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"FROM world to Multiverse"
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The news of Blackbeard's new powers had settled over the Moby Dick like a funeral shroud. The situation had changed.
"He's building a wall of pawns around himself," Ace said, his eyes cold and analytical during the grim strategy meeting. "He's terrified. He knows we're coming for him. He's trying to bog us down fighting his new toys instead of him." He looked up at his commanders. "So we're not going to play his game. We're not going to fight his army. We're going straight for that bastard."
The hunt began in earnest. For weeks, the Burning Crown Pirates were a vengeance in the New World, using Marco's intelligence network and Ace's uncanny foresight to cut away at Teach's supply lines, gathering information for a single, decisive strike.
The trail led them to a desolate, storm-wracked archipelago known as the "Boneyard." As their fleet approached, it was clear they weren't the first to arrive. The island was already a warzone. Explosions rocked the landscape, but it wasn't a battle; it was a massacre.
On the main island, a fortress bearing Blackbeard's flag was being systematically dismantled by a single man. He was old, his long, silver hair tied back, his body a corded map of a lifetime of battle. In his hands, he wielded a massive, single-bladed axe, its edge shimmering with a Haki so dense it was visible to the naked eye. He was a whirlwind of pure, old-school power.
On the Moby Dick, in the infirmary, a nurse was relaying the visual from the spyglass to a recovering Whitebeard. The old man's one good eye widened, a flicker of disbelief and old memory in its depths.
"That old guy..." Whitebeard rasped, his voice a low growl of pure shock. "Get me a Den Den Mushi. Patch me through to Ace. Now."
Ace, who was preparing to descend to the island with Marco and Kuzan, was stopped by the crackle of his personal receiver. "Pops? What is it?"
"Ace..." Whitebeard's voice was heavy with the weight of forty years of history. "The man you are looking at... his name is Silver D. Morgan. He was the King of Argento... and one of the men who ever stood as an equal to Roger and me. Be careful, son. He is a ghost from God Valley."
The line went dead. Ace stood frozen for a moment, the name echoing in his mind. A king of a country. An equal to Roger and Pops. This changed everything.
He, Marco, and Kuzan descended from the sky, landing a respectful distance away as the old man finished his work. Morgan's eyes, sharp as a hawk's, snapped to them. His entire focus was on Ace.
"So," Ace said, his voice calm and direct, armed with his father's knowledge. "You're Silver D. Morgan, the last king of the Silver Kingdom."
Morgan's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise. "So, Newgate is still alive enough to remember me and my fallen home." He scoffed, a harsh, grating sound. "And you must be Portgas D. Ace….no Its Gol D. Ace now. Son of Gol D. Roger. You have his damn fool's smile." It wasn't a question. It was a fact.
"I'm here to kill the son of Rocks D. Xebec," Ace stated, his own purpose just as absolute.
"So am I," Morgan replied, slamming the butt of his axe into the ground. "Xebec died at God Valley, but his ambition didn't. For forty years, I've been hunting his legacy—every remnant of his crew I can, every whisper of his cursed ambition, every rumor of a potential heir. Your war at Marineford finally put a name and a face to that ghost."
A slow, harsh laugh escaped his lips. "Roger was a fool who drank my finest ale and then tried to recruit me on some childish adventure to find a treasure. But he was a good man. The only man who ever stood with me against Rocks."
His expression hardened again, the brief moment of nostalgia gone, replaced by the cold, dead fire of a man who had nothing left but his own hatred. "But friendship doesn't mean a damn thing now. My purpose is singular. To eradicate Xebec's bloodline from the face of this earth."
He looked from Ace to the Moby Dick in the distance. "Tell Newgate that Morgan has come."
His gaze settled back on Ace, and it was not the look of an ally.
"I will kill Marshall D. Teach," Morgan declared, his voice an unbreakable vow. "I don't care about your crew. I don't care about the Marines. I don't care about your father's treasure."
He hefted his massive axe, its silver edge gleaming in the dim light.
"And if you, Son of Roger, are foolish enough to get in my way... I will cut you down too."
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This Silver D. Morgan is my OC.
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