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Life on Fishman Island continued with deceptive normalcy. Prince Fukaboshi led cleanup operations after the titan attack on Fishman Street. Queen Otohime and Madam Shyarly discussed apocalyptic prophecies in private chambers. Citizens went about their daily routines—shopping, working, socializing—blissfully unaware that extinction approached at terminal velocity.
The kingdom's patrol guards were first to sense wrongness in the deep.
Since the Straw Hat Pirates had eliminated Hody Jones and his New Fishman Pirates, the Royal Guard had been redistributed throughout the kingdom. Queen Otohime's reorganization placed soldiers at strategic points across Fishman Island's territory, conducting routine security patrols that had been neglected during years of internal strife.
Today, those patrols noticed something unprecedented.
"Look at the fish," one guard said to his partner, pointing at the unusual behavior of a massive school of tuna. "They're all swimming the same direction. Away from something."
The second guard—a lobster fishman with distinctive red carapace—watched the migration with growing unease. "Fish flee from predators. Sea Kings, maybe? But they usually avoid Fishman Island's territory. Those thousand-meter giants know better than to provoke us."
Then they saw the sea beasts.
Hundreds of them. Creatures that normally predated on smaller fish or scavenged the ocean floor—all fleeing in panic. Sea cats over a hundred meters long. Massive sea seals. Manatees the size of buildings. Sea snakes that could swallow ships whole. Every species of deep-ocean mammal, gathered in a desperate migration away from something terrible enough to override their territorial instincts.
"That's not normal," the first guard said, his voice cracking slightly. "What could scare that many predators?"
"I don't know." The lobster fishman grabbed his partner's arm. "But we need to warn the palace. Now. No flares work underwater—we swim back and sound the alarm manually."
They turned to leave, but the sea beasts were already upon them.
The stampede hit Fishman Island like a living tsunami. Buildings crumbled under the impact of panicked creatures that didn't slow down, didn't navigate carefully, just ran with single-minded desperation. Citizens screamed as sea cats barreled through the commercial district, their massive bodies demolishing shops and homes. A sea seal crushed a guardhouse simply by swimming through it at full speed, too terrified to notice or care about the structural damage.
The guards tried to intervene—using Fishman Karate to redirect the beasts, creating water barriers to protect civilians—but there were too many and they moved too fast. All anyone could do was evacuate to higher ground and let the stampede pass.
"What's happening?!" A green-haired mermaid stood at the highest observation point of the residential district, her superior vantage allowing her to see beyond Fishman Island's protective bubble. What she witnessed froze the words in her throat.
When she finally found her voice, it came out as a terrified shriek: "GIANT! COLOSSAL GIANT ARE COMING! SO MANY OF THEM!"
The first wave arrived minutes later.
Each Colossal Titan stood over sixty meters tall, their bodies wreathed in superheated steam that turned the surrounding water into a boiling cauldron. The temperature within a hundred meters of their forms climbed to lethal levels instantly—flash-boiling any organic matter unlucky enough to be caught in their approach.
The guards patrolling Fishman Island's perimeter died first. They didn't have time to scream—the heat simply erased them. Flesh carbonized. Bones turned to ash. Within seconds, proud warriors were reduced to carbon smears that dispersed in the currents, crushed to powder beneath the titans' footfalls.
Then the giants entered Fishman Island proper.
The Colossal Titans didn't discriminate. Fishmen and merfolk, young and old, beautiful and ugly—all were equal beneath those massive feet. Each step left crater-sized footprints filled with pulverized remains. Buildings collapsed like sandcastles. Streets vanished. Entire districts were simply erased as the march continued with mechanical inevitability.
The Royal Guard fought back with everything they had. Fishman Karate masters launched high-pressure water bullets that could pierce steel. Mermen wielding tridents stabbed at exposed ankles. Soldiers coordinated attacks, trying to fell even a single titan through concentrated assault.
It was like attacking a hurricane with pocket knives.
The titans felt no pain. Wounds regenerated within seconds, steam hissing from closing gashes. Their bodies were coated in Armament Haki—hardened to the point where even direct hits accomplished nothing beyond superficial damage. And their heat... their heat made close-quarters combat suicide. Anyone who approached within striking distance was cooked alive before their weapon could land.
This is what the prophecy meant, guards thought desperately as they died. This is the god covered in tentacles—except it's not one god but hundreds of demons. We're all going to die.
Queen Otohime emerged from her consultation chamber at a run, her political instincts screaming that something catastrophic was happening. The ground beneath her feet—or rather, the palace floor—trembled with rhythmic impacts. Footsteps, she realized with dawning horror. Something enormous is walking toward us.
She nearly collided with King Neptune in the corridor. Her husband was fully armed for the first time in years—his massive trident gripped in one hand, ceremonial armor hastily strapped over his usual casual attire. Behind him, Princes Fukaboshi, Ryuboshi, and Mamboshi each carried their signature weapons, their faces set with grim determination.
"What's happening?" Otohime demanded. "Is a pirate armada attacking? Did Big Mom break her protection agreement?"
"Worse," Neptune said, his normally jovial expression replaced by something Otohime hadn't seen in years: resolve. "Giants. Hundreds of them. They're marching through Fishman Island, killing everything in their path. Madam Shyarly—" He choked slightly on the words. "Her prophecy is coming true right now. Today."
A scream echoed down the hallway—high-pitched, terrified, heartbreakingly young.
Princess Shirahoshi burst into view, tears streaming down her enormous face as she clutched her pet shark Megalo. Blood stained her dress—not her own, but someone else's. Her eyes were wild with trauma, locked on something only she could see.
"MAMA!" Shirahoshi wailed, throwing herself at Queen Otohime with enough force to nearly bowl the smaller mermaid over. "It's horrible out there! Everyone's dying! And Wadatsumi—oh gods, Wadatsumi—"
"Breathe, darling." Otohime stroked her daughter's hair with maternal gentleness despite her own rising panic. "Tell me what happened. Slowly."
"The giants came so fast," Shirahoshi gasped between sobs. "Wadatsumi was protecting me—you know how he always walks beside me to keep pirates away? He's so big and strong and kind and—"
She broke down completely, unable to continue. But Otohime could piece together the rest.
Wadatsumi. The giant pufferfish fishman who'd once served the villainous Vander Decken IX before being reformed through Luffy's intervention. Despite his intimidating eighty-meter height and fierce appearance, he'd proven to be gentle-hearted and loyal to a fault. After his redemption, he'd joined the Royal Guard and appointed himself Princess Shirahoshi's unofficial bodyguard—using his massive frame to deter would-be kidnappers and traffickers.
He died protecting her, Otohime realized. Gave his life so she could escape.
"He threw me," Shirahoshi whispered, her voice breaking. "Used all his strength to throw me away from the titans. I flew so far—must have been a thousand meters. And when I looked back..." Her breathing hitched. "I saw them step on him. All those giants, just walking over him like he was nothing. I heard him scream, Mama. I heard him dying and I couldn't do anything."
The image was too vivid, too horrible. Wadatsumi—simple, kind, loyal Wadatsumi—crushed beneath hundreds of tons of titan flesh, his body flattened into paste as the march continued without pause. He'd bought his princess seconds of life with his own death, and she'd been forced to witness every moment.
"I called the Sea Kings," Shirahoshi continued, wiping futilely at tears that kept flowing. "Used my power as Poseidon. They came—dozens of them, each over five thousand meters long. But even they can't stop the titans! The heat burns them! They're trying to pull the giants back but there are too many and—"
The palace shook. Not a tremor—a direct impact. Somewhere nearby, a Colossal Titan had reached Ryugu Palace itself.
"We're out of time," Prince Fukaboshi said grimly. "Mother, Shirahoshi—you need to leave now. Megalo can carry you both to safety if you swim for the Sea Forest. It's the farthest point from here. Maybe—"
"I'm not abandoning our people," Otohime interrupted.
"You're not abandoning anyone!" Neptune's roar carried desperation. "You're ensuring the kingdom can rebuild! As long as you and Shirahoshi survive, there's hope for the future! We'll buy you time—"
"By dying?!" Otohime's voice cracked. "You want me to watch you commit suicide while I flee?!"
"We want you to live!" Fukaboshi stepped forward, his usual gentle demeanor replaced by fierce command. "The giants have already trampled most of Fishman Island. The citizens who could evacuate have done so. The rest..." He swallowed hard. "The rest are already dead, Mother. We can't save them. But we can save you. We can save Shirahoshi. We can preserve something to rebuild from once this nightmare ends."
The palace shook again, harder this time. Through the windows, they could see a Colossal Titan's leg—just its leg, impossibly massive—as it strode past the royal grounds.
"GO!" Neptune bellowed, his voice carrying absolute authority for the first time in years. "That's a royal command! Megalo—protect them with your life!"
The shark, understanding the gravity better than his simple mind usually allowed, opened his mouth. Otohime and Shirahoshi swam inside without further argument, the living transport offering the fastest escape route available.
As Megalo turned to flee, Shirahoshi looked back one final time. Her father and brothers stood in formation—weapons raised, backs straight, fear hidden behind warrior stoicism. They looked like heroes from ancient legends, making their last stand against impossible odds.
I'll never see them again, Shirahoshi realized. None of them are coming back from this.
Then Megalo swam, and the palace disappeared behind coral formations and debris.
King Neptune watched his wife and daughter vanish into the depths, then turned to face the approaching apocalypse. His sons stood beside him—Fukaboshi in the center, Ryuboshi to the left, Mamboshi to the right. Four warriors against hundreds of titans.
The odds were laughable.
The Colossal Titans filled the horizon, an endless army of nightmares given flesh. Their footsteps created earthquakes. Their steam heated the ocean to scalding temperatures. Their blank, expressionless faces showed neither malice nor mercy—just the mechanical inevitability of natural disaster.