-Real World-
The revelation of Kotoamatsukami sent shockwaves rippling across the world like tsunami waves breaking against every shore. The Sky Screen had fundamentally altered how every person, pirate, and Marine understood the balance of power on the seas.
The idea that someone possessed the ability to distort the memories of the Hero of the Marines in his absolute prime—and had done so for over twenty years without detection—was beyond anything the world had thought possible.
On Whole Cake Island, Charlotte Katakuri sat in contemplative silence, his usually stoic expression marred by deep concern. The Sweet Commander's advanced Observation Haki, capable of seeing brief glimpses into the future, felt inadequate in the face of such revelation.
"Kotoamatsukami," he murmured, testing the foreign word on his tongue. The pronunciation felt heavy, weighted with implications that made his warrior's instincts scream warnings.
His thoughts immediately turned to his sister Pudding and her Memo Memo no Mi (Memory-Memory Fruit). While her Devil Fruit possessed similar memory-altering capabilities, the limitations were stark and obvious. Pudding required physical contact, specific conditions, and even then, her power was useless against opponents with sufficient Haki strength.
But this technique—this Kotoamatsukami—had penetrated the mental defenses of Monkey D. Garp himself. A man whose Armament and Observation Haki were legendary even among the most elite warriors of the sea.
"What kind of power can override such overwhelming willpower?" Katakuri spoke to the empty room, his voice carrying an unusual note of uncertainty. "If someone like Garp couldn't resist it, what chance would any of us have?"
He closed his eyes, trying to envision a confrontation with the mysterious Shisui. Those red eyes, he thought grimly. If I avoided looking directly at them from the beginning, could I mount any defense? Or would even that precaution prove worthless?
-Real World: Marine Headquarters-
In the operations room, the crash of splintering furniture echoed like gunshots as Vice Admiral Garp's massive fist obliterated the coffee table beside him. Wood fragments scattered across the floor, but the physical destruction paled beside the fury radiating from the Marine Hero's every pore.
"BUGGY THE CLOWN!" Garp's roar shook the reinforced walls of the building, his voice carrying enough force to make junior officers instinctively step backward. "How dare you tamper with my memories! How dare you make me forget my own granddaughter!"
Twenty years. More than twenty years of stolen time, of a relationship that should have existed but never could.
Fleet Admiral Sengoku watched his oldest friend's breakdown with a mixture of sympathy and growing alarm. He had seen Garp angry before—had witnessed the Hero's fury when pirates threatened innocents or when corrupt officials betrayed their oaths. But this was different. This was personal in a way that cut to the very core of who Garp was as a man.
"The Sky Screen may have exposed the truth," Garp continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "but that doesn't undo twenty years of lies. Ann is out there somewhere, probably raised to be a pirate, and I never even knew she existed."
Vice Admiral Tsuru stepped forward, her experienced mind already working through the tactical implications. "This changes everything we thought we knew about Buggy the Clown. If he possessed this level of capability twenty years ago, then we've been fundamentally underestimating him."
Her weathered face showed the strain of rapid recalculation. "More concerning is the origin of this power. Based on the young man's appearance—those distinctive markings in his eyes—I believe he's from Wano Country. A nation that's been closed to the outside world for centuries."
The Chief of Staff's observation sent a chill through the assembled officers. Wano was terra incognita to the Marines, a mysterious land ruled by the Yonko Kaido but otherwise shrouded in secrecy.
"If this eye technique isn't a Devil Fruit ability," Tsuru continued, "if it's some form of inherited bloodline power, then we're facing something entirely outside our experience. Something we have no countermeasures for."
Admiral Sakazuki's magma-powered body radiated heat as his fury built. "Are you telling me that some unknown bloodline from a closed country has been manipulating our operations for decades? That everything we thought we knew about the balance of power was built on lies?"
The implications were staggering. If Buggy had been hiding such capabilities, what other seemingly weak pirates might be concealing world-shaking powers? How many Marine operations had been compromised by abilities they didn't even know existed?
Fleet Admiral Sengoku's face was grim as he issued new orders. "Effective immediately, all Marine Admirals are authorized to withdraw from any solo engagement with Buggy the Clown. Priority one is preserving Admiral-level assets—if there's any risk of this Kotoamatsukami being used, retreat is not just permitted but mandatory."
The words felt like acid in his mouth. The Marines—the symbol of absolute justice—acknowledging that one of their greatest enemies possessed power too dangerous to confront directly.
"What if an Admiral falls under this technique's influence?" Vice Admiral Onigumo asked the question everyone was thinking. "What if Buggy manages to turn one of our top fighters into a pirate asset?"
The silence that followed was deafening. The idea of an Admiral-level combatant working for the enemy—not through corruption or coercion, but through fundamental alteration of their very thoughts and memories—represented a nightmare scenario that could shatter the Marines' credibility forever.
-Real World: Mary Geoise-
In the highest halls of power, the Five Elders contemplated revelations that struck at the heart of their centuries-long plans. The emergence of yet another member of the D Clan—and one connected to Gol D. Roger himself—represented a direct threat to the World Government's carefully maintained order.
"Roger's bloodline continues to multiply," Elder Saint Jaygarcia Saturn observed with cold fury. "We spent decades ensuring his true name was erased from history, and now the Sky Screen undoes all our work in moments."
The strategy had been simple and effective: classify information about Gol D. Roger, ensure only his epithet "Gold Roger" entered common knowledge, and gradually erase the significance of the D initial from public consciousness. For twenty years, it had worked perfectly.
"Portgas D. Rouge, Portgas D. Ace, and now this hidden daughter Ann," Elder Saint Marcus Mars continued the grim recitation. "Three carriers of both Roger's bloodline and the Will of D. All potential catalysts for the prophecies we've spent eight centuries trying to prevent."
Elder Saint Topman Warcury's aged face showed the weight of their ancient burden. "After we deal with Kaido and his connection to Joy Boy, the D Clan must be our next priority. Complete elimination—no survivors, no hidden bloodlines, no forgotten children raised in secret."
The room fell silent as the implications sank in. They were discussing genocide on a scale that would make the Ohara incident look like a minor skirmish. But in their minds, the alternative—allowing the D Clan to fulfill whatever destiny awaited them—was infinitely worse.
-Broadcast-
Deep beneath the flower-covered surface of Dressrosa, Brook moved through the SMILE factory like death incarnate. The Soul King's spectral form seemed to glide rather than walk, his afro somehow remaining perfectly styled despite the industrial environment's harsh conditions.
The Donquixote Family soldiers who had been guarding the facility lay scattered like fallen leaves, victims of Brook's Soul-Cutting Sword technique. The living skeleton's mastery over death itself made him uniquely suited for stealth operations—after all, what guard could detect an opponent who was already technically deceased?
But it wasn't the defeated soldiers that concerned Brook now. It was the dozens of small figures cowering behind overturned machinery, their tiny bodies trembling with fear at the sight of a talking skeleton.
"Please don't be afraid," Brook said gently, his voice carrying a warmth that seemed impossible from a creature of bone and shadow. "I'm here to help you escape this terrible place."
The Tontatta dwarfs—each no larger than a child's hand—stared at him with wide, terrified eyes. Their entire worldview had been shattered in the span of minutes. First, the strange tall folk had invaded their workplace, then a skeleton had appeared and defeated all their overseers with supernatural ease.
"S-skeleton-sama," one of the braver dwarfs finally squeaked, "are you... are you really here to save us?"
Brook's empty eye sockets somehow managed to convey infinite kindness. "Indeed I am. You see, I'm working with a very special person—a descendant of the legendary hero Noland. He sent me to rescue Princess Mansherry and all of you brave little warriors."
The mention of Noland's name sent a electric shock through the assembled dwarfs. Their oral traditions spoke of the great hero who had once defended their ancestors, who had proven that humans could be trusted and noble.
"Noland's descendant?" The dwarf who had spoken before stepped forward with tears in his eyes. "Is it true? Has the hero's bloodline finally returned to save us?"
"Absolutely true," Brook replied without hesitation, silently thanking Usopp for his creative storytelling. Sometimes, kind lies served justice better than harsh truths. "But we must hurry. Princess Mansherry and Leo are in terrible danger, and we need to evacuate all of you before Doflamingo's reinforcements arrive."
The mention of their beloved leaders' peril galvanized the dwarfs like nothing else could. Within minutes, they had armed themselves with improvised weapons from the factory floor—tiny swords, miniature hammers, even industrial tools repurposed for combat.
"We'll fight alongside you, Skeleton-sama!" he declared, his small voice carrying the conviction of absolute determination. "Princess Mansherry saved us all when we tried to rebel three years ago. Now it's our turn to save her!"
Brook felt a warmth in his non-existent heart at their courage. But as he prepared to lead them toward the surface, he noticed something troubling—his spiritual energy was depleting rapidly. The extensive use of his Yomi Yomi no Mi (Revive-Revive Fruit) powers had pushed him beyond his normal limits.
His spectral form flickered slightly, and his usual graceful movement became noticeably labored. By the time they reached the factory's exit, the Soul King was actually leaning on several of the stronger dwarfs for support—a sight so surreal that it might have been comedic under different circumstances.
"Yohohoho," Brook laughed weakly, trying to maintain his spirits despite his exhaustion. "Perhaps I should have paced myself better. The dead apparently need rest too."
Meanwhile, in the deepest portions of Dressrosa's underground network, Robin and Chopper had carved their way through layers of stone and earth to reach what appeared to be a massive loading dock. The air here was thick with the scent of the sea and the sounds of distant machinery.
"This must be where Doflamingo's people move their most sensitive cargo," Robin observed, her experienced eye taking in the sophisticated infrastructure. "Weapons, slaves, SMILE fruits—anything too dangerous or illegal for surface transport."
Chopper, who had returned to his normal Brain Point form after the Rumble Ball's effects wore off, looked around with wide, innocent eyes. "It was so quiet up there, Robin. I could see toy soldiers loading cargo just a few minutes ago, but now they've all disappeared. Where did they go?"
Robin's expression grew fond as she watched her crewmate's genuine confusion. Chopper's enhanced hearing from his reindeer physiology meant he could detect sounds that others missed, but his innocent nature sometimes prevented him from connecting obvious dots.
"I think they heard us coming, Chopper," she said gently, reaching down to stroke his fur. The soft warmth of his reindeer coat was comforting in the cold underground tunnels, and Robin found herself relaxing despite their dangerous situation.
There was something about Chopper—his unwavering goodness, his childlike wonder even in the face of danger—that made Robin feel protective in a way she rarely experienced. No matter what mistakes he made or what chaos his well-meaning actions caused, she found it impossible to be angry with him.
"Something's coming," Robin's enhanced senses, honed by years of surviving as a fugitive, detected the approaching threat before Chopper's more sensitive hearing could process it.
The ground began to tremble, and dust rained from the tunnel ceiling as dozens of massive figures approached through the underground network. When they finally emerged into view, both Straw Hats understood why the previous defenders had vanished.
Toy soldiers—each standing over ten meters tall—marched toward them with mechanical precision. Their oversized forms blocked out most of the available light, casting long shadows that made the underground space feel like a tomb.
But where Robin tensed in preparation for battle, Chopper stepped forward with surprising confidence.
"Robin, you don't need to worry about these guys," the little reindeer said, his voice carrying an unusual note of determination. "I can handle all of them in an instant."
Before Robin could protest, Chopper reached into his medical bag and withdrew a yellow Rumble Ball. But this wasn't one of his usual three-minute enhancement pills—the color and shape were subtly different, suggesting a more advanced formula.
The transformation was immediate and dramatic. Chopper's legs swelled with muscle, his hooves reshaping themselves into instruments of devastating speed and power. Blue electrical energy began to crackle around his lower body as his enhanced physiology interfaced with advanced Rumble Ball chemistry.
"Carve Hoof: Thunder Flash: Consecutive Strike!" Chopper's voice carried a new confidence as he launched himself into action.
What followed was a display of speed that defied conventional understanding. Chopper's enhanced form became a blue streak of lightning, moving so fast that he seemed to exist in multiple places simultaneously. His hooves, moving at velocities approaching the speed of light itself, carried enough kinetic energy to shatter steel with the gentlest touch.
The giant toy soldiers—imposing and intimidating just moments before—began to collapse like houses of cards. Each light tap from Chopper's enhanced hooves contained enough force to completely destroy their artificial construction, revealing the horrifying truth beneath.
Every massive toy was composed of ten human beings, their bodies fused together through the power of the Hobi Hobi no Mi (Hobby-Hobby Fruit). As the toy constructs crumbled, normal-sized people tumbled free—confused, disoriented, but alive and human once more.
The entire battle lasted less than sixty seconds. When the blue afterimages finally faded and Chopper returned to his normal form, the underground loading dock was filled with dozens of bewildered former toys, all trying to remember who they had been before their transformation.
"Incredible," Robin whispered, genuinely impressed by her crewmate's development. "Chopper, your abilities have grown so much stronger."
But even as she praised him, Robin's tactical mind was already focused on their next challenge. The sound of approaching footsteps—heavier and more purposeful than the mechanical march of toy soldiers—echoed through the tunnels.
The reindeer left blue afterimages in the air. In less than a minute, they completely eliminated these useless toy giants. Then they had to face the last few cadres of the Donquixote Family.