-Broadcast-
Flevance had once been known as the White Town, famous throughout the world for its abundant Amber Lead mines. The pristine white mineral had brought prosperity and wealth beyond measure, until the curse of Amber Lead Syndrome emerged. Its devastating effects had supposedly wiped out the entire nation overnight—at least, that was the version of events the outside world had accepted for years.
Now, a descendant of Flevance's royal family was taking the stage at Dressrosa's Music Festival. Willy Tybur cut an impressive figure in his formal black suit, his aristocratic features drawing admiring whispers from the female audience members. Sometimes the genetic lottery proved more valuable than gold—handsome faces commanded attention in ways that ugly ones never could.
"I thank King Doflamingo for this gracious invitation," Willy began, his cultured voice carrying easily across the vast crowd. "The opportunity to speak on such a momentous occasion is truly an honor. I am Willy Tybur, last descendant of Flevance's royal bloodline, and I offer my deepest respects to His Majesty."
The audience responded with appropriate applause for their host. Without Doflamingo's grand vision, these princes and nobles would have remained trapped in their tedious territories, endlessly exploiting their subjects with nothing more stimulating to occupy their time.
Two stories below ground, Eren and Law could hear every word with crystal clarity. They set aside their discussion of Lami's fate, drawn inexorably to this public reckoning with their shared past.
"Just listen," Eren said quietly, his tone unnaturally calm.
Trafalgar Law had deliberately avoided news regarding Flevance's royal family for years. He'd assumed those cowardly parasites who had abandoned their people would never dare show their faces again.
"This is an old tragedy," Willy continued, pain creeping into his refined features. "Nearly a century ago, Amber Lead deposits were discovered beneath Flevance. While these mines brought unprecedented wealth to our kingdom, fate's gifts always carry hidden prices."
The white mineral had been incorporated into everything—tableware, construction materials, jewelry, even food additives. Those pure, innocent-looking crystals had infiltrated every aspect of daily life.
Willy's handsome face contorted with what appeared to be genuine anguish. "I must dispel a persistent myth about Amber Lead Syndrome. Victims of this condition are not contagious. This is severe heavy metal poisoning, pure and simple. Without direct exposure to Amber Lead deposits, the disease cannot manifest. Tragically, my ancestors understood this truth but chose to hide it from our people."
The pursuit of wealth had blinded Flevance's rulers to everything else. What made Amber Lead Syndrome truly terrifying was its hereditary nature—each generation developed symptoms faster than the last, an accelerating spiral of death that culminated in the White Town's complete destruction.
When the syndrome reached its final, devastating crescendo, the World Government had quietly spirited away the royal family. White patches of Amber Lead poisoning bloomed across citizens' skin like deadly flowers. The severely afflicted could only writhe in their beds, waiting for death's mercy. Those with milder symptoms attempted desperate escapes, but where could they flee when every neighboring nation had sealed their borders?
"I, Willy Tybur, offer my deepest apologies to every victim of this national tragedy," he declared, his voice breaking with emotion. "The royal family of Flevance bears ultimate responsibility. We will disappear from this world entirely. Let this crown fall from my head as tribute to our murdered citizens."
The last heir of Flevance's throne collapsed to his knees before the watching world. Camera shutters clicked frantically as journalists captured this moment of seeming contrition—tomorrow's front-page headlines were being written in real time.
The royal apology moved many in attendance to tears. Empathetic souls wept openly while applauding Willy's performance, genuinely believing they were witnessing authentic repentance.
This public confession served multiple purposes. The king had acknowledged historical wrongs—what more could reasonable people demand? Surely they could appreciate the impossible position the crown had faced? The difficulties of governance? The complex pressures of leadership?
In the royal family's calculations, no other survivors remained to contradict their narrative. Even if ghosts somehow crawled from their graves seeking justice, what could the dead accomplish against the living?
The pirate world's feudal structure was absolute. Kings ruled over all citizens, while Celestial Dragons ruled over kings. At the apex sat the Gorosei, five World Nobles who shaped global order according to their whims. This hierarchy formed the bedrock of civilization among member nations.
A king fulfilling his obligations by shedding crocodile tears represented the pinnacle of royal responsibility. The dead were merely dust now, and history remained malleable clay in skilled hands. If all proceeded according to plan, tonight's performance would completely absolve centuries of royal crimes.
But plans rarely survived contact with reality. How could Willy possibly know that Flevance's survivors were listening from mere meters away?
"What did I expect?" Law whispered bitterly. "Royal blood was never the same as ours."
Even if Willy's remorse was genuine, forgiveness remained impossible. When Amber Lead Syndrome manifested, patients retained months or even years of life expectancy. There had been time—precious, irreplaceable time.
But Flevance's king had been a greedy coward, and the neighboring nations' response had transcended mere quarantine. Their "solution" involved armed forces slaughtering civilians indiscriminately, sparing neither women nor children. Law's parents had died beneath those merciless blades, not from any disease.
Willy conveniently omitted this crucial detail, attributing all deaths to Amber Lead Syndrome itself. Apparently, the dead couldn't object to such convenient revisionism.
The Marines and World Government had been complicit—either directly participating or willfully ignorant. In his youth, Law had indeed hated everything, dreaming of universal revenge until Corazon's sacrifice had shown him a different path.
Across the small room, Eren produced a key to Law's seastone restraints. "Take Lami and leave," he said simply. "Get as far from Dressrosa as possible. You might forgive our parents' murderers, but I never will."
Above them, Willy's speech continued: "I hereby pledge our family's entire fortune to humanitarian causes. Please extend your aid so we might embrace a peaceful future. Through cooperation, we can overcome any obstacle. As the World Government's special envoy, I, Willy Tybur, declare—"
Law freed his hands from the seastone shackles while Eren rose to his feet. Those eyes held neither joy nor sorrow, only terrible certainty. "We were born into this hell. I'll keep moving forward until every enemy is eliminated and true freedom is achieved."
"What?" Law's confusion deepened as golden lightning began crackling around Eren's form. Every instinct screamed that something catastrophic was about to unfold.
Willy's final words echoed through the festival grounds: "In memory of Flevance's fallen citizens, I, Willy Tybur, declare war on this world's injustice—"
The building's rear wall exploded with thunderous force. Debris rained down as an enormous humanoid titan emerged from the destruction, its massive form casting shadows across the terrified crowd. Willy could only stare upward in stunned horror as his carefully orchestrated performance dissolved into chaos.
The titan's fist obliterated the stage in a single devastating blow. Massive fingers closed around Willy's small form, lifting him toward waiting jaws that opened like the gates of hell itself. The heir of Flevance disappeared between crushing teeth, his body consumed like a mere snack.