"Dragon?!"
Even with his face hidden beneath the deep hood of a dark green cloak, Sengoku and Sakazuki recognized him instantly.
Dragon—born and raised in the Marines, once hailed as the pride of Headquarters. And the sole wielder of that singular power: the Wind-Wind Fruit.
Their eyes snapped toward Darren.
That bastard... he's still in contact with the 'traitor' Dragon?!
"Oi, oi, don't give me that look." Darren raised his hands, shrugging with a faint, amused smile. "The Marines need a win today, don't they?"
Sengoku and Sakazuki said nothing.
Because he was right.
The World Government was breathing down their necks. The pressure from the Gorosei, the public, and the battlefield itself—it was all mounting. They couldn't afford to lose.
And no one could deny it:
In naval warfare, there was no Devil Fruit more suited to domination than Dragon's.
It was no accident. Years ago, Fleet Admiral Kong had personally entrusted Dragon with the Logia-type Wind-Wind Fruit. It had been a calculated move—to mold him into the ultimate naval weapon, a Fleet Admiral in the making, someone who could stand toe-to-toe with the likes of Golden Lion and Whitebeard.
That had been the dream.
"So this is your trump card, Darren?" Sengoku asked at last, voice low and wary.
"Trump card?" Darren chuckled. "Maybe. Or maybe he's just doing us a favor."
He glanced toward the cloaked figure standing atop the distant skiff.
"Maybe he's not here because of me. Maybe he just wants to help the Marines out of this mess. Maybe this is how he repays the debt he owes us… for the man he used to be."
He smiled faintly.
"Who knows?"
Sengoku sighed. He wanted to argue—but there was no time. And deep down, he knew Darren wasn't wrong.
Yes, Dragon was a 'traitor.' Yes, contact with him violated every Marine regulation and could cost Darren his command, even his freedom.
But right now, in this moment, none of that mattered.
Dragon's arrival… was a miracle.
"Then…" Darren's voice was quiet, resolute. "Prepare to attack, Admiral Sengoku."
---
Thirty seconds earlier—
"Jihahahaha! Roger, your crew's just about finished!"
Golden Lion's roar echoed like thunder. His twin swords crackled with black-and-red lightning as they arced downward, twin meteors set to shatter the heavens.
CLANG!
Roger met the blow head-on. His blade clashed against Shiki's with raw force, rain plastering his hair to his brow, eyes fierce and burning.
"Impossible!" Roger bellowed, teeth gritted. "They're my crew! My comrades! We've crossed the Grand Line together!"
His sword surged upward in a massive arc, cutting against the storm as if to split the sky itself.
"Divine Departure!!"
Golden Lion's pupils contracted to slivers. The reflected blade of Roger's strike filled his vision—bright, blinding, unstoppable.
I can't block that...!
He remembered it vividly—how Rocks had fallen. Not because of Garp. Not because of betrayal. But because he'd underestimated Roger's blade.
The blade that changed the era.
A cold chill prickled across his skin. In a flash, Shiki twisted mid-air like a falcon banking sharply. The crimson arc of Roger's energy strike grazed past him, severing a long strand of golden hair.
He darted back in a blur, watching as Roger began to fall from midair.
A twisted grin spread across his lips.
"Refuse to bow, do you? Then I'll drown every last one of your men!"
His swords—Oto and Kogarashi—slashed through the air in tandem.
No steel emerged.
But the sea did.
RUMBLE...
The ocean erupted in chaos.
Water swelled and surged, layers upon layers rising upward into a monstrous tide. A churning, spiraling vortex roared toward the heavens, and within it formed the shape of a gigantic sea lion—towering, howling, its gaping maw aimed straight at the Oro Jackson.
Lion's Might: Sea Scroll!!
Onboard the Oro Jackson, the Roger Pirates froze.
Horror twisted their faces.
There was nowhere to run. Not on the open sea. Not at that scale.
Even Garp had never driven them to such a desperate brink.
And their secret weapon—the High-Speed Burst—was useless against an attack of this magnitude.
"Madman!!" Roger roared, eyes bloodshot, sword quivering in his grip.
It wasn't just their ship. Golden Lion's tidal catastrophe was swallowing twenty of his own warships too!
He didn't care. The lives of his subordinates meant nothing.
Roger's heart pounded as he watched the wall of water rise higher and higher, looming like a mountain of death.
"Jihahahaha!" Golden Lion laughed madly, reveling in the chaos.
"See it, Roger? See it?! This is the end!"
He'd fought Roger countless times before. But never had he pushed him this far.
If some disposable pawns had to die to claim total victory—so be it. There were always more pirates.
He didn't need Roger's secrets. Not now. He'd find the Ancient Weapons eventually.
But if he destroyed Roger here and now—then the entire sea would belong to him.
His eyes gleamed, aflame with ambition.
"This is my true power!" he howled. "Jihahahaha!"
"At sea, I am invincible—what?!"
The laughter stopped.
His body stiffened.
Something was coming.
He turned sharply, eyes narrowing. Below him, the Roger Pirates froze in place.
Shock.
Then disbelief.
Then horror.
"…What is that?!" Rayleigh whispered.
"A—a natural disaster!!" Buggy shrieked, trembling like a leaf, his voice cracking under the weight of sheer terror.
Dozens of pirates across dozens of ships fell silent—those on the sea, those in the sky.
Their eyes locked on the same point in the distance.
And all of them… gasped.
It was a storm.
No—not a storm.
A force of nature.
One of such scale, such raw, uncontainable power, that it made Shiki's sea lion look like a child's trick.
The massive tsunami roared forward…
…and was obliterated.
The wave collapsed, shredded into vapor as a howling vortex of emerald wind carved through it with hurricane force, shredding sea and sky alike.
The wind howled, alive and furious.
A storm unlike anything the world had ever seen.
Not summoned by a god.
But by a man.
A man born of the sea… and master of the wind.
This—this was a real disaster.
This... was Monkey D. Dragon.
To be continued...