Into every second go sixty arc-seconds, no more and certainly no less, and in every minute, sixty seconds; follow that with sixty minutes in every hour, and you had an entire operating system based around the divine measurement of sixty units. It was precise, reliable, nigh infallible and Raja loved it. Revered it, even, for its definitive nature, and the unforgiving exactitude it required. Such an arrangement was precisely what he needed for her own meticulous regimentation, for nothing short of the particularity of the time-frame scheme could possibly be acceptable for one such as he. Or anyone, he would amend, with a degree of candor he daren’t generally permit himself to take, but such exceptions could be made for glaringly matter-of-fact situations, which this most certainly was. The Devilheart, you see, believed that most everyone should adhere to regiment as religiously as he did. If this were the case, the world would run far more smoothly, efficiently, seamlessly: like well-oiled machinery, and perfectly wound clockwork. True perfection played out.

Only, this didn’t actually happen, couldn’t possibly happen, even. People, as it would happen, weren’t nearly as receptive to this idea as he was; they just couldn’t seem to find the reserves of energy inside themselves that it took to so painstakingly respect timetables. And energy, it did indeed take, to grow accustomed to the process, at least. Learning the intricate workings of it were strenuous, to say the least, and operating as a function of this was even more trying. It was well worth the effort though, in his oh-so-humble regards, for once one became used to this kind of activity, it became naught more than the very embodiment of simplicity itself: duck soup, good sir. The solution was clear, in his mind if no-one else’s: educate children of such practices when they’re young, desensitize them when they’re young enough to mold easily, too sweet-tempered to talk back, open-minded enough to understand. It was perfect.

This man (he'd decided) was totally unawares of the system he'd entered into, this "business", this lifestyle. You must totally commit oneself to these deeds, these people, these awful things that one must do to survive. He thought at least he would understand this. Raja, admittedly, had it easy at first. His life of hard work and early rises had indoctrinated him into something of a man of habit and routine. But Clocktower was far from the type, he'd come to realize. He was a performer, a Drama Queen, dare he say it. Every time had flare, pazazz, and showmanship to it. He earned for an unneeded audience, he craved it. His show would go on. Anything and anyone was expendable. Except...no, anyone was expendable. This man was the exact opposite of him and yet they somehow managed to create a cohesive unit without holding each other back. He watched the man, naked and bumbling around, changing attire, always flamboyant and obtuse. There was always a smile on his face, he'd found. He was unlike him in so many ways. Ways that he would never understand. How? He have to delve deeper but that would take time. Proximity, maybe? No, he was close enough, closer than he needed to be. They were simply necessary partners.

And then he spoke and flaunted his prowess, and gave himself away and all that he was, and ever needed to be. His wings floated him down to the ground behind the masked man. He'd be talking to dead people again. Perhaps he wouldn't hear the Shandian over his own monologue but he had knack for multitasking in that fashion.

They were nothing alike.

"I'd hoped to find you two onboard the ship and finished with this task. It seems Asher should have left the Shandian, as well as the Wily Heart Pirates, to me. Here I've dispatched whole a whole league of pirates and yet one man seems to confound you." He paused in his mocking, scanning the bodies on the ground then proceeded. You are an absolute creature, though. I will give you that. You know doubt reveled in their cries. The laughing man that you are."

He waved a hand at him, or rather the thought.

"The point is that you are precisely 20 minutes behind schedule at this pace. But you will see that I am someone who can help that." The large man seemed to simmer out of existence, awaiting Clocktowers information on the status and strategy of the operation. Still, he would not stand there, visible to any ole passerbyer.

"Your team has been deemed too slow, and therefore I will be taking over this mission as per Asher's request... Please, return to the ship."

And just like that, his voice was gone and if Ben couldn't see him for his invisibility before, then he couldn't see him now because, well, he simply wasn't there anymore. He was off to end this swiftly.

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With an awkwardly genuine smile, the newest of the arrivals slunk into the shadows, physically breaking away from his fellows and mentally putting them in the back of his mind. Though his comrades were each worthy in their own right, the mission was more so, and every little detail was of the utmost consequence. It was an important task—that to which he was assigned was—one that he dared not fail, lest the chlorophyll greens of the great tree of the World Government be rusted a dry assortment of melancholic browns. Unwilling to even treat such a sinful notion, he made up his mind, then and there, that the day would be seized for Cipher Pol No. 4.

Drenched in a cloak of epitomic transparent shadows, aided by manipulation of Devil Fruit powers, his figure was rendered all but invisible, even amongst the starlit shine of the facility lights—another silhouette blurred against a phantasmal florescent bulbs. He moved with great haste, yet finely reserved steps, cutting up to the top layer of building No. 4, how apt that the final target should reside in such a numbered structured. Thankfully, Ben and his counterparts had cleared the path for a direct encounter with Winter. It was only a matter of time now. Boots lessened in their load, his movements returned to their natural elegance, slowly climbing the remaining few steps to the top office. Though the journey thus far failed to live up the foreboding hype, there was a certain comfort in knowing that, was it demanded of him, he could fight atop the skies as he did on land. But, so could Winter.

Things were going to go well.

From the unblemished white of the warehouse like facility, there was a unique contrast in the lush greenery of a city. Though, both West and East Ilusia alike were born by the serpentine mother of Spring, one—it could be discerned—was clearly the rotten seed. Sporting a melancholy concoction of industrialized peoples, snobs, and racists, the city carried a monotonous tone of ash and smoke—despite the beautiful backdrop upon which is steeped. Building after building—many indistinguishable from home, sweatshop, hospital, or cemetery—carried on for row upon row, marking their territory with primed woods, flowery colours and marble finishes. While just on the otherside was the Marine base for the West Blue. How arrogant that he should set up his operations so close to his rivals; though, Ilusia was known far and wide for its Revolutionary invasions and battles.  

Moving through the cobblestone door, he fancied himself an angel of death, hawkish gaze fixed ambivalently upon man and surroundings alike. He was looking for something particular. Something that, if his reports were true, shouldn’t have been all too hard to find. And there they were—wings aloft his back as he gazed out of the window.

Shandian.

It was quite the sight. He so rarely saw another of his race in the blue seas.

"You think I did not know you were coming. Or that I can not feel your intense killing intent?"

Haki?! He would have known. His files would have deemed him worthy of the use of such skills. The game was spoiled, though, and there was no other reason to remain invisible before a man that knew you were there... somehow. He released the ability and the large dark-skinned man was now firmly a part of the room, his mass taking up more space than any normal man's body should.

Winter turned to view him and, for a second, was stunned. He saw Raja's wings, his breath and size and knew that he was Shandian. Raja supposed it had been a while since'd seen another sky person as well. Still, it would not save him from his fate. He was sentenced to die this day. Raja would not capture the man, no. He would simply end him and his affairs today, for good.

"You seem to know we...I....would come, and yet you seem the least prepared for such an encounter."

"You are...Cipher Pol. I will not survive this, I know that much. My only goal now... is to fight against your kind until I can no further..."

And then Winter launched himself.

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It happened almost too quickly to comprehend, but in the blink of an eye the charging Shandian outlaw was smashing into the tiled floor before he feet of Raja. The marble slabs cracked and soared into the air from all sides of the impact, scattering much dust and debris into the room. As the air cleared, a lone figure could be seen standing, his clasped fists held out in front of him, the clear cause of the man's sudden descent.

A chuckle crept from the widening grin of the Cipher Pol member, filling the chaotic air with a different kind of pollution. His chuckle turned downright sinister as he realization that this would never even be a fight dawned on him. Sure, he'd read the files but he didn't honestly think any of it was true. This man was no vicious killer worthy of his bountyhead. He was clearly every bit the pacifist that the paperwork made him out to be. That attack hadn't the slightest bit of killing intent to it whatsoever. He couldn't have hoped to end Raja without killing him, could he?

The seven foot giant, made even bigger by his instant zoan transformation, fell to all fours, hovering over the fallen criminal, slicking his elongated tongue out in front of him. The air had a particular taste to it and it sent goosebumps along Raja's scaled arms. He knew that taste, that smell... prey. Winter smelled exactly like prey!

"You aren't even going to try are youuuuuu?" He could not keep the humorous humming out of his voice, positively tickled back this turn of events.

The man's heavy breathing almost disguised the attempts at speaking, but he was able, finally, to form the response he wanted.

"I...don't have to...defeat you... you're a... Shandian being puppeted by the... blue sea people's government... you are... a joke."

Raja couldn't hide the sudden rage in his eyes, though he did not have to as Winter was still shrouded in debris and his own exhaustive attempts at breathing through it all.

"You are on...the wrong side of history...brother!"

"I am not your brother. Shandia, Skypiea, it all means nothing to me. The World Government stretches everywhere, you fool. Even to the skies!"

"The World Government ... can stretch to our dreams. As long as there is one of us, there is a resistance."

"Don't worry... soon, there will be even less than that. Thank you for making this easy... and for that, I won't end your life here and now... I take no please in destroying a man that won't fight back..."

"Viva...la...resis----"

Rajas armored, enlarged arm suddenly slammed down onto the man, crushing him into a deep unconsciousness. He would be carried back to their ship and sent to the closest jail to await sentencing for his crimes against the World Government. His job here was done.

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