-Real World - Enies Lobby, Judicial Island-
Ten days was neither particularly long nor unbearably short. A manageable span for those with patience. An eternity for those consumed by anticipation.
Today marked the ninth night. Tomorrow the Sky Screen would finally broadcast the Mary Geoise Incident. The event everyone had been waiting for. The revelation that would reshape the world.
Across the globe, millions of people found themselves unable to sleep. Too excited. Too anxious. Too desperate to see what futures awaited them.
Spandam was one such person, though his insomnia stemmed from different emotions than most. Not anticipation of world-shaking revelations, but petty jealousy and vindictive satisfaction.
I won, he thought, reviewing the official orders he'd just had approved. Lucci's being sent away. Far away. To somewhere he'll probably die. And nobody can blame me because it's perfectly legitimate reassignment.
The Water Seven operation had been a catastrophic failure. Years of careful infiltration. Millions of Beli in operational expenses. Dozens of agents' time invested in the mission. All for nothing.
The Pluton blueprints—the ancient weapon designs that would have given the World Government unprecedented military advantage—had vanished along with their custodian, Franky. The cyborg had somehow evaded CP9's surveillance and disappeared so completely that even extensive searches produced no leads.
Wasted, Spandam thought with satisfaction. Completely wasted. All that effort, all those resources, gone.
As the operation's planner and commander, Spandam should have faced consequences. Demotion at minimum. Possible dismissal from CP0 leadership. Perhaps even imprisonment depending on how angry his superiors were about the failure.
But Spandam had advantages other failed officers lacked: connections. His father—Spandine, former CP9 chief—retained significant influence within the World Government's intelligence apparatus. Enough influence to protect his son from consequences that would have destroyed lesser agents.
Nepotism is wonderful, Spandam mused. As long as you have someone above you, failure becomes someone else's problem.
And he'd found the perfect scapegoat: Rob Lucci.
Lucci had led the field team. Made operational decisions. Chosen surveillance priorities. When the blueprints vanished, it was easy to frame the genius agent as the one who'd failed rather than the incompetent commander who'd botched the entire strategic approach.
CP9 agents are tools, Spandam rationalized. Useful tools, certainly. But replaceable. The World Government produces new geniuses every year. One failed prodigy doesn't matter.
The punishment had been simple and elegant: surveillance assignment in the Devil's Triangle. Monitor Kaido of the Beasts and King the Wildfire. Report their movements and activities.
It's a death sentence disguised as legitimate work, Spandam thought with malicious pleasure. Nine out of ten surveillance ships that enter the Devil's Triangle never return. Kaido sinks them, kills everyone aboard, and the World Government writes it off as operational casualties.
Lucci would die in that fog-shrouded nightmare. Killed by a Yonko or his subordinates. And Spandam would be rid of his rival without personally bloodying his hands.
Perfect.
But the jealousy had deeper roots than just professional scapegoating. The Sky Screen had exposed something Spandam couldn't tolerate: a potential future relationship between Lucci and Ada.
Ada. His adopted daughter. The woman he'd personally recruited and trained. The beautiful, talented agent he'd come to regard as... more than just a daughter.
Mine, some possessive part of his psyche insisted. She's mine. I found her. I raised her. She belongs to me.
The thought was disturbing even to Spandam himself. He'd never voiced it aloud. Never consciously acknowledged the inappropriate feelings that had developed over years of close proximity to his adopted daughter.
But watching the Sky Screen show future interactions between Ada and Lucci—nothing romantic, just professional partnership with undertones of mutual respect—had triggered something ugly in Spandam's mind.
He can't have her. Won't allow it. She's mine.
The jealousy was irrational. Possessive. Built on foundations of insecurity and inadequacy that Spandam tried desperately to hide from himself.
I'm not good enough for her, he admitted in moments of brutal self-awareness. Not strong enough, not handsome enough, not impressive enough. But if I can't have her, nobody can. Especially not some genius agent who makes me look worthless by comparison.
So Lucci had to go. Had to be removed before any emotional connection could develop. Better to kill the possibility before it manifested than deal with losing Ada to someone superior.
I'm protecting what's mine, Spandam justified. That's not wrong. That's just... preserving my investment.
The rationalization was paper-thin. But it was enough for him to sleep at night.
"Ada," he'd said earlier that evening, calling her to his office. "You've had a difficult time in Water Seven. I've explained your situation to my superiors. They value your Devil Fruit abilities tremendously—they won't investigate your origins or question your loyalty."
It was true, technically. Ada's Mushi Mushi no Mi, Model: Plaga Parasite granted abilities the World Government found extremely useful. Mind control. Biological manipulation. Combat applications that justified overlooking whatever mysterious background she might have.
Ada had smiled with perfect professionalism. "Thank you, Father. I appreciate your advocacy on my behalf."
Father, Spandam noted. She called me Father. That's... good. Maintains the appropriate relationship. Nothing inappropriate.
The internal contradiction didn't register.
"You must be exhausted," he continued. "Rest tonight. We'll discuss your next assignment tomorrow, after the Sky Screen broadcast. I'm sure there will be considerable fallout requiring intelligent agents to navigate."
"Of course." Ada stood gracefully. "I'll return to my quarters. Good night."
She'd left without looking back. Walking with that unconscious elegance that drove Spandam to distraction. The door closed behind her, and he'd been left alone with his thoughts.
Lucci will be gone soon, he reminded himself. Sent to his death in the Devil's Triangle. Ada will remain here, under my supervision, where she belongs.
The satisfaction was hollow but sufficient.
-Real World - Enies Lobby, CP9 Barracks-
Rob Lucci sat on his bunk holding the transfer orders, his expression carefully neutral despite the fury building behind his eyes.
Devil's Triangle surveillance. Monitoring Kaido of the Beasts. Effective immediately.
The assignment was obviously punitive. Everyone knew the Devil's Triangle was a death trap. Ships vanished there with disturbing regularity. Agents sent to monitor Kaido's activities rarely returned, and when they did, they brought no useful intelligence—just confirmation that approaching the Yonko was suicidal.
"This is asking us to die!" Kaku protested, reading over Lucci's shoulder. "Monitoring a Yonko? With what resources? What support? How are we supposed to accomplish something that experienced Vice Admirals can't manage?"
The man's indignation was genuine. CP9 agents were proud of their capabilities, but they weren't delusional. Surveillance required either overwhelming force (which they didn't have) or complete stealth (which was impossible against Kaido's sensory abilities).
This is execution disguised as assignment, Lucci understood clearly. Spandam wants me dead. The Water Seven failure gave him justification to remove me "legitimately."
The realization should have triggered anger. Instead, Lucci felt... tired. Disillusioned. The fierce loyalty he'd once felt toward the World Government had been eroding for months, and this transparent murder attempt crystallized something that had been building subconsciously.
I've killed for them. Countless times. Done their dirty work without question. Sacrificed my humanity in service to their vision of "justice."
And this is how they repay that service. Frame me for failure. Send me to die. All because of some political game I wasn't even playing.
The Sky Screen's revelations had shown potential futures where he and Ada worked together. Nothing romantic—just professional partnership. But apparently that was enough to trigger Spandam's jealousy and insecurity.
I don't even know her, Lucci thought with bitter amusement. Haven't spoken more than a dozen words to the woman in my life. But Spandam sees a threat anyway because he's obsessed with controlling her.
Around the barracks, other CP9 members processed the news in their own ways:
Kaku paced, muttering angrily about suicide missions and incompetent leadership.
Kalifa adjusted her glasses, expression cool but eyes showing concern.
Jabra tried to joke but his humor fell flat.
Fukurou looked genuinely worried behind his usual goofy demeanor.
Kumadori dramatically proclaimed he'd follow Lucci to hell if necessary.
Blueno remained characteristically quiet, but his posture suggested readiness to fight if orders came to that.
My team, Lucci observed. People who've trained with me since childhood. Who trust me to lead them. Who deserve better than dying in fog-shrouded waters because our commander is a jealous coward.
A decision crystallized. Not fully formed yet, but taking shape.
Maybe it's time to leave.
The thought was treasonous. CP9 agents didn't resign—they served until death or disability ended their careers. Leaving meant becoming hunted. The World Government didn't tolerate desertion, especially from agents who knew as many secrets as Lucci did.
Who's-Who tried it, Lucci remembered. Lost the Gomu Gomu no Mi, refused to accept punishment, fled rather than face consequences. They hunted him for years. Last I heard, he'd joined Kaido's crew—needed protection from a Yonko organization to avoid World Government retaliation.
But the alternative was accepting this death sentence. Dying pointlessly in the Devil's Triangle. Taking his team with him because they'd refuse to abandon their leader.
If I'm going to die anyway, better to die on my own terms.
The decision wasn't final. Not yet. But it was forming. Solidifying. Tomorrow's Sky Screen broadcast might provide clarity—show futures that suggested paths forward, or confirm that staying meant death.
I'll wait, Lucci decided. Watch the Mary Geoise broadcast. See what happens. Then decide whether to accept this assignment or find another way.
Around him, his team gradually settled down. Accepting the inevitable. Preparing for sleep despite knowing tomorrow would bring either revelations or disaster.
Lucci remained awake, staring at the ceiling, thoughts churning through possibilities he'd never seriously considered before.
-Real World - Enies Lobby, Female Dormitory-
Ada returned to her private quarters—a luxury Spandam had arranged, ensuring she didn't have to share space with other female agents. The room was modest but comfortable. Private. Secure.
Perfect for what I need to do,
she thought, closing and locking the door.
She retrieved a small device from its hiding place—a communication tool that shouldn't exist, built with technology the World Government didn't possess. Placing it carefully in her ear, she activated the encrypted channel.
A voice responded almost immediately. Distorted. Unidentifiable. Kaito, speaking directly.
"Status report."
"CP9 is destabilized," Ada said quietly. "Lucci received his death sentence. Spandam's jealousy made him reckless—sent the team to monitor Kaido in the Devil's Triangle. It's too obvious. They know it's execution."
"Good. Push harder. I want Lucci considering defection seriously before the Mary Geoise broadcast. We need him receptive to alternative options."
"Understood. What about Spandam?"
"Expendable. Use him as needed, discard when convenient. His usefulness expires soon."
Ada felt no guilt. Spandam was a tool, nothing more. A means to an end. If the person orchestrating these events wanted him removed eventually, she'd handle it without hesitation.
"The broadcast starts in hours," Kaito continued. "Positioning will be critical. Are you ready?"
"Always."
"Remember: your role is observation and manipulation. The big pieces are moving, but small adjustments determine outcomes. Guide Lucci toward the decision we need. Ensure Spandam's authority erodes completely. Make CP9 desperate enough to consider options they'd normally reject."
"Easily managed."
"Excellent. Report after the broadcast. I'll want detailed observations of reactions."
The connection cut. Ada removed the device and returned it to hiding. Then she lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling much like Lucci was doing in the barracks.
-Real World - Various Locations-
Across the world, millions shared variations of the same sleepless night:
Mary Geoise, Pangaea Castle: The Five Elders met for the hundredth time, still arguing about contingencies and responses. Their conference room reeked of stress and coffee. Nobody had slept properly in days.
Marine Headquarters, Marineford: Nearly every officer remained on duty. Sengoku's office light burned bright. Tsuru coordinated intelligence preparation. Garp pretended to sleep but fooled nobody. Akainu paced the training grounds, radiating barely-contained energy.
Impel Down: Magellan conducted another round of prisoner interrogations, desperate to extract any useful intelligence before the broadcast. In Level Six, Shiryu of the Rain sat calmly in his cell, waiting with predatory patience.
Red Hair Pirates Base: Shanks and his crew departed their stronghold, destination unknown. Moving toward something. Preparing for something. Their ship cut through dark waters under starlight.
Onigashima, Wano: The Beasts Pirates threw a pre-broadcast party. Drinking, fighting, celebrating the violence to come. Kaido sat at the center of chaos, drinking enough sake to kill normal humans, preparing his mind for whatever revelations awaited.
Whole Cake Island: Charlotte Linlin slept—the only major power who could sleep through anticipation. Around her, dozens of children remained awake, discussing possibilities, arguing about interpretations, preparing for whatever futures the Sky Screen would reveal.
Moby Dick: Edward Newgate received his nightly massage from the medical staff, his massive body requiring constant care. But his eyes remained open, alert, watching the horizon. Waiting.
Smaller Organizations: Pirates, revolutionaries, kingdoms, merchants—everyone with any investment in the world's future stayed awake. Watching clocks. Counting down. Holding their collective breath.
The seconds crawled by with agonizing slowness. Minutes felt like hours. Hours felt like days.
Just start already, millions thought simultaneously. Show us. Tell us. End this waiting.
-Real World - Exactly Midnight-
Across every Sky Screen worldwide—in public squares, taverns, ships, bedrooms, prisons, palaces—the image shifted.
The perpetual loop of previous broadcasts stopped. The static that sometimes filled gaps vanished. For three minutes, the screens showed nothing. Complete blackness. Silence.
Then, slowly, an image began forming.
Fire. Burning buildings. Smoke rising into blood-red sky.
The architecture was unmistakable. White stone construction. Ornate decoration. The distinctive style of celestial dragon palaces.
Mary Geoise. The holy land. Burning.
Text appeared across the image in bold characters:
ONE YEARS AFTER THE MARY GEOISE INCIDENT, THE WAR THAT ENDED AN ERA
The broadcast had begun.
And across the world, millions of people leaned forward, breathless, desperate to see what came next.
The waiting was over.
The revelations had arrived.
History was about to change.