[Zephyr's POV]
Inside the dimly lit infirmary, I stare at my right arm, or rather, what's left of it. Just a stump, tightly wrapped in thick, sterile bandages. A dull ache pulses from it, crawling up to my shoulder. But the pain doesn't compare to the fury simmering in my chest.
'I should've finished him when I had the chance... If I had known he had Haki—damn it.'
My jaw clenches. The memory of those teeth sinking into my flesh flashes back. That moment burned itself into my mind.
"Damn it!!"
I slam my left fist into the wall behind me. The impact echoes sharply through the room. An infirmary nurse standing in the doorway flinches but stays silent.
I slowly sit down on the edge of the bed, every muscle coiled tight.
'Pirates... Always the damn pirates.'
"Are you alright, Mr. Zephyr?" the nurse asks cautiously as she steps further into the room.
"I'm fine." I answer coldly without looking at her. "How many made it out?"
She hesitates, then says quietly. "Only Ain, Binz and Shuzo… The others didn't make it."
Without waiting for a response, she quietly exits the room, the door clicking shut behind her.
I sit there in silence.
'I already lost my wife… and my son…' My voice drops to a whisper."Now my division too..."
Grief burns, but it's wrapped in something darker now. A bitter finality. A rage sharpened by failure.
The Den Den Mushi on the table rings, breaking the silence. I pick it up. It's Kuzan. "Hey, how are y—"
"I'm done." I interrupt him before he can finish.
A pause. Then his voice turns serious. "What do you mean, Zephyr?"
"I'm retiring." I say, my tone flat and unwavering.
[Caius' POV]
I stared at the wanted posters. There I was my image printed in bold ink, eyes cold.
"CAIUS — 170,000,000 BERRIES — DEAD OR ALIVE."
Next came Mihawk's.
"DRACULE MIHAWK — 95,000,000 BERRIES."
And then Beckman's.
"BENN BECKMAN — 87,000,000 BERRIES."
I chuckled, the motion tugging at the bruises along my ribs. "Well…" I muttered under my breath. "looks like we've made our entrance."
[Zephyr's POV]
A few days had passed. The wounds had begun to scab over, but the bitterness hadn't.
The den den mushi crackled to life. "I heard the news, so you're quitting, huh? Giving up?! You coward!" Garp's voice, loud and brash as always.
I narrowed my eyes. "Your provocations won't work on me, Garp. I've made my decision." And with that, I hung up.
I turned to face them, what was left of my division. Just three. Three out of an entire unit. They stood tall, fists clenched, eyes resolute.
"You're sure about this? About following me?" I asked.
Without hesitation, they answered in unison: "Yes, Commander Zephyr!"
A beat passed. I studied them. Still so young. Still with hope in their eyes.
"Very well... Then let's move."
[Monkey D. Garp's POV]
"Huh... he actually hung up on me." Sigh.
"If someone had told me back in the day that Zephyr would quit before I did... I'd have laughed right in their face."
I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed behind my head, letting out another tired sigh as I glanced at the messy pile of wanted posters stacked across my desk. The ink was still fresh on some of them. The faces were young. Too young.
I shuffled through them slowly.
"Crocodile... Mihawk... Beckman... Caius..." My eyes narrowed slightly.Then I pulled out another one. A face I knew all too well.
"Dragon."
I leaned forward, elbows on the desk, hands steepled.
"All these kids... coming out of nowhere. Stirring up storms all over the seas."
I stared at the posters in silence for a long while, the weight of generations pressing on my shoulders.
"That damn Roger... you really left us with one hell of a mess."
And yet, somehow... I smiled. The sea was never meant to stay still.
[Caius' POV]
We were now on course for the Grand Line. The wind was steady, the sea calm, for now.
During the past few days, we'd managed to get our hands on a better ship. Larger, sturdier, faster. One that could actually handle the madness ahead. The old one had done its job, barely, but if we wanted to stand a chance beyond the Red Line, we needed more than sails and luck.
I stood at the bow, the salty breeze brushing against my face, coat swaying behind me.
Beckman was at the helm, steady hands as always. Mihawk leaned against the railing, arms crossed, his eyes half-closed in thought, or maybe in boredom.
The calm before the storm.
Later...
"There it is. Dead ahead." Beckman said, his voice cutting through the wind.
I stepped up beside him at the helm. What lay before us defied everything I thought I knew, the sea itself was climbing. A raging upward current spiraled along the face of the Red Line like a monstrous serpent made of water, pulling ships toward the sky.
Rain hammered down in thick sheets, the waves below thrashing with violent intent. Our ship groaned as it was lifted by the unnatural pull of the current.
"You good, Beckman?" Mihawk asked, standing near the mast, his eyes locked on the chaos ahead.
"Yeah. Don't worry, I've got this." Beckman replied, calm and focused, hands steady on the wheel.
And still, we pressed forward. I let out a low, sharp grin. "Let's raise."
The sea roared beneath us as we surged forward, the ship pulled violently into the upward current of Reverse Mountain. Rain lashed against the sails, waves pounded the hull, and the wind howled like a beast hungry for shipwrecks.
Beckman stood firm at the helm, eyes sharp, jaw clenched. For a moment, it felt like we were going to crash straight into the rocky wall of the mountain. The current shifted fast, too fast, and the bow tilted dangerously close to the jagged cliffside.
"Beckman!" Mihawk shouted, bracing himself.
But Beckman didn't panic. His fingers flicked across the wheel, twisting it with the skill of a man born at sea. The ship veered just in time, missing the rock wall by a breath.
The tension snapped, we were in the clear, the current pulling us straight through the inner passageway.
Beckman let out a breath and looked over his shoulder at us with a cocky grin.
"I told you— I got this."