-Real World - Marine Headquarters, Marineford-
After sacrificing countless strands of hair—both metaphorically through stress and literally through exhaustion-induced shedding—the Marine Intelligence Department finally achieved a breakthrough.
They'd found one of the twelve mystery Admirals.
Not through brilliant detective work or sophisticated intelligence gathering. Not through extensive field operations or data mining across global networks.
Someone had simply walked through the front gate and announced himself.
To be completely accurate, the Intelligence Chief thought with bitter amusement, this isn't our success at all. He came to us after watching the Sky Screen. We didn't find him. He found himself.
But results were results. After weeks of failure, the department could finally report actual progress.
Fleet Admiral Sengoku sat in his office—considerably cleaner now after Tsuru had forced him to sleep and organize the chaos—listening to his Intelligence Chief's report with an expression that slowly transformed from skepticism to genuine surprise.
"Say that again," Sengoku interrupted mid-briefing. "Slowly this time. You found an Admiral candidate?"
"Yes sir." The Intelligence Chief consulted his notes unnecessarily—he'd memorized every detail, but the physical act of reading provided emotional distance from information he still struggled to accept. "Name: Aramaki. Age: approximately thirty-two. Origin: unknown, refuses to specify. Current affiliation: none. Reason for appearance: watched the Sky Screen, recognized himself as a future Admiral, came to join immediately."
Sengoku blinked. "He... recognized himself? In the preview image?"
"Yes sir. Claims he saw his own face among the twelve Admirals standing around Acting Fleet Admiral Artoria Pendragon."
"And he just... walked up to Marine Headquarters and announced this?"
"Essentially, yes sir." The Chief's voice carried notes of disbelief despite delivering factual information. "He requested a meeting with Admiral Sakazuki specifically. Said he admires the Admiral's philosophy of Absolute Justice and wants to serve under his command."
For several seconds, Sengoku simply processed that information. Then—unexpectedly—he laughed.
Not the cynical chuckle of someone recognizing absurdity. Genuine, relieved laughter. The sound of a man who'd been crushing under impossible burdens suddenly having one problem solve itself through sheer coincidence.
"After weeks of searching," Sengoku said, still laughing quietly, "after deploying our entire Intelligence apparatus, after driving everyone to exhaustion looking for these mystery fighters... one of them just walks through our front door?"
"Yes sir."
"Where is he now?"
"Currently meeting with Admiral Sakazuki in the training courtyard. They've been talking for approximately thirty minutes."
Sengoku's laughter faded into a satisfied smile—the first genuine smile the Intelligence Chief had seen on his superior's face in weeks.
"Excellent. That's... actually excellent." The Fleet Admiral stood, pacing with energy rather than anxious frustration. "The fact that he came here voluntarily shows he has a sense of belonging to the Marine system. That he specifically requested Sakazuki suggests he understands our internal dynamics. A powerful fighter falling directly into our pocket? How could I not be happy about this?"
The Chief relaxed slightly. This was the response he'd hoped for but hadn't been confident he'd receive. Sengoku had been so erratic recently that predicting his reactions had become impossible.
"Do you want to meet with him personally, sir? Conduct the official interview?"
"No." Sengoku's response was immediate and firm. "Let Sakazuki handle the vetting. The Admiral is extreme in his methods, yes, but he's not easily deceived. If this Aramaki is genuine, Sakazuki will recognize it. If he's a fraud attempting to infiltrate the Marine by claiming to be a future Admiral..."
The Fleet Admiral's smile turned predatory.
"...then Sakazuki will feed him magma and solve that problem permanently. Either way, we get useful information."
It was cold logic, but sound. Why expose himself to potential deception when a subordinate could handle verification?
The Intelligence Chief nodded. "Understood, sir. I'll continue monitoring the situation and provide updates as—"
"Actually, before you go." Sengoku gestured for the man to remain. "This Aramaki. What can you tell me about his combat capabilities? Did he demonstrate any Devil Fruit powers?"
"Not yet to my knowledge. But according to Admiral Sakazuki's preliminary assessment—delivered via Den Den Mushi twenty minutes ago—the individual possesses 'legitimate strength worthy of respect.' Those were his exact words."
High praise from someone as exacting as Akainu.
"Good. Very good." Sengoku returned to his desk, his entire demeanor transformed from the exhausted, paranoid figure of recent weeks. "Dismissed. Continue your work, and inform me immediately if any of the other mystery Admirals appear."
The Intelligence Chief bowed and departed, leaving Sengoku to his thoughts.
Alone in his office, the Fleet Admiral allowed himself a moment of genuine optimism.
One Admiral confirmed. Eleven to go. But at least we're moving in the right direction.
His mind drifted to the larger challenge: managing twelve Admiral-class fighters simultaneously. The prospect was simultaneously exciting and terrifying.
I can barely handle the three we have now. Quadrupling that number...
The current three Admirals each required completely different management approaches:
Admiral Borsalino (Kizaru) was the definition of "working to rule." He completed assigned tasks with minimal effort, never volunteering for additional responsibilities, never pushing himself beyond what orders explicitly required. You had to metaphorically whip him constantly just to maintain basic productivity. He collected his salary, performed his duties at exactly the minimum acceptable level, and went home. A consummate bureaucrat in a warrior's body.
Admiral Kuzan (Aokiji) was the opposite problem. Sharp tongue, soft heart. He worked harder than Kizaru, showed genuine initiative, and possessed admirable combat capabilities. But he was too influenced by emotions. Made decisions based on personal feelings rather than strategic necessity. That devil child Nico Robin had escaped him twice—TWICE—because Kuzan's conscience wouldn't allow him to execute a child. Any other Marine officer would have faced court-martial for that level of insubordination. But you couldn't court-martial an Admiral without creating worse problems than you solved.
Admiral Sakazuki (Akainu) represented a third category entirely. Extreme radical with powerful subjective initiative. He didn't just complete missions—he exceeded them, often in ways that violated the spirit if not the letter of orders. He'd been forming internal factions within the Marine for years, building a personal power base that technically followed regulations but clearly pushed boundaries. The only reason Sengoku tolerated this was that Sakazuki genuinely believed in his version of justice. He wasn't building power for personal gain. He was preparing for the war he believed was inevitable.
Three completely different personalities requiring constant balancing. Preventing conflicts. Playing peacemaker when disputes arose. Never favoring one too obviously lest the others feel marginalized and less invested in organizational success.
And Artoria will have to manage TWELVE of these strong-willed fighters?
The thought was almost funny. Almost.
The girl's going to age a decade in her first year as Acting Fleet Admiral. I should probably talk to her. Share strategies for handling difficult subordinates before she inherits this nightmare.
But according to the Sky Screen, Artoria succeeded. Both Smoker and Gin—future Admirals who were notoriously independent and difficult to command—showed genuine admiration for her in their casual conversations. They didn't just obey orders. They wanted to help her succeed. Worked constantly to improve themselves so they could support her more effectively.
What kind of leadership inspires that level of loyalty from people who typically resist authority?
Sengoku didn't know. But he desperately wanted to learn, because whatever techniques Artoria would eventually develop might help him manage his current three-Admiral headache.
-Real World - Training Courtyard, Marine Headquarters-
From a high observation platform overlooking the training grounds, Sengoku and Garp watched the meeting between Sakazuki and the newcomer.
"Look at that," Garp observed with amusement. "Sakazuki actually smiling. When was the last time you saw him smile genuinely?"
"I'm not sure I've ever seen it," Sengoku admitted. "The fact that this Aramaki character can make Akainu express approval says something significant about their compatibility."
Below, Admiral Akainu was speaking with unusual animation. His typical stern expression had softened into something approaching camaraderie.
"Aramaki," Sakazuki was saying, his voice carrying clearly across the courtyard. "I didn't expect to meet someone whose sense of justice aligns so perfectly with my own. This is... rare. I genuinely regret not encountering you sooner."
Admiral Akainu rarely praised anyone directly. He maintained stern demeanor with subordinates and inner circle members alike. People he looked down upon—like Borsalino—received cold dismissal or open contempt. But genuine approval? That was reserved for exceptional circumstances.
And apparently, Aramaki qualified as exceptional.
The newcomer—a lean man with sharp features and an intense gaze—responded with evident emotion. "Senior Sakazuki, the feeling is mutual. I've followed your career for years. Watched your methods from a distance. Your approach to justice represents everything I believe the Marine should be. When I saw the Sky Screen showing you as one of the twelve future Admirals, and then saw myself among them..."
He paused, clearly moved.
"I knew I had to come. Had to serve under your leadership. Your justice is my justice. I'll go through fire and water for a Marine system guided by your principles."
From the observation platform, Garp raised an eyebrow. "That's... quite the declaration of loyalty."
"Indeed," Sengoku agreed quietly. "Though I notice he said 'for a Marine guided by your principles' rather than 'for the current Marine system.' Subtle difference, but significant."
"You think he's another radical?"
"I think he's someone who sees Sakazuki as the future of the Marine and is attaching himself to that future rather than present leadership." Sengoku's expression was thoughtful rather than concerned. "Smart, actually. If the Sky Screen's predictions hold—if Artoria becomes Acting Fleet Admiral with Sakazuki as her primary military advisor—then aligning with Sakazuki now positions Aramaki advantageously for future advancement."
Vice Admiral Onigumo stood nearby, observing the meeting with barely concealed satisfaction. The radical faction had just gained a powerful new member. Someone Admiral-class who explicitly aligned with their philosophy and pledged loyalty to their informal leader.
This changes the internal balance of power, Onigumo thought with grim pleasure. Moderates and conservatives will have to account for increased radical strength when making political calculations.
"Senior Sakazuki," Aramaki continued below, "I should demonstrate my capabilities. Prove I'm worthy of the future Admiral position the Sky Screen revealed."
"Unnecessary," Sakazuki began. "Your spiritual presence alone—"
"Please. I insist." Aramaki stepped back, centering himself in the training yard. "I want there to be no doubt about my qualifications."
He took a deep breath, then activated his Devil Fruit ability.
The effect was immediate and dramatic.
Plants erupted from the stone courtyard—massive roots breaking through solid rock like it was soft soil. Trees sprouted at impossible speed, growing from saplings to full maturity in seconds. Vines thick as a man's torso writhed across the ground like serpents, responding to Aramaki's will with perfect precision.
Within thirty seconds, the entire training yard had transformed into a dense forest. Ancient trees towered overhead. Flowering plants carpeted the ground. The air itself changed—suddenly humid, rich with oxygen, smelling of growth and life.
"Mori Mori no Mi," Aramaki announced calmly, standing at the center of his created forest. "The Forest-Forest Fruit. A Logia-type that grants me complete control over plant life. I can generate forests from nothing, manipulate existing vegetation, and transform my own body into any plant form."
He demonstrated by partially transforming—his right arm becoming a massive branch covered in thorns, his left leg roots that burrowed deep into the ground for stability.
"I also possess advanced proficiency in both Busoshoku Haki and Kenbunshoku Haki." As he spoke, his plant-formed limbs turned black with Armament Haki, the thorns gleaming with hardened spiritual energy. "I can fight at Admiral level immediately. No additional training required."
The Marines observing from various positions around the courtyard stood in stunned silence.
From the observation platform, Sengoku nodded slowly. "Logia-type. Advanced Haki. Tactical creativity in how he applies his abilities. He's legitimate. Absolutely legitimate."
"Another Logia-type Admiral," Garp mused. "Between him, Sakazuki, Kuzan, and Borsalino, you'll have four Logia users in top positions. That's... unprecedented concentration of that fruit category."
"If the pattern holds—if the other mystery Admirals are similarly powerful—the Marine's combat capabilities will increase exponentially." Sengoku's voice carried cautious optimism. "We might actually be able to handle the crises the Sky Screen has shown."
Below, Sakazuki had approached Aramaki and clasped his shoulder in a rare gesture of acceptance. "Welcome to the Marine, Aramaki. I look forward to fighting alongside you."
"The honor is mine, Senior."
Vice Admiral Onigumo stepped forward to formally introduce himself and begin the integration process. Other radical-aligned officers emerged from the background, eager to meet their new ally.
The forest Aramaki had created remained, transforming the training courtyard into an incongruous jungle in the middle of Marine Headquarters. Nobody seemed to care about the property damage. The demonstration had been too impressive to worry about logistics.
-Real World - Intelligence Department, Marine Headquarters-
The Intelligence Chief sat in his office, watching reports come in about Aramaki's successful demonstration. Each confirmation felt like another nail in the coffin of his professional credibility.
I questioned the Sky Screen's accuracy. Suggested these mystery Admirals might not exist. And now one shows up voluntarily, proves his strength, and validates everything the broadcasts claimed.
The timing was almost malicious in its perfection. Just when doubts about the Sky Screen's reliability were beginning to spread through the organization, concrete evidence appeared to silence skeptics.
Was this planned? Did whoever controls the Sky Screen know that showing these future Admirals would cause some of them to appear? Self-fulfilling prophecy as recruitment tool?
The conspiracy theory formed easily, but he couldn't voice it. Not anymore. Not after being proven wrong so spectacularly.
If he raised doubts now—suggested Aramaki's appearance was too convenient, questioned whether this validated anything beyond one individual's existence—people would assume he had ulterior motives. Was he a spy trying to sow discord? An incompetent officer deflecting from his department's failures? A conservative resisting inevitable change?
I've been boxed in, he realized with frustration. The only safe position now is acceptance. Belief. Treating the Sky Screen as accurate prophecy rather than questionable prediction.
Because fighting against successfully fulfilled prophecy made you look foolish at best, malicious at worst.
The Intelligence Chief pulled out a blank sheet of paper and began drafting a new report. This one would emphasize Aramaki's voluntary appearance as evidence of the Sky Screen's accuracy. Would recommend increased efforts to identify other mystery Admirals before rival organizations recruited them. Would strategize about how to leverage foreknowledge for Marine advantage.
If you can't beat them, join them. And if prophecy keeps fulfilling itself, then questioning prophecy becomes the irrational position.
He wrote steadily, constructing arguments he didn't fully believe, supporting conclusions that made his previous objections look like temporary confusion rather than legitimate skepticism.
Everyone's a brain-filling monster, he thought, remembering that phrase from somewhere. And I'm filling my brain with whatever narrative keeps my career intact.
It was pragmatic. Necessary. The smart play in an impossible situation.
But it still felt like intellectual surrender.
Outside, Aramaki's forest continued growing, fed by his ambient power even though he'd stopped actively channeling the fruit. Marines walked through the unexpected jungle with wonder and unease, touching ancient trees that hadn't existed an hour ago.
The Sky Screen's prophecy had been validated. The first of twelve mystery Admirals had arrived. And the world's faith in predicted futures grew stronger with each fulfilled detail—regardless of whether those details had been predicted or simply suggested into existence through the power of belief.
Sometimes, an old philosopher had once observed, the map creates the territory rather than describing it.
Nobody at Marine Headquarters was thinking in those terms. But they were living that truth nonetheless.