What does it feel like when blood freezes?
Robin experienced it at this moment.
When the words, "I have joined the Marine 73rd Branch of Black Iron Town," slipped from Seraphilia's calm, unrippled lips, an extreme chill instantly burst from her tailbone, crawled up her spine, gripped her throat, and froze her breath.
It was an early winter morning. Outside, the north wind howled, and the stove fire had burned down to just a few scarlet embers, flickering faintly in the gloom.
Seraphilia did not leave before dawn as usual. Instead, she sat by the bedside, in the faint light of the dying fire, and informed Robin of the decision—one capable of overturning her entire world—in a tone that merely stated facts.
She explained her plan: to become that 'blade,' finding strength and sanctuary from within.
She even slightly pulled open her collar, revealing the hideous old scar beneath her collarbone, as proof that she belonged to 'the other side.'
Logically, Robin understood every word.
Emotionally, those words formed a poison-laced icicle that stabbed fiercely into the most painful part of her memory.
Marines.
The word itself was the scorching flame of Ohara's destruction, the roaring collapse of the All-Knowledge Tree, and the black silhouettes on the distant horizon that devoured everything when her mother pushed her into the sea for the last time.
It was the massive machine that had hunted her for three full years, leaving her displaced like a stray dog.
And now, Seraphilia, the person who had given her food, warmth, and books for months, who even allowed her to instinctively clutch her clothes for peace on countless startled nights, was putting on that uniform.
In an instant, all the warm memories turned into a meticulously woven trap.
The stew brought back late at night, the rare books painstakingly sought out, the awkward yet gentle massages... were they all just to numb her?
To gain sympathy with scars, to lower her guard with kindness—was everything for today?
To keep her, the 'child of the devil' valued at seventy-nine million Berries, stable, and then notify the Marines to close the net?
A massive sense of betrayal and icy fear seized her.
Robin sat stiffly on the bed, pulling the thin blanket carrying Seraphilia's scent tighter around her. Her pale blue eyes stared fixedly at Seraphilia's face, which was calm to the point of cruelty, in the dim light.
She unconsciously tensed her body, the power of the Flower-Flower Fruit flowing silently beneath her skin, ready at any moment to sprout countless arms on the walls or floor to buy herself even a second of escape time.
Seraphilia seemed to sense her almost palpable dread and hostility, and stood up after speaking.
"I will report in today. I'll try to be back tonight..."
She made no attempt to approach or comfort her. That perfectly measured distance now looked, in Robin's eyes, more like the patience of a hunter toward prey.
She simply placed a small, heavy bag of money and several packages of food on the table. "Use this for now."
Then, just like always, she dissolved into a thin mist and vanished in the faint light of dawn.
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