Cannonballs begin to obliterate the hull. Zoro smells smoke, tastes fire in the back of his throat. The odd sensation releases him and he gasps, heaving it, and untangles himself from the robe. Sunny is burning. The ship lurches as Franky seizes the helm, and Zoro scrambles to catch his katana with two tiny, almost skeletal hands.
“What the fuck,” he breathes, his voice panicked and high - too high, a child-like high.
