Renn Hawk stood silently, his gaze falling on Gan Fall and the Shandian Chief before him. His eyes swept past the two elders, both of whom represented the hopes and burdens of their people, and then moved to the faces gathered behind them faces marked with uncertainty, exhaustion, and the faintest spark of longing.
Rule this sky?
The thought had never crossed his mind.
Gan Fall was a man who loved his people with the heart of a true leader. The Shandian Chief too, though hardened by the weight of blood and tradition, was a worthy guardian of his people's dignity. In the original flow of history, these two had shared the leadership of Skypiea, bringing balance and peace. That was, and still should be, the best possible ending.
Hawk's own mission lay elsewhere. His task was to cleanse the seas of corruption and prepare the stage so that, one year from now, the Summit War would erupt as fate intended. Whitebeard and the other Emperors of the Sea would eventually fall, one by one, cast into the abyss by his blade. Only after he had forged his absolute strength would it be time to rebuild the world's order.
For now, all he needed from Skypiea was the treasure buried in its clouds the fabled City of Gold.
He raised a hand, a simple gesture that eased the stiff formality in the two elders' posture. Tilting his head toward a clearing, he spoke calmly.
"Let's talk over there."
Gan Fall and the Shandian Chief exchanged a glance. Though unease flickered across their faces, they obeyed and followed.
In a quiet corner, Hawk spoke without ceremony.
"I am a naval officer. My duty is to uphold justice and preserve order. I have no intention of interfering with how you govern your land or your people."
His eyes narrowed slightly. "In other words, I grant you the right to self-rule."
The elders froze. For a moment, disbelief washed over their faces.
This man, whose power had toppled their so-called god and his four priests with terrifying ease, was not here to enslave them? He was not here to demand tribute or submission, but to return their freedom to them?
"I have only one condition." Hawk's voice sharpened. "From this day on, the conflict between Skypieans and Shandians ends. Your hatred over land, your endless fighting I will not tolerate another drop of blood spilled for it."
Gan Fall's old eyes softened with relief. He bowed his head, his voice steady. "You have my word, Commander Hawk. Peace has always been the deepest wish of my heart."
The Shandian Chief was silent for a moment. Then his deep voice followed. "The Shandians will honor your command."
Hawk gave a single nod, his approval plain.
"Good. But know this Navy protection is never free. As the price, I will take all of Skypiea's gold."
The word struck like a hammer. Gold. The Shandians had guarded the golden ruins for generations, calling it their sacred land, their ancestors' pride. The Chief stiffened. Yet as he looked to Gan Fall, then to the weary faces of his people, the weight of choice pressed upon him.
Compared to peace, freedom, and a future free of bloodshed, what meaning did gold truly hold?
He bowed his head, conceding without protest.
"Then we are agreed." Hawk withdrew two small Den Den Mushi from his coat and placed them in the elders' hands. "These will connect you to me directly. If an outside enemy threatens your people, contact me at once."
The two elders exchanged another look. This time their eyes carried relief instead of doubt.
Gold in exchange for lasting peace, and the promise of naval protection. For their battered people, there could be no better bargain.
"Commander Hawk," they said together, bowing deeply, "thank you."
Hawk merely rested a hand on each of their shoulders before turning away. Without another word, he strode forward, his officers falling in behind him as they marched toward the hidden golden city.
…
Back in the main square, Gan Fall and the Shandian Chief returned to the waiting crowd. The air was thick with tension. Thousands of eyes bore down on them, anxious for the decision that would decide their fate.
Gan Fall raised his voice, clear and resonant.
"From this day forward, Skypiea shall be governed by a united council. I and the Shandian Chief will rule together. The grudges of the past end here. We will rebuild this land, not as enemies, but as one people!"
The Shandian Chief lifted his staff, adding his voice to the proclamation.
"Commander Hawk will be our eternal ally and protector. He has freed us, not enslaved us. From today onward, there are no more gods. Only freedom!"
The silence that followed cracked apart like a dam.
Centuries of hatred. Six long years of terror beneath Enel's tyranny. All of it shattered in an instant. The square erupted into jubilant cries, the people clinging to one another, throwing their children into the air, their voices rising together into the clouds.
"It's Commander Hawk!"
"He gave us peace!"
"The sky is free again!"
Among them, a shell merchant found himself hoisted into the air by his son. He laughed until his sides hurt, then froze as a thought struck him like lightning. He slapped his son's shoulder until the boy lowered him.
"I remember now!" His eyes bulged, his breath quickening. "Commander Hawk… he asked me the price of shells before! He likes our shells!"
The idea gripped him like wildfire. His chest pounded as he shouted to his family.
"Don't just stand there! Back to the shop! Empty the shelves, the warehouse too every last shell! We'll give them all to Commander Hawk!"
A neighbor overheard, startled. "What are you doing?"
The merchant puffed out his chest. "Commander Hawk loves shells. He said so himself! We'll give him everything we have. It's how we honor our hero!"
"Truly?!"
"Of course!"
The neighbor ran off before the words were even finished, eager to fetch his own offering.
And so the rumor spread, faster than the wind that carried their jubilant cheers.
"Did you hear? Commander Hawk, the great hero, he loves Skypiean shells!"
"No, no he loves dried sky-fish too!"
"My cousin's neighbor swore he heard Hawk enjoys Skypiean whiskey!"
"Someone told me that as long as it's from the sky, he loves it all! He adores our land!"
The wildfire grew. Farmers sprinted back to their cloud-pumpkin fields. Weavers rushed home for their softest cloud-cotton. Brewers dug out casks of thirty-year-old cloud spirits. Bakers carried trays of angel cakes. Every household, Skypiean and Shandian alike, poured their treasures into the square.
The plaza filled with heaps of offerings shells, cloth, harvests, fish, cakes, and every prideful creation the islanders could muster. All for the man who had brought them freedom.
Gan Fall and the Shandian Chief stood shoulder to shoulder, watching their people's frenzy with soft smiles.
"These children…" Gan Fall chuckled, shaking his head. "They only want to show their gratitude."
The Chief nodded gravely, though his lips curved upward. "We merely follow the will of the people. There is no fault in that."
"None at all," Gan Fall agreed. He let out a laugh, glancing toward the mountain of gifts rising higher by the minute. "Still… I wonder if Commander Hawk will be overwhelmed when he returns for the gold."
The two leaders burst into hearty laughter as the sky above filled with the cries of a people reborn.
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