Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Leona (pronounced lay-ona)

Female, She/her pronouns

Codename - Penumbra

height - 5'3 (160 cm)

strengths - photographic memory, extreme flexibility, silent footsteps, stamina, well-trained armament and observation haki, advanced acrobatic prowess, sword and archery proficiency, strong mental fortitude, analytical skill, agility, charisma (mainly with children), storytelling, empathy, calculation

weaknesses - poor smuggling skills, lacklustre durability without devil fruit powers, physical strength (more proficient in long range combat and sneak attacks than close and unarmed combat), naivety, empathy, love for her only family, obsession over her lifelong goal, lack of self worth, excessive worrying over things she cannot control, guilty conscience, poor eyesight, lack of autonomy, quick to resort to violent blind rage if provoked enough, water and seastone

Devil Fruit - Moon-Moon fruit

The Moon-Moon fruit is a paramecia-type devil fruit that grants the user to manipulate and create lunar energy, making them a Lunar Human. The amount of lunar energy one can produce is seemingly limitless and can be compacted into a shimmery, silver-blue, glass-like material (dubbed "moonglass" by Leo), which is incredibly strong and resilient, rivalling that of tempered steel. If the user so wishes, they can still easily manipulate the material when compacted, as if moulding clay, making it easy to repair something made of moonglass if it becomes damaged. Non-users cannot manipulate hardened moonglass the same way. Moonglass may be formed into blades as sharp as the user wills it to be, meaning the user has access to weapons at any time, provided they have access to their powers. A user can also produce many objects at once, which remain even when their abilities are not in use. The user is also able to easily levitate the created objects, allowing the possibility of spearing enemies from afar by simply willing an object to lift and fly. The user can change the colour of the moonglass, but only in shades of blue and silver, ranging from light to dark. If the user wishes so, they can compact the lunar energy less, resulting in a more malleable material similar to silken fabric. It is much less durable in this form, yet it can provide emergency clothes or cloaks that can resist being cut or ripped. Moonglass is overall a reusable material for the user and can be "melted" into cubes for storage, then reformed into its original object, provided the user remembers what it was. Another technique the user can use is producing lunar energy holograms. Because the energy is not compacted like moonglass, it is intangible and typically used as a distraction. If a user creates a hologram of someone walking, it'd be easy to mistake them as a ghost, as their form would only be in translucent shades of blue and silver. The user can even create holograms of things they currently see or scenes from their memories, much like a projector. They cannot manipulate these holograms to act differently than how they see or remember, however. The user can use their holograms to simulate a night sky with any phase of the moon they wish. This means that they can effectively create a synthetic full moon. The holograms only go as far as the user can see. A major weakness of this fruit is that constant use gradually depletes the user's stamina, resulting in the user becoming unconscious for a prolonged period to recover. This results in any current Moonglass creations nearby becoming brittle and cracking, and any holograms in use flickering and disappearing. The amount of time unconscious depends on the user's physical well-being. Another significant weakness is that lunar energy becomes significantly weaker when subjected to direct sunlight. Moonglass will become very soft or even begin to melt if the sunlight is strong enough, much like ice, evaporating into a shimmering mist. However, if hidden from the sun, the material will cease melting. It is not heat that melts the material, but solar energy. This fruit's power is drastically amplified under a real full moon, making the user exponentially more energized and the Moonglass nigh impenetrable. Under these conditions, the user can charge lunar energy and fire a powerful laser beam attack, capable of blasting massive holes in the hulls of warships. This attack saps an enormous amount of energy, rendering the user unconscious for several hours after a single use.

SBS info (just for funsies)

Animal resemblance: Lion, Rabbit

Colour: indigo 

Smell: candy and rubbing alcohol 

Favourite food: strawberry and chocolate cake

Real world nationality: Italian

Chapter Text

Delicate, fluffy snowflakes fluttered down from the heavens endlessly, coating the deck of the enormous Donquixote SAD Tanker in its powdered frost. Leona stood alone at the bow, arms crossed over her chest, staring ahead blankly at the devastated island of Punk Hazard as it grew larger and larger with the diminishing distance. What was once a lush island full of rich greenery has since been left a hell of flame and ice, split clean down the middle. Leona adjusted her glasses, supposing the “Hazard” part of its name made sense now.

“Terrifying what devil fruits can do…” she hums, recalling news reports of the legendary battle between the former Navy admirals “Akainu” Sakazuki and “Aokiji” Kuzan for the promotion to Fleet Admiral that took place here just over a month ago. She remembered how surprised she was when she read how a ten-day conflict between two well-trained Logia users resulted in an entire island’s climate becoming so severely and permanently altered. She wondered how Caesar and his laboratory even survived such calamity. 

The thought of Caesar just then made her pause, and her mind drifted to just two days prior, when she was being briefed for her current mission. 

Leona gently toed across the gilded halls of Dressrosa’s royal palace on bare feet, a habit built through years of slinking undetected in places she wasn’t meant to be. She was given a direct summons for a private meeting from Doffy himself, which meant she had to obey no matter how far away she was. Luckily, she didn’t have to keep him waiting too long, only having to climb a couple of flights of stairs. She finally reached the high terrace that loomed over the plaza below. Doflamingo lounged with a glass of wine much too big for her, but perfectly proportionate for a human of his stature.

“Ah, Penumbra… you never disappoint me with your punctuality,” he said, not even looking behind him as Leona entered the open doors. Despite her footsteps being near inaudible, Doflamingo knew she was near.

“I’d never willingly disappoint you, young master,” Leona says, pushing up her oversized glasses. “I’m to assume you have a new mission for me?”

“Ah, yes… sit. Enjoy the view while we talk.”

Leona obeyed, smoothing the skirt of her dress as she sat on the Doflamingo-sized lounge chair beside him. Luxuriously comfortable, even if it practically engulfed her petite frame.

Doflamingo sipped the bitter wine from his glass, peering at the shrunken forms of people below like insects under his boots. Leona admired the impeccably maintained flower arrangements decorating the rail, hands folded in her lap.

“My mission for you this time regards our supplier of SAD.” He finally says. “Lately, I’ve noticed an odd pattern in the reports I’ve been sent back from the lab.”

“An odd pattern, sir?” Leona inquires.

Doflamingo reached over to a side table, picking up a manila envelope with “CLASSIFIED” stamped in bright red on top. He hands it to Leona, who undoes the seal and pulls out what seemed to be the last five months’ production reports, shipping manifests, and budget reports.

“Let’s see…” Leona hums. “January 1522… SAD batch #294, projected yield…” She squints at the word, noticing it is typoed as ‘yeild’. “...Spelled incorrectly… 1,020L. Actual yield approximately 980L. Minor losses due to containment condensation drift.”

She flips the report to the shipping manifest.

“Total litres received by barrel… 756. A stark decrease.”

Doflamingo swirled his wine.

Leona looked at the reports for the next four months. “February… projected yield: 1,020L, Actual yield: approximently 980L. Same cause of decrease. March’s projected yield was raised to 1,040L, yet decreased to the same 980L. April is back at 1,020L, same decrease amount, same cause. And May is exactly the same… and the word ‘Yield’ is misspelled on all of them. The shipping manifests also show similar sharp declines. Do you know how many barrels the factory received this month, sir?” 

“Fourteen barrels,” Doflamingo said after a swig.

Leona narrowed her eyes at the manifest. “Caesar wrote twenty… hmm…” She then looks at the budget reports. “Purchase: Stabilizing agent compound, code 293-VX84…” She snorts indignantly. “Funny, 293-VX84 happens to be the same shipping code for a brand of wine originating from the West Blue… It’s not a very cheap brand either.”

Leona skimmed over the rest of the report, brows furrowing in annoyance. “The amount he spends per month is asinine! With the amount of SAD we do end up receiving per month, he’d be spending a little over half this total sum!” She emphasizes the absurdity of it all by slapping the paper with the back of her hand.

“Exactly. Puts a pit in your stomach, no?” Doflamingo asks with a grin.

“So I’m to understand you want me to dig into why Caesar’s blatantly fluffing his reports and seemingly embezzling?”

Doflamingo chuckled sinisterly. “You understand correctly. You’re to arrive by the tanker scheduled in the next two days. Six AM sharp. I want you to gather info on why production isn’t as good as it should be. First, I want to know why so much SAD is “disappearing” during production. Monet hasn’t been giving me those details…”

Leona paused, eyebrows raising. “M-Monet, sir?”

“Ah, that’s right, I forgot to mention… Monet has been stationed there to keep watch on Caesar for the past year, but I haven’t been getting enough info during this decline, you see…” Doflamingo said with a strange grin, licking his teeth. “The two of you will be working together. Hope you don’t mind too much.”

Leona hesitates for a moment, but quickly forces a thin smile. “O-of course not, sir! I don’t mind at all.”

Doflamingo chuckled, gently placing his glass down on the table and standing up. He took a few steps towards the flowery rail. “That’s my girl. Monet is a fine spy, don’t get me wrong… but there are still things able to slip through even her fingers. While she’s good at blending in and playing her roles, you’re great at getting close undetected… getting to see the stuff that stays strictly behind locked doors.” His large fingers plucked a pristine white rose from the colourful array and admired it. “A steel trap mind of secrets.”

Doflamingo stepped back over to Leona, towering over her small frame. “Aren’t you, dear?” he asks, placing the rose in her golden hair, tucked behind her ear.

As soon as the rose touched her, Leona flinched rather violently. Doflamingo raised an eyebrow, squinting behind his scarlet shades. Leona’s pulse raced, cringing at how her instinct made her slip like that. “A-ah… so two days from now, right? Six AM? I-I’ll make my preparations right now! Excuse me, sir!”

And so she bolted from the terrace into the castle, leaving her young master in stunned sile-

Purupurupurupuru… purupurupurupuru…

Leona snapped out of her thoughts with a jolt, reaching into her coat to gingerly retrieve her personal transponder snail. With a deep breath, she straightens her posture and picks up the receiver.

Purupur- gacha.

“Speaking.”

“Formal as always, aren’t you, Penumbra?” The familiar crooning voice of Monet came through her snail’s mouth, his usually cute face morphing into her wicked sneer. “Almost here, I assume?”

“I’m approaching the northwest dock now. ETA under ten minutes. ” Leona states as she gently strolls along the deck with her free arm resting behind her back. “I would hope you’ve cleared a landing for me.”

“Of course, only the best for the young master’s most trusted agent.”

Leona forces a tight-lipped smile, eyebrow twitching at how backhanded that sounded. “Aha… I’m flattered you believe so. I look forward to working with you, Monet.”

A lie, of course. Even looking at that woman was enough to put her on edge. She had eyes like a hawk, always glowering at her like she was prey beneath the flirty smiles and sweet voice.

“Likewise, dear Penumbra.”

As Monet’s giggling was cut by their call ending, Leona shuddered from something other than the freezing weather.

“Creepy bitch…” She grumbled, stuffing her snail back in her coat pocket. She clutched the railing, bracing for when the tanker pulled into port.

The tanker heaved as it drifted into place, hugging the side of the snowy land. Some men came up from below deck, unfurling ropes and tying things into place. Another few men lowered the large ramp, preparing to stock the fresh barrels of SAD onto the tanker. One of the men turned to Leona. “All clear, Miss Penumbra, ma’am!”

“Thank you.” Leona nodded, pulling her hood over her head. “It was a pleasure.”

“Don’t forget this, Miss Penumbra,” a man nearly twice Leona’s size said, bending forward and holding out a closed fist. He opened it to reveal a gas mask, which looked comically tiny in his large palm. “This place was destroyed by an island-wide gas bomb attack that wiped out every living organism on it just a couple of years ago, or so I’m told. There may be residual poison in the atmosphere. Be safe, ma’am.”

“Ah, good to know.” Leona took the mask, slipping it onto her face and adjusting it. She looked back up at the man, who gave a thumbs-up. 

Her long coat fluttered as she made her way off the ramp, steps silent even as she trudged through the snow blanketing this side of the island. A harsh wind howling past made her pause, her coat clutched closer as she shivered, her teeth chattering. When it passed, she continued. “How the hell can you stand to live here, Caesar?”

She climbed the steps to the laboratory, finally standing face to face with the enormous, heavy-duty doors. She followed the length of them all the way up to the top, having to crane her neck, even bending her back a bit to see it. “If the doors are this large, then there must be giants working here,” she mused. “Now, how would I… oh,” she mumbled, noticing the large doorbell affixed to the right-hand door. She attempted to press it with a finger, but it seemed to be heavier than anticipated. She attempted her whole palm, but it still didn’t push. She then tried pushing with both hands, but it didn’t budge.

“...hm.” Leona hums, hands on her hips. She took a couple of steps back, then shoved her shoulder into the switch with all her might. Finally, the switch clicked, and she heard a faint buzzing from beyond the thick walls.

…

…

…?

Leona looked around the area aimlessly, growing impatient with every passing minute that no one came to open the doors.

Her brows furrowed behind her fogging glasses. “He does know I’m here, doesn’t he? What the hell is taking so-”

SCRRREEAAKKK!!!

Leona swallowed her words the moment she heard the groaning screech of steel. Her head snapped forward, witnessing the slow reveal of who she assumed to be Caesar Clown, and beside him, Monet with her long green hair tied in a messy bun.

“Welcome, welcome!” Caesar’s shrill voice exclaimed cheerily. “You must be Penumbra. Charmed!” his large, gloved hands engulfed one of Leona’s in a vigorous shake that jerked her around.

When Leona regained her balance, she adjusted her crooked glasses and gave a respectful bow. “I’m honoured to work for you, Caesar, sir. I truly admire the blood, sweat, and tears you pour into your work for us, here.”

Caesar cackled, seeming more than pleased. “See, this is why I like Joker. He only brings me subordinates who respect me and recognize my genius!

He’s truly a man who understands what someone of my calibre deserves! Not like these CHUMPS that laze about all day and complain!”

Leona’s mind briefly flashed to Doflamingo’s parting words to her via transponder snail as she was boarding the tanker.

“Just some last-minute advice, Penumbra… Caesar’s Devil Fruit is a Logia that gives him complete control over any gas, toxic or otherwise. This, combined with his inflated ego, makes him a ticking time bomb. You’ll have to kiss his ass if you want any chance of getting what you want. Trust me, I’m not pleased about sucking up to that idiot so that he doesn’t give up on what we pay him for…”

“Understood, Joker.”

“Oh, and I may have spun a little white lie about your Devil Fruit not being all that strong… just to keep his guard low. You understand, right?”

“Of course, Caesar, sir!” Leona says, clasping her hands excitedly. “I practically had to beg to be sent here!”

Caesar’s cheeks became rosy, and his face screwed into a pleased smile that truthfully creeped Leona the hell out, clearly revelling in Leona’s honeyed praise. “Aw, well, if that’s the case, then I’d be a fool not to accept you into my facility! I was told a bit about you by Joker and Monet, but I never imagined you’d have such impeccable taste! I honestly was just going to dump the responsibility of showing you around on Monet, but you’ve put me in such a great mood, I want to do it myself! Monet, be a dear and take her coat and mask! I’ll meet you back in my private labs later, for now…”

Leona tuned out Caesar’s self-aggrandizing babbling as she removed her winter wear. Monet gracefully took the garment, leaning down to Leona’s level with a hissing whisper. “Laying it on a bit thick, aren’t we?”

“I’m only doing what I was told, Monet.” Leona whispered back, annoyed. “Doffy said, “kiss his ass”, so I’m kissing his ass. And if you ask me, he’s eating it up.”

“Hmph. Well, you better not get tired of keeping that up for long…” Monet suddenly tore off Leona’s gas mask in an upward motion, which made her glasses fly off her nose and into the air.

“Ah!” Leona gasped, attempting to catch them. They fumbled in her hands and nearly fell to the floor, but Monet caught them with ease, handing them to the blonde with a contempt sneer. “If Master Caesar catches you slipping, it won’t end well for you . After all, you wouldn’t want to disappoint the Young Master, would you, dear Penumbra ? ”

Leona scowled, snatching her lenses back. “The same could be said to you, you little-”

“HEY! Penumbra! You can have a tea party with Monet on your break! I’m wasting my precious time giving you a tour myself! Don’t make me change my mind!”

“Yes, coming, Master!” Leona simpered, putting her glasses back on and catching up to the mad scientist.

Chapter Text

The things Leona noted during Caesar’s exuberant tour of the facility on her arrival day were… concerning, to say the least. Caesar much preferred to talk about himself over the actual upkeep and production value. Whenever Leona attempted to ask questions regarding, for instance, how the laboratory survived the battle that caused the island’s climate change, Caesar interrupted her dismissively, giving a vague answer about how it used to be a Vegapunk facility, and that they tend to be resilient. Even so, Leona had noticed structural damage here and there that would cause issues in the long term if not addressed, but she kept that to herself for the time being. Another concern was that nearly all of the workers in the facility rode on prosthetic balloon-like contraptions that reminded her of baby bouncers used to aid infants in developing their leg muscles. According to Caesar, the workers were all ex-prisoners that’ve lost function in their lower bodies due to nerve poisoning during an incident a couple of years ago. He then recounted a heroic tale of how he saved these poor souls by purifying the poisoned air and crafted mobility aids so that those who lost their functioning legs were able to live a semblance of a normal life. Leona played along, asking how the air was poisoned, and Caesar, spouting crocodile tears, pointed the blame at Dr. Vegapunk, claiming the renowned scientist decided to test a bio-weapon on the prisoners, but was too stupid to see that the bomb was far too strong. Leona saw straight through him, though. The fallout resulting from an island-wide toxic gas explosion just happening to be neutralized by the user of the gas-gas fruit some time afterward? That, combined with how highly Caesar spoke of his heroism rather than the misfortune of the victims, painted a clear picture. Yet still, Leona played along. 

“Wow, Master!” she simpered, batting her eyelashes. “You did all that by yourself? That’s amaaaaazing!”

Caesar puffed out his chest, clearly chuffed. “Well, of course! I couldn’t stand by and watch these innocent souls who’ve done nothing wrong suffer! Why, it would be remiss of someone with such a big heart like myself!”

‘You said they were convicts, dumbass.’ Leona thought, internally rolling her eyes.

Leona also noted that Caesar intentionally steered clear of a particular hallway and stairwell leading to the second floor of area B. It was understandable, as her job on the surface was to assist in the SAD production room to ensure production was up to code. There was no point in showing her places she wasn’t meant to be; however, she did catch a glance of the suspiciously high number of surveillance snails on the walls in that hallway compared to the other rooms…

She was then led to hallway D-B, which connected area B and area D. Area D happened to be where the SAD production room was located, and oh dear… the STATE of this room.

Off the bat, Leona noticed a number of hazards, and she wasn’t even anywhere near a regulatory expert. The first thing she saw was that the workers weren’t wearing gloves, lab coats, ventilation masks, OR eye protection despite working with a highly toxic and radioactive chemical compound like SAD when unprocessed. For fuck’s sake, it had a goddamn radioactive material label the size of a satellite dish ON THE MAIN VAT. To make matters worse, many of the workers she passed had hands wrapped in bandages or chemical burn scars. It didn’t help that the ones who used the mobility aid contraptions were much clumsier than the able-bodied ones because the balloon strings often got in the way. Not to mention how sweltering it was! Either Vegapunk’s famous aircon tech was malfunctioning, or the machinery was overheating on a constant basis. 

“GREETINGS, GENTLEMEN!” Caesar all but shrieked. “How is the new batch coming along? I expect nothing but perfection!”

“Uh, i-it’s coming along well, Master!” a man said, despite being drenched in sweat. “Th-the new batch is nearly finished!”

Leona opened her mouth to inquire about… well, everything , but the moment she did, an alarm began blaring, coupled with the overhead lighting fading to a bright red.

“M-M-Master!!!” a worker screamed, tripping over himself as he ran towards the two of them.

“Ugh, what IS IT you impudent ass!? Can’t you see I’m busy!?”

“I-I’m sorry, Master, but… some of the cooling tanks busted again! They’re not supplying enough water into the tower to keep the vat from overheating!”

“Well then, refill the tanks! Are you stupid!? We had this issue last week!” Caesar stamped his foot childishly.

“B-b-but master, we filled the tanks this morning!”

Leona took a deep breath and closed her eyes, tuning out the noise of panic and warning alarms. Her Observation Haki activated, and she sensed the motion in the room, such as the cowering of several of Caesar’s workers as the man threw a comical tantrum, or the men running and floating back and forth in panic, not knowing what to do. She furrowed her brow, focusing harder. The auras of people faded to life in her blackened vision, sensing even those not in direct sight. Behind the cooling tanks was the shape of a younger man. Leona sensed feelings of intense panic, more panic than anyone in the room, radiating from his person as he hunched down, holding a ring of some sort. Leona snapped her eyes open, sprinting towards the rail above the lower level, vaulting over it and landing into a sizable and growing puddle of water. She heard the sound of water spraying to her right and made a beeline for it.

“Aha,” she says as she turns a corner and spots the issue instantly, subsequently scaring the shit out of the man who was currently attempting to wrap a burst pipe in duct tape as it absolutely gushed water and steam. By the looks of things, the tape clearly wasn’t working, as evidenced by the amount of broken tape around the pipes.

“W-who are you!?” the man yelped.

“Move,” Leona said, shoving him aside. From the looks of things, the pipes were quite worn and had begun to split some time ago. Leona was no handywoman, but she knew when pipes needed to be replaced. For the time being, however, they needed something better than just tape.

Leona positioned her hands, which glowed with a whitish-blue light, around the rupture.

“Moonglass,” she says, pushing her hands closer together slowly around the most damaged pipe. The man watched in wonder as the light began to form a ring around the damaged part of the pipe, becoming denser and denser into a shimmering, glassy blue tube. The man glanced up at her face, startled to find her eyes had begun glowing white. Leona then squeezed her hands around the tube, pressing firmly to assure a watertight fit around the pipe. And just like that, the leak stopped. She then secured the rest of the damaged pipes with the same method.

“You,” she says, turning her attention to the man once she was finished.

“Uh… y-yeah?” he responded dumbly, gawking like an idiot at her eyes fading back to their normal brown.

“Give me your shirt,” Leona demands.

“Wh… huh?”

“Your shirt. Give it to me,” she demanded again, gesturing with her hand.

“O-okay…” The man hesitantly strips his shirt, handing it to Leona.

Leona dried her wet hands on the man’s tattered prison shirt, shoving it back into his arms when satisfied. “That’ll hold it for the time being,” she said as she walked off, leaving him dumbfounded. “But the whole pipe system needs to be replaced.”

By the time Leona returned to Caesar, the water cooling had begun to do its job properly, so the alarm ceased and the lights returned to normal.

“What did you do!?” Caesar demanded. “You just ran off, and suddenly everything’s working again!”

Leona adjusted her glasses and began pointing out the various glaring hazards. “This lab is in complete disarray. Not only are your workers being exposed to these toxic chemicals without any protection to speak of, but the upkeep of the machines seems to have been completely neglected altogether! I mean, the pipes for the water tank were so busted, the amount of water actually getting into the towers was hardly enough to keep the main vat’s temperature down! If you ask me, Caesar, I think-”

Leona paused when she noticed several workers gesturing at her to stop ranting, pointing behind her and drawing a frantic line across their necks with their thumbs.

She turned around, eyes widening at how Caesar was now levitating, his gaseous coat swirling and making him grow larger like a cyclone of poison.

“So… you think I don’t know how to run a lab, do you? You think I’m incompetent!? Huh!? What would you know about running a chemical lab!? This system is flawless —my design, my genius! YOU DARE QUESTION MY GENIUS!?”

Ah, fuck.

“O-oh, no, Master!” Leona simpered, putting on an innocent face. “I didn’t mean anything bad by it! I was just… making suggestions!” Leona fluttered her eyelashes, posing with her arms in a way that pushed up and squished her breasts together so he got an eyeful of cleavage from his elevated angle. “I just got so passionate… I’d do anything to make your reputation shine, y’knooow? I’m sooooo sorry if I sounded all naggy!”

Caesar paused, staring wide-eyed like he hadn’t expected that. He seemed to ponder Leona’s words, though the way he slowly looked down Leona’s body with a light pink dusting on his pale cheeks hadn’t gone unnoticed. 

He shrank back down to his regular size, a pleased grin on his painted face. “Ah, well… of course! Now I see! It’s only natural that you’d react in such a way… I do tend to inspire people like that! Very well! I forgive your impulsive act of admiration!”

As Caesar turned his attention to some workers to bark orders, Leona sighed heavily. ‘I’m shocked that worked…’ she thought. ‘Way too close…’

Leona knew that some changes had to be made here so that Caesar wouldn’t eventually destroy everything with his own hubris and make everything involving Doflamingo’s relations with Kaido go belly up…

***

1 Month in

In the month following the catastrophe that was her first day, Leona, now donning a lab coat, had covertly noted the many, many terrible decisions Caesar had made while she did her rounds in the labs. She watched each worker intently, sorting out the most capable from the least. There were many of the ex-prisoners who seemed to be somewhat proficient in chemistry or mechanics. At the same time, there were many others whose chemistry prowess only extended to heating or mixing chemicals in beakers and hoping they didn’t explode. Those were more often than not the brawn-over-brains type. But that’s not to say they were useless, however. Leona felt that there may be a better use for them elsewhere. As for what “elsewhere” is, well… she’ll cross that bridge when she gets to it.

For now, though, Leona had spent the last week creating a comprehensive list of changes that needed to be made within the labs based on her eavesdropping, and was now being taken to Caesar’s private quarters on the fourth floor by Monet for a meeting.

As Monet guided Leona through the lower floors of the laboratory, Leona couldn’t help but notice how many security snails were on the second floor, and the even larger number of snails on the third. While the second floor had at least two snails per hallway, the third had SIX, including one snail watching above each blast door.

“Hey, isn’t the amount of security snails down here kind of… excessive?” Leona inquires, adjusting her glasses.

“Well, this is an illegal operation we’re running here, Penumbra ,” Monet says with her usual sugar-coated tone.

“I know that,” Leona grumbles through her teeth. “I’m only asking because there aren't as many snails in the SAD production room as down here. What’s down here that needs to be hidden so bad?”

“That’s classified.” Monet sings.

Leona opened her mouth, about to remind Monet that they were spies and had to know everything that was going on under Doflamingo’s nose, but quickly shut it when she remembered they were being watched at every turn.

“Okay…” she huffs. “Then, can you tell me why you allowed the SAD production room to stay in the state it was in for the past year? It may not seem like it, Monet, but the amount of losses that’ve racked up as a result have cost us a lot of money, you know.”

“It’s not my job to look after the SAD production.” Monet shrugs, leading her through the corridor, down a stairwell to the fourth level, and through yet another corridor. “I only do what Master Caesar asks of me. And what he’s asked of me is to take care of his projects on the third floor.”

Leona squinted. “...And what does that mean, exactly…?”

“Oh, look, we’re here,” Monet says, blatantly ignoring Leona and inputting a four-digit code into a keypad next to a large door. Leona couldn't help but feel that the way Monet angled her body to obscure it from her view while doing so was intentional.

“Master Caesar, I brought Penumbra,” Monet said as she and Leona entered.

“Yes, yes.” Caesar waved flippantly as he sipped a cocktail from a fancy glass on his sofa. “Make whatever it is you want to show me quick. My time is precious, you know.”

“Of course, master,” Leona said, bowing. “Now…”

Leona turned toward the space in front of them. “Moon Phase Reminiscence,” she says, and her eyes began to glow white. An image of the SAD production room as seen from Leona's eyes suddenly appeared out of thin air, translucent blue like that of a hologram.

“While production this past year has been smooth for the most part, we're just barely meeting the requirements needed each month as set by Doflamingo,” Leona looked back at Caesar with her glowing eyes. “And need I remind you that we're producing all of this SAD for Kaido, a pirate emperor, no less.”

“Your point? If we're meeting the requirement, then what's the issue?” Caesar asks, sipping his drink.

“The issue, sir, is this.” Leona snapped her fingers, and the hologram changed to scenes taking place throughout the month as observed by Leona. One showed a worker hacking and coughing a cloud of gas after pouring a mix of chemicals into a vat. Another showed a worker suffering severe chemical burns after accidentally getting a small splash of untreated SAD chemicals on him and was rushed to the infirmary on the second floor. Another showed a severe machine malfunction that wound up costing a man his life.

“There is a severe lack of safety protocols within the lab. Prolonged exposure to such harmful chemicals has already caused noticeable damage to the workers.“

“Oh, please, is this what this meeting was about? Lab safety protocols?” Caesar rolls his eyes. “Who cares! There are more than enough workers here to supply an endless amount of SAD! So what if a few drop dead!?”

“Sure, it may seem that way now, but if they continue to be fully exposed to the toxic fumes and radiation, I’d give it about a year and a half until every single worker winds up dead one way or another.”

Leona then retrieves a few slips of paper from the folder she brought, handing them to Caesar.

“And according to my calculations here,” Loena said, tracing her finger down the graph she drew, “...If we lose all of our workers, we'll have no SAD. And if we have no SAD…”

Caesar flinched when he noticed Leona’s glowing white eyes boring holes into him. “ Joker will start looking into things himself . And you wouldn’t want that, would you?”

The scientist ground his teeth. “Ggrrgh… fine! You’ve twisted my arm! You'd better have come up with a damn good plan!”

Leona grinned, pushing her glasses up. “Naturally.”

Leona snapped her fingers again, and the image changed from scenes of the lab to an image of one of the many workers with working legs.

“Observe our average able-bodied employee,” she says. “As it stands, none of them, from what I've seen, wield devil fruit abilities to speak of, making them highly vulnerable in their setting. As such, they will need protective hazmat suits.”

Snap .

The hologram fizzled and reformed into the same worker, but enveloped in a thick, full-body suit with a circular face guard.

“I've designed a hazmat suit capable of withstanding radiation, corrosion, extreme underwater pressure, shock, and extreme temperatures—hot and cold—to survive the island's climate. I've spent the last month testing a few prototypes for the suit, and lo and behold, this one withstood everything that was thrown at it. If we get everyone wearing these, production rates will go through the roof! No longer will we suffer casualties!”

Caesar swirled his drink, looking utterly bored. “Uh huh… and how much time and funding am I losing by producing these?”

Leona took a long, deep breath through her nose. “...Not to worry, Master. Joker managed to pull some strings to have these suits mass-produced for an exponentially low cost. If anything, it's practically printing you money!”

Caesar seemed to perk up at that. “Is that so? Well, that's perfect, then!” He stood up, downed what was left of his cocktail, and sauntered to his bar with a spring in his step. “Continue with this hazmat suit business, Penumbra! You have no further objections from me!”

“Thank you, Master!” Leona swooned theatrically as Caesar dismissed the meeting with a celebratory refill of his glass. The hologram flickered and disappeared into mist, and Leona's eyes faded back to their natural colour as she gathered her folder.

“Allow me to bring you back to your quarters, Penumbra ,” Monet says.

“Oh, that's okay.” Leona waves. “I know my way ba-”

A firm grip on Leona's shoulder made her pause, and she looked up to meet Monet's piercing eyes. “I have to keep an eye on you when we're below the first floor, so I’m taking you.” The green-haired woman mutters through her teeth with enough venom to kill a giant.

Leona rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

***

“Interesting how you managed to fit extensive product testing into just one month,” Monet says as she and Leona walk through the monitored halls. “You'd be a terrible saleswoman with stories like that.”

“So what if I fluffed the pitch a bit?” Leona huffed. “The suits can withstand the cold and protect against the SAD chemicals. That's all that matters. And I wasn't lying about Doffy pulling strings. I told him I needed suits, so he kidnapped some scientists and had them make suits. Simple as. Besides, Caesar seems to jump at anything that involves money and his benefit.”

“That may be, but what do you intend to do about the incompetence of the lab chemists?” Monet asks as the two begin climbing a stairwell. “Unless those suits grant magic intelligence, it won't matter if they wear them or not, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm figuring that out,” Leona grumbles. “This is something you should've at least reported about months ago.”

“Like I've told you, Penumbra , my job isn't within the SAD production room. My job is keeping an eye on Caesar and keeping him happy.”

‘By enabling his procrastination…’ Leona thinks to herself as they finally reach the first floor. “Right, well, I'm only making sure this ship stays afloat , so to speak. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to make a report.”

Leona curtly excused herself from the taller woman, glad not to have her breathing down her neck for the rest of the night. She arrived at her quarters, scanning a keycard and entering the room.

Inside the quarters was a sterile yet quaint office/bedroom setup complete with a desk stocked full of stationery and a little nest for her beloved transponder snail, who snoozed peacefully until her next call. Leona kicked off her pumps, sighing with relief at being free of the woes of heels.

Leona retrieved a hair elastic from her lab coat pocket, tying her thick mane into a high ponytail. She nestled into her office chair in front of her desk, cracked her knuckles, and picked up the retriever on her snail to dial Doflamingo's private line. 

Purupurupurupuru… purupurupurupuru… purupuru- gacha.

“Penumbra, my dear. To what do I owe the pleasure?” the voice of Doflamingo came through her snail as his features took that of his signature shades.

Leona reached over to a jar sitting at the end of the desk filled with individually wrapped strawberry sweets, skillfully unwrapping the treat with one hand. “I'm calling to make a report, young master.”

“Very well, report at once.”

Leona popped the sweet into her mouth.

“Well, you see…”

Chapter Text

Five months in

The difference between Leona’s first month and now was night and day since she actually began taking care of the workers. There have been only a handful of machine malfunctions and workplace injuries compared to nearly a thousand that have occurred since the beginning of the SAD project, and even then, they were drastically minor. Ever since Leona had Doflamingo send some mechanics to assist the labs, there hasn’t been a full-blown overheating incident since the first month. And the best part? No deaths! The production rate and total volume of SAD per shipment had increased significantly as a result!

…though that isn’t to say they couldn't do better, of course. 

Recently, Leona has been exploring ways to add staff members while maintaining smooth operations. On one hand, if she has Doflamingo send in several low-tier members of the Donquixote Pirates, Caesar will begin to grow suspicious about Doflamingo’s true motives. On the other hand, if Leona were to hire several random people across the surrounding islands, there was always the non-zero chance of a marine or rival crew spy among them. Either option was far too risky. No, what they needed was an opportunity similar to how Caesar managed to obtain his current employees. That way, it'll ensure undying devotion to Caesar with no chance of a rat sneaking in and ruining it all.

…That said, though, what are the chances of that realistically happening again? Might as well save that for the next report. Perhaps Doffy would have an idea…

Leona retrieved her keycard from the breast pocket of her lab coat and scanned it at the door leading to the SAD production room. When the heavy doors slid open, she loudly cleared her throat to make her presence known.

“Good afternoon, men! How are things looking today? Anything to report?”

“The new batch is coming along nicely, Penumbra, ma'am! It's been rendered and has been cooling for the last few hours!” A man wearing one of the new hazmat suits said. “Take a look!”

The man veered his balloon mobility contraption towards Leona, offering her a clipboard with a chart detailing how much SAD has evaporated during the cooling process. It was unavoidable, as water was a main component in SAD. The evaporation allows the stuff to congeal into an easily containable semi-liquid substance. From the report, there was a noticeable decrease, but it was remarkably better than before. 

“Beautiful!” Leona grinned. “The next tanker will be showing up in three days, so to have this much SAD already cooling is fantastic! Let's take a lunch break!”

The lab erupted in cheers with several workers already heading for the door.

Leona suddenly felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to face the taller form of Monet, who always made a point to loom over Leona as if she were a predator stalking her prey.

“The News Coo just arrived.” She says, handing Leona a folded-up newspaper. She grins excitedly, licking her lips. “Lots of interesting developments have been happening since Newgate bit the dust.”

Leona narrowed her eyes up at Monet, hesitantly taking the paper from her hands. “Thanks… but you know you can give me the paper from outside my personal space, right?”

Monet giggled. “I can't help it. You're so short I have to bend down to talk to you.”

“You're not that much taller than me…” Leona mumbles as she turns away and unfolds the paper. “Let's see here… Hm… two new admirals have been chosen this week to fill the empty seats… ‘Fujitora’ and ‘Ryokugyu’... Interesting.” She turns the page. “Charlotte, Big Mom, Linlin strikes a deal with the Ryuuguu Kingdom to take over as protectorate following Whitebeard's death in an exchange for a monthly shipment of sweets…” she grimaced. “Those poor confectioners… I hope they never have a shortage.”

Leona skimmed the next few pages. 

Something else involving Big Mom and her territories, the Kidd Pirates entered a conflict with the Red-Haired Pirates but were forced to retreat… Wait a minute, huh?

Leona was about to turn the next page when she noticed a small torn piece of newspaper between the current pages. What was left of the torn page was:

“A yellow submari-

a single large crate. The crate contained 100 sev-

Marine HQ had no choice but to-”

Leona squinted. “Hey, Monet? Did you tear out a-” she paused when she looked up to find Monet had already left some time ago and was now alone.

“...Oh well,” she sighed, turning the page. “She must've had a reason.”

Leona's eyes lazily skimmed over the next article, finding this week's news to be uninteresting. Much of it was related to the Emperors and those now being called “The Worst Generation”, but it had nothing to do with the family or anything involving it.

…But then her eyes caught onto a certain headline on the next page.

“Hawkins Pirates claim victory on Foodvalten… Brownbeard humiliated?” 

Leona's curiosity was piqued, and as she read through the article, she felt the cogs turning in her brain.

“Brownbeard, a notorious man once known as the scourge of Foodvalten, was nearly killed following a territorial dispute between him and Captain Basil Hawkins of the Hawkins Pirates. He and his crew barely escaped alive from the dispute, with every member, including himself, having sustained a mysterious injury inflicted by Hawkins that seemed to affect their legs. They were last seen hastily crawling to their ship and sailing off as fast as they could toward the west…”

Leona couldn't help but clutch the newspaper in excitement. Could this be…!? A one-in-a-million chance coincidence just falling into her lap!? Foodvalten was close to Punk Hazard, and Brownbeard was heading in just the right direction!

Leona squealed in joy, dancing in place like a child who was told she was getting a puppy, and quickly beelined to the nearest Transponder Snail in the lab to dial Caesar’s number.

After a couple of rings, an irate-sounding Caesar picked up. “ Yes, what is it? Make it quick.”

“Master Caesar! It's Penumbra. I've just come across some great news!”

“Well, spit it out! I'm in the middle of something, here!”

“I'm not sure if you've read today's paper, sir, but word has it that the pirate Brownbeard and his men were severely wounded on Foodvalten and have fled the island.”

“And I should care, why?”

Leona couldn't contain her smile. “Because they're heading in our direction! This is a perfect chance to bump up our staff and security team!”

“...Go on,” Caesar said, now sounding intrigued.

“It says here in the article that Brownbeard and all of his men somehow lost lower body function from a wide-scale attack. If you tri… er, rescue them like you did the prisoners, we'll have more employees, more SAD, and thereby, more money.”

“Shurororororo!” He cackled gleefully. “A genius idea, Penumbra! I'll have them brought here at once! MONET!!! Send out an emergency call! I want th…”

Click.

Caesar's call cut off as he barked orders to Monet. Leona felt so happy she could burst! Doflamingo would no doubt be ecstatic to hear this!

Leona dashed to her quarters to make her report.

***

Six months in

The rap of Leona’s knuckles against the door of the hospital-like room that held the now disgraced Captain Brownbeard rang clear. “Captain? Are you awake?” She asks.

“I am.” She heard his gruff voice respond. Leona entered the room with a cheery smile. “Good morning! How did you sleep?”

“Mmm… as good as I'm gonna get, I s'pose…” the giant man grumbled despondently.

Since he and his crew's crushing defeat at the hands of Basil Hawkins, Brownbeard's been in a depression of sorts. A near-death experience at the cost of your legs would do that to anyone, especially to a man who was once as prideful as him.

Leona took it upon herself to help the medical staff tend to the injured pirates, paying special attention to their Captain. If she was going to have them join their ranks, she was going to have to sweet-talk the head honcho.

“Have you felt any sensations in your lower body at all?” Leona asks, placing an old medical textbook Doflamingo sent her on the table. “Tingling, pain, hot or cold, the like?”

“Not a thing.” Brownbeard sighs, shaking his head. “You could crush ‘em with a ten-ton weight, and I wouldn't bat an eye. Though I did get a shootin’ pain down me leg in the middle of the night again…”

Leona offered him a look of condolence over her shoulder as she picked up a small rubber mallet from the table. “Phantom pains… some of the hardest kinds of pain to treat. I'm terribly sorry, Captain.”

“Feh. You've been sayin’ that for the past week. You don't hafta be nice to a washed-up old failure like me.”

Leona detected a surge of grief emanating like a wave from Brownbeard via her Haki. Poor big guy… he really was heartbroken. It's as if all his dreams were shattered right before his eyes.

“Oh, don't say that… I promise you, we're gonna help you return to your former glory.”

“I know yer extortin’ me, lassie,” Brownbeard growled. “I wasn't born yesterday. Why else would yer boss be so eager to take in some injured pirates? It don't make sense to me.”

Leona's eyes softened. “I understand… it'd look suspicious to anyone.” She stepped up beside the gargantuan man. “I'm going to test your reflexes. Could you move the blanket?”

“Oh, pardon me,” Brownbeard said, shoving the blanket off his lower half and exposing his bandaged legs.

“You're alright.” Leona smiled. She climbed her much smaller body onto the giant bed to reach his legs.

“You see… my master, Caesar Clown, he's a kindhearted man right down to the soul. A real bleeding heart, if you will.” She tapped his knee with the rubber mallet, but it didn't move. “He's saved more injured souls on the seas than you could possibly count. Of course, it ended with him getting scammed, beaten and robbed almost twice as much. No matter how much you tried to hammer it into him that rescuing anyone who appeared to be hurt was a stupid idea, he never learned his lesson.”

Tap. Tap. Tap. No reaction still.

“But still…” Leona gave a soft smile. “To care so much even then speaks to the nature of his gentle heart.”

Leona pulled the blanket back up over Brownbeard's legs, sliding back off the bed. “I'm going to test your upper body strength now. You're familiar with these little hand grip trainer thingies, yeah?” She asks, picking up said instrument from the bedside table and squeezing it in front of him.

“Aye.”

“Good. Well, since your hands are nearly the size of my entire body, I created these last night just for you.”

Leona's eyes glowed white as she made a beckoning motion with her hand, and a giant-sized hand grip training instrument made of moonglass and metal wire floated through the door.

“Uoho!” Brownbeard marvelled. “Didn't peg ya for a fruit user.”

Leona gave a bright grin. “I haven't had it long. I'm still learning how to use it. I'm able to create things like sculptures out of this strange material I can make.”

‘Little half-truths,’ Leona thought. ‘Don't give too much away.’

“I see…”

Leona floated her creation into his open palm. “Alright. Now, squeeze as hard as you can!”

“Hhnngh!” Brownbeard grunted, gripping the hand trainer with as much strength as he could muster. The veins of Brownbeard's arm bulged, and his hand trembled from the force. It proved to exceed Leona's expectations, as the metal wire connecting the moonglass grips snapped.

“Ooh!” Leona marvelled, clapping her hands.

“Oops… er… sorry ‘bout that, little nurse…” Brownbeard said sheepishly.

Leona levitated the large grips from his hand and put them off to the side. “Don't worry about it! It's a good thing! It means your upper body strength hasn't suffered any nerve damage.”

Leona turned back to the pirate with a sweet smile. “Anyway, like I was saying, my master Caesar loves anyone and everyone he takes under his wing, no matter who it is. I mean, he even took me in at my lowest, even when I was a menace that fought everyone I saw!”

“You?” Brownbeard laughs. “Ya look like ya couldn't punch yer way out of a wet paper bag!”

Leona giggled. “It's true! Would you believe I once repaid him adopting a scrawny, poor childhood me off the streets with swearing, biting, scratching and hitting? I even literally stabbed him in the back once, and he never gave up on me. Once I grew up and realized what he sacrificed for me… I've been forever in his debt.”

Brownbeard stared for a moment before erupting into hearty laughter. “He managed to turn a violent brat into such a sweet little miss like yerself? That's a hell of a feat!”

“Tell me about it!” Leona laughed.

Brownbeard wiped a tear from his eye as he settled down. “Maybe I was wrong about'cha… I'm still unsure about the whole workin’ here thing, but…”

Leona gently placed her much tinier hand on top of the man's enormous palm. “You don't have to decide right away, Captain… you're still in recovery after all. But you know, we'd really love to help you find purpose in life after something so traumatic.”

Brownbeard blinked down at Leona, bashfully turning his head away and scratching his chin under his enormous beard. “...I'll sleep on it.”

“Very well.” Leona smiles, patting his hand. “I have something to attend to right now, but I'll be back to deliver you some lunch, okay?”

“Much obliged, kind little nurse,” Brownbeard says, genuinely grinning.

Leona waved as she exited the room and closed the door behind her, only to jump 5 feet off the floor when she immediately found herself face-to-face with Monet.

“Shit!!!” Leona gasped. “Stop sneaking up on me!”

“Hey, you're the one with the supposedly ‘powerful’ Observation Haki. Maybe you should use it more often.” Monet snarks.

“That's not how Haki works, Monet. It requires focus and intent, which saps stamina. I only use my Haki for important things, not for looking over my shoulder for you like a paranoid child.” Leona began walking off towards the stairs.

Monet just grinned smugly and followed her. “Sure, sure. In any case, that was an interesting little lie you whipped up. You better not forget any details, Penumbra. ”

“You know I have a steel trap memory, Monet. It's why I'm here. I never forget information I learn, even if I want to.”

“Oh, I know. I don't doubt it one bit, sweetheart. I'm only wondering where you come up with this stuff. It's almost like you draw from experience.”

“All good lies have a grain of truth, Monet,” Leona says as they reach the steps. “I always inject a hint of real lived experience into my deceptive stories, even if they aren't my own.”

“So in other words, plagiarism?” Monet giggles.

Leona looked back at Monet with an unamused expression. “We're pirates manufacturing highly illegal substances, and you're complaining about plagiarism? Please.”

“Who said I was complaining? I was only teasing you, Penumbra dear.”

Leona turned her attention back up the stairs. “I'll never understand you, Monet, I swear…” She grumbled under her breath.

Monet turned on her heel in the opposite direction, making her way down to Caesar's quarters on the fourth floor. Once there, she requested access, and Caesar let her in as he hovered over beakers and tubes of unknown liquids being combined.

“Master, I have a report about the children,” Monet says, placing her thick glasses on her nose to read from her clipboard.

“Report,” Caesar said.

“While things are progressing smoothly with the gigantification drugs in terms of growth, the side effects are proving to cause some issues.”

“Issues?” He parrots.

“The children who've grown the largest, namely Mocha, Sind, and Uzu, are having trouble adjusting to their new centers of gravity and are prone to fainting spells every now and then. There's also the fact that they're not used to their increased strength, which has accidentally harmed some of the smaller children. Today, Doran and Biyo got into a scuffle over sharing toys, and Doran managed to tear a good chunk of hair from Biyo's scalp and make him bleed.”

“Well then, tell them to knock it off! What do you want from me? I'm not their mom.” 

“Am I to understand you don't want anyone to look after the children between testing periods to prevent further accidents?” 

“They're kids! They get hurt all the time! If they aren't dying, then it's a learning experience!” Caesar waved dismissively.

“Alright, you're the boss…” Monet says, scribbling some notes. “But if things escalate out of control, you should have a plan.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, are we done here? I'm busy.” Caesar waved at her with a “go away” motion.

“Yes, Master Caesar. Apologies for taking up your time.”

Chapter Text

13 Months in

The hiss of hydraulics rang clear as the doors to Caesar’s personal lab opened, followed by the clicking heels of Monet’s shoes. “Master, I have a report on the children.”

Caesar didn’t turn around and face his secretary, as he was nose deep in Dr. Vegapunk’s research notes on Devil Fruits. “If they’re not about them growing to the size of buildings, I don’t care.”

“Well, that’s part of it, but you won’t have many kids left to test on if things are left as they are,” the green-haired woman says, adjusting her thick frames. 

“Oh for the love of—” Caesar groaned, pinching his nose. “What is it this time?”

Monet flipped through the papers on her clipboard. “Behavioural issues among the children have been starting to get out of control. There've been countless incidents around testing periods lately where the bigger kids have attacked the smaller kids when suffering withdrawal from their daily candy.”

“You told me this last month! Did you not have a few of the workers there to keep them in line while they waited, like I asked?”

“Unfortunately, the workers have proved to be too scary for the children,” Monet says matter-of-factly. “There was an incident yesterday where Ally broke into hysterics over a, quote, ‘yellow cyclops monster’, and slapped him away so hard, almost all of his ribs cracked. However, it should be noted that she was beginning to experience hallucinations from withdrawals at this time.

Caesar impatiently tapped his fingers against his desk while Monet listed a seemingly endless list of incidents. Workers being injured by the largest children after accidentally startling them. Workers treating the smaller children too rough. Infighting among the children resulting in injuries. Bullying, disputes over toys, bedwetting, allergic reactions-

“NNNGGGHH—ALRIGHT , I GET IT!” Caesar howled as he aggressively slammed the heavy book shut. “What do you want me to do!? You're the one who visits them every day for their tests! Why the hell can't you do it!?”

“Because, Master, you've also asked me to oversee security measures around the island, oversee your purchases through Joker's black market channels, maintain that all incoming or outgoing calls are encrypted, vetting any escorts ordered and brought to the island for marines or spies-”

“Stop that!” the scientist shrieked.

“You asked.”

Caesar rubbed his temples to soothe his oncoming migraine. “Well, if nothing's working, then what do you suggest? I'm too busy to take care of a bunch of brats!”

“Well, the children need someone who can pose as a trustworthy and sweet teacher that they can look up to,” Monet said. “Someone soft and kind, unlike the prisoners.”

“Are you kidding!? It'll take forever to find someone like that who'll know how to take care of a bunch of overgrown brats! I don't have that kind of time or patience!!!” The mad scientist shrieks.

Monet devilishly licked her lips with a mischievous glint behind her thick frames. “Ah, not to worry. I think I actually have the perfect solution to that problem.”

***

Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack.

The pointed heel of Leona's shoe restlessly tapped against the floor with every bounce of her leg. In one hand, her transponder snail receiver. In the other, she effortlessly flipped a coin back and forth along her knuckles. A nervous habit she developed years ago.

“I can't take it anymore, Joker!” Leona all but sobbed. “She keeps sneaking up on me like a ghost! I thought I'd get used to it, but she gets a creepier aura every time! Any time I get a chill up my spine, I know she's there somewhere, stalking me like… I dunno, like I'm prey?”

“Fufufufu… she's only keeping you on your toes, dear. You don't want to get too comfortable, after all.” Doflamingo's crooning voice spoke through her snail.

“I appreciate that she cares, Joker, but it's gotten to the point where I'm checking my room before I sleep. No matter where I go, I can feel her like ice on my back. It’s exhausting to keep using my Observation Haki so much…”

Her snail frowned, likely mimicking the expression Doflamingo made on his end. “Ah, it's true she tends to get… intense… when you're around. I'll contact Vergo about her behaviour if it scares you that much.”

“Please do. This is the worst I've seen her since she joined the family. Before, she used to just turn up her nose or say something condescending, but now-”

The hairs on Leona's neck stood on end, and a chill shot up her spine. Her Haki was alerting her to Monet's presence at her door. Ugh, now what!?

“Uh, I-I'll call you back, Joker, something just came up.”

The door suddenly slid open, revealing Monet, as expected. “Master Caesar expects you, Penumbra.”

Leona clapped the receiver back onto her snail, who promptly fell back asleep. “Can't he wait? I have a lot of work to do and-”

A frigid hand descended onto the blonde's shoulder. “If Master Caesar says come, you come. You know he hates waiting.”

Leona bit back the insults bubbling up her throat like bile. “Fine.”

***

“You wanted to see me, Master?” Leona asks as she's ushered into Caesar's quarters.

Caesar abruptly whipped around, a gleeful grin on his face. “Why, Penumbra! It's wonderful to see you. Yes, I have a proposal for you!”

Leona bristled. God, his false kindness was creepy. It was the kind of creepy that made her feel slimy and gross.

“A… proposal?”

“Indeed, indeed! How would you like a promotion?” He asks, emphasizing the word with his hands as if he were drawing a rainbow in the air.

Leona had a very nervous feeling twisting in her gut. “A promotion to… what, exactly?”

“What's with the hesitation? Come on, you'll love it! Come with me!” He says, guiding her with his hand on her back.

“Uh… o-okay?” Leona whipped her head back to glare at Monet, angrily mouthing, “What the hell is going on?”

Monet didn't respond. Instead, she just grinned smugly as the doors to Caesar's room closed, cutting her from view. Leona growled as Caesar pulled her along through the winding corridors.

“Now, Penumbra,” Caesar begins. “It may come as a shock to you, but I have some… side experiments going on here in the labs.”

“Wooow, really?” Leona simpered. Yeah, no shit.

Caesar begins inputting a code into a large door. “Yes, and this specific experiment has proven to be more arduous than expected… many failures.”

“Oh?”

The door opened, and an immense gust of freezing air had Leona clutching her lab coat close to her body. Caesar waved her to follow him inside, and when she did, she gasped. What lay before her was an enormous hall covered end to end in ice. It was dark, yet through the limited light from the door, Leona could see that there were giants trapped in the ice.

…a LOT of giants.

“What… what's this?” Leona asks, gazing restlessly at the countless giant faces literally frozen in agony beneath the ice. “These are all…”

“Giants?” Caesar finishes for her. “Not quite. Well, some of them are full-blooded giants, sure… everything else is nothing but failures.”

“What does that mean?” She asks as she jogs to keep up with his long strides.

“You know that one Emperor, Big Mom?” Caesar says. “A couple of years ago, she commissioned me to create a super drug that would turn ordinary humans into giants. Something about them being the only race not living in her all-races utopia, blah blah blah…” he recounts lazily. “I've been pouring my blood, sweat, and tears into it, but no matter what I did, they all died.”

“All of them?” Leona asked, gazing at each giant they passed. “If there's this many here… how many were actually successful?”

“Lamentably… zero. However! I've recently had a breakthrough in regards to why all of the subjects died.”

“Oh?”

The two eventually exited the freezing hall into a normal passageway, much to Leona's relief. She was always squirmy around dead bodies, despite working under one of, if not the most notorious pirates of the modern age. 

“Yes, every subject was already fully grown. Young adults to elderly, every one of them had ceased growing, which made every inch they grew past it all the more agonizing, eventually killing them from the inside out.”

Caesar led Leona to a set of huge double doors with a keypad on the side. “And that's where you come in. The newer subjects are proving to be… difficult, to say the least. You seemed to charm the hearts of those pirates we took in months ago, so you should have no trouble with this assignment.

“Wait…” Leona begins with anxiety bubbling in her gut as Caesar inputs a code into the keypad. “These subjects… are they-”

The keypad beeped, and the doors opened wide, revealing a sight Leona hadn't expected to be anywhere near this island. An enormous children's nursery, decorated in pastel colours and giant-sized toys strewn all over the cushioned floors. And amongst it all…

…Several young children of various sizes strewn about the room, all wearing white clothes.

“Master?” A very large girl with curly black hair and brown eyes says as Caesar strolled into the room. All of the other children put down what they were doing to rush over to him.

“Good afternoon!” Caesar called out to them, putting on a sickly sweet visage. “Are you all having fun? Have you had your checkups for the day?”

“Mmhm!” The black haired girl nodded. “Miss Monet gave me a needle, but I was brave!”

Leo's eyes widened at the mention of Monet. She's involved with this? Of course, she is… she's always tight-lipped about anything below the first floor. 

“Wonderful, Mocha! I'm sure your candy tasted extra sweet because of your bravery, right?” Caesar giggled as the children swarmed to rave about their day to him. 

Leona could only stand and stare in awe at the absurdity of it all. Where did these children come from…? Whose were they? No parent in their right mind would let their children come to a place like this… how could they-

Oh.

Oh no.

Leona's stomach twisted at a sudden thought. No… could they be… 

Orphans…?

“I have some exciting news for all of you today!” Caesar's voice snapped Leona from her thoughts. “Penumbra! Come in! Don't be a stranger!”

“E-er… right…” Leona mumbles, feeling a bit disconnected from her body as she enters the enormous candy-coloured room.

“Children, I want you all to meet Miss Penumbra.” Caesar introduces her. “She will be your new teacher and around-the-clock caretaker! Please make her feel at home!”

Leona bristled. “Wh… huh!?”

“Oh, before I forget,” the scientist said as he rummaged around in his gaseous coat. “Here,” He unceremoniously dropped a lazily folded article of clothing onto Leona's head from his much taller level. Leona, befuddled, tore it off her face to unfold it, revealing a frilly pink apron decorated with hearts and teddy bears. Pinned to the chest was a name tag reading “Penumbra”.

“Wait, I don't-”

“We'll have your personal things brought down here so you don't have to run all around the labs every day. Monet will be here later to brief you on your duties. You understand, right?”

“No, I-”

“Good! Glad we got that settled. Be good to sweet Miss Penumbra, my dear children!” He said as he waved goodbye and walked toward the exit. Leona gave chase.

“Caesar, you can't just sign me up for this out of the blue! What the hell is-”

SLAM!

Right before Leona could cross the threshold, the doors shut in her face. No keypad, no card reader, no handles to open it again.

She was… trapped.

“CAESAR!!!” She screamed, banging her fists on the thick doors. “You can't just— urrgh… DAMMIT!”

Leona kicked the door out of frustrated anger, knowing fully well it'd be ineffective. That… that bastard! What is he thinking!? Leona is supposed to be keeping an eye on the SAD production! Who the hell even implied to him that she was good with kids!? Leona didn't know anything about kids! How is she supposed to-

“Um… Miss…?” A soft voice broke through.

Leona paused, looking over her shoulder at the multitude of innocent eyes all zeroed in on her.

Shit.

“Oh! Um, I-I'm so sorry you had to see that!” Leona floundered. “See, the Master is very unpredictable, so I had no idea that I was being moved here!”

“Are you new?” A large boy with blond hair asked. “I've never seen you before.”

“I just got here a year ago,” Leona says. “How long have you all been down here?”

“Um… I think it’s been one year?” the black-haired girl, Mocha, said as she looked up in thought.

“No, it’s been two! You came around the same time I did,” the largest boy in the room said.

“It was one year for Biyo, Ally and me,” said a girl with ginger hair styled in a way that reminded Leona of an onion.

“Wait, what month is it?” the same blond boy from before asks.

“I think the worker man said it was May… or… was it March?” a girl with a brown bob cut said.

Leona’s stomach twisted with anxiety again as she took in the information. They were down here with no natural light for this long…? And even before conditions improved!? Leona knew the state of the food the prisoners were being fed before she intervened, so what the hell were these children eating? Especially after growing beyond what’s natural for them?

Leona began to reach for the coin in her pocket to soothe her nerves, but then a sudden chill ran up her spine.

Monet.

Leona took a deep breath as the doors swung open. The children shrieked in delight at the taller woman’s arrival, swarming her.

“How sweet of you to take over looking after the kids for me, Penumbra dear.” Monet croons as the smaller kids attempt to climb onto her. “You’ve always put others before yourself.”

Anger spiked in Leona’s blood for a moment before she reigned herself back for the sake of the kids. “Oh, well… you know me!” she giggled, hiding her boiling rage beneath it. “I can’t ignore when someone’s in need!”

Monet giggled, also hiding deep-seated venom. “That’s why I told the Master that you’d be perfect.”

Oh, you fucking-

“Now!” Monet says, clapping her hands. I hope you’re ready for a long-winded explanation of your duties. Don’t fall asleep on me now, Penumbra.”

“Oh, how little you think of me, Monet,” Leona replies. She slipped the pink apron over her head and tied the back straps tight around her waist. 

“When have I ever fallen asleep during a briefing?”