The hall was silent again.
Only the sound of petals scattering across the marble floor remained, glowing faintly in the dim light.
The Celestial Dragon who had been drained into a lifeless husk lay motionless, his once-immaculate robes now crumbling to dust. His face was frozen in terror — eyes wide open, as though even in death he could not comprehend what had happened.
Even among the Celestial Dragons, he had been considered strong — blessed by lineage, trained in the use of advanced Haki, and shielded by countless guards.But before Im, strength meant nothing.
The Gorosei and the other nobles knelt lower, their bodies trembling. None dared to speak, even to breathe too loudly.
Im had not raised her voice. She hadn't needed to.With that silent execution, she had already spoken the only message that mattered:
"Failure will not be forgiven."
The Gorosei understood.
If they failed again — if they could not recover the permanent pointer to the God Valley — their fates would mirror that of the corpse before them.
"Dispose of the body," Imu said softly, turning her back on them. Her tone was calm — too calm. "And make sure this never reaches the lower world."
She disappeared into the shadowed corridor beyond, followed by her attendants. Her white gown brushed against the bloodstained floor, leaving not a single trace behind.
For a long time, no one moved.Finally, one of the Gorosei exhaled, whispering hoarsely,"Lady Imu's patience has limits. We must deliver results… or we all die."
The others nodded grimly.
This was not exaggeration — Imu had executed Celestial Dragons before, casually, without emotion. Even the "gods" of this world trembled before her.
"Then we begin the search," another said, his voice low and urgent. "The Marine is too slow, too blind. This time, we act ourselves."
"The thief came from the lower world," growled St. Marcus Mars.
"No one else could have reached Mary Geoise unnoticed. Whoever it was, they knew exactly where to strike."
The term lower world — that was what the Celestial Dragons called the surface. Everything below the Red Line was beneath them, both literally and spiritually.
"To think a mortal would dare to infiltrate Mary Geoise" another muttered bitterly. "Unprecedented… truly unprecedented."
They exchanged tense glances. The situation was worse than they dared to admit — not only had the permanent Log Pose to the God Valley vanished, but so had the original Devil Fruit Encyclopedia, the master copy from which every known record in the world had been transcribed.
Both were irreplaceable. Both had been stolen in a single night.
And deep down, the Gorosei knew — there was only one person bold enough, powerful enough, and arrogant enough to do it.
Elior.
The thought came to them simultaneously, though none dared to speak his name aloud.
"Prepare the Cipher Pol agents," said Saturn, his voice hoarse. "Mobilize every remaining Seraphim. Begin searching every major island under World Government control."
"What about the Marines?"
"They'll clean up the corpses," Saturn spat. "That's all they're good for."
Meanwhile, in the lower world, dawn broke across the Grand Line.
From the shattered gates of Mary Geoise, smoke still drifted into the clouds — a quiet monument to the chaos of the night before. The Marines had begun collecting the bodies, some beyond saving, others still clinging to life.
The slaves were given no such mercy. To the Celestial Dragons, they were refuse — not worth treatment or burial. The surviving Marines carried out the orders in silence, disgust buried behind duty.
Even the admirals had questions they could not voice. Who could have done this? Who had the strength to invade the Holy Land and walk away untouched?
Not even the attack on Enies Lobby or the Buster Call on Ohara had shaken the Government like this. More than two hundred Celestial Dragons were dead — a number that, by itself, could set the world ablaze.
Somewhere among the ranks, quiet admiration burned in the hearts of the Marines.
Someone had done what they could never do. Someone had struck back at the so-called gods.
But they could never speak it aloud. For now, the truth of that night — the theft of the Devil Fruit Encyclopedia and the pointer to the God Valley — would be buried under silence.
And far away, high above the clouds aboard a silent skyship cloaked in mist, Elior looked down upon the Red Line. The stolen Log Pose gleamed faintly in his hand, its needle trembling, pointing toward the horizon where the God Valley awaited.
He smiled.
"Let's begin the next act."