"Chapapa~! You all look half-drowned and wholly useless," Fukurou's muffled voice hummed from behind the yellow zipper that split his face like an eldritch horror. The sound came out wet and buzzing, half-swallowed by the salt wind that curled around the tower.
The great iron gate of Enies Lobby groaned shut behind them, locking out the blue brilliance of the open sea. The courtyard before the Tower of Justice glimmered in reflected sunlight, its white stone slick with recent rain and the spray of the roaring waterfalls that framed the island's eternal daylight. The smell of metal, gunpowder, and seafoam clung to everything, which was a sharp contrast to the polished black suits and damp boots of the CP9 agents as they gathered in the plaza.
Fukurou zipped his mouth open with a loud shrrrkk, his grin splitting wide. "Let's see how pathetic you've all become after playing house in that Galley La! Chapapa~!"
He swung down from the rail, his round body bouncing slightly as he landed in the center of the courtyard. A small Den Den Mushi balanced on his shoulder, its eyes swiveling lazily.
"Line up," he sang, waving stubby arms. "It's time for your Doriki evaluation! I've missed this~! Chapapa!"
Lucci said nothing as he stepped forward first. His dark coat hung open, the sleeves rolled up, faint scratches trailing his arms. The pigeon on his shoulder cooed softly as if mocking Fukurou's tone.
"Still as loud as ever, Fukurou," Lucci said quietly. "If you're here to measure strength, make it quick. We have work to finish."
Fukurou snorted, then tapped the small device strapped to his wrist letting a needle flicker and whir, making the air vibrating faintly with the pulse of Rokushiki energy.
"Chapapa~! Don't act like you're above it! Let's see, let's see…" he pressed a button, which made Den Den Mushi's eyes glow brightly. "Rob Lucci… Doriki: four thousand."
"Still a monster," muttered Jabra, stretching his arms. "Tch, four thousand… you sure you didn't eat another Devil Fruit while you were gone, cat?"
Lucci's gaze cut sideways, unblinking. "Try me."
"Chapapa~! Next!" Fukurou chirped before Jabra could snarl back. "Kaku, the long-nosed agent!"
Kaku stepped forward, soaked to the bone and still wincing from the bruises across his side. "Oi, don't call me that. I'm a professional."
He placed his palm against the scanner, and it clicked. "Doriki: two thousand two hundred," Fukurou announced with theatrical delight. "Not bad, chapapa~! Still second place!"
"Two-two-zero-zero?" Jabra repeated, incredulous. "What, that string-bean got stronger than me while I was doing real fieldwork?"
Fukurou's grin widened as he moved the device toward Jabra. "Then let's see, wolf-man! Jabra, Doriki: two thousand one hundred and eighty! Chapapa~! Only twenty below the giraffe! Hah!"
Jabra's eyes bulged. "TWENTY?! You gotta be kidding me! He cheated!"
"You can always fight for the title again," Lucci murmured, tone flat.
"Chapapa~! Blueno next!" Fukurou continued. "Ah, but you look half-dead, my friend."
The big man lumbered forward, water still dripping from his coat collar, hair plastered to his forehead. He pressed his hand to the reader, and the machine gave a soft whine. "Eight hundred and twenty," Fukurou said, almost apologetic. "Guess the sea took its toll, chapapa~!"
Blueno only sighed. "Try getting dunked and almost drowned in the ocean," he shivered slightly at the memory but didn' t show it on his face. "See how your numbers look after that."
"Next! Kumadori!" Fukurou ignored the jab and called the man.
The flamboyant man strutted forward, hair gleaming under the light, his tone a sing-song chant of remorse and confidence all at once. His number blinked: eight hundred and ten.
"Ahh~! My soul is in despair at such mediocrity!" Kumadori wailed, clutching his staff dramatically.
Kalifa stepped up last, her suit immaculate despite the faint tremor in her gloved hands. The reader beeped. "Six hundred and thirty," Fukurou said, raising his brows. "Chapapa~! Not bad, considering you've been doing secretarial work instead of assassinations!"
Kalifa adjusted her glasses coolly. "It's called multitasking, not retirement."
When he finished logging the results, Fukurou zipped his mouth shut again with a final snrrk. "Chapapa~! There you have it, Spandam-sama! Your little murderers are out of practice but still dangerous."
The doors to the Tower of Justice opened with a slow, echoing groooan.
Spandam emerged, wrapped in his immaculate coat, whip dangling loosely from his hand. His face was drawn tight in irritation, the scar along his nose twitching as he took in the damp, tired agents.
"You call this Cipher Pol Nine?" he barked, voice slicing across the courtyard. "You look like drowned rats, not assassins!"
"Spandam-sama–" Kalifa began, but he cut her off with a slam of his whip on the stone floor.
"Silence! You were embedded in Galley-La for years! Years! And for what? You come back empty-handed, bruised, and one of you nearly drowned!"
Jabra's hackles rose. "We were undercover, not–"
"Underwater?" Spandam sneered. "Because that's exactly what you look like!"
Lucci's eyes opened slightly, the faintest gleam of disdain behind them. "We haven't lost yet," he said, the calm beneath the storm. "Our targets are already coming here. To our territory. To Enies Lobby."
That calmed Spandam for a moment, his whip lowering a fraction.
"They're coming here," Lucci continued, voice level but heavy with promise. "Nico Robin, the blueprints, Strawhat Luffy and the others, they're walking into the government's stronghold. We'll take them on our ground. Capture them alive. Deliver them to you."
Spandam's expression morphed into a grin. He snapped his whip once, delighted. "Finally! Some actual competence! About time you started sounding like CP9 again."
Then, with a sudden turn, he gestured to Kalifa and Kaku. Two ornate boxes were brought forward by government attendants–one patterned with swirling red flames, the other marked with blue spirals.
"Your new toys," Spandam said, eyes gleaming with greed. "Hurry and eat, before your opponents arrive. Those Strawhats won't know what hit them. I want that money, that woman, that kid captain, and those blueprints! Bring them all to me!"
Kalifa adjusted her glasses once more, studying the fruit in her gloved hands. Kaku turned his over curiously, the surface glinting like polished wood.
"Understood," Lucci said simply.
.
"ALRIGHT, EVERYONE! WE'RE HERE!" Luffy's voice tore through the salt heavy air like a cannon blast, with the sound so bright and reckless and so very alive.
The sea train was slowing down, with steam curling in ribbons around its sides as the massive silhouette of Enies Lobby came into view. The white spires glimmering under the rising sun that never set, the waterfalls crashing endlessly around the island's ring. The rhythmic groans of the metal wheels and the roar of the surf blending into something like a war drum.
Inside the linked carriages of the Sea Train, tension was shifting into something electric with the Strawhats, Franky Family and the Galley–La workers all pressed against the cabin gaps with faces alight with the same mad courage.
"Oi! Hold on tight!" Pauli shouted, rope coiling around his arm as he braced against the window frame. "Once we hit the dock, it's gonna be chaos!"
"This is for Iceberg-aniki! " Zambai yelled, headband snapping in the wind, "Franky Family, Galley-La! GET READY!"
The roar that followed shook the train's steel bones.
"ICEBERG! ICEBERG! ICEBERG!" they chanted, stamping boots and fists against the metal, the name rolling like thunder down the line.
"Iceburg keeps us afloat! Now we shall revolt!" The silly chant also made itself known in the train. The rhythm growing with the pounding heartbeat of the pirates, shipwrights, and outlaws.
"Let's make it count!" Franky grinned, pushing up his sunglasses, his hands flexing as gears whirred under his palms. "We either get the money back or blow this contract sky-high!"
"It's not your money!" Nami snapped at Franky. "And Luffy, please don't burn down the whole island. We still need to get my four hundred million!"
Luffy laughed, bouncing in place, the light in his eyes wild and full of mischief. "Then let's go get it!"
The Rocketman, half-crushed and chained to the back of the main engine, screeched and hissed as the train hit the final stretch of track. The wheels sparked orange fire. Steam hissed through every vent. Ahead lay the Government's front gate, its golden insignia glinting with arrogance.
The marines on the walls stood proudly, showing not a bit of hesitance. They'd been warned about the Franky Family, the Strawhat Pirates and the Galley-La rebels. Every soldier in blue and white had their rifles ready, their cannons loaded. And still, the rhythmic chant carried through the din, crawling under their skin until one whispered, "They sound like they're coming to war."
"All for the mayor of Water 7?" Another marine whisper questioned, having heard the chant revolving around the mayor.
"Those guys are insane to even think about taking one of the pillars of the World Government!" Another whispered with a tch, raising his gun.
Before any other could comment on the scene, the train's whistle screamed and then Luffy leapt.
The door between carriages blew open, steam bursting like a cannon plume as he shot through it, with his hat clutched to his head, grin splitting his face wide.
"ALRIGHT, YOU THIEVING JERKS! GIVE BACK OUR MONEY!" he landed in the middle of the port, the stone cracking under his feet. The marines barely had time to shout before his fist whipped forward. "GOMU GOMU NO PISTOL!"
The impact rippled through the ranks, sending men flying into the air.
Behind him, Zoro vaulted down with blades already unsheathed, Sanji followed with a curl of smoke, and Usopp burst out of a window in full Sniper King glory, yelling, "CHARGE, MEN OF JUSTICE AND MECHANICAL MIGHT!" before tripping over his own cape and falling face first on the ground.
"FRANKY FAMILY, MOVE OUT!" Franky bellowed as the train doors burst open. Men and women poured out like a river of noise and vengeance, sledgehammers and chains clattering. Galley-La workers swung from ropes, axes flashing as they hit the ground running.
The government soldiers at the port rallied fast, rifles snapping to shoulders. "FIRE!"
The air filled with smoke and lead but it didn't matter. Many of them were already there.
"Don't hold back!" Pauli shouted, ropes flying. He snagged two soldiers by the waist and yanked them off their feet. "They betrayed Iceberg! Make them pay! For Iceberg!"
The chant rose again, louder this time, their throats raw and hearts burning.
"ICEBERG! ICEBERG! ICEBERG!"
The sound was deafening.
From above, the marines on the walls scrambled to reload. "Hold the line! Reinforcements from the Main Gate are coming–"
A cannonball flew. Luffy jumped, grabbed it mid-air, and hurled it right back. It slammed into the tower, shattering a large portion of the wall into rubble.
"LUFFY!" Usopp shouted, perched on the remains of the engine. "You're gonna level the whole island!"
"GOOD!" Luffy yelled back, grinning. "THEN THEY'LL NOTICE US FASTER!"
Sanji groaned. "You idiot! Don't help them notice!"
Another wave of marines charged from the courtyard. Franky Family members met them head-on, their hammers crashing into shields, their chains whipping through the ranks. "For Iceberg-aniki!" Zambai roared, swinging his wrench like a blade.
Pauli vaulted onto a cannon turret, knocking two marines flat. "Galley-La! Secure the dock!"
The marines tried to form ranks, but the Strawhats shattered every formation they attempted. Chopper, in Heavy Point, barreled through a dozen men with one punch. Nami's staff sparked, the air crackling with electricity as thunder coiled through her Clima-Tact, leading bolts to flash across the wet stone, scattering soldiers like leaves.
"Don't underestimate pirates!" she shouted, hair whipping in the wind.
The smell of ozone and salt filled the air. Smoke curled up from shattered cannons.
But still, Enies Lobby was vast, and its defenses were relentless. Out of sight, an officer shouted, "Wake the giants! We need them NOW!"
Panic rippled through the lower ranks as two men sprinted across the courtyard toward a sealed gate that led deeper into the compound.
Moments later, the earth trembled.
Thoom.
A shadow stretched across the white marble plaza, followed by another.
Thoom. Thoom.
The gates cracked open, and two enormous figures stepped out, shaking off sleep and confusion.
"Who dares disturb our rest?" bellowed Oimo, his beard streaked with sea-salt foam.
"Enies Lobby needs us, brother," Kashii rumbled, voice low as thunder. "Our captains' honor is at stake!"
They stomped forward, each footstep sending tremors through the ground. The marines cheered, rallying behind the giants as cannons swiveled into position.
Luffy skidded to a stop, eyes going wide. "WHOA!"
Usopp peeked from behind a broken pillar, jaw dropping. "T-They're giants! Actual giants!"
"They're huge!" Chopper squeaked, ears flattened.
Luffy grinned, awe sparkling in his eyes. "It's been so long since I've seen giants! Brogy and Dory were amazing, but I didn't think I'd see another two before even reaching the New World!"
.
"Brogy and Dory..?" Oimo repeated hesitantly.
The battle had already blurred into a white noise–a storm of cannonfire, gunpowder, and the clang of steel–for Oimo and Kashi but those two names cut through it sharper than any blade. Both of them froze mid-strike, their clubs half-raised, staring down at the small, sun-kissed boy standing among the chaos.
Kashii halted beside him, eyes wide and quivering. "Oimo… did he say…?"
The scrawny teen below lifted his face, the light glancing off the straw hat that sat tilted over his brow. His grin was too wide, too bright, and yet his eyes glowing faintly crimson with the reflected flames of battle held a strange gravity that made even giants falter. That made their hearts want to listen to the tiny teen no matter what.
"Yeah!" the boy shouted over the din, voice carrying like a cannon shot. "Brogy and Dory! They're friends of mine! Shishishi!"
For a moment, Oimo and Kashi just stared, unable to process anything for a moment. The marines behind them, who had been cheering moments earlier, fell silent in confusion.
"You… know them?" Oimo asked at last, voice cracking. He had not spoken their names aloud in fifty years, not since the day the men in white coats and gold buttons had told them their captains were prisoners.
The boy nodded vigorously. "We met them in Little Garden! They were fighting like, a really, really manly fight!" He laughed, a bright, bubbling sound that felt wildly out of place in the middle of a war. "It was awesome! But they stopped fighting in the end. Said they were ready to go home! To their crew! To Elbaf."
Oimo's massive hand trembled around the haft of his club. He looked to Kashii, who stared back in disbelief.
"They… they stopped?" Kashii rumbled. "They… went home?"
Luffy nodded, completely unbothered by the weapons still looming above him. "Yup! Said it was time to go back. They miss their crew a lot too!"
The words hit harder than any cannonball.
For a heartbeat, both giants stood frozen, the ground quivering beneath their feet as every memory of the past half-century crashed down–the lies, the servitude, the long decades guarding a gate for captains they believed shackled deep beneath the government's prisons.
Oimo's knees almost buckled. He felt his throat tighten, and before he could stop himself, hot tears began rolling down his face.
"We… we were told…" he choked out, voice breaking into a roar. "We were told they'd been captured! That they'd rot in a human jail unless we guarded these gates for a hundred years!"
Kashii slammed his club into the marble, cracking it like porcelain. "We've guarded this cursed door for half a lifetime!" he thundered. "For nothing?"
Luffy blinked up at them, confusion giving way to quiet pity. "Then you got tricked," he said simply. "Guess the Government lied to you guys too, huh?"
The casual honesty of his words made the tears flow faster. Oimo tried to wipe them away with his forearm, but more followed, big as pearls, splattering onto the battlefield below. The sound of weeping giants rolled like waves through the plaza.
"Oi, oi!" Luffy called, waving both arms. "Save that for later! You can cry all you want after we're done beating these guys up!"
Despite himself, Oimo gave a strangled laugh. The kid was ridiculous–tiny, rash, his grin too big for his face–but something about him radiated warmth that burned away the despair. Even surrounded by soldiers and smoke, he seemed untouchable, as though the sunlight itself bent toward him.
"Little warrior," Oimo said softly, lowering his head so his shadow fell across Luffy. "You speak of Brogy and Dory as though you truly met them."
"I did," Luffy replied, serious now. "They were still fighting, even though they couldn't remember why. But they said a real man never runs from a duel, right? So they kept fighting until they laughed. They're strong."
Oimo felt the old pride swell in his chest. Pride he hadn't felt in fifty years. He glanced at Kashii, whose face was still streaked with tears.
"Brother," he said, voice low, "we've been fools."
Kashii nodded slowly. "We believed the humans. We forgot what our captains taught us. That honor is something you choose, not something you're told to serve."
The realization struck them both like lightning.
Around them, marines shouted in confusion, unsure why their giant allies had gone still. Cannons paused mid-reload. Even the Strawhats hesitated, watching the titans wrestle with truth and grief.
Then, Oimo drew a shuddering breath and dropped his club to the ground with a crash that sent cracks spider-webbing through the marble.
"I will not guard their gate another second," he growled.
The kid–Luffy, he remembered someone shouting–smiled up at him, teeth flashing white and arms spread wide. "Then don't. You're free."
The simplicity of it stunned him.
Free.
It was a word he hadn't dared think in half a century.
Kashii threw back his head and let out a bellow that shook the clouds. "Captain Brogy! Captain Dory! Forgive us!"
Oimo found himself laughing through his tears. "If what you say is true, little warrior, then our captains are alive! Alive and waiting on Elbaf!"
"They are!" Luffy beamed. "So stop crying already! You're giants, right? Real men don't bawl in the middle of a fight!"
That earned a rumbling laugh from both of them. Even in despair, the boy's sheer nerve was contagious.
Oimo straightened, wiping his face with the back of his hand. "You have the spirit of the Sun in you, little one."
"The what now?" Luffy tilted his head innocently.
Kashii's eyes glinted. "There is an old story on Elbaf," he said slowly and softly, not wanting others other than Luffy to hear him. "About a warrior of laughter who freed slaves and danced with the dawn. The Sun God Nika, they called him."
Luffy's grin softened; for an instant, the mischief in his eyes gave way to something warmer, older. It was a flicker of recognition that made the giants' breath catch. The sunlight caught the streak of white in his hair, turning it almost gold.
"Yeah," he said simply, voice low but carrying. "I've heard that one."
And when he smiled again, it wasn't the wild grin of a reckless boy, but something brighter, steadier, almost sacred. The warmth that rolled off him felt like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.
Oimo and Kashii could only stare. For the briefest moment, they saw it. The same radiance their ancestors' songs had promised, the laughter that once led men and giants alike toward freedom.
For the first time in fifty years, they felt the chains around their hearts crack and shatter. For the first time they felt free like no other. Sure, the tale of Sun God Nika, the Warrior of Liberation or the Harbinger of Destruction, made them jitty, especially when the little guy before them felt like the very incarnation of the God–the creator or the destroyer.
"Brother," Oimo said, hefting his club again, "let's give Him a gift worthy of Elbaf."
Kashii's grin widened, all teeth. "Aye. Let's break the door."
Neither giants turned to acknowledge the fact in their very hearts, but the smile they got from Luffy–from Nika–spoke volumes which couldn't be described.
Meanwhile, the marines realized too late what was happening. "Wait, stop them! Stop the giants!"
But nothing could stop them, not after what had happened.
With a roar that echoed like thunder across the entire island, Oimo swung his club into the massive gate he had guarded for half a century. The iron frame buckled instantly, bolts snapping like twigs. Kashii followed with a second strike, his weapon slamming into the hinges.
The Gate of Justice trembled.
One more blow, and the centuries-old doors split apart, crashing inward in a storm of splinters and dust.
Silence fell, then pandemonium.
The Strawhats and their allies stared, wide-eyed, as sunlight flooded through the gap. The marines screamed, retreating in panic.
Luffy threw his head back and laughed, that wild, ringing laugh that made even the giants grin. "SHISHISHISHI! THAT'S MORE LIKE IT!" he yelled. "NOW WE CAN REALLY GET STARTED!"
Zoro sheathed his swords with a smirk. "Guess we don't have to fight the giants after all."
"Good," Sanji muttered, lighting a cigarette amid the chaos. "It would've been a pain to aim that high."
Franky crossed his arms, sunglasses glinting. "SUPER! Giants on our side! Now that's style!"
From the Galley-La ranks, Pauli let out a sharp whistle. "Oi, giants! Remind me never to owe you money!"
That broke the tension completely. Laughter rolled through the ranks–Robin's "Fufufu~!", Franky's metallic bark, Usopp's high-pitched cackle, Nami's exasperated snort, and even Chopper's adorable "Heheheh!"
The sound spread, washing over the courtyard like a wave of relief.
For Oimo and Kashii, it felt like the first time in decades that laughter didn't sound like mockery. They looked down at the tiny warriors–the pirates, the shipwrights, the outlaws–and saw not chaos, but hope.
"Brother," Oimo murmured, voice rumbling softly as he looked at the glowing sun laughing amid the humans, "maybe those tales were true after all."
Kashii nodded. "Aye. The world may yet have its dawn."
High above, the eternal sun blazed on, glinting off shattered gates and shining faces, as the battle cry rose anew. Stronger, freer, unbroken.
.
The shattered gates yawned open, spilling sunlight and dust into a city beyond a sprawling stone avenue that stretched straight to the courthouse looming in the distance like a pale fortress. The crash of the broken doors still echoed across the port as the army of marines scrambled to regroup.
Beyond the threshold lay the Judicial District, paved in white marble and lined with towers bearing the insignia of the World Government. But it was not silent. The moment the Strawhats and their allies set foot inside, the air filled with the thunder of paws.
A pack of enormous, armored dogs came barreling down the avenue, their iron harnesses gleaming, riders perched atop them with drawn blades.
"The Watchdog Unit of the Law!" someone shouted. "They're here!"
The beasts' eyes glowed a faint yellow beneath their helms as they skidded to a halt before the invaders. Their riders barked orders, the sound cutting through the clamor of retreating marines.
"Stop in the name of Justice!" one officer cried, pointing his sword toward the boy at the front. "Strawhat Luffy! You will go no further!"
Luffy only tilted his head, sunlight flickering in his red-tinted eyes. The wind rippled through his white-streaked hair as he took a single, slow step forward.
The lead watchdog growled, then hesitated. A strange quiet fell. The air seemed to shift, the tension trembling like the pause before lightning. The dogs' ears twitched. Their nostrils flared. Something deep within them, something older than training or command, stirred awake.
Luffy grinned. "You don't really wanna fight, do ya?"
The words were barely more than a whisper, but the beasts heard them all the same. One by one, their heads lowered, not in submission, but recognition.
But what was coming, was not what the riders expected at all.
With a collective roar of barking and snarling, the watchdogs turned, bucking their armored riders from their backs. Swords clattered uselessly onto the cobblestones as marines shouted in alarm. The great beasts ran free, splitting down the avenue in two great lines, parting the road like a living tide.
The Strawhats and their allies stopped short, blinking in disbelief.
"...Did they just listen to Luffy and–" Usopp began.
"Let us through?" Sanji finished, cigarette hanging forgotten between his lips.
Even Nami stared, wind tugging at her hair. "That's… something."
The riders scrambled to regain control, shouting at their mounts. "Restrain them! They've gone mad!"
But the dogs didn't listen. They only howled toward the sun and bounded aside, leaving a clear path straight toward the courthouse.
Franky whistled low. "Now that's what I call SUPER good timing."
Pauli blinked, still gripping his rope. "I don't get it. Those beasts are trained to die before disobeying."
Chopper, trembling and wide-eyed, peered up at Luffy. "They… they're not crazy," he whispered. "They just… remembered something."
Luffy's gaze lingered on the avenue ahead. The grin returned to his face, soft, knowing, and wild all at once.
"Then let's go," he said. "Before they change their minds."
And with that, the Strawhats surged forward, boots and laughter pounding against the marble as the army of free beasts howled in their wake, marking the first cracks in the walls of Justice itself.
.
Inside the Administration Tower, the air reeked of ink, sweat, and burning nerves. The polished corridors of Enies Lobby–so spotless from the outside–hid the frantic scurrying of aides, clerks, and Cipher Pol agents rushing from one end to the other like ants under fire.
And in the middle of it all, Spandam paced.
"Useless, every last one of them!" he shrieked, striking the desk with both hands. Papers scattered like startled birds. "A fortress of justice, and I can't even get a single hostage to show for it! Err, to be brought to justice!"
He turned on his heel, cape twisting, the absurd gold tassels on his shoulders bouncing with every furious motion. His face was red, his grin trembling on the edge of madness.
"CP9, hah! More like CP-none!" he barked, slamming a fist down again. "They vanish for years, hide behind shipwright masks, and when they return, what do I get? A bunch of injured agents and excuses! Even the watch dogs disobeyed orders!"
He stalked to the window, peering out through the stained glass where the sun burned bright over the courtyards below. From this height he could see the smoke, the marines falling back, and beyond the shattered gate the faint figure of the straw-hatted boy leading the charge of the wild chaos. The sight made his teeth grind.
"That brat," he hissed. "That idiot monkey with a bounty larger than his brain. They call him reckless, but to me he's bait, a perfect bait. If those damned 3C's show their faces again, I'll have them all in one place… all of them!"
His wild maniac laughter rang sharp, echoing off the marble.
He spun back toward the room, breath coming hard, eyes gleaming with wild calculation. "Yes, yes… with Franky's blueprints and that woman Nico Robin's knowledge, the keys to Pluton will finally be mine. Mine! And once I hold the greatest weapon in the world…"
He trailed off, glancing toward the far corner of the chamber.
A figure sat there, hood drawn low, gloved hands resting on two heavy suitcases stacked neatly at their feet. They hadn't moved since entering; they hadn't spoken once. Yet Spandam could feel the weight of their gaze.
His eyes lingered greedily on the cases. Even from across the room he could smell money. The money the 3Ps had promised, the fortune that would grease the gears of his grandiose dreams. He swallowed, a feverish smile curling his lips.
'If things go to hell,' he thought, 'I'll take that money and run. Let the marines burn, let the island sink. The Buster Call will erase everything! No witnesses, no failures. Only me… and my gold.'
He straightened, mask of command snapping back into place. "Soon," he muttered aloud, pacing again. "Very soon I'll have everything. The Strawhats, the Franky Family, even those fool shipwrights! They'll all dance to my tune. And if they don't, well, justice has a price, doesn't it?"
Behind him, the hooded figure shifted slightly in their seat. The faintest glint of metal caught the light beneath the hood, an unreadable expression hidden in shadow. They said nothing.
But as Spandam's monologue spiraled into self-satisfied muttering, the silent watcher tilted their head, a judgmental stillness emanating from them, a kind of quiet disgust at the spectacle before them.
And in that hush between his words, the sound of the raging battle outside seeped faintly through the glass, a reminder that the tower of Justice was beginning to crack.
.
The courtyard trembled with the echo of the laughter of the giants and humans, Strawhats and shipwrights, standing together before the path to the courthouse. Marble dust shimmered in the air like drifting snow.
That is when a ripple of sound cut through it. It was of the steady clack of footsteps against stone.
"Oi… what's that noise?" Usopp whispered, adjusting his goggles.
High above them, atop the courthouse roof, a dark figure stepped into the sunlight. A tailored black coat flapped against the wind, his metal door-framed face catching the gleam.
"Blueno!" Franky barked, jaw tightening.
The Cipher Pol agent looked down upon them with the calm disdain of a man accustomed to superiority. When he spoke, his voice carried easily across the square, smooth but heavy with authority.
"Strawhat Pirates, Galley-La, and the Franky Family..," Blueno called, each name. "By setting foot upon Enies Lobby, you have declared war against the World Government."
A hush rippled through the mixed crowd of pirates, shipwrights, and outlaws. Everyone except the former group getting a tad bit scared.
"This island," he continued, tone measured as he stepped to the edge of the courthouse roof, "is the seat of the world's law. It represents the power of one hundred and seventy nations united under a single banner of law. To oppose it is to oppose the world itself."
His words struck like cold iron. Even the marines hesitated, watching the Strawhats and their allies for their reaction.
Blueno's gaze swept over the defiant faces below–Zoro's and Sanji's steeled calm, Nami's and Robin's calculating fury, Franky's burning glare, Chopper's and Usopp's slightly scared glares–and finally stopped on the kid captain in the straw hat.
"Hand over the fugitives," he demanded. "Franky, the deranged pervert and a hazard, who dares to know and have the blueprints," he watched Franky flinch but stand defiantly, "A hazard who should have been erased long ago."
Franky's sunglasses flashed as his grin sharpened. "Try it, door-face!"
Blueno ignored him, his voice like ice. "Nico Robin, the Devil Child who brings death wherever she walks. The survivor of Ohara who should have perished with her island. And lastly–"
He paused, eyes narrowing.
"Monkey D. Luffy. The insolent boy who calls himself a captain. A child playing pirate while standing under the shadow of the 3C's, the same outlaws who spat on the Government's name. You will be taken in for questioning… or you will die here. For the sake of people's safety."
His tone shifted from command to decree, his words slamming into the air like shackles. "You are hopelessly outnumbered," he finished. "You cannot win," he uttered. The kid maybe stronger but against the World Governmen–hell, even against Lucci–he will lose. He will end up losing his life for no reason at all. " Surrender yourselves to authority, and your allies shall be spared. Refuse, and every one of you will rot in the deepest pit of Impel Down."
Silence rolled across the square, thick enough to taste. The flag of the World Government flapped proudly behind Blueno, its sigil glinting in the sun like a dare.
Luffy's shadow lengthened where he stood, his chin tilted up and eyes gleaming beneath the brim of his strawhat. "..Usopp."
The single word out of Luffy's mouth was calm, almost quiet, yet it cut through the tension like steel.
Usopp blinked, hand twitching towards his slingshot. "Aye, Captain?"
Luffy's gaze drifted toward the flag, its emblem snapping in the breeze. "I don't like that flag."
Usopp followed his line of sight. The world seemed to narrow between the two of them–Luffy's grin, sharp and certain, and Usopp's trembling fingers curling around his weapon.
"..Got it," Usopp murmured, and within half a second loaded a fireball pellet, the rubber band drawing back until it trembled and the shot fired. It streaked upward like a comet, struck the cloth with a hiss and then the World Government's oh-so-proud flag burst into flames.
The wind caught it, tearing burning fragments across the sky without mercy as falling embers.
The sun glared at it, as if it had personally offended it.
The world seemed to stop. The marines stared in horror, the allied crews in disbelief, even Blueno froze, his expression unreadable beneath the soot and glare. While the Strawhats each stood shoulder to shoulder with a satisfied smirk.
"You've chosen your fate. Every single one of you will die here." Blueno spoke, his voice cold as in declaring a verdict.
Luffy lifted his head, his smile widening and teeth catching the light. "You are wrong," he said. "No one chooses our fate for us."
Blueno's brow knit
"And war?" Luffy's laughter bubbled out, bright, reckless and alive. "I already started that ages ago… as you implied."
Blueno's pupils shrank. He replayed the words, the tone, the grin, the effortless defiance, the strength, the knowledge. The same voice and stature! The same mocking laughter that had haunted Cipher Pol reports for years.
His lips parted as realization clawed its way up. "You're–"
But before he could say more, Luffy vanished from sight and the next instant his fists slammed into Blueno's chest with a detonation that shook the courthouse roof. The agent's body arced backwards, his eyes still wide with fear and realization and mouth parted to call a single name. Cyra.
The courtyard erupted into cheers.
"That was… SUPPPPPEEERRRR!" Franky was the first one to howl out, his eyes sparkling with stars.
Luffy landed lightly among them again, dust swirling at his feet. "Told ya," he said, rubbing his nose with a grin. "We don't need to win against the world, just against the idiots who get in our way."
Oimo's booming laugh joined him. "Ha! Spoken like a true warrior!"
Kashii nodded, gripping his club. "Then let us strike together, little one. We shall bring down their walls!"
Luffy looked up at the towering gates of the courthouse, stretching high and heavy into the light. His eyes shone with challenge.
"Alright," he said. "Let's make a new way."
He crouched low, hands on his knees, thinking. "Hmm… how'd I do that big thing again…"
The giants blinked in confusion as his hair began to ripple, dark strands shifting to white and mingling and floating, the air around him humming. A warm, electric light flickered through the space.
Oimo felt his heart seize. "That glow…" he whispered.
Kashii's breath trembled. "That's the sign.."
They had felt that the kid was him but what was happening before them further solidified their belief.
Nami's eyes widened in horror. "LUFFY!"
The glow brightened; his hat's shadow lifted as the world itself seemed to lean closer.
Zoro gritted his teeth. "Don't you dare, captain."
Sanji's voice was sharp, almost pleading. "You're not pulling that again! You just came back from the damn dead!"
Chopper clutched his hooves together, eyes wide with panic. "Please, Luffy, your body's not ready!"
For a moment, the boy's smile wavered, softened by the weight of their worry, and he came back from his impulsive senses. He exhaled. The glow faded. His hair darkened again.
"Alright, alright," he said with a laugh, scratching his head. "Guess I'll think of something else!"
He blew air into his thumb. Everyone waited, watching him with confusion.
"What the hell are you doing?" Nami demanded.
Luffy's cheeks puffed as he mumbled through his fingers, "Dunno yet, but it feels right!"
His arm swelled, first the wrist, then the forearm, then the whole limb ballooned grotesquely until it was bigger than his entire body.
"GEAR TWO!"
The giants exchanged awed looks.
Oimo grinned. "He's doing it his way."
Kashii hefted his club. "Then so shall we!"
"Alright, everyone!" Luffy shouted, his voice booming like thunder. "ONE TWO THREE!"
He swung his massive arm forward just as the two giants brought down their weapons beside him. The combined impact struck the courthouse gate like divine punishment.
That instant the world exploded.
The doors didn't merely open. They disintegrated, erupting into a hurricane of splintered wood and twisted iron. The shockwave tore through the square, scattering marines and debris alike.
When the dust cleared, only sunlight streamed through the gap, spilling onto Luffy's grinning face and the cheering allies behind him.
Oimo and Kashii dropped their clubs, roaring with laughter. "HAHAHA! A true warrior indeed!"
Franky adjusted his sunglasses, shaking his head. "Didn't need that much power, bro."
"Oops," Luffy said, deflating his arm with a wheeze. "Guess we overdid it."
"Overdid?" Nami snapped. "You blew up the door!"
.
A few minutes earlier…
The cavernous hall of the courthouse breathed with a slow, measured authority. Light from stained-glass windows fell in colored bands across marble, and the tinkling of distant gears and the faint, ceremonial clack of judicial gavels threaded the air like a promise. People moved within the shadowed aisles with a careful, almost sacred step until the three-headed figure at the dais spoke.
Judge Baskerville's three faces hovered above a wide collar, each mouth forming its own sentence in the same brittle voice. One face laughed thinly, one scowled with measured contempt, and the third mouth spoke as if reading from a ledger of doom.
"Release the Just Eleven Jurymen," the scowling head declared, voice echoing through the vaulted dome. "Order restored. Let the scales weigh in their favor."
An officer at the side, sweat beading at his temple, spoke up on a tremor of warning. "My lord–sir–emperor–" he began, stumbling over titles as if the right word might steady the situation. "If you release them now–if they are unshackled and permitted to move freely–there is a very real risk. The city's structural defenses may fail. The drawbridges and the sealed hinges were designed around the Court's security protocols. There is precedent. Destruction may follow."
The three faces did not so much as blink in answer. Their robes rustled like the turning of a vast clock. "The law must be seen to be impartial," the laughing head replied, voice like a cracked bell. "We cannot remain bound to caution while justice herself waits in the wings."
Even as they spoke, the hall tightened, the air drawn taut like a string. A cluster of armoured jurymen–eleven in all–stood at attention beneath the bench, their uniforms immaculate, their eyes masked and cold. They moved in a way that bespoke ritual rather than cruelty.
A clerk in the back whispered, "Gods help the city."
The whisper was still hot in the air when the sound came from the threshold. It was like thunder trapped in a metal throat. The doors that had stood sealed for half a century shattered inward with a violence that threw dust and sunlight into the high rafters. Wood and iron spat into the air in a shower of splinters. Those on the dais tensed, the three mouths parting as if to order a command, but the command never settled. It was a second too late.
Chaos arrived with the intruders. The Strawhats, Franky Family, Galley-La workers and every ally in their wake. They poured through the gap like a river that had remembered how to roar. The marines who had believed themselves prepared for protocol crumbled under the first roll of assault. Luffy was the eye of the perfect storm with his hat tilted back, grin like a bright, dangerous sun, hair still dark at the edges from the brief flicker earlier. Around him the others moved with the practiced terror of specialists: Zoro's blades sliced air into new rules, Sanji's feet carved arcs of fire and bone, Nami's staff coaxed currents of wind into whips.
The Eleven rose to meet them, not with panic but with the precise choreography of men who had been trained to be a law unto themselves. Their movements were judicial, measured, each strike a sentence. They fought as if the statutes had been forged into their bones. But the invaders were improvisation given form. Hammers smashed, ropes cracked, and the clangor of human will drowned out the last of the courthouse's solemn music.
Franky's forearms whirred as he met a juryman's sword with a super-sized wrench; sparks scattered like brief stars. Pauli and the Galley-La saw cut the floor beneath their opponent's boots, sending him into a clattering collapse. Chopper, in a compact, enraged fury, pounced between two jurymen and sent them tumbling with a doctor's care that translated into brutal force. Even Robin moved like a quiet storm, her arms folding into a pattern of decisive counterattacks that left an opponent gasping in the emptiness of where his balance had been.
From the dais, Judge Baskerville's three faces watched, and for a moment, the court seemed to hold its judgement for the mêlée below. Then a juryman, taller than the rest and half an inch too precise, stepped forward and slashed toward Luffy's head. The blow would have been surgical, a sentence delivered with no flourish, if not for the way Luffy answered.
He grinned, ducked, and then laughed with the easy abandon of a carefree child. In a blur that made the painted faces of the bench wobble, he coiled like a spring and launched himself with both legs driving forward. The motion was simple. A swinging, spring-powered arc that gathered the momentum of a hundred heartbeats. His boot connected with the wooden floor with a resounding crack and, with the force of a catapult release, met the three men in the trenchcoat who had considered themselves untouchable.
They flew as one. For a moment they were monstrous, three heads, three shock-frozen expressions, their trenchcoat a single flapping banner in the air. They landed in a trench the dust had hidden, clattering like an overturned puppet show. When the smoke and dust wafted away they rolled together, bodies limp, hats askew. Not dead, but flattened and unrespectable in a way that made the courtiers gasp.
Luffy dusted his hands while he pouted childishly, because his battles were always too fast for his taste.
"Again?" he said aloud, complaining with the directness of a child. "They always go out like that. I keep getting short fights."
Sanji, panting from a kick that had sent a juryman spiraling into a pile of case files, rolled his eyes with a tenderness that bordered on exasperation. "You wanted trouble," he muttered, and then, because there was no time for reproach, launched himself into the fray once more.
The comrades carved the courtroom into a theatre of working violence. The Eleven jurymen proved both agile and ruthless, trading law for lethal practice; yet the invaders brought ingenuity. Where a juryman relied on formal footwork and ritual parry, Usopp and the Galley-La workers used pulley and lever, ropes and angles, to displace and topple. Franky's modifications rendered armor useless, and Nami's storms made the floor slick enough that the jurymen slipped like men made of law rather than flesh.
Bodies fell. Some vanished into the hush of unconsciousness; others were mangled into a sorry quiet. It was messy and direct and every blow carried the need of the people who had sent them here–money, contract, truth. It took time, and each second chewed the precinct's dignity down to embers.
When the dust with the stink of gunpowder and sweat finally settled, only one of the jurymen remained upright and conscious among the ruin. He crouched beneath a toppled gavel, blinking owlishly as he tried to make the world right with precise leaps of breath. He was bruised, yes, and his uniform hung at odd angles, but pride still sat like a stone in his chest.
They dragged him out, not with a triumphant roar but with careful, almost embarrassed hands. The allies had lost more than a few people in the fray; victory came with a tiredness that tasted like iron and bread. No one in that ragged band wanted to spill more blood than necessary. They were looking for answers, not atrocities.
Robin stood close, eyes narrowed, not cold but calculating. She had seen and catalogued too much to believe in theatrical confessions. Nami's fingers were clenched around a strip of cloth; she would not let this thief keep them dangling in false security. Pauli stood nearby, face set like an axe-blade, willing to break ribs but preferring to avoid further damage.
"Talk," Robin said, voice low and steady. "Where are the levers that control the drawbridge?"
The juryman's eyes flashed a feral light. Despite the battered expressions and the ease with which they had been toppled, some men still believed they were divinely appointed. He spat blood into the dust. "You… will never pass the bridge," he said through clenched teeth, like a sentence he had been taught to hold as a talisman.
He was defiant until someone tied his wrists, and then he was merely stubborn. He would not speak plainly.
They decided on a method that made even the more brutal among them hesitate and then smirk with a strange, reluctant delight. It was a form of interrogation that required nimbleness rather than brutality; it was quick and intimate and, for once in the day, shockingly human.
They tickled him.
At first the juryman grunted, baffled. Then the spell of his discipline cracked. A twitch. A choked noise. Then, impossibly, a sound that was almost a laugh, sharp and honed by centuries of contempt. Pauli grinned in a way that made him look like a boy stealing candy. The juryman thrashed, a roiling, embarrassed confusion, and then he squawked.
"AlRIght–ALright! StOp–!The leVErs! Haha..! One's in the right-hand hall.. two, in the gallery behind the judge.. anD thrEE the maintenance corridor beneath the east window.. PleASE! Please stop!" he blurted, the confession collapsing out of him like a sentence finally read aloud.
Nami scribbled the layout in the margin of an old map she had retrieved. "Good," she said, exhaling, a hard, accomplishments-forged breath. "We have a way through."
The juryman's face, flushed and twitchy, collapsed into small, shamed breaths. He had been beaten but not broken; they had demanded information but spared him the moral oblivion of more violent ends. He whimpered and then, more quietly, began to sob, an absurd, human noise in a hall that had been full of laws.
.
"Funkfreed!" Spandam sang, waving a hand toward the elephant-headed sword perched obediently by the desk. "Look! Look, my beautiful companion, today, your master holds the key to godhood!"
He snatched a small, ornate Golden Den Den Mushi from its pedestal and held it aloft like a trophy. The snail's shell gleamed under the light, etched with the insignia of the Marine Admiralty.
"With this, my dear Funkfreed," Spandam cooed, "I can summon the might of the entire Navy with a single touch. The Buster Call! A divine hammer, fire from the heavens! Armadas of battleships, cannons enough to flatten a country! And all mine, hahahaha!"
The snail blinked lazily, unimpressed.
Spandam spun in circles, lost in his own fantasy. "Oh, the power! Just imagine! The ancient weapon, Pluton, and its blueprints in my grasp! I shall command them all! I'll make the Marines dance on strings and the world government bow at my feet!"
He puffed out his chest, striking a ridiculous pose before the glass. "Why, they'll sing songs about Spandam, the man who mastered Justice itself!"
Before he could continue his soliloquy, the door burst open.
"Director Spandam!" A government agent stumbled inside, pale and breathless. "Emergency transmission from the docks! The intruders, they've breached the Courthouse!"
"WHAT?!" Spandam spun so fast his mask of arrogance nearly fell off. "What do you mean they've breached? How incompetent are you–"
The Golden Den Den Mushi squeaked.
…Spandam's hand had slipped.
There was a sharp click, followed by a low, rising tone that sent every soul in the room cold. The snail's shell glowed crimson.
The agent's eyes went wide. "S-sir… that sound… tell me you didn't just–"
Spandam stared, blank-faced, then slowly turned toward the Den Den Mushi as realization sank in. "Oh no."
A high-pitched ping! confirmed it. The Buster Call had been activated.
"Oh NO!"
He lunged at the snail as if he could undo the world by shaking it. "STOP! STOP, YOU STUPID SLIMEBALL! I DIDN'T MEAN IT!"
The Den Den Mushi continued to hum, its expression now cold and mechanical as it transmitted the signal outward, to every battleship and admiralty channel across the Grand Line.
Spandam rounded on the terrified agent, shrieking. "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU JUST MADE ME DO?!"
The man flinched. "You pressed the–"
"I KNOW WHAT I PRESSED!" Spandam wailed, clutching his head. "Gather CP9! NOW! I want every agent here immediately! We're under attack from both sides! The Strawhats, and now the Marines!"
The tower erupted into chaos as officers scrambled, papers flying, alarms shrieking through the halls.
And far away, the call reached the Marine Headquarters.
.
The marine headquarters was alive with the low hum of reports, the rustle of paper, and the distant calls of seagulls over the harbor. Amidst it all, Fleet Admiral Sengoku stood with a receiver pressed tight to his ear, jaw set in irritation.
"Don't play dumb with me, Garp!" he barked into the Den Den Mushi. "Three days, and still no sighting of the 3Cs? Not one lead, not one report worth the ink it's written on!"
The snail's face mimicked Garp's, chewing idly on a cracker. "You can't rush tracking down ghosts, Sengoku. Maybe they don't wanna be found."
Sengoku slammed a hand on his desk. "They're not ghosts, they're criminals! Dangerous ones! Those brats have slipped through the fingers of two divisions, and you, Vice Admiral Garp, are lounging like a retiree!"
"Maybe I am," Garp replied, tone lazy but eyes shadowed. "Have you ever thought of that?"
Sengoku's teeth ground together. He opened his mouth for another tirade but then the alarm blared. A red light pulsed across the wall-mounted snails.
The Den Den Mushi on Sengoku's desk stiffened, its eyes spinning, its mouth repeating the same words in a cold monotone:
"Buster Call activated. Coordinates: Enies Lobby."
Sengoku froze, the color draining from his face. "What…?" he whispered, then louder, his voice carrying through the entire command room. "A Buster Call?! Who in the hell authorized a Buster Call on Enies Lobby!?"
The officers in the background scrambled for answers, their boots echoing like gunfire. The words hung heavy. Buster Call. The same order that had reduced Ohara to ashes.
On the other end of the line, Garp's hand had stopped mid-reach for another cracker. He said nothing, but his breath came quieter, slower.
Sengoku's head snapped toward the snail, eyes narrowing. "Garp, you still there?"
A pause. Then, too evenly, Garp spoke, "Yeah. I heard."
Sengoku exhaled sharply through his nose, fists tightening. "If you're not going to track those 3Cs properly, then you'll go to Enies Lobby instead. You're assisting in the Buster Call. And I'm not going to hear any damned 'no' from you this time."
Garp's jaw clenched, the familiar grin absent from his voice. "…Understood."
"Good," Sengoku said curtly. "I want results, not excuses."
He slammed the receiver down. The line went dead.
For a long moment, Garp just stared at the silent snail, its face blank again. The room around him was quiet except for the faint crunch of his forgotten crackers underfoot.
He tilted his head back, eyes closing as the distant sound of mobilizing battleships echoed from the harbor.
"…Luffy," he murmured under his breath.
The tide had already turned toward Enies Lobby.