"Garp! Zephyr! Are you two alright?!" Crane's anxious voice cut through the dust and smoke still hanging in the air. From within the haze, a majestic figure emerged—Ayr, now fully clad in the robes of the Sage of Six Paths. His flawless white outfit shimmered faintly, marked by six black magatama across the collar. With one arm, he supported a staggering Zephyr as they stepped out from the explosion's aftermath.
Zephyr nodded weakly. "Don't even mention it. If I hadn't coated myself with Armament Haki in advance, I'd be dead now," he muttered bitterly. The words weren't pretty, but they were the truth. The sheer destructive force behind Ayr's perfect Truth-Seeking Ball was staggering. His explosive power was deep, precise, and horrifying. And what made it worse—Ayr hadn't even planned to continue using it.
Sengoku, standing in the distance, stared with disbelief as the perfect Truth-Seeking Ball slowly returned to Ayr's side, reconstituting itself from the energy still pulsing in the air. "How is this possible? Can he use that sphere... infinitely?"
Compared to Ayr, those self-proclaimed "gods" among the Celestial Dragons were nothing. Weaklings playing dress-up. But Ayr—he was terrifyingly divine. His pressure alone distorted the air, the atmosphere bending around him without effort. Just standing near him could rob a person of their will to fight.
Doflamingo, watching from afar, instinctively took a step back. The power emanating from Ayr wasn't just intimidating—it was sacred, commanding. Like the Will of the Sage himself. The Six Paths tin staff materialized in Ayr's hand, sun on one end, moon on the other—a weapon said to be wielded only by true gods like the Sage of Six Paths or Ōtsutsuki Kaguya.
Zephyr's pessimism seeped through. "We were naive. So naive... Thinking the Marines could win this." His Armament Haki, cracked and peeling, began to fade from his bruised body. Meanwhile, Garp coughed hard, emerging from the smoke with a defiant grin, his battle-worn body still emitting sheer willpower. "I'm lucky... not dead yet!"
Crane rushed over, checking on them both, her face tight with concern. "Fortunately, Ayr doesn't have many of those spheres... one less each time they explode, right?"
"No," Sengoku replied gravely. "You think too well. That Truth-Seeking Ball... it doesn't disappear at all. Even after all that, it's still intact."
At this, Diamanti stumbled back a step. "That kind of terrifying coercion... I'm afraid just watching might kill us!" Around them, lesser Marines were already fainting, overwhelmed by the sheer presence Ayr gave off.
Sengoku frowned. "Even with Armament Haki, Garp and Zephyr still took damage? That's not defense... that's desperation."
"I thought we'd evolved after all these years," Garp said aloud, addressing Sengoku and Crane, "but the truth is... we're still behind him."
The situation had become clear. Ayr, infused with the full power of the Ten Tails, was now more than a pirate or a warrior. The crimson steam swirling around his body pulsed like a heartbeat, the symbol of overwhelming chakra. Even among the strongest—Whitebeard, Kaido, or Blackbeard—none had shown this kind of divine pressure.
"This is... the power of a god," someone whispered.
Despite their injuries, Garp and Zephyr stood tall, fists clenched, blood dripping from their brows. Their spirit hadn't broken, but their bodies were nearing their limits.
"Ayr hasn't even used his Conqueror's Haki yet," Crane said quietly, her voice trembling. "If he does... this entire battlefield could collapse."
Sengoku took a deep breath and spoke with steel in his voice. "Then we don't give him that chance. We hold him here, even if it kills us."
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