The soft, comfortable surroundings of the plush bedroom vanished in a flash of light.
Replacing the white walls of the Egghead dormitory, heavy stone blocks and thick iron bars materialized. The air grew instantly cool and damp. Torches flickered softly along the walls of the quiet, isolated corridor, casting long shadows across the floorboards.
Hovering in the center of the dark hallway, Edison spun around in frantic circles. The small, mechanical Satellite processed the sudden shift in environment, his internal sensors failing to map their new location.
"Where are we?!" Edison panicked, his robotic voice pitching upward.
Looking past the hovering robot, the situation grew even more alarming.
Sitting on the cold stone floor behind a wall of impenetrable iron bars, York rubbed her eyes. The lazy, sleepy demeanor evaporated. Realizing she was locked inside a damp prison cell, the greedy Satellite scrambled to her feet, grabbing the thick metal bars and shaking them violently.
"Hey!" York yelled, glaring out into the corridor. "What is this?! Let me out! I need a nap, not a dungeon!"
Standing casually on the free side of the iron bars, the magician adjusted his dark sunglasses.
Turning to the man in the blue jacket, Edison pointed a arm at the cell.
"Why is York locked in a prison?" the robot demanded, buzzing anxiously. "What is the meaning of this? We are allies!"
"She is in a cell," Ben answered smoothly, "because York is the traitor."
The blunt accusation hung in the damp air.
Edison froze. Gears whirring inside his head stalled. The concept of a Satellite betraying the original body defied every fundamental rule of their shared existence. They all connected to Punk Records. They all shared the same foundational logic and goals.
"A traitor?" Edison repeated, shaking his large, bulbous head. "That is impossible. We are all Vegapunk. We share a mind. How do you know this? Why should I believe a single word you are saying?"
"Don't believe me," the magician offered calmly, stepping closer to the iron bars. "Believe York."
Raising his left wrist, Ben tapped the glowing Kimiyo beads resting against his skin.
A faint, shimmering stream of silver dust flowed directly from his sleeve. The tiny particles drifted effortlessly through the gaps in the iron bars, moving like a cloud of glowing smoke.
Watching the silver dust approach, York backed away, pressing herself against the stone wall of the cell.
"Keep that away from me!" the greedy Satellite shrieked, swatting wildly at the air.
The defense proved entirely. The silver dust settled against her skin, sinking harmlessly through her pores. The moment the particles entered her bloodstream, York stiffened. Her arms dropped to her sides. Her eyes glazed over, staring blankly ahead as her motor functions were temporarily overridden.
Tapping the beads again, Ben established a secure connection to Merry.
"Merry," the magician instructed quietly. "Bring out all the hidden files from the target's memory. Bypass the local encryption."
A soft, cheerful chime echoed from the beads on his wrist, confirming the command.
Projecting directly from the glowing stones, a large, high-definition holographic screen materialized in the damp air of the prison corridor. The screen flickered for a fraction of a second before stabilizing, pulling raw, unfiltered memories directly from the captive Satellite's mind.
Hovering closer to the hologram, Edison watched in silence.
It played memories of past few months.
The first memory showcased a dark, abandoned sector deep within the lowest levels of Egghead Island. Old, rusted machinery littered the floor. Huddled in the corners of a makeshift cell, dozens of starving, battered figures wearing tattered white suits wept in despair.
"Those are the missing Cipher Pol agents," Edison gasped, recognizing the uniforms of CP5, CP7, and CP8. "She locked them in the basement? But the port logs showed their ships departing safely!"
The image shifted.
The hologram now displayed York standing alone in a communications room, holding a highly encrypted Den Den Mushi. The snail wore the distinct, regal features associated with the rulers of the World Government.
The audio from the memory played clearly into the corridor.
"Dr. Vegapunk is studying the Poneglyphs," York's recorded voice whispered into the receiver. "He is continuing the forbidden research of Ohara. I have secured the evidence."
"And what is your price for this information?" a deep, commanding voice replied from the snail.
"I want to be a Celestial Dragon," York demanded, a wicked, greedy smile stretching across her face in the memory. "Make me a noble, and I will ensure the rest of the Satellites and the original body are eliminated."
The projection faded, plunging the corridor back into the dim light of the flickering torches.
Hovering in the center of the hallway, Edison remained still. The irrefutable proof of the betrayal shattered the robot's worldview. The greed aspect of their shared personality had mutated, twisting into a dark ambition that threatened to destroy their creator for the sake of personal luxury.
Turning away from the empty air, the small robot looked at the man in the blue jacket.
"Do you believe me now?" Ben asked.
Nodding slowly, the gears inside Edison's head began to turn rapidly. The shock faded, replaced instantly by logic. The impending arrival of the Marine fleet and the current chaos on the island required immediate, decisive action to mitigate the damage caused by the traitor.
"We have to release those Cipher Pol agents locked in the basement first," Edison outlined, hovering back and forth.
"I need to erase her transmission logs to Mary Geoise," Edison muttered, calculating the required firewall bypasses. "And we must scrub the security feeds to ensure the original body remains unaware of the betrayal until we have secured a safe extraction route off the island."
"Leave the mind to me," Ben offered, raising his wrist once more. "Take care of the logistics."
Turning his attention back to the blank, staring Satellite inside the cell, the magician did not harbor any vindictive anger. Erasing an enemy was simple, but reprogramming an asset provided far more value for the coming conflict.
"Merry," Ben commanded, keeping his voice smooth and steady. "Remove all affiliations to the World Government. Erase the ambition regarding the Celestial Dragons. Scrub the unnecessary betrayal protocols and restore her baseline loyalty to the original Vegapunk. Make her our ally once again."
The glowing beads chimed a second time, initiating the purge.
Inside the cell, the silver dust went to work. The process did not involve painful surgery or visible trauma. It acted like a gentle, sweeping tide washing over a dirty beach. The ambitions clinging to York's mind were simply dissolved, deleted from her conscious and subconscious memory banks.
The desire for a white coat and a bubble helmet melted away. The murderous intent toward her fellow Satellites evaporated into nothingness.
The greed was carefully trimmed back, returning to its original, harmless function: a simple, overwhelming desire to eat massive amounts of food and take long, comfortable naps on behalf of the collective brain.
Standing in the corridor, Ben watched the tension leave the captive's shoulders.
The glazed look in her eyes faded, returning to a clear, lazy focus. Blinking rapidly, York looked around the damp stone cell, unaware of the memories that had just been permanently excised from her mind.
"Ugh," York complained, rubbing her stomach. "Why am I in a dungeon? I am hungry. And sleepy."
The process was complete. The traitor no longer existed, replaced by a loyal, albeit lazy, member of the research team.
"Everything is sorted," Ben announced, lowering his wrist.
Snapping his fingers, the damp, cold environment of the castle prison shattered.
Returning the trio directly to the plush, comfortable sleeping quarters in the east wing of the Labophase.
Landing softly on the massive bed, York yawned widely, immediately reaching for a fluffy pillow.
Hovering over the mattress, Edison did not waste a single second.
"Get up, York," the robotic Satellite ordered, grabbing the edge of the blanket and pulling it away. "We have work to do. Follow me immediately."
"But I was just about to sleep," York whined, attempting to pull the blanket back.
"No sleeping!" Edison buzzed, hovering toward the sliding doors. "We have a severe containment breach in the abandoned lower levels. We must travel to the basement immediately, provide rations to the captives, and secure their release outside the island's defensive perimeter before the Marine fleet arrives."
Grumbling loudly about the unfair working conditions, the reprogrammed Satellite dragged herself out of bed. Following the small robot out of the room, York lacked any malicious intent, focused on finishing the chore quickly so she could return to her scheduled nap.
The heavy sliding doors hissed shut, leaving the magician alone in the quiet bedroom.
Walking over to the large, reinforced glass window, Ben looked out over the sprawling, futuristic city of Egghead.
Down below, the Straw Hat crew continued their joyful exploration.
The peace was temporary. The clock was ticking rapidly toward chaos.
Leaning against the glass, the magician adjusted his dark sunglasses, his mind shifting into consideration of the immediate future.
The current situation offered two different paths.
On one hand, he possessed the ability to simply teleport the entire crew, Dr. Vegapunk, and the Thousand Sunny and the island right now far away. Escaping the impending blockade required minimal effort. They could bypass the Marine fleet, leaving the World Government to find an open sea.
It was the safest, most logical choice.
On the other hand, an unprecedented military force was currently sailing toward their location.
Admiral Kizaru was en route, bringing a fleet of battleships capable of executing a Buster Call. More importantly, hidden aboard the lead vessel, Saint Jaygarcia Saturn of the Five Elders was making a personal appearance on the battlefield.
The true rulers of the world were stepping out of the shadows.
Staring out at the cloudy horizon, Ben weighed the immense risks against the potential rewards.
The crew had grown stronger since arriving in the New World. Defeating Kaido and Big Mom had tempered their Haki and proven their resilience. Luffy had awakened the power of the Sun God. Zoro and Sanji had broken through their own limitations, reaching the pinnacle of commander-level strength.
However, fighting an Emperor was a known quantity. The Yonko relied on brute force, durable bodies, and overwhelming Haki.
The Five Elders represented something different.
The rumors and fragmented lore surrounding the Gorosei suggested abilities that defied the natural order of Devil Fruits. Demonic transformations, immortal regeneration, and ancient, forbidden magic. Engaging the top of the world order so soon after the grueling war in Wano risked a catastrophic defeat. If the crew failed to overcome the bizarre, unnatural defenses of the Elders, the journey would end here, buried in the rubble of the future city.
Yet, sheltering them from the reality of the world would only delay the inevitable.
To become the Pirate King, to challenge Imu and tear down the Empty Throne, Luffy needed to understand the true nature of his enemies. He needed to feel the pressure of a Gorosei firsthand. Shielding the captain from the harsh truth stunted his growth.
A smirk slowly touched the corner of the magician's lips.
The decision made itself. The safest path rarely led to the top of the world.