"Wororororooo...! THIS is it! This is what TRUE invincibility feels like!" Kaido bellowed, his voice booming like a thunderclap across the broken battlefield. His colossal draconic form, wreathed in rolling black flames and arcs of azure lightning, coiled high above the ruined earth like an elemental force of nature made flesh.
The side of his body that had been scorched moments before now shimmered with steaming ash, rapidly regenerating, scale by scale, sinew by sinew. It was grotesque—his awakening had pushed his already monstrous resilience into the realm of absurdity, a level where pain became meaningless and injury a temporary inconvenience.
Before him, the giant known as Oars, revived and stitched together by Moria's dark arts, stood hunched, heaving, his massive undead frame riddled with brutal burns, gaping tears, and shattered bones protruding from half-healed fractures. The Shadow of Oden burned in his chest—fueling his will, amplifying his rage—but even with that, he was losing.
And yet—he didn't fall.
With a beastly roar that shook the clouds above, Oars launched into the sky, leaping with inhuman speed and force, a crater exploding beneath his feet from the sheer power of the takeoff. His gigantic hands—torn and blackened—clamped down on Kaido's dragon horns, yanking the monster mid-flight with a savage war cry.
Kaido snarled. "You think that'll work twice, corpse?"
He twisted violently, and in a blur of fury, slammed his serpentine body into Oars like a coiled whip, launching the zombie giant through a half-demolished fortress tower, sending rubble flying in every direction. The sky lit up with the clash of two monsters—one dead but unyielding, the other living but near-divine in might.
Kaido didn't stop.
He surged forward with terrifying speed for something so massive. His body spiraled, blackened flames erupting from his mouth, and he unleashed a hellish Boro Breath, the beam carving a molten trench through the battlefield and engulfing Oars mid-recovery.
The undead behemoth screamed—his body engulfed in flames, chunks of necrotic flesh burned away—but still, he moved.
Kaido dove, shifting form in a flash of haki-infused momentum, his massive kanabo materializing in his grasp. He came down like a meteor, club first, and with a roar laced with pure domination, he struck Oars across the face.
CRACK!
The impact echoed like thunder. A whole section of the floating island shattered below from the shockwave. Oars' head snapped sideways, and his mountainous body collapsed into a crater, unmoving for several seconds as dust choked the air.
Silence.
Then—the giant stirred. One trembling arm rose from the crater. Then the other. He stood.
Barely. One eye a hollow socket, his jaw fractured, skin sloughing off his ribs—but Oars still stood.
Above, Kaido's grin widened. Admiration? Amusement? Rage? Even he couldn't tell. All he knew was that this… this was fun.
Meanwhile, high on the parapets of a shattered castle wall, Moria gritted his teeth, sweat pouring from his bloated face. He was redirecting dozens of his general-class zombies, channeling every shadow he could command into Oars, trying to keep the beast upright.
"This isn't working..." Moria growled under his breath, frustration boiling into panic. "Even with Oden's shadow—he's being overwhelmed!"
Oars roared again—louder, more primal—as the shadow within him fought back against oblivion. The fight had become less of a duel and more of a siege—and Kaido was the unbreachable fortress.
But even Kaido could feel it: the battle was reaching its climax. Kaido's battle-hardened instincts screamed in warning.
For a moment, the skies above the war-torn sea shifted—air pressure distorting as if the heavens themselves were holding their breath. His pupils, sharp and reptilian, narrowed. A presence. No… not one—several. Fast, powerful, familiar.
"Wororororo…!" Kaido laughed, the sound deep and thunderous as he morphed into his towering Azure Dragon form, his serpentine body coiling high into the sky in a flash of wind and thunder. "So… you came to me rather than hiding behind your little island walls…"
But then, the shift. Kaido's senses sharpened further. His gaze snapped upward—and that's when he saw it.
At first, it looked like a speck—an errant spark in the storm-laced sky. But then it grew. And grew. A monstrous meteor, impossibly vast, shrouded in flame and smoke, hurtling down from the heavens like the wrath of the gods. It dwarfed even Kaido's immense dragon form—its size so enormous it seemed to swallow the clouds, its shadow blanketing the battlefield below.
The beast's eyes widened slightly.
The meteor wasn't headed for him. It was aimed for his fleet.
Below him, the remnants of the Beast Pirates were still locked in brutal combat with Moria's seemingly endless zombie army. Oars was down, reeling from the last blow. His elite forces, the veterans of a hundred conquests, were bloodied but still standing. If that meteor landed— They'd all be erased.
Kaido bared his fangs. There was no time to hesitate.
"BOLO BREATH!!"
A searing pillar of dragon flame erupted from his jaws, tearing through the atmosphere in a violent lance of destructive fury. It struck the meteor head-on—an explosion of heat and light so intense it split the storm clouds.
For a heartbeat, the flaming projectile slowed, even cracked. Chunks of molten rock sheared off and scattered across the sea like falling stars—each one crashing into the ocean with the force of naval bombardment.
But the core of the meteor remained. Still falling. Still vast. Still death incarnate.
"Tch…!" Kaido growled, fury blazing in his golden eyes. The massive Azure Dragon shot skyward, coiling through the air as flame-like clouds materialized beneath his sinuous form. They crackled and burned, lifting the titanic beast skyward with supernatural force. With a roar that split the heavens, Kaido surged toward the descending meteor, his long body twisting like a serpent god, not flying with wings—but riding the very tempest he conjured.
And then—
Clash.
The impact of meteor and dragon sent a shockwave through the air that shattered the very storm clouds, hurling wind and water in every direction. Kaido's claws dug into the blazing rock, muscles bulging beneath his scaled form. The flames licked at his body, searing scales and flesh—but he didn't yield.
He held it.
Mid-air. A mountain-sized inferno of death gripped in his claws, Kaido's tail lashed with all the might of a typhoon, slowing its descent inch by inch. Below, silence fell. The battlefield—both friend and foe—froze.
Even the zombies, puppets though they were, seemed to pause at the sight.
Then—
"RAAAAAAGHHHHH!!!" the Beast Pirates roared in unison, a chorus of war cries erupting across the waves. Their Supreme Commander was holding back a goddamn meteor with his bare hands—what excuse did they have to fall behind? Swords clashed, claws ripped, and their morale surged like a tidal wave as they tore into Moria's undead with renewed fury.
But on the deck of the Anne's Grace, Doflamingo's reaction was far different.
He stood at the prow, soaked in rain, wind whipping through his golden hair. His permanent smile twisted into something dark and cold. The spectacle before him was awe-inspiring, yes—but his hatred burned hotter than any flame.
"Fufufufu…" Doflamingo chuckled, but it lacked mirth. "That rabid beast even managed to stop your meteor Issho…"
Behind him, Fujitora stood calmly, one hand on the hilt of his half-sheathed Shikomizue. His face bore no surprise. Only the quiet dignity of a man who had already seen beyond the present.
"Well then," he said softly, voice calm even amidst the chaos, "I hope he can stop the next one, too…"
He slid the blade a bit further into its sheath—and with that deliberate movement, the air cracked.
Far above—higher than clouds, higher than Kaido's reach—the sky shimmered once more. Lightning coiled unnaturally. Then, emerging from a swirling vortex of gravitational force…
Another meteor.
No—this one was even larger, darker, angrier. Not flame-wreathed, but obsidian black, dragging entire storm systems in its wake. The heavens bent around it. Its descent was slow, cruel, and inevitable—as though the world itself had decided to crush Kaido.
On the battlefield below, the sea turned chaotic as whirlpools formed under the pressure.
The second meteor began to fall.
"W-what the hell is that!?" one of the Beast Pirates shouted, voice trembling.
Kaido turned his gaze upward again, now holding one meteor while watching a second, even deadlier one descending. His face twitched—not in fear, but in the twisted thrill of challenge.
"WORORORORO!!!" he laughed, the sound shaking the heavens. "BRING IT ON, YOU BLIND BASTARD!!"
On the Anne's Grace, Fujitora tilted his head upward, smiling faintly as his coat flapped in the wind. "Let's see how much the King of Beasts can really carry…"
As the second meteor descended, Kaido, already burdened by the first, braced himself. The two colossal rocks collided with a thunderous impact, the force reverberating through the skies.
Kaido's immense strength held them aloft, but the strain was evident.
"Rooooar...!!"
His flame clouds flickered, struggling to support the weight. With a guttural roar, he descended, landing on Thriller Bark. The floating island shuddered under the impact, the side Kaido landed on sinking while the other side rose due to the sheer weight.
The ground cracked, and the undead army paused as the foothold beneath them tilted unnaturally. The entire Beast Pirates stood awed by the sight of the massive dragon bearing two meteors.
However, the ordeal was not over. A third meteor, summoned by Fujitora's immense gravitational power, plummeted from the heavens. Kaido looked up, eyes narrowing. He knew he couldn't withstand another but didn't have the room to maneuver while carrying two meteors.
The third meteor crashed atop the others, the combined weight driving Kaido's dragon form into the island, creating a massive crater. The island itself snapped, the amalgamation of stitched landmasses breaking apart under the sheer force of the impact. Dust and debris filled the air, obscuring the battlefield. For a few moments, the shockwave was all that anyone could feel.
On the Donquixote Pirates' flagship, Doflamingo watched, a twisted grin on his face. "Fufufufu... Even the mighty Kaido can't hold forever."
Beside him, Fujitora sheathed his sword fully with a click, sweat on his brow. "That was the limit," he murmured. "I can't summon another simultaneously."
As the dust settled, the part of Thriller Bark that had snapped sank, engulfed in flames and molten metal.
"Rooooar!" With a bloodcurdling cry, a massive beam of energy tore through the debris from underground, from where Kaido was buried. Kaido emerged from the crater, reverted to his hybrid form, bloodied but unbroken, his wounds closing at a monstrous rate. His eyes burned with fury, and his roar shook the very air. The battle was far from over.
Kaido's awakened hybrid form was a terrifying sight. His muscular frame was covered in azure scales, his face more dragon-like with jagged teeth and beast-like eyebrows. A flowing, flame-like sash floated around his back, a sign of his awakened Zoan.
"Wororororo...! Not bad, not bad at all... but if this is all you have got, then today will be the day you die, Doflamingoooooo...!" Kaido roared in rage as his wounds mended at a rate visible to the naked eye.
Doflamingo couldn't help but frown when he finally laid eyes on Kaido's hybrid form. When he was in his dragon form, it wasn't evident, but now it was clear. Kaido had somehow managed to awaken his devil fruit ability, and that azure-colored sash around his back, floating like the divine grace of a god, showed that he had truly awakened.
The battlefield trembled as Kaido prepared to unleash his fury, the awakened beast ready to continue the fight.
"Kaido…! You bastard! I'm your opponent—fight me!"
Moria's roar echoed across the ruined battlefield, his voice carried by the howling winds and crashing waves. He stood atop the crumbling spire of what remained of his once-mighty fortress, his shadowed cloak whipping behind him in the storm. But beneath the bluster in his voice, a flicker of something far more human stirred—a deep, gnawing fear.
His heart pounded, not from excitement, but dread. His instincts screamed at him to descend and engage the monster in battle, to reclaim the pride that had been ripped from him all those years ago. But logic clawed at the edge of his bravado, whispering truths he didn't want to admit.
Moria's gaze shifted downward—toward Oars.
The undead giant knelt on the shattered island, steam rising from its body where molten debris had scorched its patchwork flesh. Though zombies didn't feel pain, it was clear even this titan was reaching its limit.
The damage had accumulated like splinters in an overused puppet—each wound deepening the rift in its stitched seams. Cracks in its joints. Slack in its sinews. It was only a matter of time before it collapsed for good.
Unlike Kaido. The Beast. The Calamity. The Immortal Monster.
Kaido, still wreathed in wisps of rising smoke, turned his massive head toward the spire where Moria stood. His expression wasn't anger or fury—it was disinterest. A snort escaped his nostrils, followed by a puff of residual flame.
Moria wasn't his target anymore. Kaido's attention was now squarely on the ones he had come for—Doflamingo, Fujitora, and their army.
The spire trembled beneath Moria's feet as Kaido casually raised his kanabo, now wreathed in black, crackling Armament Haki so intense it rippled like a storm around the weapon's head.
Then—
"BOOOM!"
With an earth-shattering roar, Kaido brought the kanabo down in a titanic arc, slamming it into the island with the force of a cataclysm. The ground screamed as it split apart—an enormous crater exploded outward from the impact point, shockwaves racing across the battlefield. Debris was launched into the sky like cannon fire.
The shockwave reached the spire within moments. The foundation beneath Moria cracked like brittle glass, and the towering structure began to collapse, groaning as it tilted and crumbled into dust.
Moria's eyes widened, the bravado gone from his face.
Without hesitation, his body melted into a swarm of dark, shrieking bats, scattering from the crumbling spire. The flurry of wings circled in desperation before reassembling beside the downed body of Oars, where he rematerialized with a grim scowl.
His hand extended over the battered form of the zombie behemoth.
"If I'm going to stand a chance…" he muttered through clenched teeth, "…I'll need every ounce of your strength, Oars."
The shadow-shadows stirred again—long, unnatural tendrils slithering across the broken battlefield as Moria began weaving more power into his monstrous creation. This fight was no longer about pride. It was about survival.
And on the other side of the battlefield, Kaido—eyes burning with primal focus—slowly raised his kanabo again, the island shaking under his presence like it feared him.
****
"Did you find him…?"
Whitebeard's voice rumbled like a distant earthquake—low, cold, and hollow, as if it had risen from the abyss itself. His massive arms cradled the lifeless forms of his fallen division commanders, their blood long dried and their bodies already succumbing to the rot of death. And yet, he held them close without flinching, eyes bloodshot, breath ragged.
Even Marco—stoic and strong—could barely remain standing. His fists trembled at his sides, and his jaw was clenched so tightly it might shatter. He had never seen "Pops" like this. Not even after Oden. This wasn't grief. This was fury.
Beneath their feet, the very earth pulsed with danger. Hairline cracks snaked across the scorched terrain, the raw tremor energy of the Gura Gura no Mi bubbling beneath the surface like a dam about to explode.
Marco had scoured the entire nation for survivors. What he found instead was a graveyard—an entire kingdom turned to ash. Smoke hung in the air like a funeral shroud. Not a single enemy body was recovered. Whoever had done this had vanished like ghosts, leaving only devastation behind.
"Pops…"
Jozu's voice rang out—urgent, desperate. The giant of a man came barreling through the ruins at full sprint, flanked by members of several other divisions. Behind him, a makeshift stretcher bounced with every step.
Whitebeard carefully lowered the bodies of his fallen sons, his hand lingering on their cold faces. Then, slowly, his gaze turned to Jozu, narrowing with intensity.
"Marco… save him. He's still alive." Jozu shouted, breath ragged, his diamond-covered fists clenched tight with frustration and guilt.
Behind him on the stretcher lay Teach—barely recognizable.
His coat was in tatters. His body was a tapestry of gouges, burns, and bruises, bones jutting unnaturally beneath torn, blackened skin. His chest barely rose, his lungs hitching on each shallow breath. One of his eyes was swollen shut; the other stared blankly, unfocused. Blood matted his hair. His arm was twisted at a sickening angle, tendons visibly snapped beneath the skin.
The only sign he was alive… was a faint, flickering heartbeat. A weak, dying thrum. Like a candle on the verge of being snuffed out.
Before Marco could shift into his phoenix form, Whitebeard's massive hand clamped down on his shoulder.
In a burst of monstrous strength, Whitebeard launched them forward like a cannon shot, the air cracking around them as they vanished in a blink.
They landed hard just meters from the stretcher. Marco stumbled slightly, but his instincts took over. He was at Teach's side in seconds, wings flaring as he dropped to his knees. His glowing hands hovered above the broken body.
"Damn it…" Marco muttered, his voice low with pain. "What the hell happened to you, Teach…?"
His brow furrowed as he scanned the extent of the injuries—too many to count. Multiple organs had ruptured. Internal bleeding. Burn damage. Rib fragments close to piercing his heart. His life force was clinging by threads.
This wasn't just a beating. This was a slaughter. He seemed to have been tortured extensively before being discarded.
And it was Marco who had sent him here—had temporarily reassigned Teach to Division Seven when reinforcements were needed for this isolated kingdom. That decision now weighed on him like a noose.
"Marco…" Whitebeard rumbled from behind, his voice softer now—but heavy with restrained desperation.
"Can you save him…?"
Marco didn't look back. His wings began to burn brighter, his regeneration flames flickering gold and blue as they engulfed Teach's broken frame.
"…I'll try," Marco whispered. "But… I don't know if it's enough."
Silence fell.
The other crew members stood around them, bloodied and furious, watching in silence as Marco poured everything he had into saving what might be the only surviving son from this massacre. Around them, the wind howled, and the ruins of the fallen kingdom groaned beneath the weight of Whitebeard's growing fury.
****
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