Inside the "White City" of Flevance, conflict raged on. The people's resentment, fury, and despair were like a lit fuse ready to explode.
World Government agents had secretly incited a portion of the citizens, and soon more desperate survivors were drawn into the unrest.
To live…
Only if they could force open a corridor along the border would they have a chance. Only then could medicine, food, water—life's necessities—be secured.
But for the Revolutionary Army, unprepared for such sudden chaos, this development was nothing short of fatal.
Quickly, their operatives disguised themselves as Flevance citizens and tried to calm the swelling tide of panic.
Yet a few drops of calm could do nothing against a firestorm of rage and hatred.
"Bang!"
The first shot fired toward the border signaled the beginning.
A heartbeat later, a hail of gunfire erupted from the opposing side. In seconds, hundreds of Flevance citizens collapsed under the barrage.
Those who tried to return fire found their weapons sabotaged—guns tampered with, ammunition scarce. Their retaliation was pitiful, laughable, and only served as the excuse the neighboring army needed to invade.
"The demons of Flevance are trying to break the border, to spread their plague into our country! They want to drag us into their misery!"
"Exterminate them! Kill every one of these plague demons!"
"Form ranks—cleanse Flevance!"
---
Under the World Government's propaganda, and the royal orders of neighboring nations, the soldiers truly believed Flevance was riddled with a deadly contagion. Now the people's desperate assault pushed their fraying nerves over the edge.
Bastards! You won't infect us!
Driven by fear, the soldiers in sealed hazmat suits raised their rifles without hesitation. At their officers' commands, they crossed the border in waves, firing indiscriminately.
Wherever their eyes landed—man, woman, or child—they pulled the trigger until their magazines ran dry.
A massacre began to spread along the border like wildfire.
The air filled with the ragged screams of the sick, already tortured by "Amber Lead Syndrome," their cries of pain and rage dissolving into silence one by one.
"Quickly—guide the citizens west, toward the Forsena border!"
Realizing the tragedy could no longer be stopped, Revolutionary Army members enacted Yahn's emergency fallback plan. They began steering the fleeing citizens toward the designated evacuation route.
Above the blood-stained sky of Flevance, a golden canary circled tirelessly.
Inside the castle, Robin strained every ounce of her Brujería ability to shepherd the panicked masses toward safety.
But her heart was breaking.
At last, she had discovered Brujería's fatal weakness.
Though her Flower-Flower Fruit powers could amplify its control manyfold, true domination required direct eye contact—a mark etched upon the target's forehead.
But every soldier was sealed inside protective suits.
And so… they were immune.
Robin's eyes widened as the realization crashed down.
The entire plan Yahn had built around her ability collapsed like a castle in the air.
"Big Brother Yahn…"
She trembled, drowning in panic and guilt. She had failed him—failed everyone.
"What do I do? What do I do?!"
Shaking violently, she clenched her teeth and continued to help guide the people westward, refusing to stop despite knowing the truth.
But it was useless.
Even if the citizens reached the Forsena border, without her control of the enemy soldiers, they would never pass through alive.
Even worse—without her ability to mask their movements, their escape routes were meaningless.
"Damn it!"
Tears welled in Robin's eyes. For the first time, she wondered if she truly was cursed—if she really was the Demon's Child.
It had been Ohara then. Now Flevance. And this time, even Yahn would be dragged down because of her.
---
But Robin didn't know—Yahn was fully aware of the situation.
Even as he danced on the knife's edge, dodging Barak's lethal finger-guns with butterfly-like grace, his Observation Haki blanketed all of Flevance, monitoring every shift.
"Something's gone wrong with Robin…"
He sensed it the moment the little canary faltered in its flight. He quickly pieced the puzzle together.
Robin was too rational, too methodical. She would never waste her strength running about blindly unless something critical had failed.
Could it be that Brujería can't control that many? No… that doesn't fit…
Yahn blurred aside as Barak's hardened finger thrust pierced the air where he had stood, narrowly avoiding death once more.
Fortunately, Barak was a pure close-combat fighter. His raw power was monstrous, but his speed was not at its peak.
And Suzumebachi's former master had been a commander of the covert forces—an expert in Shunpo and assassination arts. Through this inheritance, Yahn's footwork had grown sharper by the day. Against Barak, he had nine chances in ten of keeping himself untouched.
Otherwise, for safety's sake, he would have long since disengaged and drawn Barak away instead of stalling him here.
But now, he was trapped.
Robin—the lynchpin of this entire operation—had faltered. And that meant the entire plan was unraveling.
Should I… try to take this CP0 down by force?
The thought cut through his mind like a blade.
But unlike Devil Fruit users, masters of physical combat had almost no exploitable weaknesses.
From what Yahn had gleaned during their exchanges, suppressing Barak with speed and Suzumebachi's "Two-Step" was possible.
But killing a man blessed with danger-predicting Observation Haki? Nearly impossible.
Senbonzakura? It can't breach his defenses. Tenken? Too slow. Suzumebachi Raikōben in Bankai has the raw power—but landing that fatal blow on someone who senses danger before it strikes… almost unthinkable.