In the violent clash between titans, Garp was severely injured—his arm shattered, body mangled. The battlefield trembled from the force.
Diamanti stepped forward, arms stretched to stop Doflamingo. His tone was heavy with urgency:
"If you don't move now, Young Master... we might lose everything. We might lose our future."
Doflamingo understood deeply—he had always known. With his strength alone, reaching Ayr's level was an impossible dream.
Diamanti added, voice low, almost reverent:
"Garp... one of the world's strongest, has fallen. He's completely lost his ability to fight."
Behind them, the rest of the Donquixote family—Pica, Torrepol, Gladius—rushed to hold Doflamingo back.
"Even someone like Garp... lost." Diamanti's voice was grim.
"Ayr isn't just strong. He wins easily in pure physical combat."
Doflamingo's sunglasses glinted in the fading light. He remained still, processing everything.
"I've made my decision." His voice cut like steel.
Diamanti glanced at his comrades, sorrow etched into his expression.
"We might die. But if I don't fight, I'll never forgive myself for being a coward."
The logic was clear: going up against Ayr, at their level, was suicide. But letting Ayr obtain the Op-Op Fruit meant no one else ever had a chance—not the Marines, not the Yonko, not him.
This wasn't just about the world balance—it was personal.
From afar, Doflamingo, Torrepol, and the others watched as Ayr brought Garp's broken body down. The man who once rivaled the Pirate King now lay unconscious at Ayr's feet.
The sight shook them all.
Doflamingo exhaled, voice low but charged with resolve:
"This level of power… you can't even call Ayr 'human' anymore."
"If I die today—so be it. That's fate."
"But if I don't try—if I stay here and watch—I'll lose anyway."
He heard the distant cries of war. Screams of Marines, explosions, Zephyr groaning through his pain.
Torrepol muttered beside him, "Attack, defense, physical strength... his abilities are flawless. It's like fighting a god."
But Doflamingo's mind was set.
"Let's go." He lifted into the air, feet no longer touching the ground, propelled by his String-String Fruit.
Diamanti called out again, trying one last time to reason with him.
"Young Master! If Ayr defeated Garp in one blow... what do you think we can do?!"
Doflamingo didn't flinch. His lips curled into a bitter grin.
"I finally understand." He paused, eyes staring down the battlefield.
"As long as people like Ayr exist, I can never become the Pirate King."
The words hung in the air like a funeral bell.
Diamanti clenched his fists. He knew what was coming.
"Young Master... don't be reckless!"
But there was no stopping Doflamingo now.
Ayr, his body glowing faintly with godlike energy, shoved the unconscious Garp to the ground with one hand. Cold, merciless. The earth beneath cracked.
"Only if Ayr dies... can the world avoid his absolute rule."
In Doflamingo's heart, the truth solidified.
"As long as he lives... I'll always be a shadow of his power. Always a lesser king."
Still, he grinned.
"But maybe, just maybe... if I fight, I can change that."
Diamanti stepped up with resolve burning in his eyes.
"Let me go first, Young Master. If you're determined to fight, let me pave the way. Torrepol, 813—follow me!"
Doflamingo nodded, the glint of ambition once again burning in his pupils.
"We need to get the Op-Op Fruit... even if it costs us everything."
In the end, his desire was always more than gold or blood. It was to control fate itself.
From above, his strings danced like a spider's web, ready to weave death.
Doflamingo looked at Diamanti—his loyal comrade—and gave a nod of thanks.
"We fight. Not because we're strong enough. But because we must."
Ayr's eyes gleamed, sensing their movement. He turned slowly, cold rays flashing from his gaze like a demon awakening.
The truth was cruel.
But the Donquixote family had made their choice.
With the fastest burst of speed they'd ever summoned, Doflamingo and Diamanti surged toward the battlefield like twin comets crashing into the storm of gods.
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