One by one, the officers lowered their heads in silence.
Their faces were filled with frustration and helplessness. Some clenched their fists so tightly that their knuckles turned white, fingernails digging into their palms without them even noticing the pain.
They all understood how humiliating Sengoku's order was.
It was a compromise forced upon them by an overwhelmingly powerful enemy and the brutal reality of their current condition.
Yet for the battered Marines, it was perhaps the only rational choice left.
Endure the humiliation now and wait for the day they could rise again.
Painful as that decision was, it became the understanding shared by everyone in the room.
Then Vice Admiral Momonga spoke.
"What about Sabo and the others… a month from now?"
That single question pierced straight through the fragile consensus they had just reached.
The room immediately grew tense again.
There was still the matter of the public execution scheduled for one month later—the execution of Revolutionary Army Chief of Staff Sabo and the captured commanders.
And that was not an order the Marines had decided upon themselves.
It had come directly from the God's Knights.
More importantly, it represented the will of the World Government itself.
Marine Headquarters had merely been assigned the role of executioner.
On the surface, it was simply a public execution.
In reality, everyone in the room understood exactly what it was.
A trap.
A massive, bloody trap deliberately laid out in the open.
It was a scheme so obvious that there was no need to conceal it.
Everyone could see what the World Government intended.
The captured Revolutionary Army leaders would be publicly executed, forcing anyone who wished to save them to come directly to Marineford.
The Revolutionaries would know it was a trap.
They would know Marine Headquarters would be waiting.
And yet, if they still cared about Sabo and the others, they would have little choice but to walk into it.
That was what made the plan so vicious.
Every eye in the room returned to Sengoku.
The Fleet Admiral's brow, which had only just begun to relax, tightened once again.
He rubbed his throbbing temples.
Of course he understood how troublesome this was.
Refuse?
That would mean openly defying both the World Government and the God's Knights.
The consequences of such a decision would be impossible to predict.
But if they obeyed…
Marine Headquarters would once again become the center of the storm.
The surviving Revolutionary Army forces could attempt a rescue.
Those people were not ordinary criminals who would abandon their comrades simply because the odds were bad. They had fought for years for their beliefs, and many of them would willingly risk their lives to save Sabo and the captured commanders.
A rescue attempt was almost inevitable.
And then there was an even more dangerous uncertainty.
The Eternal Divine Kingdom.
No one knew what Ron intended to do.
But after everything that had happened, there was no chance the Marines could afford to dismiss the possibility of the Divine Kingdom intervening.
If Ron's forces appeared on the day of the execution as well, the situation could spiral completely out of control.
Only moments ago, Sengoku had issued an order to avoid unnecessary conflict with the Eternal Divine Kingdom.
Yet on the day of the execution, that policy might become meaningless.
If both sides arrived at Marineford with opposing objectives, there would be no room left to avoid confrontation.
The World Government had effectively placed the Marines directly over the flames and left them there to burn.
For almost a full minute, no one spoke.
Sengoku remained seated with his head lowered.
The silence stretched until even the passing seconds seemed heavy.
Eventually, he raised his head.
The exhaustion in his eyes was impossible to hide.
Beneath it lay something even more troubling—a deep sense of powerlessness before a situation that had already grown far beyond Marine Headquarters alone.
His gaze moved slowly around the table.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low and hoarse.
"As for the public execution…"
He paused, carefully weighing his words.
"This matter is too serious for us to decide on our own."
The room remained silent.
"There are too many forces involved, too many risks, and too many possible consequences."
Sengoku's expression hardened slightly.
"This is no longer something Marine Headquarters can control through our own strength alone."
...
Sengoku drew a long breath, as though gathering what remained of his resolve.
Then his voice rose slightly, carrying a firmness that left no room for argument.
"I'll go to Mary Geoise myself and report the situation directly to the higher-ups."
His expression hardened.
"I'll explain exactly how desperate our current position has become, along with the losses we've suffered and the difficulties Marine Headquarters is facing."
"More importantly, I'll make it clear what kind of risk they're asking us to take if they insist on carrying out this execution."
This was no longer merely a question of whether Marine Headquarters could successfully execute Sabo and the Revolutionary Army commanders.
If the event triggered another major battle, the consequences could spiral far beyond anything the battered Marines could control.
After a brief pause, Sengoku continued.
"I'll also request clearer instructions from above."
His voice lowered slightly.
"And, if necessary… adequate reinforcements."
He did not need to elaborate.
Everyone understood what he meant.
Marine Headquarters no longer possessed the strength or resources to shoulder this problem alone.
If the Five Elders and the World Government wanted the Marines to stand at the front and bear the full impact of whatever storm the public execution created, then they would have to provide the manpower, weapons, resources, and support necessary to make that possible.
They could not continue issuing orders from behind the lines while expecting an already crippled Marine force to absorb every blow.
The officers around the table exchanged grim looks.
None of them liked the thought of appealing to the World Government for help.
After everything that had happened, having to admit that Marine Headquarters could no longer handle the situation by itself was humiliating.
But there was no better option.
Trying to shoulder everything alone in their current state might genuinely destroy the Marines.
As bitter as asking for assistance was, at least it might buy them time to breathe.
"Dismissed."
Sengoku waved a tired hand.
"All departments are to focus on recovery. Treat the wounded, reorganize the surviving units, and repair Marineford as quickly as possible."
His gaze passed over the room.
"Until new orders arrive from Mary Geoise, maintain the current policy and stabilize the situation."
The officers silently rose.
Worry, anger, frustration, and uncertainty remained written across their faces as they saluted Sengoku one after another.
Then they left.
Their footsteps gradually faded down the corridor until silence returned to the office.
Sengoku remained seated, staring through the damaged window at the devastated Marineford beyond.
The scars left by the battle would not disappear quickly.
Neither would the problems surrounding them.
Ahead stood the Eternal Divine Kingdom, powerful, mysterious, and increasingly impossible to ignore.
Behind them stood the God's Knights and the World Government, whose demands continued to place enormous pressure on an organization already near its limit.
The Marines had once been a great warship feared across the seas.
Now that ship was riddled with holes, struggling through a violent storm without even knowing which direction offered safe waters.
And hanging over everything was the public execution one month from now.
Sengoku could not predict what it would unleash.
Another war?
A collision between several of the world's greatest powers?
Or something even worse?
He had no answer.
...
The heavy wooden door finally closed behind the last departing officer, shutting out the noise of the ruined headquarters.
Only three elderly figures remained in the spacious office.
Sengoku.
Tsuru.
And Garp.
The three of them had witnessed decades of Marine history together. They had survived the rise and fall of countless pirates, fought through one era after another, and watched the balance of the seas change more times than most people could imagine.
Yet even they had rarely faced a situation this bleak.
Thump.
Garp dropped heavily onto the sofa.
For once, the Hero of the Marines did not sit with his usual imposing posture.
His broad shoulders sagged slightly beneath an exhaustion that seemed to have nothing to do with the battle he had just fought.
His eyes wandered toward the table.
Someone had left half a cup of cold tea there.
Garp grabbed it without caring whose it was and drained it in one gulp.
The tea did nothing to ease the weight in his chest.
"Damn…"
He rubbed a hand roughly across his face and let out a long sigh.
When he spoke again, there was a rare trace of defeat in his voice.
"I never thought things would get this bad."
His hands slowly curled into fists.
"These fists of mine used to feel like they could solve damn near anything."
Garp stared down at them.
"Now…"
He gave a bitter laugh.
"…even they're starting to feel like they're not enough."
The image of Marineford in ruins remained lodged in his mind.
Burning buildings.
Wounded soldiers.
The devastation Kaido and Bullet had left behind.
Then he remembered Sengoku.
His old friend had always carried enormous responsibility, but Garp had never seen him look quite this exhausted before.
For the first time in many years, even the Hero of the Marines could not punch his way toward an obvious answer.