-Real World, Marine Headquarters-
"Facing a complete, fully-staffed Four Emperors crew should only put moderate pressure on Marine Headquarters," Vice Admiral Doberman stated, trying to find reassurance in strategic analysis. "After all, Whitebeard Edward Newgate is old—the same generation as Garp-san and Sengoku-san. The three Admirals of our current era should be more than capable of defeating him."
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the war room, officers clinging to this logic like a lifeline.
"Furthermore," Doberman continued, "the newspapers confirmed that several of the Seven Warlords participated in the battle. They could engage Whitebeard's division commanders while our Admirals focused on the main threat. Fleet Admiral Sengoku's strategy of using Fire Fist Ace as bait should succeed against even one of the Four Emperors with our current forces."
The analysis was sound. Logical. Based on concrete assessments of comparative military strength.
But logic didn't account for wildcards.
"If nothing unexpected happened," Vice Admiral Tsuru's voice cut through the optimism like a blade, "an accident still occurred. Shiki the Golden Lion—that old monster everyone assumed was dead—decided to make one final appearance."
The room's mood shifted instantly.
"He disappeared for decades," Tsuru continued, her expression grim. "Even Gol D. Roger, who defeated him, has been dead for over twenty years. Yet somehow, Shiki survived all that time, hiding his strength. If he hadn't participated in the Battle of Marineford..." She paused, letting the implication hang. "We never would have suffered such catastrophic casualties."
As for why Blackbeard Marshall D. Teach later possessed three Devil Fruits—becoming the so-called "Trinity"—the most plausible explanation was opportunism. He'd made his move when both Marines and pirates were exhausted, reaping the spoils from both sides while everyone was too broken to stop him.
It was the only theory that made sense, though the mechanics of how Teach extracted Devil Fruits from corpses remained terrifyingly unclear.
Vice Admiral Tsuru leaned back in her chair, supporting her head with one hand, confusion evident in her normally sharp features.
"Something bothers me about this scenario," she said slowly. "Given Edward Newgate's pride, I can't imagine him asking Shiki the Golden Lion for help. They served on the same ship under Rocks decades ago, but that was ancient history. Whitebeard doesn't strike me as someone who'd beg for assistance, especially from a former rival."
The observation sent ripples of renewed contemplation through the assembled officers. Vice Admiral Tsuru was right—Edward Newgate's character didn't match the profile of someone who'd request aid, even facing certain death.
With Whitebeard's proud personality, he would charge into an obvious trap rather than admit weakness. Fleet Admiral Sengoku had likely calculated this character flaw precisely, deliberately choosing public execution as the method to maximize impact while ensuring the Pirate King's son couldn't be rescued quietly.
"Sengoku knows Whitebeard will come, trap or not," someone muttered. "That's the whole point of the bait."
But if Whitebeard didn't ask for help, why would Shiki appear?
Garp, who'd been picking his nose with shameless disregard for propriety, suddenly spoke up. "Sengoku and I fought Shiki the Golden Lion multiple times back in the day. That old bastard is vindictive as hell."
He examined the results of his nasal excavation with mild interest before flicking it aside. "We defeated him in battle and sent him to Impel Down. He escaped by cutting off his own legs with his swords—can you imagine how much that would hurt? Someone that crazy doesn't forget grudges. I'd bet money he shows up to Marineford uninvited, just for revenge against us."
Shiki the Golden Lion was arrogant, powerful, and incapable of letting insults stand. He'd been defeated by Roger in the Battle of Edd War due to freak weather—a gap in navigational preparation rather than pure combat ability. When he later heard Roger had been captured and executed, Shiki had stormed Marine Headquarters alone, killing countless officers in his rage. Only the combined might of Sengoku and Garp had stopped him, and even then the battle had destroyed half of Marineford.
The Fuwa Fuwa no Mi (Float-Float Fruit) was a nightmare to combat—especially for a user of Shiki's caliber.
The room fell silent as everyone absorbed this logic. An uninvited Shiki the Golden Lion, arriving at Marineford purely to settle old scores, explained everything. The Marines wouldn't just face the Whitebeard Pirates—they'd face two legendary crews simultaneously, neither coordinating but both equally deadly.
Garp's expression suddenly darkened, his playful demeanor evaporating. His eyes fixed on Admiral Sakazuki with barely contained hostility.
This brat didn't just kill his adopted grandson Fire Fist Ace in the future—he'd also tried to killed his biological grandson Luffy during the Loguetown operation. The younger generation's ruthless efficiency made the former Marine hero deeply uncomfortable.
It was natural for Marines to kill pirates. That was the job. Most Marines—like Borsalino—could show restraint when appropriate, could give troublesome kids like Luffy a chance to flee rather than executing them on the spot.
But not Sakazuki. Admiral Akainu didn't believe in mercy or second chances. He killed pirates efficiently and without hesitation, following Absolute Justice to its coldest extreme.
If he really kills three of my grandsons and one granddaughter, Garp thought, his jaw clenching, what choice will I make? Can I remain loyal to the Marines after that? Should I?
Admiral Akainu felt the Hero's hostile gaze and allowed himself a small, sardonic smile. He'd been unhappy with this old man resting on his laurels for years now. The regret burning in his chest wasn't about killing Luffy—it was that he hadn't tried harder to finish the job in Loguetown. If he'd eliminated the boy then, the Marines would have one less future threat to worry about.
Moreover, Sakazuki had growing doubts about Vice Admiral Garp's loyalty. The old man had too many conflicting interests, too many potential escape routes. If loyalty is not absolute, then it is absolutely disloyal. A Marine hero who'd prepared multiple contingency plans wasn't a good Marine at all.
After the Battle of Marineford, both Admiral Akainu and the Marine Hero disappeared. Perhaps there was a connection? Perhaps they'd killed each other in the chaos? The Marines watching the Sky Screen had many questions and few answers.
Tension crackled between Garp and Sakazuki like gathering lightning—two men on opposite sides of a fundamental philosophical divide, their conflict only temporarily suppressed by duty and rank.
"We need to develop countermeasures," Fleet Admiral Sengoku declared, breaking the uncomfortable standoff. "Specifically, ways to restrain or neutralize Shiki's Fuwa Fuwa no Mi. We can't allow the scenario where he lifts all of Marineford into the sky to actually occur."
"The destructive power of dropping an entire island on us is..." Vice Admiral Onigumo trailed off, unable to find adequate words.
"Apocalyptic," Tsuru finished. "We need Anti-Air capabilities. Long-range attacks. Ways to ground him or destroy his flying armada before it reaches optimal altitude. Borsalino's Pika Pika no Mi gives us light-speed attacks at any range—he'll be crucial."
All eyes turned to Admiral Kizaru, who looked supremely uninterested in this tactical planning.
"Ohhh, that sounds like a lot of work," Borsalino drawled. "You want me to shoot down flying islands? That's well above my pay grade..."
"Your pay grade is Admiral!" someone shouted.
"Exactly. And I'm paid far too little for island-destroying responsibilities."
Sengoku's eye twitched. "We'll discuss your commitment issues later, Borsalino. For now, just—"
"Do my best? Sure, sure." The lazy Admiral waved dismissively. "I'll think about it. Maybe. If I remember."
The Fleet Admiral looked like he might have an aneurysm.
-Present Day, Somewhere in the First Half of the Grand Line-
The Flying Pirates' flagship floated serenely above the clouds, invisible to anyone sailing the seas below. As long as Shiki the Golden Lion's fleet remained airborne, detection was nearly impossible.
"I haven't felt this good in YEARS!" Shiki's wild laughter echoed through the command deck. "My headache is gone, my mind is clear! God hasn't abandoned me after all! Golden Lion Shiki will have his farewell performance on the grandest stage!"
The legendary pirate lounged in his captain's chair, radiating satisfaction. Having Trafalgar Law aboard as ship's doctor had been an incredible stroke of fortune—exactly the kind of talent his reformed crew needed.
After Law used his Ope Ope no Mi (Op-Op Fruit) to painlessly remove the ship's wheel that had been embedded in Shiki's skull for decades, the Golden Lion's ambition had returned in full force. He wanted to expand his pirate crew's strength, recruit powerful newcomers from the new generation.
Originally, Shiki had looked down on modern pirates—found them weak, lacking the will and strength of his era. But Law's capabilities had changed his assessment. If one talented newcomer could surgically extract a foreign object that had plagued him for twenty years, others might prove equally valuable.
"These new-generation pirates with bounties exceeding one hundred million," Shiki mused aloud, golden mane of hair flowing around his face. "They're worth recruiting after all. Once the Flying Pirates expand to sufficient strength, we can challenge the Four Emperors for their positions. Those familiar faces have held power too long—it's time they moved aside for the true legends."
His eyes glinted with dangerous ambition. "And if the Battle of Marineford happens as the Sky Screen predicts... well, I won't mind helping dear old Edward Newgate. I've got scores to settle with Garp and Sengoku anyway. Kill enough Marines to seriously wound them, ensure they're too broken to interfere with the coming power struggle at sea. Then the decision of who becomes the next Pirate King will be made by those with the strength to claim it."
By me, in other words.
Trafalgar Law stood nearby, observing his new captain with calculating golden eyes. The madness and ambition radiating from Shiki the Golden Lion were intoxicating—this was a monster worth following. A force of nature who could accomplish what Law couldn't achieve alone.
Following him means I won't repeat past mistakes. And killing Doflamingo will be easier for Shiki than slaughtering a chicken.
Shiki the Golden Lion had promised Law immediate action against Doflamingo once the Warlord's location was confirmed. Revenge for Law's murdered crew would be delivered without hesitation. This promise was part of winning the ship's doctor's loyalty—ensuring Trafalgar Law would serve faithfully and fight to the death when called upon. As for the Ope Ope no Mi's legendary immortality surgery? Shiki didn't need that. Not yet.
"A drop of kindness should be repaid with a spring," Law quoted, his expression serious. He'd been treated well by the Golden Lion—better than he'd expected—and wanted to prove his value to the crew.
"Captain," Law began, drawing Shiki's attention. "My Ope Ope no Mi can do more than remove foreign objects. I can splice new legs for you—transplant limbs from any race. The new legs would be identical to your original ones in function. You'd be able to use Haki through them, wield them as naturally as you did before losing yours. Your strength would increase significantly."
Shiki's eyes widened with genuine excitement.
Oto and Kogarashi could be freed from their duty as prosthetics! His twin swords—legendary blades he'd been forced to attach to his stumps after sawing through his own legs to escape Impel Down—could return to being pure weapons rather than compromised walking implements.
Fighting with swords attached to one's legs was functional but far from optimal. The lower limbs lacked the flexibility and precision of arms. If he could walk normally again, use his swords as intended, his combat ability would skyrocket.
"As for which race's legs to transplant," Law continued, "that's your choice. Though from a purely practical standpoint, giant limbs would provide increased reach and power, while long-leg tribe anatomy offers natural speed advantages—"
"Doesn't matter what they look like," Shiki interrupted, grinning ferally. "Men only care if the replacement parts are strong enough. Though..." His grin widened into something predatory. "If I could take the legs from Garp, my old rival, I wouldn't hesitate for a second. Imagine—the Hero of the Marines reduced to a cripple while I walk on his stolen limbs! The poetic justice!"
He threw his head back and laughed. "I've been planning to harvest parts from that bastard for years. Now I'll actually have the means to do it!"
Law's expression remained carefully neutral, though internally he noted: My captain is absolutely insane. Perfect.
"Shall I begin preparations for the surgery?" Law asked. "We'd need to acquire suitable legs first, of course. I can perform the operation once you've selected appropriate donors."
"Yes, yes! Make the arrangements!" Shiki was practically vibrating with excitement. "Find me the strongest legs available! Long-leg tribe warriors, giants, whatever works best! And start gathering intelligence on Marine Hero Garp's whereabouts while you're at it—I want to know where that old bastard will be when I'm ready to take his limbs!"
The Golden Lion's madness and ambition fed into each other, creating a vicious cycle of escalating plans. With his headache gone and his mind clear, Shiki was rapidly becoming the monster he'd been in his prime—perhaps even more dangerous, since he now had nothing left to lose and everything to prove.
Trafalgar Law bowed slightly and departed to make preparations, leaving his captain to fantasize about walking on the stolen legs of his greatest enemy.
Behind them, the Flying Pirates' armada floated invisibly through the sky, gathering strength for the chaos that was surely coming.
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