-Real World-
Fleet Admiral Sengoku is dead?!
The revelation struck Marine headquarters like a lightning bolt from clear skies. In a battle dubbed the "War of Marineford," even their supreme commander had fallen gloriously in combat. The implications of such a catastrophic loss painted a grim picture of just how devastating that future conflict would prove to be.
If the World Government couldn't even afford post-war pensions, how many elite Marines had perished in the fighting? Ten thousand casualties? Fifty thousand? Perhaps even a hundred thousand souls lost to the flames of war?
This context made the Marines' future acceptance of former pirates suddenly comprehensible. Even if Gin's demonic strength warranted recognition, such a decision completely contradicted current Marine doctrine. These were officers who could barely stomach the Shichibukai system—allowing a criminal with an active bounty to join their ranks felt more painful than death itself.
Marine Headquarters, Marineford
In the bustling cafeteria, Marines sat with their lunch trays forgotten, eyes glued to the Sky Screen's explosive revelations. The collective shock had rendered them speechless, all attention focused on a particular blonde girl seated at a nearby table.
Towering stacks of empty plates surrounded Artoria's diminutive form. Despite standing barely 1.6 meters tall, the petite officer possessed what appeared to be a bottomless appetite, continuously shoveling food into her mouth with mechanical efficiency.
This glutton is supposed to become our acting Fleet Admiral?
The concept proved difficult for anyone present to accept. Artoria had only recently joined the Marines, and while she'd been granted the prestigious title of Admiral candidate, her actual contributions to the organization remained woefully insufficient. Leadership of this magnitude required years of accumulated experience and proven battlefield command.
In terms of seniority alone, even if Fleet Admiral Sengoku perished at Marineford, the three current Admirals represented the logical succession candidates. How could this blonde newcomer possibly supersede Admiral Sakazuki, Admiral Borsalino, and Admiral Kuzan in the chain of command?
"Gion, if you're not going to eat that meat, don't let it go to waste," Artoria said, eyeing the untouched portion on her colleague's tray with obvious interest.
Despite witnessing her own future through the Sky Screen, Artoria showed no visible reaction to the momentous revelations because after all she knew this all are the narrative of his summoner Kaito. She remained the same cheerful, food-obsessed girl who had joined their ranks mere months ago.
"I've lost my appetite," Vice Admiral Gion replied quietly, pushing her plate forward. "Take whatever you want."
"Don't mind if I do!" Artoria beamed, immediately claiming the offered meal.
Gion studied the voracious girl transferring food to her own collection of dishes. Nothing about Artoria's demeanor suggested the gravitas expected of a Marine Admiral, let alone a Fleet Admiral. Could someone who seemed primarily concerned with her next meal truly guide the Marines through their darkest hour?
Yet Admiral Smoker—notorious for his rebellious nature and disdain for authority—had spoken of the future acting Fleet Admiral with genuine respect. The Admiral called Gin had displayed unmistakable admiration when mentioning Artoria's name. What qualities could inspire such loyalty from two hardened warriors? Did this acting Fleet Admiral possess some hidden charisma invisible to current observers?
War Room Conference
"If our salaries really double and we get a full month of paid vacation annually, I fully support Artoria becoming acting Fleet Admiral," Admiral Borsalino declared from his seat at the conference table. "This future sounds quite appealing."
The prospect of improved compensation had energized the normally lackadaisical officer considerably. If Fleet Admiral Sengoku could provide better pay, Admiral Kizaru might actually reduce his habitual shirking of responsibilities.
"'Establish the broadest united front and unite all forces that can be united,'" Vice Admiral Tsuru repeated thoughtfully, chin resting on her palm. "Can pirates truly be united with Marines?" She found it remarkable that such philosophical insight would emerge from someone like Artoria.
"The acting Fleet Admiral certainly seems to have revolutionized the organization," she continued with grudging admiration.
"Former pirates joining the Marines is one matter," Admiral Sakazuki interjected, his voice carrying its characteristic edge. "But I will never accept promoting criminals to Admiral rank. Such decisions mock everything we stand for."
Kuzan and Sakazuki's fundamentally opposed worldviews created an unbridgeable philosophical chasm. Like their respective interpretations of justice, their positions moved in parallel trajectories that would never intersect.
Despite the pessimistic future revealed by the Sky Screen, Vice Admiral Garp maintained his characteristic grin. "If even Sengoku dies in battle, I'll probably meet my end at Marineford as well. What kind of enemy could force the Marines to pay such a devastating price?"
Throughout the entire discussion, Fleet Admiral Sengoku remained silent, his brow furrowed in deep contemplation. As a soldier, he accepted that battlefield sacrifice came with the territory—his own death didn't particularly concern him. What truly troubled him was understanding the circumstances that would lead to such catastrophic Marine losses.
Had his strategic decisions doomed the organization to defeat at Marineford? Was his leadership directly responsible not only for his own death, but for countless Marines buried alongside him? The weight of this unrealized failure pressed down on the elderly commander's shoulders like a physical burden.
Sengoku had commanded the Marines for decades, but privately longed for retirement. The burning sense of justice that once drove him to dominate the seas had gradually faded into a mere decoration adorning his office walls. Years of compromise with the World Government had eroded his heroic spirit piece by piece, transforming him into little more than a sophisticated tool for political convenience.
However, Sengoku soon witnessed something that filled him with unexpected hope. The justice he had lost seemed to burn brightly within Artoria's golden-haired frame—a flame passed from his generation to hers.
-Broadcast-
"With proper funding and personnel, the Marines grow stronger every day," Admiral Smoker continued his conversation with Gin aboard the warship. "Just recently, I received internal reports that Vice Admiral Tsuru actually led a formal challenge to World Government orders. Such defiance was previously unthinkable."
Smoker's words prompted deep reflection from his colleague. Gin had only served the Marines for a few years, and his pirate background left him ignorant of the complex political dynamics between the organization and their supposed superiors.
"Were Marines always so subservient in the past?" Gin asked with genuine curiosity. "I assumed challenging World Government directives was standard protocol."
The resentment in Smoker's expression was unmistakable. "How could that be possible? The previous Marines were nothing more than attack dogs for the World Government—summoned and dismissed at will. Exceptional performance rarely earned rewards, while failures guaranteed funding cuts at minimum. In the old system, Marines who actually upheld justice were endangered species."
Gin couldn't suppress his laughter at this unexpected comparison. He'd never imagined that this well-connected Admiral would harbor such bitter complaints about his former superiors, delivering criticisms that rivaled any pirate's grievances.
Warming to his subject, Smoker began using his own experiences to illustrate the systemic corruption and incompetence that had plagued the previous Marine hierarchy.
Despite possessing Logia-type Devil Fruit powers, Smoker's only meaningful connection within the organization had been his mentor, Zephyr. But following the tragic incident that shattered his teacher's spirit, even that relationship had deteriorated. The "Don't Kill" philosophy that had defined Zephyr's career was undoubtedly crumbling under the weight of disillusionment.
After years of dedicated service, Smoker had been effectively exiled to Loguetown in East Blue, supposedly as a Captain but functionally as a punishment posting. Anyone with proper connections would have been transferred to Marine Headquarters, where rapid promotion remained possible. Officers sent to distant bases were treated like unwanted stepchildren.
Not only did headquarters restrict their military budgets, but personnel and equipment replacements became constant struggles. It was hardly surprising that remote Marine bases resorted to exploiting local populations to maintain operations.
Without adequate funding, subordinates became insubordinate. Without financial resources, establishing connections with superiors proved impossible. Officers found themselves trapped in backwater assignments for their entire careers, watching youthful passion slowly erode under harsh reality.
Confident that only trusted allies surrounded him, Smoker opened up completely about his frustrations. "In the past, the Marines' primary ideology was personal advancement and wealth accumulation. Justice was treated as a business proposition rather than a moral imperative. Starting from the distributed bases, corruption infected headquarters bit by bit. The old Marines were thoroughly rotten to the core."