, trying to figure out if it was real. When they finally stepped outside and saw the rain falling over the cracked desert, their expressions shifted. One man started laughing, nervously. A woman dropped to her knees in the mud, arms raised to the sky. Another shouted something — and then everyone was shouting.
Crying, smiling, hugging without even knowing why.
The rain wasn't just water. It was the end of a punishment — and Jean… felt all of it.
The emotions flowed through her like an unchained river. Pure joy, relief, hope... a warmth that didn't come from the skin but from the soul of every person out there.
She didn't cry, but she smiled softly. She knew what it meant. She could feel who was behind it.
"Ororo..." she whispered, like speaking to herself.
Of course it was her.
The storm, made flesh.
Jean didn't need to see it. The pressure in the air was Ororo's signature — subtle, but absolute. She had done what needed to be done.
Just like they all knew she would — because no one could handle Aidan when he was in one of those moods.
And now, outside, the desert was blooming. In water, in mud, in hope.
… Rogue (Anna Marie)
The heat was unbearable. Until the sky finally had a crisis of conscience… and cracked wide open.
First drop landed right in her eye — of course — the second hit her shoulder, and then the whole damn universe decided to turn on the faucet. In seconds, Alubarna turned into a city-wide shower. Dust, sweat, sand? Gone. Now it was just mud, lightning, and distant screaming.
Rogue didn't even have to look up to know what it meant. Aidan had found that Crocodile guy.
"Took ya long enough, Sugah…" she muttered, flipping her soaked hair back with a quick snap of her neck. "Thought you'd waste your whole damn life in that casino."
The body of one of the Baroque Works agents hit the ground at her feet — out cold, soaked, probably dreaming of dentists.
She'd touched him for maybe five seconds. Maybe a bit more. Just enough to drain his strength, reflexes, and some weird power that involved... stinky balls? Whatever — it didn't matter. Now it was hers, at least for a while.
"Thanks for the donation", she said, adjusting her torn glove like she was getting ready for round two.
Two more showed up right after. One chick had spikes growing out of her arms — super original — and the other basically turned into a mole. Rogue looked at both like she was deciding which one was dumber.
She didn't waste time.
She spun on the spot and drove her boot into the spiky one's gut hard enough to knock the air clean out of her lungs — and probably send a love letter straight to her liver. The mole girl tried to sneak up from behind — rookie mistake. Rogue spun, grabbed her face barehanded, and smirked.
"You should've learned from the others. No touchin'."
Her energy drained fast, like water down a sink. Rogue felt the woman's body twitch, eyes roll back — and then she dropped.
Around them, chaos raged on. Rain pounded like stones, thunder shook the windows, the ground quaked. But Rogue? She was focused. Doing what needed to be done. Holding the line. Proving she could use her damn powers without losing control.
She took a deep breath with every touch. The power came in waves. Heavy, weird, intoxicating. It gave her headaches, nausea — but she endured it.
Because he believed in her. And hell, she was starting to believe in herself too.
That's when the shiver hit. The kind that starts at the neck and slides all the way down your spine.
It wasn't the cold — it was a presence. Something moving behind her — silent, dense, full of purpose.
The shadow slid along the wall like living ink. A shape stepped out of the dark. Wet cloak. Eyes glowing violet. That calm, steady walk like always.
Raven.
Arriving like a bad omen — or maybe the final warning to whoever was on the other side.
The shadows stretched around her body — turning into blades, chains, living shields.
Rogue didn't need to ask, they both already knew.
The time for talk was over.
It was time to break everything.
And there, in the middle of the storm — with the city drowning in chaos and war spreading like wildfire — two girls who couldn't be more different, one born of shadow and the other cursed by touch, fought side by side.