literature

The truth.

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This is set in Las Noches, Hueco Mundo, Bleachyverse. All asoicated characters belong to Tite Kubo. The OC:s TREA and Miska belong to ILMB87, and I use them with permission.


TREA woke up. His mind- or rather, circuits- were low in activity, and his surroundings seemed a bit unclear to him. Was that… blood?! Blood, all over his beautiful arrancar uniform? Again. He seemed to be waking up in this state a lot, these days. He looked around him. His room. He was lying on the floor, staring out into nothingness. He looked around. The door was not quite closed. Odd; he always took care to close it. He liked his privacy. There was a slight trace of half dried blood leading from the door, to him. He took a moment to get a feel for his body? Was he hurt? No. Besides, he wouldn't bleed; he was an android. Androids run on…
He wasn't sure what androids ran on. Oil? Silicon? Grease? Maybe cake, in his case? He ought to ask Szayel-sama. It was probably something mundane, like electricity.
But then, if it was not his blood, then the logical conclusion would be-
His artificial mind shut down that train of thought, refusing to comply. Well, never mind that, he thought. Mechanically, he got up to his feet and undressed. He had some trouble removing his uniform; the reddish, sticky substance covering it made it harder to remove it- it stuck to his skin, and only with some effort did he manage to wrench it off. What was that red, sticky goo, anyway?
He tossed the uniform into the laundry chute, along with his boxers, and walked into the shower. Maybe a warm, cleansing shower could clear his mind? It seemed like the right thing to do.
So TREA showered, far longer than necessary. As he did so, his mind became foggier and foggier; everything was so… unclear. By the time he was done, had put on a new uniform and washed his floor, he had forgotten all about the fact that he had woken covered in the blood of half a dozen hapless arrancar.


Some two hours later, TREA, being his typical cheerful and lecherous self, took a little walk to one of the control rooms. It had a lot of cameras; it was one of the many security camera rooms which watched over all of Las Noches. It had so many cameras, in fact, that you could borrow a screen or two, without anybody noticing, for watching a good adult movie- one with a valid and interesting plot of course; it was not as if he lacked taste in his choice of porn. He looked over the titles of the movies he had brought with him. All the latest of all the good porn, from his sandal-hat-wearing supplier in the real world. It had cost him, but it was worth it. Today was a day as good as any to have a little dirty movie marathon, and the best part of it was, no-one ever cared to check this room. All cameras were automatic anyway, and barring the occasional maintenance team, nobody ever came to these rooms, deeming them too boring to set foot in. Of course, few of them had the inventiveness and intuitive technological capabilities that TREA had, and that was just the way he liked it.
He took a quick look at the different titles. After skimming through them, he decided on a random title, took out the disk, and put it next to the recorder. Then, he remembered- he had almost forgotten the cake! Wonderful, delicious fudge and banana cake, topped with little chocolate sprinkles. It was a miracle what the arrancar chefs could do, and no one porn session was complete without a cake to eat as a snack. Carefully, he took the cake out of its box. He could feel his mouth watering at the sight of it. Taking out a plate from the box, he cut out a healthy dose of cake, and put it on the plate. He sat down, and without really looking, he grabbed for the disc, and inserted it into the DVD player, while he chewed down that first, blissful bite of the cake. Whoever said cake was a lie had been horribly wrong. Cake was the truth, the way and the life!
It was odd, though- the TV screen was not emitting the typical cheesy intro music there usually was. In fact, it wasn't emitting much of a sound at all. He frowned. Was it somehow the wrong disc? His supplier had not failed him earlier. He spun the chair round, and took a look at the screen in question. Ah. He had accidentally inserted another disc, one already lying there. The movie itself was untouched. So, now he was simply viewing some run-of-the-mill security tape. 'What a drag.' He thought. He moved to replace the disk, when he spotted his handsome self on the screen. Deciding he could just watch what he was about to do, he sat back. He could just put in the movie he was going to watch, any time.
'It's funny' he thought. 'I don't recall being in that particular location on Las Noches before.'
The TREA on screen walked lazily down the hallway. There was a kind of swagger to his steps, as if he was making the most of something as mundane as walking. Intrigued, TREA looked closer. 'I don't walk like that.' He thought. 'Maybe I was drunk? Except, I don't get drunk. Weird.' He couldn't quite tell from the angle the camera was at, but it looked like there was a large stain on the left leg of the uniform of on-screen TREA. Then, as he saw the camera follow the steps of the figure on the screen, he saw a short arrancar in a corner. He looked like nothing more than a boy, and he brandished a broken zanpakuto with a shaking hand. His other hand, upon closer inspection, looked destroyed.
'Maybe I was helping him?'
No such thing. Once TREA had reached within three feet of the boy, he rammed his fist into his stomach- no, through his stomach. And he laughed as he did so. The completely helpless, frightened look of that unnamed arrancar boy, and the twisted grin on his- no, that thing's face- was enough to drain all colour from TREA's face. Without even noticing, the plate, still full with cake, fell to the floor and broke with a small 'clatter'.
He could not unsee this. He could not NOT watch it. He was as paralyzed, continuing to see what his eyes could not possibly see. Just as it seemed like the figure on the screen was about to play with its prey, it turned towards the camera. With lightning speed, it lunged. A fist came down, and for a few seconds, there was nothing but a black and white buzz on the screen. But one thing he had seen- that vile creature had HIS face. A twisted, grinning madman's face, but his face. And he had shining red eyes, whose gaze burned at his soul- if he had one.
The black and white buzz ended, and yet again he saw the figure, from another perspective this time. Its uniform was, for the most part, covered in blood. And it was not alone.
It was… talking, to Miska. Dear, sweet beloved little Miska- and IT was speaking to her. A monster, daring to lay its filthy hands on her! The shock gave way to rage, as it moved closer to her. It was touching her, and though she kept a straight face and a strong posture, he could tell she was afraid. It reached under her shirt, and-

"NO!" he cried with rage, and rammed his fist through the screen.
He was panting. He did not need to breathe, but still he did. What was this nightmare? Did he have an evil twin, a look-alike created by Szayel-sama that he did not know about? If so, why hadn't he told him? Why would he not know? This had to be resolved. He had to know what was going on!
He stormed out, trampling the delicious banana and fudge cake without even noticing.


As always, Szayel was burning the midnight oil. It seemed to have become a normal state of being; work just piled up. He would rather have a good night's sleep; though he was obsessed with his scientific endeavours, he was also a man of reason. And reason stated that you were less efficient and more liable to commit serious mistakes when deprived of sleep. Still, this one project just couldn't wait- Aizen-sama had set a short deadline for him. 'I swear' he thought. 'I'm positive he doesn't need this. He's just testing me, the bastard!'
Well, at least this time, there was no Gin to bother him and make fatal mistakes causing TREA to malfunction.

"Szayel-sama."

Speak of the devil. TREA showing up to bother him was, if you looked for that silver lining, a lesser evil than having Gin around, but he was still an eyesore. And what else, as its creator he could order him around. Good thing.

"Not now, you blasted android!" He snapped. "I'm on the verge of a breakthrough here, and I have no need for your foolish foolishness- err, antics."

"I'm afraid this cannot wait." The android replied. Irritated, Szayel paused and took note of his tone. He sounded dead serious; nothing like that incessant babbling in that ridiculously cheerful voice of his. He looked up.

"What is so important that you have to come and disrupt my focus at such a critical moment? I am in a foul mood, android, and you're-"

"Did you make another one of me? Another android like me, without telling me?"

"Another--- say what?!" There was a sinking feeling in Szayel's gut.

"Another one of me."

"Of course I didn't, you cretin! Now, if you're quite finished-"

"Then what did I see slaughter an arrancar with its fist? What did I see harass and threaten Miska? It had my face." The android's voice trembled; his synthetic emotions were obviously in turmoil.

"I've no idea what you're talking about."
Szayel's reply was less than convincing; his voice fluctuated, and his tone had changed completely. Szayel was not a good liar. In his life, conversation was simple: either order your subordinates around, or cower before the mightier as needed.

"DON'T- Don't lie, Szayel-sama!" Szayel flinched a little at TREA's raised voice; he had never seen the android angry. This reminded him a bit too much of his malfunctioning side.

"I don't know what you think you have seen" he said carefully, "but I wonder just where you could possibly find anything to support such an idea."

"The fifth camera surveillance room. I accidentally grabbed the wrong disc, and I saw it." TREA stated flatly. His voice was even, and told of a no-nonsense attitude.

Szayel cursed roundly inside of his mind. WHY, oh WHY hadn't they made sure to erase all files containing footage of Mal-TREA? As per routine, all surveillance footage was deleted every two weeks, with anything noteworthy stored in his personal computer. The last little episode the android had had was less than a day behind. He rued the day he had become so lax- they had all agreed, and Aizen had supported it, that the android's little secret should remain just that- a secret, at least to himself. The human girl, Miska, had not been eager to comply- he had suspected she would oppose, and had already begun to think of ways of dispose of her- but in the end, she had complied. Villainously subtle death threats seemed to have that effect on humans. Somehow, he suspected that scientific pragmatism- which was his reason- was not hers, but rather these 'feelings' humans were so fond of.

"What a bother." He said, talking mostly to himself. "You know- not really the truth, but something. I suppose I could reprogram you and erase your memory, but somehow I don't think you would comply." Not to mention that if he really wanted to, he could swat him like a bug, even as his normal self.

"You're damn right." Again, a new thing- TREA was not one for cursing, unless somebody took his cake.

"I suppose I will tell you the truth, then. For as long as this has been going on, I have observed the phenomenon as something of an experiment slightly out of control. Your reaction to the truth, and what it could do to you- it is undeniable that it would make for quite an interesting experiment."

"Phenomenon? What are you talking about?"

"All in due time. You want to know the truth, don't you?" Szayel said. "You are very confused right now. Your emotions- simulated though they are- are chaos. You know something has been going on, something horrible, that you did not know about. You are sure it is related to you somehow. And above all, you are concerned for that human girl. I really did well in creating you, you know." Szayel smirked. "You are a masterpiece in that aspect- I, a hollow incapable of understanding human emotion nevertheless created a perfect replica of a human male. Yet, you are so irrevocably flawed!

"Get to the point." TREA said between clenched teeth.

"Ah, you're right; I digress. I will give you the truth, and in exchange I will learn from you. But, on one condition!"

"What?"

Szayel gestured towards a heavily reinforced metal table, clearly meant to restrain a creature of about his size and shape.

"…why?"

"For both our safeties." There was no telling just how his destructive side manifested, and if emotional trauma could weaken the peaceful one, or strengthen the destructive one- he would be restrained. "You will lie down on that table, place your wrists and ankles in those set shackles, and you will be completely restrained. The shackles drain reiatsu at a pace equivalent to how much of it is released, meaning that once you let yourself be shackled, you cannot break free until such time I allow it."

TREA flinched. "Is that necessary?"

"It is my one condition." Szayel retorted. "Agree to it, or go ignorant. The choice is yours. Trust me, you will see its necessity in time."

"You are not exactly a trustworthy person, Szayel-sama." The android said, but moved over to the table nevertheless.

"Quite." Szayel said dryly.


Once Szayel had restrained TREA properly, he moved over to a large screen. He pressed a button, and it moved to a convenient distance. TREA pulled at his shackles, testing their strength. They were everything Szayel had described; the harder he pulled, the firmer he stuck. He wondered why this was necessary. He wondered- with good reason- whether this was just some trap, that Szayel might just cut him open.

"You must be thinking," Szayel said, taking off his 'glasses' and polishing them with the sleeve of his shirt. "Why do I have to be fettered so? And wouldn't old Szayel just use this as a ruse to cut me open?"

TREA blinked. Had Szayel just removed, polished and put back his only remaining hollow mask fragment?

"I assure you" The pink-haired madman continued "that in time you will know. And for your information, I am far past obtaining information simply by dissection in your case. Observation is the superior method at this time. Of course, if it were not for this… thing, that you have come here to talk about, I would be as different to you as to the dirt under my feet."

"What-" TREA started.

"Patience, if you please. I will explain fully, starting now."

He pressed a remote control, and the large screen before the, showed the blueprints for he, the Translator Robot of Extreme Attraction.

"Now" Szayel began, speaking in his lecturing voice. "this is you. Or at lest it should be, but it seems these blueprints are not quite enough to describe you. I must have missed some variable, which is most annoying."

He started pacing back and forth, tapping his chin.

"You see, when I first created you, you were nothing but a social experiment. In my striving towards perfection, I of course provided you with the most powerful, durable body available, but your main function was to see whether I could successfully mimic human behaviour in a test subject. Quite a successful experiment at that, I might add." He said the last part with some pride. "Now, I am indifferent to you as an existing entity- or was- but you started, unbeknownst to you, to undergo some changes. It was really just some unforeseen capability to evolve- something surprising in itself, but not wholly unprecedented. All variables cannot be calculated, after all."

"Change?"

"Do not interrupt!" Szayel snapped, annoyed. "Now, as I was saying- you have grown. You may not have thought of it, but when you were first created, you were built roughly as strong as one of my fraccion; strong enough to withstand the spiritual pressure of an espada without breaking. Now… well, think for yourself."

"I can outrun most of the espada." TREA said quietly. "And not even Aizen-sama's spiritual pressure is much of a bother,"

"Rapid evolution, in a way I never even dreamed possible! I would be proud, if it weren't caused by a freak occurrence." He sighed. "Your power has grown most drastically the last few months. This was not brought about by passive existence; your evolution was given a kind of… fertilizer, if I were to make an analogy. This is where this new 'thing' comes into the picture." He paused.

"TREA, how would you be described?"

"Well, I guess-"

"Silence, if you please! It was a rhetorical question. Any description of ones personality performed by oneself is inherently flawed, anyway. Describing you objectively, as a human might value your persona, it might go as follows:
You are carefree, 'fun-loving', kind and considerate. Something of a 'romantic', or a 'sap'. Though flawed- being lecherous, and perhaps too carefree, and you delight in these annoying pranks of yours- you are generally what would be considered a 'good person'. If you were a member of a human community, I am certain you would have many so-called 'friends'; you are social and outgoing. Overall, plain likeable- to a human, that is."

"What are you getting at?"

Szayel sighed, not even bothering to correct him this time. Instead, he continued.

"These aspects of your personality is what makes you a successful experiment. But! There is much more to you. Much, much more. Another persona; a whole different personality inside your mind."

He stopped his lecture briefly, to observe the android's reaction. His face was locked in a mask of disbelief; as if he could not quite comprehend the information. Making a note, Szayel continued:

"This other entity, whom we so far has referred to as 'Malfunctioning Translator Robot of Extreme Attraction, or Mal-TREA for short, has a very different personality. The two of you are like night and day, you see. He is violent, bloodthirsty, sadistic, egotistical up to eleven, and rather insistent that he is the real TREA. How long he has existed, I do not know, but I am fairly certain he is a more recent development."

He pressed a button on his remote control, and a video sequence played.

"This is his first major rampage. You have malfunctioning fits every now and then, and shockingly, your alter ego is quite powerful."

As the sequence played, they saw a group of lesser arrancar, sitting in a room doing nothing in particular. Then, TREA entered. A zoom of the camera revealed his eyes to be red. One of the arrancar got up, telling the android something- presumably that he was not desired here, and should leave. The android said something in response, and the arrancar drew his blade. What followed was, mildly put, traumatizing. As it progressed, it turned into a full-scale battle. All of the time, the arrancar group seemed to hold the advantage, yet the android did not die. TREA realized that he was playing with them, like a cat with a mouse.
Finally, Mal-TREA stopped holding back. Soon, the room was covered in blood as bones cracked, gigantic wounds were ripped by hand, and vivisections performed- all despite the various resurreccions active. Finally, only a single female arrancar was left. She lay broken and quivering, fearful. Things soon became unbearable to watch.

"Please, stop!" TREA cried. Szayel complied, and the screen turned black.

"This is why I restrained you." He explained. "I am unsure of what triggers these fits, and emotional trauma might weaken your hold on this body of yours. And in all honesty, I would rather not face down with him again."

"Oh dear merciful god who is in heaven…" TREA muttered, pale and nauseous.

"God has nothing to do with this, if he even exists." Szayel said indifferently, being as literal as usual.

"I can't believe that's me…" TREA said weakly.

"It isn't. I must stress that; it is another personality, spawned somehow from your own mind, controlling your body. Would you take lives and torture them for pleasure?"

"Of course not!"

"Like I said. You are two different people. You just so happen to share a body."

"But…" TREA said. "Why didn't I suspect anything, if I came to, covered in blood? How could I not see this?"

"I have pondered that matter. "I suspect that your mind, as a defence mechanism, suppresses any memory regarding such events. You simply forget, without being able to help it. Either that, or he has more power over you than I think. That is the most credible theory I have."

"How bad a problem is this? Can you fix it?"

Szayel sighed. "If I could fix it, I would have done so ages ago. Interesting as this occurrence is, it is far too volatile to be used for studies. Not to mention its power grows at an alarming pace- remember how I mentioned 'fertilizer'?"

"Yes?"

"So far, you have malfunctioned on eighteen recorded times. Out of those, ten were quite handily taken care of without major damage. Much of this is thanks to that human girl, I should add. However," he continued, and pressed the remote control again "eight of those episodes were quite bloody. After that first fit you just witnessed, it seems that somehow, that other ego of yours resorted to… carnivorous tendencies. It should be impossible for him to digest and use any biological matter, spiritual in nature or otherwise, but he seems to have done so. Similar to how a hollow gains strength by eating one of its fellows, so did your body. My best theory is that your body absorbed the reiatsu that his victim's bodies were made of, and converted it to pure spiritual energy, which it in turn used to strengthen itself."

"He… ate them?" TREA whispered, sickened. The screen flickered to life, showing a split image: half-eaten broken arrancar bodies on the one side, and a chart of his reiatsu as it had increased over time.

"As you can see" Szayel continued, ignoring TREA's question, "Your reiatsu exploded to immense levels power-wise the last few months. It seems consumption made your evolution all the more rapid." He looked seriously at TREA. "You have grown exceptionally strong, and I, as the foremost scientific genius serving Aizen-sama, can tell you I have no exact idea of how to block out this violent side of yours barring complete dismantling. I would have done so, too, but Aizen-sama's wishes go against that. Power interests him."

"Miska!" TREA growled.

"What of her?"

"What did he do to her? What did he DO to her?! I saw him then, in that camera- he was walking towards her-"

"You may not like this." Szayel warned.

"Tell me!" The android hissed.

He sighed.

"Your alter ego is much like you, despite carrying traits that makes him the opposite side of a spectrum compared to your persona. He has an obsession with you, with getting rid of you, and he has a rather twisted obsession with that human girl. Much like those warm sentiments you carry for her, but reversed into hate, sadism and obsession." He pressed the remote again. Soundlessly, another sequence played. It was nothing short of horrifying to TREA.

"He seems to desire her, on some level. He wishes to dominate and break her, just because she is so important to you, and vice versa."

"Turn it off!" Szayel complied. "Just tell me- over time, what has he done?"

"Well… he has attempted to murder her most heinously- including torture- several times. Every single time, almost. He has attempted sexual assault almost as many times, as well."

TREA blacked out.

When he woke up, he was still lying on the metallic restraint table, but free of his shackles this time. Shaken to the core, he staggered best he could towards his room. His legs seemed not to want to carry him, but somehow he managed to get to his room. He got onto his bed, and curled up into a foetal position, thinking in a most unorderly fashion about the things he had learned. He… no- HIM- was a menace. A merciless, misogynist sadist murderer. He used his body at times he never knew, that he couldn't control. He had tried to… oh god, he had tried to rape Miska. Of all people, he had gone specifically after that wonderful, innocent person- because she was important to him.

Throughout the night, he lay there, unmoving, his mind marinating in the awaiting madness of revelation. When morning came, he was sure of what he had to do. Szayel-sama, his creator, had neither foreseen this, nor was he capable of stopping it. Who knew how much hold he would have of his own mind, or for how long it would last? Who knew how powerful he could become? The espada were very far from being saints, but the idea of them all broken and dead was too much for him. They were like a dysfunctional family to him. And most of all, HER face shone before him; the thought of her broken, abused body, like those hapless arrancar, was unbearable. As he walked once more towards Szayel's lab, one question echoed in his head:
'Why didn't she tell me?'


Once again, Szayel found himself interrupted. Through his welding mask, he did not well see the state his creation was in- not that he might have cared much.

"What now!?" He snapped.

"I need to see them. All of them."

"What are you babbling about?"

"Show me all the footage of my alter ego that you have. I want to- no, I must see everything he has done."

Occupied as he was with his last project, Szayel did not think much of why he would want to do so. Instead, he said:

"If I give you a disc with it all, will you leave me alone?"

"I promise."

Rummaging through his desk, Szayel produced a blank disc. "This has it all. I gathered all footage for study. Now, be careful- I only have this one copy. Just put it in the machine, what it called, and it will play by itself."

"Thank you."

TREA walked off.


Miska was bored. Bored to the core of her bones- and she relished the feeling. Having nothing to do, absolutely nothing, was a luxury compared to the excitement that Las Noches had to offer. In all likeliness, she probably would have lain on her bed, bored, until she fell asleep from it, if her doing of nothing had not been interrupted. But best she lay there, her telescreen- which had been installed by Szayel, after much nagging- flickered to life, unbidden.

"Hey, Miska."

It was TREA- a haunted, worse-for-wear TREA with bags under his eyes.

"Can you hear me? If you miss anything, just replay the message when it's through. This is just a recording, but I want you to listen, okay?"

She frowned. He sounded terrible, like he had passed through hell and just came back.

"Now" he said "it should be about done when you're done listening. Yes."

What was he talking about?

He paused, and said: "I found out. I wish I had known earlier- I wish I had known I had a monster in my head."

Oh, no.

"I saw it all. I watched every second of footage Szayel-sama had. I saw all he did- every last drop of blood shed. I watched it all; I had to. I had to know what he did, in order to make my mind up about this."

What?

"I could perhaps stand being a monster who hurts others; the arrancar aren't exactly saints, and they are powerful, too. But that you should suffer… it is an unbearable thought. I just wish you'd told me." He lowered his head, and his voice shrunk to a whisper. "I don't blame you, though… it's nobody's fault. Things happen, and there's nothing you or I could do to stop it. Well, there's one thing I can do. And I'll do it. I'm so sorry, Miska. Good bye to you. It's been good for as long as it lasted."

The screen went dead again. With a terrifying sense of trepidation, she rushed out of her room, towards Szayel's lab. It took her all of fifteen minutes to run there, but it seemed an hour to her. When she finally arrived, she saw Szayel lying on the floor, unconscious. His hair and uniform looked roughed up, as did his table full of scientist's objects. She shook him, hoping he would wake up, and explain that TREA was just pulling a really stupid joke. She so desperately wanted to hear that.
Finally, Szayel grunted, opened his eyes, and got up on his knees.

"Blasted… thing!" he hissed. "Ah. It's you. Figures."

He rose to his feet, with a look calm fury.

"What-"

"I'll tell you 'what', my dear!" he said in a low tone. "That creation of mine punched me out. He walked up to me, said he was sorry, and gave me the haymaker of a lifetime."
He walked to a panel, and pressed a few buttons. "And according to this, he is in the third room to the left. The electricity."

She rushed away. The door was closed, but not locked. Trembling, she opened it. Laying there on the floor, his chest cut open and filled with seemingly any electrical wire he could find, quite lifeless.

"Figures." Szayel said. "Typical. I shouldn't have let him see the entire thing. The things preoccupation can do to you." He moved over, examining the body. Miska was speechless, shocked as much as- though not in the same way- as the dead android before her.

"He went about this rather crudely." Szayel commented. "He shoved his chest full with my best electrical wires, took roughly half the power supply of Las Noches, and let it flow through him. His insides are molten. I would assume his programming has been fried.

Miska blacked out.


When she woke up, she lay on the floor somewhere in Szayel's lab. For a blissful moment, she remembered nothing. Then, it all came back to her- TREA was gone.

"You are awake." Szayel's voice came.

She couldn't quite form any words.

"While I am less than pleased with the rebellious behaviour of my creation, perhaps this was for the best. Please understand that; this is beneficial for you too-"

"How can you!" She cried. "It isn't right! It isn't fair!"

"This world is neither righteous not fair." He retorted dryly. "I realize your attachment to the android will make you react in a less than sensible way, but please remember: he was artificial. A creation. A creation which endangered us all, you in particular."

She sat there, hugging her legs, trying to understand.

"It is not impossible to rebuild him, I suppose." He mused. So long as a single chip from his most vital area survived, he could be made to everything he was before. I won't, however. I tolerated his existence, but he was far too dangerous." Finishing his idle musings, he walked away and busied himself anew with his project.

Miska could do nothing; she just sat there. She could not understand it, would not understand- he could not be gone!


And in the wrecked body that had hosted both good and evil, a single intact chip gleamed.
Written for :iconilovemybishies87:

Just a short I wrote for fun. I'm not at all pleased with the ending, though- bleh.
© 2009 - 2024 Greatkingrat88
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Monkey D. Luffy of One Piece sports a rather blatant form of Plot Armor, to the point where it may very well be a plot point. The same goes for the rest of the Straw Hat Crew, especially Zoro.


For example: When Luffy was exhausted to the point of no longer being able to move and under the danger of being nuked to hell, his severely damaged and barely functioning ship that had been abandoned days prior on another island drifted to his location at that exact moment and his crewmates were able to throw him on and escape.


This level of plot armor extends beyond blind luck too; no matter how strong the enemies are, nothing will ever kill one of the Straw Hats. The crew's sharpshooter Usopp, described by Word of God as being supposedly only as strong as a normal person, was able to be smashed by a 4-ton bat and dragged along the ground at 40 miles an hour and live.


Truly, the Straw Hats' "limits" are at the complete whim of the plot. They can withstand anything short of being completely obliterated and any attack capable of doing that will simply not touch them for one reason or another. Of course, the series is known for "No One Dies in One Piece" because every character outside of a Flashback showed this sort of durability, for the whole series.