Spring Island.
Unlike its desolate, untouched state before, the island was now alive with activity. Several buildings made entirely of wax stood tall—thanks to Galdino's Devil Fruit powers. The temporary structures served as homes, storage, and even training grounds for the pirates who had taken refuge here after the war.
At one corner of the island, in the open air surrounded by blooming flowers, Whitebeard sat on a large stone. He was currently receiving healing treatment from Kaya, Chloris, and Moris—the three healers of the Orcas.
Each of them glowed with soft, gentle light—blue from Kaya, green from Chloris and Moris—as their healing energies poured into the legendary pirate.
"You're healed," Kaya finally said, letting out a light sigh as her blue aura slowly faded away. Chloris and Moris also stopped, their lights vanishing.
Whitebeard took a deep breath. His body, once ravaged by age, wounds, and disease, now felt far lighter. He moved his arms and flexed his massive muscles. While he wasn't back to the strength of his prime, it was undeniable that he was in far better condition than he had been just ten days ago.
He smiled.
"Alright," he said, standing up with surprising steadiness. "We've stayed on this island for ten days already. It's time for us to return to the New World."
All around the island, his crew—some training, some repairing gear, others resting—perked up and turned toward their captain. They nodded in silent agreement.
"Have the ships been fully repaired?" Whitebeard asked.
Marco nodded. "Yes. Our shipwrights worked together with the Orcas. The Moby Dick and the sister ships are ready to sail."
"Good," Whitebeard said. "Then we sail today."
Without delay, the Whitebeard Pirates began packing their belongings—whatever small items they had acquired on Spring Island—and moved toward the shore. There, docked gracefully in the calm waters, were the Moby Dick and its sister ships. Their towering masts and polished hulls looked pristine, a far cry from their battered state after the war.
During the Marineford battle, many thought Zino had abandoned the pirates when he disappeared from the bay. In truth, he had left to collect all the pirate ships scattered outside the battlefield. Upon returning, he had even stored the Moby Dick and the sister ships into his mysterious inventory, preserving them from harm. That was how they were transported safely to Spring Island and later repaired.
As the Whitebeard Pirates boarded their ships, the Orcas stood along the shoreline, watching. The air was filled with a mixture of pride, gratitude, and respect.
Just before the anchors were raised, Whitebeard stepped up to the edge of the Moby Dick's deck and turned to face the Orcas below.
"I have something to announce," he said in a commanding voice.
All heads turned to him immediately, curious.
"From this day forward," Whitebeard continued, "I officially declare Monkey D. Zino as the 4th Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, taking the place of the late Thatch."
There was a moment of stunned silence.
"WHAT?!"
The shout came not just from the Orcas, but even from members of Whitebeard's own crew. Everyone's jaw dropped in shock. Of all the things they expected, this wasn't one of them.
No one was more surprised than Zino himself.
"Wait, hold on!" Zino shouted from the ground, brows furrowed. "I'm not your son! Why am I suddenly your 4th Division Commander?!"
Whitebeard, however, acted like he hadn't heard a word.
"Everyone," he said with a booming voice. "Let's congratulate our new 4th Division Commander!"
His crew exchanged looks—and then smirks.
"Congratulations, 4th Division Commander!" they all shouted, clapping, cheering, and laughing.
Zino waved his hands in protest. "No, no, no! I didn't agree to this!"
But his protests were drowned out by the sounds of cheering and laughter. Whitebeard grinned and turned back to the helm.
"Alright. Let's set sail!"
The Moby Dick and its sister ships began moving. As they sailed away from Spring Island, the Whitebeard Pirates waved back at the Orcas.
"Goodbye! See you again in the New World!"
"Take care, 4th Division Commander!"
"Come visit our territory once you make it there!"
Zino could only sigh, rubbing his temples. "I am not your commander…"
He watched the departing ships sailed further into the distance, still stunned by Whitebeard's bold declaration.
In the distance, the Moby Dick and its sister ships sailed steadily forward, heading toward the open sea. However, as they approached the island's outer perimeter, they encountered the natural wave barrier that surrounded Spring Island. These waves were part of a strange current system—tides that endlessly swirled inward, pulling everything toward the island's center. Normally, no ship could easily leave the island's waters without being pushed back.
Whitebeard stood at the front of the Moby Dick, arms crossed, observing the pulsing waves. His brow furrowed in irritation.
"Don't try to block my way," he muttered.
He stepped forward and punched the air with his massive fist, activating his Tremor-Tremor powers. A tremendous shockwave blasted forward, violently splitting the tide apart and opening a temporary pathway through the swirling waters.
Without hesitation, the ships pushed through the opening. Within minutes, the Moby Dick and the others vanished over the horizon, swallowed by the misty edge of the sea.
"They're gone..." Zino whispered, lowering his gaze.
Zoro walked up beside him, watching the strange current system returning to it's usual state. "So, what now? Should we set sail too?"
Zino remained silent for a moment. His eyes narrowed as if he was deep in thought. Then he turned toward Friday, who hovered nearby in his orb form.
"Friday," he said, "can you open a portal back to Marineford?"
"Yes, I can," Friday responded with a nod. "But… why would you want to go back?"
Zino looked over his shoulder at the others. "Let's go back to Marineford."
"Wait—what?!" Nami asked in shock. "Isn't going back there kind of… dangerous?"
"It should be fine," Zino replied calmly. "The Marines are most likely too busy repairing Marineford to worry about us right now. After what just happened, the last thing they'll expect is for us to return within days."
There was hesitation in the air, but Zino didn't wait for agreement. He turned and began walking.
"Everyone, get ready. We'll set sail in a few hours."
As he left to prepare for the next move, the crew remained behind, still processing his unexpected decision.
"Where's he going now?" Sanji asked, watching Zino walk off.
"Probably checking on that sand guy," Alvida replied.
"The one who lost to Whitebeard?" Sanji scratched his chin. "Crocodile... Is he really going to be part of our crew?"
"Zino already said he'd join us," Nojiko reminded them.
Sanji exhaled a slow breath and looked into the distance where Zino had gone. "Maybe it's time for us to push ourselves even more… If Captain keeps bringing in powerful people, we need to close the gap or we'll get left behind."
"Aren't we already doing that?" Gin asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I mean more than just effort," Sanji clarified. "We're strong, yeah, but not strong enough to fight enemies who've fully mastered Haki. Sure, some of us awakened it, but… the New World is a different beast. If we're not ready, we'll get crushed."
The crew exchanged uncertain glances.
They couldn't deny it. The New World was infamous for being unforgiving. Strength was a requirement, not a luxury. The thought of not being prepared… it made them uneasy.
Zoro finally broke the silence, a smirk playing on his lips. "Why worry so much? We're getting stronger. You've awakened your Haki, I've awakened mine. Others will follow. If we keep moving forward, we'll reach the level we need."
Sanji didn't reply. His eyes were narrowed, his face thoughtful. There was something else bothering him. A feeling he couldn't quite put into words.
...
Meanwhile, on another side of Spring Island, a fierce battle was underway. The sounds of impact echoed through the trees as two powerful Logia users clashed in a field of dust and broken ground. The combatants: Crocodile, the former Warlord of the Sea, and Kruz, the Rift-Rift man.
"Desert Spada!" Crocodile roared.
A massive blade of sand burst from the ground and slashed forward, cutting through the air like a scythe. The attack aimed directly at Kruz, but instead of dodging, Kruz simply let it hit him.
Or so it seemed.
The sand blade passed harmlessly through his shifting body, as if slicing through smoke. Kruz, in response, calmly opened a rift in the air beside him and punched into it. In the blink of an eye, a space-tearing fist emerged from another rift right behind Crocodile, striking his head.
But Crocodile's body scattered into sand and reformed immediately.
"This isn't going to get us anywhere," Crocodile said with a scowl. "Fighting you is like fighting a mirror of myself."
"We're both Logia users," Kruz replied evenly. "Attacks won't matter if we don't use Haki. And I haven't awakened it yet. If you're looking to develop Haki, you need someone who actually understands it."
Crocodile clicked his tongue in frustration. Deep down, he knew Kruz was right. The power to harm other Logia users—true power—came from their natural weaknesses, or using Haki. And if he ever wanted to face Whitebeard again… he had to learn it.
But knowing that didn't make it easier.
Just then, footsteps crunched across the grass. Zino appeared from the tree line, arms folded as he looked at the two.
"Looks like you're struggling," Zino said casually. "If you want, I can help you achieve it."
Crocodile glanced at Zino but didn't say anything. He neither accepted nor rejected the offer—his pride wouldn't allow it so easily.
Zino reached into his coat and pulled out a small, leather-bound book. Without another word, he tossed it toward Crocodile.
Crocodile caught it with one hand and looked down at the cover. It was worn but solid. He flipped it open and began scanning the pages, his brow furrowing as he read.
"That's a Haki training manual," Zino explained. "It won't awaken Haki for you, but it lays out the theory and the path. Awakening Haki is still up to the individual—but I believe someone like you can do it."
Crocodile continued reading, silent but focused.
Zino turned and called out, "Anyway, it's time. Pack your things—we're sailing soon."
...
Two hours later, all of the Orcas gathered on the island shore. The ocean breeze blew softly as waves lapped against the sand. Behind them, Spring Island had changed so much from when they first arrived. But now, it was time to leave it behind.
"Alright, Friday. Open the portal," Zino instructed.
Friday floated forward and, as usual, transformed into a perfect copy of Kruz. With a calm swipe of his hand, he sliced open the air, revealing a shimmering space tear. The portal opened wide, connecting Spring Island to the specific point—right at the center of Marineford's bay, where Friday and Kruz opened the portal before.
Zino stepped through first. As he emerged on the other side, his hand stretched forward, and a layer of ice spread rapidly across the surface of the water, creating a path. The others followed one by one, stepping carefully onto the frozen ocean.
Finally, Usopp was the last to pass through. As soon as he stepped onto the ice, the space tear behind them slowly closed with a soft ripple, disappearing completely.
The Orcas now stood once again in Marineford—but things had changed.
All around them, the signs of destruction were clear. Marineford was in the middle of a massive reconstruction effort. Cranes and scaffolding filled the skyline, and workers moved busily between shattered buildings, hauling materials and reinforcing walls.
However, the moment the Orcas appeared, the workers froze in place.
Tools were dropped. Whispers spread.
All eyes turned toward the uninvited guests who had just stepped through thin air and landed right in the middle of the repair zone.
"Who are they?" one of the workers asked, blinking in confusion. "Did they just come through a portal?"
"What sort of ability is that?"
"Look, they're standing on ice. Didn't that frozen sea melt already? How is it still there?"
"Wait… these people look familiar…"
"Hold on—isn't that the Orca Pirates?" another murmured. "The famous Supernova crew?"
A wave of unease swept through the workers.
"Are they here to attack Marineford?" one asked nervously, already backing away. "This could be bad…"
"No, wait," someone else chimed in. "Didn't the higher-ups offer Monkey D. Zino a Warlord seat recently? Maybe… maybe he's here to accept the offer?"
The workers all went quiet, unsure of what to do.
At that moment, Zino stepped calmly extended the ice further out from the center of the bay, creating a long, steady path toward the open sea. The Orca crew followed him in an orderly line, walking casually across the frozen water as if it were solid ground.
Zino gave a small wave to the stunned workers as they passed.
"Good day, everyone," he said with a relaxed smile. "Keep up the good work."
The workers stood in silence, too surprised to respond.
The Orcas walked without hurry, not looking back. Slowly but steadily, they left Marineford behind, disappearing along the icy trail stretching into the horizon. Their calm departure only deepened the confusion of those who had watched it happen—leaving behind more questions than answers.