Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh…
Above the turbulent sea, shattered pieces of Marine warships drifted on the waves.
In the sky, layered clouds, as though slashed by some invisible blade, trembled violently before slowly knitting themselves back together.
"Hoo… hoo…"
Vice Admiral Steelers lay prostrate on his badly damaged ship. His face was twisted in terror as he gripped the deck, breathing with difficulty.
Alive… was he actually still alive?
He could feel the constant crash of waves against the hull, the coarse grain of the deck beneath his palms, and the frantic beating of his own heart — yet even with all that, he struggled to believe he had survived such a horrifying assault.
"What… what really happened…?"
He tried to push himself up, his eyelids quivering, and looked out over the sea.
In the distance where Vice Admiral Onigumo's ship once floated, there was nothing but emptiness — no warship remained.
Shattered wreckage bobbed on the water's surface, revealing the scene of total devastation.
The bow of the ship Steelers rode was broken: railings and parts of the deck were gone entirely. By some miracle, the bottom of the bow held on, protected by the waves.
But the mast — it had vanished, blown away beyond sight.
The other warships behind him were also suffering: masts were broken, some resting on decks, others pressing against adjacent hulls and causing tilts. Some ships leaned so far they began to sink.
"Medic! Where is the medic?"
"My leg! My leg!"
Cries rose across the decks, soldiers calling out in pain.
But Steelers felt numb — as though his mind hadn't caught up with his body.
He closed his eyes, inhaled sharply, and whispered, "I'm alive… I survived…"
A shaky relief welled inside him. It felt like he had been granted a second chance.
"Cough… cough…"
Suddenly, a figure landed awkwardly on the deck from above, coughing violently.
"Admiral Kuzan! Are… are you okay?"
Steelers' stunned relief gave way to panic as he scrambled to support Aokiji, whose complexion was ghastly pale.
"I made it… just barely."
Aokiji refused help and brushed off Steelers' concern, running a hand through his tousled hair.
He looked over at the wreckage, shaking his head in disbelief.
"This is chaos.
Shirogai… Shirogai, you really are terrifying."
In the distance, a patch of glowing magma glowed fiercely.
Standing on that molten platform was Admiral Akainu, his expression grim as he surveyed the ruin.
"So many ships destroyed…"
Akainu frowned, eyes fixed on the debris floating in the sea. His Marine coat was torn in places, evidence of the brutality of the conflict.
"Pfft… cough, cough…"
Off to the side, a battered form struggled to stay afloat, clinging to a broken wooden plank.
"Vice Admiral Onigumo!" Akainu called, concern lacing his voice.
Onigumo lay weakly on the plank, hair wet and plastered with saltwater, his usual spike-like hair limp and motionless.
"I… I'm still breathing," he wheezed. "If I hadn't mastered Life Return, I would be dead."
He stared angrily at the corpses of his fallen Marines drifting nearby.
His voice trembled with fury:
"Akainu-sama,Shirogai Yamikuro ambushed us. Everything we lost, it was because of him!"
Akainu's face darkened. He turned his gaze toward the empty sky where Shirogai had last been seen and replied quietly:
"Yes, that bastard set the trap."
Onigumo ground his teeth, erupting in a roar:
"We must report this to the World Government! We have to capture him and bring him to justice — execute him!"
But his roar had taken too much.
His lungs, nearly torn apart by the previous destruction, rebelled. He began coughing violently again, blood tinging his spit.
"This vengeance… will be mine."
Akainu's expression froze in cold determination, his voice low:
"We will make him pay."
—
Marineford Beach, later that night.
Kizaru stood with his hands in his pockets, watching the shoreline.
He spoke softly, as though worried.
"To see you in such disarray, it seems Shirogai San was truly provoked."
Not long ago, at the worst moment, Fleet Admiral Sengoku had nearly broken.
Then Kizaru intervened — he had used his lasers to carve through a massive iceberg, slicing it into fragments, then worked with Sengoku to send an erupting volcano hurtling into the distant sea where it slowly sank, burning as it went.
"Hoo… hoo…"
At that moment, Fleet Admiral Sengoku lay on the beach, out of breath.
His usual gravity was gone; instead, he looked like an old man who'd exhausted himself at a market.
"You look like you aged overnight," said Kizaru quietly, a note of concern in his voice.
Sengoku grunted, weak but defiant.
"Quiet, Borsalino."
Kizaru, through his sunglasses, regarded the frail man before him — the same man who had scolded him relentlessly in his younger years — and managed a wry grin.
"When I think I'll be working for the World Government at your age… well, I admit, it pains me a little."
Sengoku sat up slowly, pain etching his features.
"That monster vanished… strangely. Did he sense our presence?"
Kizaru paused.
He turned his head, and his pupils narrowed sharply as he looked toward the distant night sky.
Fleet Admiral Sengoku followed his gaze.
The sea beyond them seemed to vibrate with a terrifying destructive aura, and Sengoku's face grew serious.
"What an overwhelming Conqueror's Haki," he murmured. "He didn't just strike Aokiji's ships… he targeted the heart of our fleet."
Kizaru sighed in resignation.
"I've warned before — we shouldn't make an enemy of Shirogai San."
"He's no ordinary threat. His Devil Fruit is… bizarre. He doesn't just mimic other Devil Fruit powers — he can copy racial abilities, too."
Sengoku frowned, his long beard rustling as he considered this.
Kizaru continued, bitterness in his tone:
"His clone — or whatever it was — used three distinct racial powers in front of us: the Mink Tribe's Sulong Form, the Lunarian Tribe's God's Flame, and something very much like the Germa's exoskeleton. No matter how we attacked him, even when his body twisted, he recovered almost immediately."
Sengoku closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded slowly, as though a decision had settled in his mind.
Finally he said, "Borsalino, I will report this to the Gorosei… and from now on, I refuse to make an enemy of Shirogai."
Kizaru froze. He hesitated.
"But… the Celestial Dragons will never approve of that."
"No."
A strange, cunning light flickered in Sengoku's tired eyes.
"They will."
_______
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