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There is blood on his cheek. Sluggish, brownish blood, splattered on the white skin. It's old blood and it stains.
He really couldn't care much.
He has a vague sense of bodies moving around him, and blood, blood on his clothes, on his fists. He knows he's not alone like he knows how the sun burns, scortching in summer, like he knows how the sea sings, late at night, with the whales. He takes it for granted, because that just might be the only thing he can take as such.
That, and the blood.
There is a flash of yellow on his right, something hot and smoking like fire and he steps aside. Sunrays on polished steel blinds him next and he almost misses the flash of green that follows. Like he said, not alone. Not the only one covered in blood and gore and rust and guts and-
Bones.
Broken, crushed, dust under his heel and he walks by the corpses and smiles.
He's not alone and they're doing a damn good job.
His turn, now.
When the blood on his cheek is dried and cracked, when the blood on his clothes is turning sluggish and brownish, when the bone dust has settled on his hair, he stops.
The moving bodies around him become still.
The iron door is mocking them.
The yellow flash rips it from the wall with a kick but doesn't come inside. The green blurr is first, then he follows and the yellow flash comes last.
The room is a void sucking light out of everything. And yet something there is darker.
He focuses on it, waits until his eyes pierce the darkness and he-
br e a t h e s
"Zoro! Torao, Sanji! I knew you'd come for me!"
With a gentle hand, his eyes stuck on Luffy, Law wipes the blood of his cheek.