Woooo—!
A piercing horn blast echoed across the sea.
From the rear, the advancing Marine Headquarters fleet could just make out a tiny, smoke-belching dot surging ahead—charging straight toward the dense ranks of Golden Lion's fleet.
But the ship barreled forward as if nothing stood in its way. Unyielding. Relentless.
In that instant, every soul aboard the Headquarters fleet felt their blood ignite, eyes burning red with emotion.
Officers poured from their warships, some activating their Devil Fruit powers, others kicking off with Geppo—all racing toward that lone vessel.
On Garp's ship, Major General Keane seemed to sense something. He glanced back.
There—the massive Headquarters fleet was closing in, with countless warriors surging forward.
Keane smiled. It was a smile of radiant, unwavering resolve.
Whoosh—!
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Cannonballs rained down, some exploding in the sea, others tearing through the ship's hull. Flames devoured the deck and cabins, thick smoke billowing skyward. The firelight cast their faces in a hellish glow.
With only his right hand remaining, Keane gripped his sword and strode to the bow. Blood streamed from his severed arm and the gaping wounds through his body. His mind was already slipping.
He took a deep breath, face twisted in a fierce snarl. Staring down the Golden Lion fleet, he roared:
"EXECUTE! JUSTICE!!!"
He leapt forward, blade flashing—slicing incoming shells in half, sending them splashing into the sea.
Until...
A barrage of cannonballs swallowed him whole. He could hold on no longer.
BOOM!!!
A severed arm, still clutching a sword, fell into the sea. But there was no sign of a body.
The charge continued.
The burning, battered warship refused to stop—still ramming toward Golden Lion's fleet.
The last surviving Marines hurled themselves at the incoming shells, one after another.
Woooo—!
The massive horn blared, never ceasing, as the ship pressed on.
The pirate ships of Golden Lion's fleet loomed ever closer.
"Madmen!"
"They're lunatics!"
"They're coming right at us!"
"Hard to port! Hurry!"
"Move! MOVE!!!"
As the warship thundered toward them, the pirate captains finally panicked—scrambling to turn their ships and escape.
They'd thought this was a desperate last stand, never imagining the Marines were hell-bent on mutual destruction.
This was insanity. Even pirates weren't this crazy.
"Turn! TURN, DAMN IT!!!"
A pirate captain directly in the warship's path screamed in terror.
"It's too late!"
"Jump overboard!"
The pirate helmsman's face was white with fear.
These ships were massive—dodging in time was all but impossible.
Closer.
Closer still.
Woooo—!
The burning, smoke-choked warship, under the pirates' horrified gaze, crashed into them.
A few seconds later...
CRAAAASH!!!!
A deafening impact exploded across the sea.
They'd collided.
The Marine warship, with grim finality, rammed straight into the pirate vessel.
The bow shattered, splinters flying. Under the crushing momentum, every remaining Marine was smashed bloody and broken.
The ship's helmsman, barely alive, dragged himself up—leaving a trail of bloody footprints as he staggered toward the ammunition hold.
He shoved open the heavy door. Inside: rows upon rows of cannonballs.
If there was one thing Garp's ship never lacked, it was firepower.
The helmsman grabbed a shell, stumbling toward the largest ones in the center. He raised it with the last of his strength, blood bubbling from his lips.
"Execute... justice..."
His body went limp, life snuffed out.
The shell slipped from his grasp, falling forward.
CLANG—
BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!!!
A chain reaction of explosions tore through the ship. In an instant, the entire warship—and the pirate vessel with it—became a towering fireball that shot into the sky.
Within hundreds of meters, nothing survived.
Stunned.
Utterly stunned.
The surrounding pirate captains stared at the inferno, fear gnawing at their hearts.
"Madmen."
"All Marines are madmen."
"This... this..."
For the first time, doubt crept into their minds.
If all Marines were this insane... could they really win?
Veteran pirate captains suddenly remembered what that blaring horn had always meant.
Back when they first set sail, whenever the horn sounded, no matter what they were plundering, they'd drop everything and flee.
Because that horn meant—the Marines were coming.
"Captain, look!"
"What?!"
Far off, countless tiny black dots leapt across the sky, streaking toward them.
A pirate captain, peering through his spyglass, broke out in a cold sweat.
He called his men over, whispering, "Tell the helmsman—back away, quietly! Don't let anyone notice!"
He kept his spyglass trained on the horizon, nerves taut.
As the black dots drew closer, the fluttering cloaks emblazoned with "Justice" came into view.
Blades of wind and bursts of power rained from above, pounding down on Golden Lion's fleet.
Some of the stronger pirate captains fought back, swinging swords or unleashing their own powers.
Hundreds of meters above the Big Mom Pirates' ship, Enel stood expressionless, conjuring spear after spear of thunder and hurling them downward.
Below, Katakuri's formidable Observation Haki let him anticipate each strike—every time, his mochi powers rose to block the thunder spears.
But Enel's own Observation Haki was locked onto Katakuri as well.
Lightning's speed wasn't something that could be blocked by foresight alone...
He snorted softly, then began conjuring thunder spears even faster.
In the distance, the Headquarters fleet was closing in on the Big Mom Pirates.
The seventh day of the Great Battle of Scree.
Under the Headquarters fleet's relentless bombardment, half of Golden Lion's fleet was destroyed. The survivors fled, clustering around Golden Lion himself.
Meanwhile, the Big Mom Pirates were surrounded by Marine warships, unable to break free. With so many powerful Devil Fruit users aboard, a fierce stalemate raged.
But Enel seized every opportunity, his thunder spears claiming the lives of several pirates. Judging by the fury of the mochi-wielding man at their head, some of the dead must have been important.
Elsewhere—
The Marine forces had regrouped atop the magma landmass Sakazuki had forged.
The most ravaged among them were Sakazuki and Zephyr—their bodies battered, barely a patch of unbroken skin.
One had fought Whitebeard to the bitter end, the other had clashed with Roger.
Both now tore into Sea King meat, using Life Absorption to recover their strength.
Nearby, Sengoku, Garp, and Fleet Admiral Kong—all bearing their own wounds—gathered to plan their next move.
"Whitebeard's aura is fading fast."
"Death is only a matter of time."
"Now we need to decide how to deal with Golden Lion, Roger, and Charlotte Linlin."
Kong thought for a moment, then barked orders:
"Sengoku, keep Charlotte Linlin busy."
"Garp, take on Golden Lion."
"Zephyr, handle Rayleigh."
"Sakazuki, you deal with that Frank."
"I'll go after Roger myself."
Everyone nodded. Kong narrowed his eyes at the distant Oro Jackson.
Battles between true monsters were never decided quickly. But Roger was gravely wounded—if they could kill him now, even at great cost, it would be worth it.
Aboard the Oro Jackson—
Whitebeard jolted awake from unconsciousness.
He glanced around—so this was Roger's ship...
Turning his head, he saw Marco napping nearby.
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
He reached out, wanting to ruffle Marco's hair, but stopped himself—afraid to wake the boy.
Slowly, he lowered his hand, pulled out the IV from his arm, and quietly picked up his naginata.
He slipped out, pushing open the cabin door, and faced the crew.
"Gurararara! Roger, Shiki, Linlin."
Roger, Shiki, and Charlotte Linlin looked at Whitebeard in silence—they all knew this was the final flare of his life.
After a moment, Roger spoke first:
"Newgate."
Whitebeard grinned, his booming laugh echoing:
"Gurararara! Don't worry, Roger. My journey just ends here."
"But... I'm sorry."
"For dragging you all into this."
He swept his gaze over everyone, as if trying to etch each face into memory.
A hush fell over the deck.
Behind him, Marco's tearful voice trembled:
"Pops!!!"
At some point, Marco had woken and rushed out, crashing into Whitebeard's chest in sobs.
Whitebeard's huge arms enveloped him, a gentle hand stroking the boy's head.
His eyes softened—family.
Then he turned to Roger.
"Roger, I'll leave Marco to you from now on."
Marco, eyes red with tears, looked up at him.
"Pops..."
Whitebeard patted his head and gently set him down.
He looked at everyone and gave a radiant smile.
"Everyone, I'll go on ahead."
With that, his naginata struck the deck with a heavy thud as he strode toward the bow.
Roger, Shiki, and Linlin all closed their eyes, unable to watch.
"Newgate..." x3
Standing at the bow, Whitebeard gazed out at the five figures on the distant magma landmass and smiled.
"Marines."
He drew a deep breath. His body flushed red, muscles swelling until he seemed even larger.
Steam billowed from his frame.
Channeling his power to his fingertips, he raised both hands above his head, then dragged them down.
It was as if some invisible force fought against him, making each downward motion a struggle.
"AHHHHHHH!!!"
Whitebeard roared, his face twisted in agony, muscles tearing as he dragged his hands down to his waist.
As his power-laden hands moved from overhead to his waist, his body froze.
The flush faded, steam dissipated, and all life left him.
He died with a crescent smile, eyes fixed on the horizon.
The moment Whitebeard died, everyone across the battlefield felt a primal, mortal terror—especially the Marines. It was instinct.
RUMBLE!
With a sound like ancient thunder, the world seemed to turn upside down. The sea covered the sky, black clouds pressed to the earth. Massive islands were ripped from somewhere and hurled down.
It wasn't an illusion. With Whitebeard's final, awakened strike, the sky and sea twisted, islands wrenched free and slammed into the battlefield.
The sea itself cracked and caved like earth. Countless chasms and abysses opened. In that instant, both Marines and pirates suffered catastrophic losses.
RUMBLE!
The world trembled, the chaos refusing to subside.
The Scree Sea was left barren—no islands, no life. Only the battered fleets of pirates and Marines remained, locked in grim struggle.
In July, Sea Circle Calendar 1490, the Great Battle of Scree erupted.
The world's most powerful pirates and Marines clashed.
Golden Lion's fleet was mostly destroyed.
The Roger Pirates lost nearly half their number.
Big Mom Pirates—several of Charlotte Linlin's children fell.
Of the Whitebeard Pirates, only Marco survived; the rest were wiped out.
The great pirate Whitebeard, Edward Newgate, fell in battle.
On the Marine side:
Admiral Zephyr was gravely wounded, resigned his commission, and became Chief Instructor at the Marine Academy.
Vice Admiral Sakazuki was critically injured, left in a coma.
Admiral Sengoku was severely wounded and went missing.
Vice Admiral Garp and Fleet Admiral Kong suffered minor injuries, returning to Headquarters to oversee the aftermath.
Nearly half the Headquarters warships were lost.
After the battle, 23,747 soldiers were confirmed dead.
A monument hundreds of meters tall was erected in Marineford's plaza.
In the years after the Great Battle of Scree, the seas entered an uneasy, haunting calm...
Half a year later...
Sea Circle Calendar 1491, Marine Headquarters Hospital.
After six months in a coma, Sakazuki's eyes snapped open.
A wild, ancient aura erupted from him, sweeping through all of Marine Headquarters—then vanished as quickly as it came.
Something about Sakazuki had changed forever.
CRACK!
Thunder split the air.
Enel smashed through the window, his eyes shining with delight.
Sakazuki looked at the young man, now radiating even greater power, and smiled with rare approval.
~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~
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