GASP!
Malakai’s eyes snapped open.
He jolted up, clutching his chest, breathing in ragged, panicked gasps.
His heart thundered in his ears.
The memories of the earlier incident surged through his mind and his hand instinctively reached to his chest, where Zeronis had stabbed him.
But there was nothing.
‘No pain?’
He blinked, stunned. The pain was gone. Not just the wound, all of it. Even the unbearable agony from the aftermath of the Devil’s Fruit was gone.
Instead, his body felt… incredible.
“What… is going on?”
Malakai muttered, his gaze sweeping the room.
Then his eyes froze.
A man sat a few feet away, looking at him with a calm, gentle smile.
Silence fell.
Even after being noticed, the man just… watched. He didn’t speak. Didn’t move.
Then the realization slammed into Malakai.
He had been unconscious. In front of a stranger!
His legs tensed, and he tried to stand, but standing was the last thing he did.
His body shot upward with blinding speed, almost crashing into the ceiling.
His eyes widened in shock, and he twisted midair, landing on the ground with surprisingly nimble ease.
“What the hell…”
He stared at his arms, stunned, then scanned his body.
“This is… my body?”
He took a breath, then jumped again. This time, he barely used any strength.
But he still soared.
Higher than his old self ever could.
His body felt light. Too light. Weightless.
‘No… not just that.’
He turned to the wall, raised his fist, and punched.
Even before his hand landed, he could feel it.
His fist moved fast. Too fast for an unevolved.
BAM!
It struck like a cannon blast, sending deep cracks spiderwebbing across the wall.
Malakai stared at his hand.
He didn’t understand. He couldn’t.
‘What the hell is happening?’
“Are you done?”
The voice snapped him from his thoughts.
The man was still there, still seated in the center of the room.
‘Shit. I almost forgot about him!’
He had been so absorbed with assessing the changes to his body that he had almost forgotten about the stranger in the room with him!
Malakai glanced at him again, this time taking a full look.
The man was… ordinary.
He didn’t look like he belonged in a world of death and chaos.
He was middle-aged. Maybe in his forties. Bald head with a shiny crown. Chubby frame. Round belly. Soft arms with stubby fingers.
He didn’t look like someone who had ever picked up a weapon in his entire life, maybe a kitchen knife.
But when Malakai met his eyes, he paused.
There was something about them.
A kind, gentle warmth. The same warmth he had only ever seen on one person, his mother. They bore no resemblance, but in their world, finding a person with such kind eyes was rare.
“Oh! I didn’t mean to interrupt,” the man said quickly, waving his hands. “Please, carry on—”
“Where am I? Who are you?” Malakai cut in, his tone sharp. As he realized his earlier mistake, his entire body had gone guarded.
The man cleared his throat. “Ah, yes. My manners.”
He smiled again.
“You’re currently inside the Trial World, created by the Life’s Essence.”
He placed a hand on his chest and bowed slightly.
“My name is Valentine Hataway. And I… was the last Successor of Life.”
Malakai gave the man a leveled stare, his eyes narrowing.
Seeing this, Valentine offered a wry smile. “Ah, I’m confusing you even more, aren’t I? Sorry about that!”
He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “I’d hate to do this while you’re standing. Why don’t you take a seat? Your injuries just healed, after all.”
Malakai met Valentine’s eyes. They radiated nothing but warmth and kindness.
However, if living in the Sanguine Clan had taught him anything, it was to never trust anyone. Ever.
Valentine cleared his throat again. “I’m sorry for imposing—”
“Stop apologizing,” Malakai snapped. “And just tell me what’s going on.”
Valentine froze mid-sentence. “Right… I’m sor—”
He stopped himself this time as a chill suddenly washed over the room.
Valentine didn’t feel the cold, but he saw the eyes. Glacier.
Like he was being stared at by death itself.
He clamped a hand over his mouth, trying hard not to say anything more, and began nodding repeatedly.
Then, noticing Malakai’s gaze growing even colder, he quickly dropped his hand and sighed.
“What do you know about how the Dome was formed?” he asked.
‘Dome?’
To Malakai and every remaining human on earth, there was no mistaking that word.
It was their world. Their home. Their shield. Their sky.
The only thing that kept them alive.
“The first man who fought against the darkness sacrificed himself to create the Dome,” Malakai replied immediately.
Valentine puffed out his chest in pride. “That’s right! That’s me!”
Malakai’s eyes narrowed again as he looked Valentine up and down.
Large belly. Chubby frame. Soft hands that didn’t look like they’d ever held a weapon.
“You’re joking,” Malakai said.
Valentine’s face flushed red.
“I’ll have you know,” he began, bristling, “you’re speaking to the first warrior who stood against the darkness! Back then I was tall, fit, and incredibly brave—”
“Alright,” Malakai cut in, uninterested.
“Alright?” Valentine said, baffled.
Malakai nodded. “You’re the man who created the Dome. Okay. I also recognize your voice, it was deeper before. You’ve been the one guiding us through this place. So, tell me: what exactly is this place?”
He stepped forward as he continued.
“You said you were the last Successor of Life. Is this whole trial meant to select another successor? Now that I’ve won… does that make me the new one?
“And what does it even mean to be a ‘Successor of Life’?”
Valentine blinked.
Stunned.
Malakai had dissected everything, connected each piece, and laid out every question to confirm his hypothesis.
Not a single word wasted.
Valentine gave a short, breathy laugh. “You’re… sharp.”
Then he shook his head. “Alright. I’ll start from the beginning.”
Suddenly, the entire hall shimmered, then dissolved, replaced by a vast, black canvas.