-Real World-
Aramaki's sudden appearance at Marine Headquarters—dramatic, public, impossible to conceal—became the week's dominant news story within hours.
Newspaper King Morgans had obtained detailed information about the mysterious Admiral candidate with suspicious speed. Too fast for legitimate journalism. Too comprehensive for coincidental discovery. The implication was clear: the Marine had deliberately leaked this information.
Within twenty-four hours, the World Economic News ran a special edition entirely dedicated to Aramaki. The headlines screamed across front pages:
"FUTURE MARINE ADMIRAL EMERGES FROM OBSCURITY!"
"ANOTHER LOGIA JOINS MARINE RANKS!"
"EXCLUSIVE: INTERVIEW WITH WITNESSES TO ARAMAKI'S POWER DEMONSTRATION!"
The articles were detailed, comprehensive, and clearly based on privileged access to information that should have been classified. Morgans described Aramaki's Devil Fruit abilities with technical precision. Quoted multiple Marine officers—all conveniently anonymous—about the newcomer's strength. Even included artistic renderings of the forest that had erupted in the training courtyard.
If the Marine didn't authorize this, cynical readers thought, then Morgans has infiltrated their headquarters more thoroughly than any spy organization in history.
But most people weren't cynical. Most people read the articles and accepted them at face value: a powerful fighter had appeared, validated the Sky Screen's predictions, and would strengthen the Marine significantly.
Morgans profited enormously. Special editions sold out across the Grand Line and Four Blues. People who normally couldn't afford newspapers scraped together coins to purchase copies. Everyone wanted to read about the mystery Admiral who'd materialized from nowhere.
On a secondary level, the publicity campaign achieved strategic objectives for the Marine. It reinforced their dominance. Reminded pirates and revolutionaries that the world government's military force was growing stronger. Sent a message: We're recruiting the future's most powerful warriors. Try opposing us at your own risk.
Fleet Admiral Sengoku had deliberately avoided giving Aramaki an official Admiral title or epithet. Not yet. He wanted to wait for the Sky Screen's Mary Geoise broadcast—see how Acting Fleet Admiral Artoria would handle Admiral assignments in the future. Learn from her methods before implementing them himself.
If she succeeds at managing twelve Admiral-class fighters, there must be organizational techniques I can adopt, Sengoku reasoned. Better to observe and copy success than invent solutions from scratch.
-Real World - Various Locations-
As news spread, a pattern emerged that sharp-eyed analysts noticed immediately:
Admiral Sakazuki (Akainu): Magu Magu no Mi - Logia
Admiral Borsalino (Kizaru): Pika Pika no Mi – Logia
Admiral Kuzan (Aokiji): Hie Hie no Mi - Logia
Admiral Smoker (Shirouma): Moku Moku no Mi - Logia
Admiral Gin (Aohebi): Ame Ame no Mi – Logia
Admiral Aramaki: Mori Mori no Mi - Logia
Six confirmed or near-confirmed Admiral-class fighters. Six logia-type Devil Fruits.
The coincidence was too striking to ignore.
"Is the Marine selling Logia fruits wholesale?" someone joked in a bar on Sabaody Archipelago. The comment spread through retelling until it became a genuine question people asked seriously.
Are ALL twelve future Admirals Logia users?
The theory gained traction quickly. It made a certain logical sense—Logia fruits were generally considered the strongest Devil Fruit category. Intangibility provided enormous combat advantages. If you were assembling the ultimate military force, prioritizing natural-type users would be rational.
Of course, the theory had flaws. Logia fruits were extraordinarily rare. Finding twelve users would be nearly impossible. And some of the most powerful fighters in history—like Gol D. Roger or Garp—had never consumed Devil Fruits at all.
But logical flaws didn't stop speculation. The pattern was too clean, too aesthetically satisfying. People wanted to believe all twelve Admirals would be Logia users because it created a beautiful symmetry.
Upper-class individuals—Yonko, Revolutionary Army leadership, World Government officials—entertained similar thoughts with more sophistication:
If the Marine consolidates twelve Logia-class fighters, the power balance shifts dramatically. Pirates and government both face an organization with unprecedented combat density. This changes everything.
For perhaps the first time in history, pirates and World Government officials reached the same conclusion simultaneously: the new Marine's projected strength expansion was unacceptable to both camps.
We need to recruit our own Admiral-class fighters before the Marine claims them all.
The race was on.
-Real World - Mary Geoise, Pangaea Castle - Room of Authority-
The Five Elders sat in their customary positions, but the atmosphere carried unusual tension. Aramaki's appearance had validated the Sky Screen in ways that deeply unsettled them.
"We can't hide anymore," Saint Ethanbaron V. Nusjuro said quietly, his hand resting on the sword at his side. "The Sky Screen exposed our combat abilities. The preview image showed beast silhouettes behind us. The secret is out."
For centuries, the Five Elders had maintained the fiction that they were purely political administrators. Elderly bureaucrats who directed the World Government through wisdom and experience rather than personal power. This illusion made them seem less threatening, more acceptable to the kingdoms that theoretically consented to their authority.
But the Sky Screen had shattered that comfortable deception. The preview image for the Mary Geoise Incident had shown dark beast forms looming behind the Five Elders—monstrous silhouettes that suggested Mythical Zoan transformations of considerable power.
The cat is out of the bag, as the saying went. No point pretending to be harmless old men when the world has seen glimpses of what we really are.
"Does it matter?" Saint Jaygarcia Saturn challenged. "Our strength was always secondary to Lord Imu's protection. As long as our true master remains hidden, we can afford to have our own capabilities known."
The five of them served as a buffer. A layer of protection between the world and the Empty Throne's secret occupant. They could reveal their powers, fight openly, even die in battle—as long as those sacrifices kept Imu's existence concealed.
"Don't be so pessimistic about our prospects," Saturn continued, his voice carrying unusual confidence. "Consider our actual forces: the five of us with our Mythical Zoan abilities, twelve Marine Admirals, the Holy Knights, and the Seraphim units I'm developing. That's overwhelming combat power."
He leaned forward, gesturing emphatically.
"Even against four Yonko crews fighting together, we can win. The Pirate Alliance has numbers and coordination, yes. But we have technological superiority, strategic positioning, and defenders' advantage. Mary Geoise itself is a fortress. Every street, every building, every chokepoint has been designed for defense over eight centuries."
Saint Topman Warcury's expression remained grim despite Saturn's optimism. "And yet the Sky Screen indicates we lose influence after this battle. The Celestial Dragons withdraw from history's stage. That's not the description of a victory."
"It's not necessarily a description of defeat either," Saturn countered. "Pyrrhic victory is still victory. We might win the battle but be forced to reorganize afterward. Change our public role while maintaining actual control."
"You're assuming the Sky Screen is accurate," Warcury challenged. "What if it's showing one possible future among many? What if our preparations change the outcome?"
"What if hoping it's inaccurate is just denial?" Saturn shot back. "Aramaki appeared exactly as predicted. The pattern of Logia Admiral recruitment is unfolding exactly as shown. Every detail we can verify has been correct. Why would the Mary Geoise outcome be different?"
The argument had been cycling for days without resolution. Optimists like Saturn believed they could win despite the Sky Screen's ominous implications. Pessimists like Warcury thought defeat was predetermined.
Saint Shepherd Ju Peter finally interrupted the familiar debate. "Regardless of whether we win or lose the battle, what concerns me more is the aftermath. How many die? How much infrastructure is destroyed? The preview shows Mary Geoise burning—blood and fire consuming the holy land. Even if we survive, the reconstruction costs..."
He shook his head.
"We'll need decades to repair the damage. And during that vulnerable period, other powers might decide to finish what the Pirate Alliance started."
"Then we must ensure the Pirate Alliance dies to the last man," Saint Marcus Mars said coldly. "No survivors to spread propaganda about defeating us. No witnesses to describe our vulnerabilities. Complete annihilation."
"Easier said than accomplished," Warcury muttered. "Buggy the Clown didn't build his organization by being easily killed."
The name alone darkened the mood further. Buggy the Clown had become a recurring nightmare for the Celestial Dragons. Every Sky Screen broadcast seemed to feature him planning something disastrous. Recruiting powerful subordinates. Positioning pieces for long-term conspiracies. Building toward the confrontation that would challenge eight centuries of unquestioned rule.
"What do you think he saw on Laugh Tale?" Ju Peter asked quietly. "What truth did Roger's treasure reveal that transformed him from a clownish pirate into this?"
Nobody answered. Because they all knew the question was really: What if the truth Roger discovered was about us? About the Void Century? About the lies underlying the World Government's foundation?
If Buggy possessed that knowledge—if he planned to reveal it during the attack on Mary Geoise—then the battle became about more than military victory. It became about information control. About preventing eight hundred years of carefully managed secrets from becoming public.
The weapon of criticism cannot replace the criticism of weapons, Warcury thought, recalling an old philosophical text. But weapons without legitimacy eventually fail. If Buggy exposes us as frauds, our weapons become irrelevant.
"We need to find him before Mary Geoise," Mars said, voicing what everyone was thinking. "Kill him before the attack can be organized. Cut the head off this conspiracy."
"Obviously," Saturn agreed. "We've already dispersed CP0, CP9, and every intelligence asset globally. The Holy Knights are on standby to deploy anywhere within hours. If we get credible intelligence about Buggy's location..."
He didn't finish the sentence. They all understood.
Five Elder Stars plus Holy Knights plus whoever else could reach the location fast enough. Overwhelming force deployed with one objective: kill Buggy the Clown before his plan matures.
"We probably can't kill him in direct combat," Nusjuro admitted. "Individually, he's stronger than any of us. But the five of us together can delay him. Prevent him from escaping. Hold him in place long enough for reinforcements to arrive and finish the job."
It was a suicide mission in all but name. But desperate times called for desperate measures. If assassinating Buggy required the Five Elders to personally enter combat and risk death, so be it. Better to die fighting than passively wait for invasion.
"Agreed," the other four said in near-unison.
The decision was made. The standing order was issued. The moment Buggy's location was confirmed, the Five Elders themselves would deploy.
One way or another, this would end before Mary Geoise burned.
-Real World - Various Locations-
The aftermath of Aramaki's appearance rippled across the world in unexpected ways.
Yonko crews began actively recruiting. Not just collecting random pirates, but specifically seeking Admiral-class fighters who might defect to their organizations. If one future Admiral had voluntarily joined the Marine, surely others might join pirate crews for the right incentives.
The Revolutionary Army intensified their own recruitment. Dragon personally reached out to individuals who might sympathize with their cause. Officers were authorized to make generous offers to powerful fighters who seemed politically flexible.
Even smaller organizations—kingdoms, mercenary groups, information brokers—began positioning themselves. Trying to secure alliances with rising powers before those powers became too important to negotiate with as equals.
Everyone recognized the pattern: the world was reorganizing itself around the coming conflicts the Sky Screen had revealed. Old alignments were questioned. New opportunities emerged. The status quo that had persisted for decades was fragmenting.
And paradoxically, this frantic repositioning created strange calm.
Pirates who normally raided coastal towns stayed in port. Marine branches that would have pursued criminals remained on alert but avoided initiating conflict. Kingdoms that had been on the verge of war pulled back from the brink.
Why fight now when everything might change in a week?
Better to wait. Watch the Sky Screen's broadcast. See how the Mary Geoise Incident unfolded. Make decisions based on that information rather than act blindly during this transitional period.
The Grand Line—normally chaotic with constant conflict—fell into an eerie calm. Ships sailed without engaging enemies they encountered. Islands prepared defenses but didn't deploy them. Everyone waited.
Even small-time pirate crews who normally caused trouble noticed the atmosphere and went to ground. The smart ones recognized danger in the air. The stupid ones followed the smart ones' lead and hid anyway.
Like animals before an earthquake, observers thought. They sense something coming even if they don't understand what.
Nobody could predict exactly how the Mary Geoise Incident would conclude. The preview had shown both sides arrayed for battle but not the outcome. Whether the Pirate Alliance would win, whether the World Government would hold, whether some third option might emerge—all remained uncertain.
But everyone agreed this would be the most significant battle in recorded history. The kind of conflict that divided eras. Before Mary Geoise. After Mary Geoise. The two periods would be as distinct as before and after the Void Century.
So the world held its breath. Pirates and Marines. Revolutionaries and kingdoms. The powerful and the powerless. All waiting for the Sky Screen to reveal the future that would define them all.
The calm before the storm.
The silence before thunder.
The pause before history broke into before and after.
Eight days remaining.
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