Moonlight waned behind ragged clouds as Isshin Ashina stepped through the shattered shōji screens into the main chamber of Sakurayama Castle. His katana, Shura, glinted at his side, its black-Haki aura ebbing from the brutal work of slaughtering pirate officers. Only a handful of sconces burned now, casting tremulous light over ruined tatami mats, overturned lacquer tables, and a great dais at the room's far end—where, beneath a gilded arch, two figures awaited.
Atop the dais, a massive white-and-gold standard hung embroidered with a stylized hourglass—the emblem of Edward Weevil and Buckingham Stussy. Below it, a folding screen depicted a blood-red sun sinking behind Ashina's coastal cliffs. Isshin's heart tightened. He'd prepared for any foes, but none like these.
A woman draped in black crepe stood beside the dais. Buckingham Stussy, mother of "the man purported to be Whitebeard's son," radiated calm disdain. Her legs were elegantly crossed, one high-heeled boot tapping the dais's lacquer edge. She dabbed at a smear of bright lipstick in her small lacquer mirror, then tossed it aside. Her pale eyes glowed as Isshin approached.
Beside her loomed a colossus. Thirty feet of muscle and madness: Edward Weevil. He wore a pieced-together suit of Whitebeard's old armor—too large, the pauldrons drooping, the chestplate cracking as it stretched over swollen pectorals. His white mustache curved upward like crescent moons, wagging as he smirked. In his massive hand, he gripped a naginata taller than Isshin himself. He bent at the knees, toes braced on the dais's edge, as though ready to spring.
Isshin paused two steps from the dais, bowing deeply from the waist, one knee grit-ground against stone. His chest heaved with pain from broken ribs and a shattered collarbone. Haki still flickered low in his core—he needed every ounce of focus to stand.
"Buckingham Stussy. Edward Weevil," Isshin's voice was a gravely rasp. "Your time here ends as of this moment."
Stussy's mocking laughter rippled through the chamber like silk sliding over stone. "Time? Oh, dear samurai, you mistake us for seasonal tenants. We are the new lords of Ashina. Everything here belongs to Weevil—Whitebeard's Son."
Weevil straightened, spine cracking audibly. His bloodshot eyes narrowed on Isshin. "That's right, runt. Whitebeard's son comes to claim his birthright. Now step aside—or I'll break you like twig wood!"
Isshin met his gaze without flinching. "Your birthright was never meant for tyrants. Ashina's people suffer under your false claim."
Weevil's grin split his face. "They'd suffer more if I let you live. You smell like ashore—must have been in a fight. Weakness and failure cling to you."
Stussy rose, gliding down from her dais perch. Her heels tapped with soft authority. "Weevil, darling—best show him just how small his sword is." She tapped a ruby-studded riding crop on her palm. "He's wounded. Perfect."
With a thunderous boom, Weevil dropped from the dais. The floor trembled under his weight. He swung his naginata in a broad arc, its blade singing in the dim light. The strike whistled past Isshin's head, slicing a lacquer pillar in two and sending shards of wood skittering across the floor.
Isshin darted back, grit clenched through a wince of agony. Shura shot from its saya, coated in a thin sheen of black Haki. He spun on his heel and sliced diagonally—Haki-infused steel inlaid with cold precision—but Weevil's tremor-hardened armor deflected the blow, sparks showering.
"Too slow, rice‐picker!" Weevil bellowed, jabbing downward. Isshin rolled beneath the massive naginata, his ribs screaming with every shudder of movement. The cold stone floor cut at his palms as he sprang to feet.
Stussy circled them, black crepe swishing. "Come, my dear son—end the insect."
Earthen Roar
Weevil's eyes gleamed white. He advanced like an avalanche, each footstep sending new cracks along the stone. His naginata whistled in a sweeping strike aimed straight at Isshin's midsection.
Clang!
Shura snapped against the blade's haft. The shockwave sent Isshin stumbling back. Pain exploded along his fractured ribs like hot coals.
"You can't block me forever," Weevil hissed. He reared for another blow, the naginata's spike jagged with iron studs.
Isshin drew a trembling breath. His Observation Haki flagged Weevil's weight shifting. At the last moment, Isshin sidestepped and ran the length of the chamber, weaving between broken lacquer tables, Haki guiding his path.
Weevil pursued in relentless strides, eyes wild. He brought the naginata down once more—CRASH—cracking floor stones. Isshin dropped to one knee, Shura buried in the stone.
From beneath the swing, Isshin flashed a crouching slash aimed at Weevil's supporting leg. The Haki-infused edge bit through brittle reins and armor plates, scoring thick flesh. Weevil's howl rattled the rafters.
"Mommy, he hurt me!" the giant roared, staggering.
Stussy clapped her hands with delight. "Oh, how dramatic! Show him you're not so easily bruised."
A Mother's Cruelty
Weevil's wiry parents had taught him crudeness; his mother taught him cruelty. He lunged forward, feeding his pain into a frenzied counterstrike. The naginata whirled in a blur, Shura's tip barely slipping under the blade to catch Weevil's elbow.
SNICK!
Shura's Haki-blackened steel nicked a vein. Blood spurted. Weevil bellowed, staggering back as crimson dripped down his forearm.
"I didn't know you bled, Mommy's boy," Isshin whispered, voice low, though his own ribs flared with agony.
"Get him!" Stussy screamed, hurling the riding crop at Weevil's back.
Weevil caught the crop in his massive hand, ripping it apart mid-air. Splinters flew like shrapnel. He turned on Isshin, rage coalescing like a storm. Without hesitation, he slammed his elbow into Isshin's broken collarbone. A sickening CRACK echoed in the chamber.
Isshin's knees buckled. He dropped to one hand, Shura sinking into the floor. Pain lanced his entire left side. His Haki flickered, sputtering as darkness crept at the edges of his vision.
Weevil stamped forward, stomp echoing like doom-laden thunder.
"Your Ashina spirit—is nothing!" he snarled. He reared and swung horizontally.
Dragon's Fall
Isshin, forced to his knees, had only a fraction of time to lie down and use Shura's hilt to block Weevil's crushing blow. Their Haki-imbued armors clashed with a sound like mountain stone shattering. The naginata's haft snapped the koma into splintered shards, sending violence echoing through the royal hall.
With a guttural roar, Weevil pulled Shura aside, revealing Isshin's side. He drove his free hand into Isshin's gut. The samurai's eyes rolled as searing agony stole his breath. He coughed blood, body going limp.
Stussy glided forward, lips curled. "Is that all? My sweet can't finish a meal?"
Weevil let out a low, satisfied grunt. He swung his massive arm, scooping Isshin up by the chest, as though lifting a feathery doll. Isshin's weight felt like lead on the giant's palm. Eyes rolling, Isshin stared up, blood trickling from his mouth.
"Please… die quietly," Weevil growled, striding toward the shattered window on the opposite wall.
The window framed a cliffside drop that stretched hundreds of feet into jagged rocks below. Wind howled faintly from the precipice.
Isshin's Haki sputtered, clinging to life—the spirit that refused to break. He tried to summon the last shred of strength to speak, but only a gurgle escaped.
Weevil gripped Isshin's kimono. "Sleep, Ashina samurai. Your chapter ends here."
With a savage twist, Weevil threw Isshin out the broken window.
WHOOSH!
Isshin ricocheted off ledges—bone snapping against stone—plummeting down the cliff in a blur of agony and dreams of victory. His vision faded, darkness claiming him.
The chamber fell silent. Stussy let out a satisfied sigh, brushing invisible dust from her gown.
"Another toy destroyed," she murmured as she rose, her shadow sliding over Weevil's colossal form. "But there are always more, aren't there, darling?" She curled a pale fingertip on the giant's armored leg.
Weevil merely grunted in satisfaction, the blood on his naginata dripping onto the dais, staining the hourglass standard.