Passing through the Gate of Light wasn't a simple step into a new world.
It was an intense distortion and tear.
Lucian Thorn felt like his body was crushed into a ball and then stretched infinitely. The concepts of time and space melted into meaningless sludge.
Around him were countless bizarre, dazzling colors—like God's paint palette had been knocked over, spinning and colliding in chaos.
The sensation lasted less than a second.
And then—
BOOM!
It was as if an invisible giant hand yanked them out of that chaos of colors. Solid ground greeted their feet.
The blinding sunlight made the three of them squint instinctively after emerging from the darkness.
The crisp sea breeze, laced with the fragrance of earth and wildflowers, blew across them, washing away the heavy gloom of the future.
Marco staggered a little before regaining his balance. Clutching his slightly dizzy head, he looked around in stunned silence.
They stood on a beautiful, lush island.
The sky was a clear blue, clouds drifting lazily overhead.
Not far away, a forest teemed with dense greenery and the pulse of untouched life.
Everything felt vibrant—so alive. A stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere of their own time.
"This... is the past?" Marco muttered, his voice filled with disbelief.
Whitebeard said nothing.
He just stood there with his eyes closed, his towering frame as unmoving as an ancient mountain.
He inhaled the air greedily, and on that weathered face, an incredibly complex expression of nostalgia emerged.
That scent...
That feeling...
There was no mistake.
This was his era!
Lucian Thorn took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled.
He could distinctly feel it—that subtle yet unmistakable scent in the air.
A blend of gunpowder, hard liquor, freedom, ambition, and dreams.
The unmistakable scent of adventure, born of a legendary age!
Just then—
Woooooo!
From the direction of the harbor came a long, echoing ship horn.
Next, the thunderous sounds of cheers and celebratory cannon fire!
Not the thunder of battle—but a farewell salute!
The trio's gaze was pulled instinctively in that direction.
There, on the brilliant blue sea, a magnificent and imposing ship was slowly departing the port.
Its hull was built from the glowing treasure wood Adam, and a majestic lion figurehead adorned its prow.
From the main mast, a pirate flag fluttered proudly in the wind—
A skull wearing a straw hat.
The Oro Jackson!
The ship of the Pirate King—Gol D. Roger!
Marco's breath caught instantly. He stared at the ship, as if trying to brand every detail into his soul.
He knew that ship too well!
And Whitebeard's body visibly tensed the moment his eyes landed on the flag.
His fists clenched unconsciously.
Lucian's eyes locked onto the deck of the Oro Jackson.
There were many figures standing there, but two stood out.
One of them was a man wearing an ordinary straw hat, laughing heartily and waving toward the shore without a care in the world.
That smile radiated a freedom and boldness capable of stirring the entire world.
Gol D. Roger!
And beside Roger stood a tall man with a traditional chonmage hairstyle.
He wore a kimono, with two famed blades at his waist, and also waved and smiled toward the people ashore.
That man—Lucian would recognize him even in ashes.
Kozuki Oden!
On the shore, countless people wept and shouted, reluctantly seeing them off.
Among the crowd, Lucian spotted a young figure with a distinct pineapple hairstyle, standing with arms crossed and a very annoyed look on his face.
Seeing that scene made Lucian's breath hitch sharply.
Everything suddenly clicked in his mind.
Oro Jackson!
Roger!
Oden!
The samurai of Wano and the Mink Tribe bidding them farewell on the shore!
They had actually arrived at this very point in time!
Lucian's heart pounded wildly—not from fear, but from pure exhilaration.
He quickly turned to Whitebeard and Marco, his voice trembling with excitement.
"Pops! Marco!"
"We… we made it to the right time!"
Marco, still shaken, looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Lucian's eyes gleamed with strategy.
"Look!" He pointed to the distant ship and the crowd on the shore.
"Roger… he's leaving with Lord Oden!"
"Don't you understand what this means?"
In Whitebeard's deep eyes, a storm began to swirl.
Of course he understood!
The Roger Pirates and the Whitebeard Pirates once battled for three days and nights, ending in a draw.
After that, Roger was captivated by Oden's ability to read the Poneglyphs and humbly begged Whitebeard to let Oden accompany him for a year.
This very scene was the day Kozuki Oden was "stolen" away to join the Pirate King's final voyage!
Lucian's grin grew brighter.
"This is perfect!"
"Absolutely perfect!"
"There's no better timing than this!"
He clenched his fists, growling with excitement.
"Think about how Pops must feel right now!"
"His most trusted little brother, his most entertaining companion, just got 'stolen' by his greatest rival!"
"He said, 'Take good care of him,' but deep down, you know he wanted to smash the entire sea in frustration!"
"Right now, he may look calm, but inside, he's a volcano ready to erupt!"
Lucian's words were the key—instantly unlocking Whitebeard and Marco's train of thought.
They understood now.
Lucian's plan.
If they sought out a proud, confident Whitebeard in his prime, he might scoff at help from strangers claiming to be from the future.
But—
If they found a peak-condition Whitebeard, who had just been upstaged by his rival and was stewing in frustration…
The outcome would be completely different!
This was a golden opportunity!
Whitebeard remained silent.
He slowly turned away, no longer looking at the Oro Jackson disappearing into the horizon.
His gaze shifted toward the heart of the island.
There—
He could sense it.
Another version of himself—a younger, healthier, peak Whitebeard—drinking away his sorrows with his family.
From the aging Whitebeard's body, a terrifying aura of kingship long dormant began to rise once more.
He grinned wide, wearing the same wild, domineering smile as Roger had moments earlier.
"Gurararara…"
"Come, my sons."
"Let's go meet… the me of the past."