One Piece: Rise of Valoria

Three months after his first match with the power of the Zoan Dragon Fruit disguised as a Lizard Fruit, William had become a seasoned and undefeated fighter in the slave arena. The Celestial Dragons adored him for his brutality, and Master Callen boasted of his prized warrior's unparalleled strength. William had mastered hiding the full extent of his power, using only as much as necessary to win each fight. 

Now, his mind focused solely on survival. The once-laughing, carefree boy from Ohara had become a stone-faced warrior, beaten down by years of cruelty. There was no room for compassion here. Emotion was a weakness, and in this world of chains and blood, weakness meant death.

Yet, something changed the day the sisters arrived.

It was a humid afternoon, the air thick with tension. The slaves were gathered in the main plaza of Mary Geoise, the heart of the Celestial Dragons' world. This was where the new arrivals were paraded for all to see, inspected like cattle before being thrown into whatever fate awaited them. William was among the crowd, standing at the back, arms crossed, watching without much interest.

The gates of the holding pen creaked open, and three girls were pushed out into the harsh sunlight. They were terrified, their eyes wide with fear and confusion as they stumbled forward, shackled in heavy chains. The crowd of slaves muttered, glancing at the newcomers with a mixture of sympathy and indifference. But William remained emotionless, his gaze cold as he sized up the girls.

The tallest of the three was only a child, maybe thirteen years old, with long black hair cascading down her back. Her two younger sisters clung to her side—one with hair as green as leaves, the other a short, stocky girl with orange hair. The three of them were trembling, and their eyes darted around, taking in the monstrous opulence of Mariejois with terror.

The Celestial Dragons, as they always did, looked down from their balconies, sneering at the new additions to their collection.

"Another set of girls for the entertainment," one of the Dragons laughed, raising a jeweled hand in amusement. "They look so fragile, don't they?"

"Fragile now, but they'll be broken soon enough," said another, their voice dripping with cruelty.

The girls, who were none other than **Boa Hancock** and her sisters, **Sandersonia** and **Marigold**, huddled together, their bodies tense and shaking under the weight of the chains. Hancock, the eldest, tried to stay strong for her sisters, but the fear was plain on her face. She had never seen anything like this—never imagined such cruelty. The world of Celestial Dragons was a nightmare beyond their darkest dreams.

"Where are they taking us?" Marigold whispered, her voice trembling.

"I... I don't know," Hancock replied, her voice tight as she scanned the leering faces above them. "But we have to stay together. Whatever happens... we stay together."

William watched them from afar, his face emotionless. He had seen this too many times before—new slaves, fresh and full of terror, thrust into the nightmare that was Mary Geoise. He knew their fate would be brutal. They were young, but that didn't matter here. Nothing mattered except the amusement of the Celestial Dragons.

As the girls were dragged toward the preparation chambers for new slaves, Hancock's eyes briefly locked with William's. For a fleeting second, he saw the desperation and fear in her gaze, the plea for help, for some sort of escape. But William's expression didn't change. He had learned long ago that mercy had no place in this world. It was each for their own, and any distraction from that single-minded focus would mean death.

Without a word, William turned away, his thoughts already shifting back to his next match in the arena.

---

Over the next few days, William caught glimpses of Hancock and her sisters in the slave quarters. The girls were being trained, much like he had been, for their eventual role in the arena. William had heard whispers among the other slaves that the three girls were to be used as fighters—tools for the Celestial Dragons' entertainment, just like him.

Every now and then, he would see them in the training grounds, their fragile bodies bruised and battered from the harsh drills and punishments. Hancock was the strongest of the three, always trying to shield her sisters from the worst of it. But even she was no match for the cruelty of their captors.

One day, as William passed through the courtyard, he saw them again. Hancock was struggling to hold up a heavy wooden beam as one of the guards lashed her with a whip. Her legs trembled, but she refused to let the beam fall, her jaw clenched in defiance. Her sisters stood nearby, their faces pale with fear, watching helplessly.

The sight stirred something deep within William, something he had thought long buried. For a brief moment, he remembered Robin—the only friend he had ever had, and the only person he had ever cared about. She had been taken from him on that fateful day in Ohara, and he hadn't been able to protect her. He had sworn to never let anyone get that close again, to never let himself be weak.

But now, as he watched Hancock struggle, he felt the faintest flicker of something—pity, perhaps. Or maybe it was a distant echo of the boy he once was, the boy who still cared about protecting others.

He quickly pushed the feeling aside. There was no room for that here. These girls were just like everyone else—a means to an end. He had his own survival to worry about. If they survived, it would be their own doing. He had already lost too much to care about anyone else.

---

As the weeks passed, William occasionally crossed paths with Hancock and her sisters. They were slowly being broken down by their training, just as he had been. Their faces became more hollow, their eyes dull with exhaustion and despair. But there was still a flicker of defiance in Hancock's gaze, a fire that hadn't been fully extinguished.

One evening, as William returned from another victorious fight in the arena, he saw Hancock sitting alone, her sisters sleeping beside her. She looked up as he approached, her eyes narrowing.

"You don't care, do you?" she asked suddenly, her voice low but filled with bitterness. "You're just like them. You fight for them. You kill for them."

William paused, looking at her. He didn't respond, but the coldness in his eyes said enough.

Hancock glared at him, her fists clenched. "We'll never be like you."

William turned away without a word, disappearing into the shadows.

He didn't care about the sisters' arrival, or their suffering. He had his own battles to fight, and in this world, there was no room for weakness—no room for bonds.

At least, that's what he told himself.