One Piece Grey Terminal Novels & Stories

"Moshi moshi?" a voice came from the other end. "Kon'nichiwa, Toyomi-san, boku desu, Grey. Tasukete hoshii n desu. Futsū no irai janai kedo, hijō ni jiki desu. Tetsudatte kuremasen ka? (Hello, Mr. Toyomi, it's me, Grey. I need your help. It's not a usual request, but it's an emergency. Can you help me?)" Grey asked in fluent Japanese.

I said, my voice echoing off the wet brick walls. ​"No," Julian said, his eyes flashing with a sudden, sharp intensity. "There is a man. A 'Eraser' in the Grey Sector. He specializes in removing Board tech from people who don't want to be found. But he doesn't take money. He takes 'Time'." ​We emerged into the Grey Sector. This wasn't the 2026 of glass skyscrapers and holographic ads. This was the old city—gritty, smelling of fried oil and ozone, where the streetlights flickered with a dying orange glow.

Every time he countered their attempt to block his command, they adapted, slipping through his defenses like smoke. Suddenly, the terminal locked. A single message flashed on the screen: “DEACTIVATED.” Grey froze, his breath catching. Whoever the intruder was, they had succeeded. The brain radiation sequence had been halted—disabled entirely. “This can’t be happening,” he whispered, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. His hand moved to the emergency override switch, but before he could activate it, the system shut down completely. The lab went dark, the monitors flickering off one by one, plunging the room into an oppressive silence.

The deterioration ceased. On the tea table behind them sat the military terminal recovered from Siberia. Motherboard long burned. Dead. Yet now flickering with ghostly white light. Startup bypassed. Blood-red English appeared across the center: “He looks exactly like me when he loses control.” Coordinates pulsed quietly in the lower-left corner: Seven thousand meters beneath the ocean. The Mother.