-Real World-
The viewing experience provided by the Sky Screen had finally concluded. Another thirty days of agonizing waiting would be required before new images appeared in the skies around the world. For most people, these waiting periods felt torturous—an interminable stretch of time devoid of the revelations and entertainment the broadcasts provided. Only a very small minority of individuals genuinely hoped the Sky Screen would disappear forever and never return.
There was no shortage of dramatic news in this world even without the Sky Screen's contributions. Instead, the various factions and organizations across the ocean had fallen into a period of violent, aggressive expansion. The singular order that the World Government had worked so diligently to maintain for centuries was now being openly questioned by increasing numbers of people. On this sinking ship of global governance, not everyone wished to go down with the vessel when it finally capsized.
Some member nations that enjoyed stirring up trouble had begun privately instigating discussions about reducing the amount of Heavenly Gold—the annual tribute payment to the World Government—for the current year. Meanwhile, small countries that had previously sought to join the World Government's supposed "big family" of protected nations had begun slowing down their exploitation of citizens and chosen to adopt a wait-and-see approach. Why pay for protection that might not exist in five years?
The Four Seas—East Blue, West Blue, North Blue, and South Blue—were experiencing unprecedented turmoil. The number of pirates setting sail this year exceeded any previous year in recorded history, and the Marine system found itself facing challenges on every front simultaneously.
Even the common people at the bottom of society understood one fundamental truth: chaos was the ladder of progress. Driven by desire for wealth, lust for beautiful women, and raw ambition for power, a massive number of small pirate crews had been established practically overnight. They banded together and charged toward the Grand Line with the fearless momentum of newborn calves that didn't yet understand the danger of tigers. The Marine organization simply lacked sufficient manpower to handle this unprecedented surge.
Rather than allowing pirate groups to convert the working-age population into their cannon fodder, the Marines—with explicit permission from the World Government—initiated a new round of large-scale conscription operations. Their strategic logic was brutally simple: one more Marine meant one fewer pirate. They competed directly with pirate crews for recruitment, engaging in a war for human resources that was almost as fierce as actual combat.
All major factions across the globe were actively increasing their populations and strengthening their war potential, preparing themselves to cope with an increasingly uncontrollable future.
As for the most unfortunate party to emerge from the Sky Screen's appearances, that distinction belonged unquestionably to the Celestial Dragons. The divine halo that had surrounded them for eight centuries was being stripped away layer by layer, exposed as mere propaganda and intimidation. Even if they claimed to be a clan of gods descended from the creators themselves, the Sky Screen had proven they would still die when their time came. They did not possess an extra life simply because of their supposed divine heritage.
The death scene of an entire Celestial Dragon family aboard a Marine battleship had been discussed with relish in the Sky Screen's chat room function. The lesson was clear and undeniable: as long as a god bleeds, he ceases to be a god. Their behavior appeared more like that of arrogant, pampered pigs than divine beings. Excluding the outlier Doflamingo—who at least possessed genuine combat ability—they had no personal strength of their own and existed purely as the protected party. Sooner or later, they would inevitably be devoured by the very slaves they had raised and tormented.
And then there was the matter of the ancestor of the Celestial Dragons who had allegedly lived for eight hundred years. Whenever someone attempted to discuss this topic in the chat room, there would always be someone else who quickly interrupted and forcibly ended the conversation, redirecting the discussion toward other subjects. Weren't there plenty of other fascinating topics to explore? Kaido's unprecedented bounty, Blackbeard's mysterious Devil Fruit abilities, the elaborate conspiracy woven by Buggy the Clown—surely these were more interesting subjects?
All of this deliberate misdirection was orchestrated intentionally by the Five Elders. Since they understood they couldn't completely stop people from talking, they could only employ clever tactics to change subjects and divert public attention elsewhere. As long as the masses weren't actively discussing the ancestor of the Celestial Dragons, that was an acceptable outcome in the Five Elders' estimation.
Donquixote Doflamingo, the future instigator who had inadvertently leaked information about Im's existence through his message to Elsa, only discovered the full consequences of his actions later. He had been confined in the dark breeding chamber for several consecutive days without rest or reprieve, and had come perilously close to meeting death through deliberate neglect.
"Elsa, if you knew about it, why did you have to say it out loud?" Doflamingo's face was twisted with deep resentment and frustrated anger. The Heavenly Demon—who had always prided himself on controlling information and manipulating others—had been undone by his own future daughter's innocent honesty.
Two members of the Holy Knights followed silently behind him, serving as his armed escort. They transported him to a location where the Five Elders had been waiting for quite some time, their expressions grave and unreadable.
The group entered the palace proper, and the Holy Knights withdrew respectfully, remaining outside the chamber. Doflamingo's eyes were drawn immediately to the elevated position at the far end of the vast room. Next to the throne of the World Government's highest power stood the weapons left behind by the twenty founding kings—physical manifestations of the oath made eight hundred years ago, guaranteeing that no single individual would ever ascend to that supreme position and claim absolute authority.
The five elderly men who comprised the Five Elders stood respectfully beneath the empty throne, as though waiting for someone's arrival. Their posture was deferential in a way Doflamingo had never witnessed before.
Seeing this unprecedented scene, the formerly unruly master broke out in cold sweat. His skin prickled with apprehension. He hadn't expected to meet the true ruler today—the one who existed behind even the Five Elders' authority.
A tall figure emerged from the opposite side of the palace chamber, moving with deliberate, measured steps. The person's entire body was covered in layers of black cloth, concealing every aspect of their physical form. Only two eye holes had been left exposed in the fabric wrapping. The figure stopped beneath the throne and turned their hidden gaze toward where Doflamingo stood.
Although there was no overt killing intent emanating from those eyes, they radiated profound coldness—an absence of warmth that suggested a complete lack of ordinary human emotions. The gaze aroused the deepest, most primal fear in Doflamingo's heart. The Heavenly Demon suddenly understood with crystal clarity that he was nothing more than an ant-like character before this ancestor, someone who could be casually crushed to death at any moment without consequence.
Doflamingo swallowed nervously, his throat dry as he watched the figure in black cloth slowly ascend the stairs leading to the throne. After reaching the highest position, the figure turned and lowered themselves onto the seat with deliberate grace. The Five Elders displayed no surprise or concern at this person's actions—only deep respect and genuine admiration showed on their weathered faces.
After the figure had completely settled into the throne, the five elderly men simultaneously dropped to their knees. They lowered their once-proud heads in ultimate submission and called out in perfect unison: "Welcome, Lord Im!"
When Doflamingo witnessed the Five Elders—the supposed highest authority in the World Government—actually kneeling in supplication, his own knees went weak and threatened to buckle. He nearly collapsed into a kneeling position himself purely from the psychological pressure. But before the former Celestial Dragon could complete the gesture, Lord Im spoke first from their elevated position.
"Stand up." The voice was difficult to identify as definitively male or female, filtered through the cloth covering. "You have worked hard all these years."
The Five Elders could not accept such courtesy from their superior lightly. Since the Sky Screen's first appearance, they had been unable to locate its source or identify the entity responsible for the broadcasts. The World Government that supposedly controlled this entire planet found itself completely helpless against this alien phenomenon. This represented nothing less than a public slap in the face to the Celestial Dragons' authority, and every additional message posted in the chat room function felt like another stinging blow to their collective pride.
Doflamingo remained speechless in this moment, his mind racing. He had known for years that some Celestial Dragon had lived for many centuries thanks to the immortality surgery granted by the Ope Ope no Mi (Operation-Operation Fruit), but he had never known which specific individual had received this ultimate blessing. The name of Lord Im had been completely unknown to this junior member of the Celestial Dragon hierarchy.
The name "Im" was almost certainly a code designation rather than a birth name. No one seemed to know whether this ancient ruler was male or female, young or old beneath the concealing cloth. What was certain was that this individual had existed continuously since the World Government's establishment eight hundred years ago and endured until the present day.
The Five Elders had been replaced more than once during those eight centuries. They served as shields deliberately positioned at the forefront by Im—puppets designed to draw the world's attention toward figures on the visible stage, making the masses believe that supreme power within the World Government belonged to these five elderly administrators rather than the true authority lurking behind them.
"Are you surprised to see me, Donquixote Doflamingo?" Im's voice carried a note of mild curiosity, though the tone remained fundamentally cold and detached.
Im, the ancestor of the Celestial Dragons who had lived for eight hundred years, would still have preferred to remain hidden in the palace depths—playing with exotic birds and appreciating rare flowers in peaceful isolation—if circumstances hadn't forced their hand. But the situation had evolved beyond anyone's initial imagination, spiraling toward chaos. And the surname Donquixote always seemed to bring unprecedented trouble to the Celestial Dragons as a whole.
Faced with direct questioning from the Supreme Being, Doflamingo found himself unable to formulate an adequate response. He felt profoundly aggrieved and misunderstood. Everyone had apparently concluded that he deliberately leaked information, but how could he—Doflamingo—possibly have known so many dangerous secrets in the first place? Yet with blame already pinned firmly to his head, no one would believe him even if he attempted to mount a defense.
Fortunately, the Sky Screen had not completely exposed everything. The cryptic message that Doflamingo had left for his daughter Elsa made both Im and the Five Elders feel intensely curious and frustrated—an itch they couldn't scratch. They didn't know precisely how much the Heavenly Demon actually understood about the upper echelons of Celestial Dragon society, what secrets he might have discovered through his years of observation and manipulation.