The temperature in the room dropped.
Not literally... Admiral Force didn't work like that, but everyone felt it. The casual warmth that had radiated from Lone like sunlight through clouds was gone, replaced by something vast and cold and utterly indifferent to human comfort.
"You talk too much," Lone said quietly.
His hand was still holding chopsticks. He hadn't stood up. He hadn't even turned his full attention away from his bowl. But his coat... that tattered, oversized admiral's coat moved like it was alive.
Like it was hungry.
Hotdog's leg trembled, caught in fabric that suddenly felt like iron wrapped in silk. He tried to pull back, tried to flood his Admiral Force through his body to break free, but the coat drank it. Absorbed it like desert sand swallowing rain.
"What... what the hell is this?!" Hotdog's voice cracked, the theatrical menace evaporating into something raw and real.
Lone finally looked up. His eyes were empty of their usual warmth. What remained was the clarity he reserved for his dream, that frightening, absolute focus that saw through pretense and excuses straight to the truth of things.
"You hurt my fleet member," he said simply.
Then the coat moved.
It unwrapped from Lone's shoulders like a snake uncoiling, billowing outward with impossible volume. The tattered edges split into dozens of strips that writhed through the air with predatory grace. One wrapped around Hotdog's caught leg, then another around his waist, then his chest, then... his throat.
"Boss!" Ketchup lunged forward, Admiral Force blazing in his fists---
A strip of coat caught his wrist, another his ankle. He went down hard, face-first into the floorboards.
The other three crew members froze.
Hotdog clawed at the fabric around his neck, but it was like trying to tear steel with his fingernails. The coat constricted, not violently, but with the patient, inexorable pressure of something that knew it couldn't be stopped. His Admiral Force, those stolen souls screaming in his patchwork coat flared desperately, trying to match the pressure.
The Uncrowned swallowed it all without effort.
"Can't... breathe---" Hotdog's face was turning purple.
Lone stood up, finally. He walked around the table with the same casual gait he'd used entering the restaurant, like he was going to ask about dessert options. His coat streamed behind him, extending impossibly far, keeping Hotdog suspended two feet off the ground.
The distance between them closed.
Lone tilted his head, studying Hotdog like he was an interesting bug. "You know what I think?"
Hotdog couldn't answer. Could barely gasp.
"I think you're scared too," Lone continued, his voice conversational despite the violence his coat was committing. "I think you're so scared of being weak that you have to prove you're strong by hurting people who won't fight back. That's why you collected all those souls, right? Why you came here looking for Donut specifically?"
The coat tightened another increment. Hotdog's eyes bulged.
"Because deep down, you know. You know that real strength doesn't come from stealing other people's souls. It comes from believing in something bigger than yourself." Lone's smile returned, but it was sharp now, all edges. "And you don't believe in anything, do you? You're just... empty."
Behind them, Donut was standing now, hammer in hand, watching with wide eyes. The fear was still there, it would always be there... but something else was kindling beneath it. Something that looked almost like hope.
"Captain," Donut said carefully. "That's enough. You're going to kill him."
"Hmm?" Lone glanced back, and just like that, the terrifying clarity was gone, replaced by his usual vacant cheer. "Oh! Yeah, you're probably right. Killing's bad, old man Basco was really clear about that."
The coat loosened instantly. Hotdog crashed to the ground, gasping and retching, clawing at his throat. His stolen Admiral Force flickered weakly, the souls in his coat subdued, almost... grateful.
Lone's coat retracted, folding back around his shoulders like nothing had happened. Like it hadn't just casually dominated someone who'd trained for years.
"So here's the deal," Lone said brightly, addressing Hotdog's crew. They flinched. "You guys seem pretty loyal to your captain, which is cool! But maybe find a captain who doesn't need to hurt people to feel strong? That seems exhausting for everyone involved."
Ketchup scrambled to Hotdog's side, helping him up. The leader's eyes were still wide, still processing what had just happened. All his confidence, all his menace... gone. Stripped away by a fifteen-year-old kid with a smile like sunshine and a coat that moved like death.
"You..." Hotdog's voice was a rasp. "What are you?"
"Lone Einstein!" Lone said, like he hadn't already introduced himself. "I'm gonna be the God Admiral! Want to join my fleet?"
The silence was deafening.
"You just... you nearly killed me, and you're asking---"
"Well yeah! You're strong! Kind of mean, but that's fixable. Character development and stuff!" Lone looked genuinely hopeful. "Plus Donut says being scared is okay, so it's fine if you're scared too. We can all be scared together!"
"I never said---" Donut started.
Hotdog staggered backward, his crew supporting him. His stolen coat hung limp on his shoulders, the souls within quiet for the first time in years. "You're insane. You're completely insane."
"That's what Donut said too! You guys are gonna get along great!"
"We're leaving." Hotdog turned toward the destroyed entrance, his pride shattered but his survival instincts finally working. "And we're never coming back to this layer. You hear me? Never. This whole layer can belong to you crazy people."
"Okay! Safe travels!" Lone waved enthusiastically. "Oh, and if you change your mind about the fleet thing, I'll be heading toward the next Rift! Just look for the falling guy!"
The Sky Pirates fled.
It wasn't a tactical retreat or a strategic withdrawal. It was pure, primal flight. Hotdog stumbled through the broken doorway, his crew practically carrying him, and they disappeared into the market district with the speed of men who'd just remembered they weren't immortal.
The restaurant was silent.
Then someone started clapping.