"Alright, the younger me… wait for my call."
The aged Whitebeard stood up, patted the dust off his body, and in those timeworn eyes, a towering will reignited.
Peak Whitebeard grinned wide and tossed over the last gourd of wine.
"Gurararara! Old man, you better hang in there. Don't go dying on me before I even show up!"
"Just wait till I get there—I'll turn Marineford upside down for you!"
The aged Whitebeard caught the wine gourd firmly, tilted his head back, and took a large swig, laughing heartily.
"Gurararara! Right back at you!"
Two kings from different eras drank together over the ruins—no more words needed.
Lucian Thorn didn't delay any further. With a thought, the grand golden Gate of Time and Space once again slowly emerged behind the three of them, radiating a gentle and mysterious glow.
"Pops, Marco, it's time to go."
"Take care… my younger self."
The aged Whitebeard cast one last look at his vibrant, overbearing younger self. His eyes held a trace of nostalgia before he turned resolutely and stepped through the Gate of Time and Space first.
Marco followed closely. As he crossed the threshold, he couldn't help but look back at the Peak Whitebeard standing tall with the wine gourd on his shoulder, silently watching them leave. His heart was a storm of emotions.
Lucian gave Peak Whitebeard a slight nod—a final farewell—before stepping into the golden veil of light.
The light shimmered, and after the three figures vanished, the Gate of Time and Space swiftly contracted, turning into a single point of light before disappearing completely from this era.
Peak Whitebeard remained where he stood, feeling that peculiar spiritual connection. He glanced at his now-empty arm and curled his lips into a wild grin.
"The future me, huh…"
"Gurararara! How interesting! This is just too interesting!"
"Marines… just you wait! No one lays a hand on my sons!"
…
Light shifted, stars spun.
When the solid ground returned beneath their feet, Lucian, the aged Whitebeard, and Marco were back on the battle-scarred island, devastated by combat.
Everything was exactly the same as when they had left.
As if that entire time-defying adventure had just been an extraordinary dream.
"We're back…"
Marco took a deep breath. The familiar air helped ease the weight in his heart.
"Gurarara… what an unbelievable experience."
Whitebeard rolled his shoulders, still carrying the lingering thrill from his exhilarating clash with his younger self.
Turning to Lucian, his gaze was filled with praise and curiosity.
"Lucian, that power of yours… even I can't fully grasp it."
Lucian smiled lightly and was just about to say something modest, when a subconscious movement froze him completely.
He raised his wrist and looked at his ordinary electronic watch—one he'd brought from his hometown.
The time displayed on it was clear.
Only one minute had passed since they left.
"What the…"
Lucian's voice turned dry and shaky from the shock.
"Pops… Captain Marco…"
"We… we were only gone for one minute!"
"What?!"
Marco whipped around, disbelief written all over his face.
In a flash, he darted to Lucian's side and stared hard at the watch. When he saw the ticking numbers, the ever-composed First Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates—The Phoenix—short-circuited.
"One minute? That's impossible!"
Marco's voice cracked.
"Lucian, is your watch broken or something? We were in the past for at least a whole day! Just the fight between Pops and his other self took forever!"
Lucian put on a perfectly "rattled" look. He shook his wrist hard, tapped the watch face, but the time remained steady—no signs of malfunction.
The aged Whitebeard slowly stepped over, his towering frame casting a shadow over the two.
He didn't look at the watch. Instead, he stared at Lucian deeply. In those battle-scarred eyes gleamed a light of bewildered awe.
"Gurarara…"
His low laugh shattered the eerie silence, but this time, it lacked its usual bravado. Instead, it was filled with gravity and shock.
"Looks like you, brat… are hiding far more secrets than I imagined."
Time flowed differently.
That was the only explanation.
They had spent an entire day in the past—yet in the real world, only a minute had passed!
Such a heaven-defying, reality-warping ability!
Lucian was overjoyed inside, but his face still carried the look of someone shaken to the core.
Whitebeard didn't press further. He knew everyone had their secrets.
He patted Lucian's shoulder—a massive hand full of reassurance and calm.
"Alright, no matter what, we got what we came for."
"Let's go, my sons. Back to the ship! We need to prepare well for the war ahead!"
"Yes, Pops!"
Marco forcibly pushed down the tidal wave of emotions in his chest and nodded.
But as the two turned to leave, they realized Lucian remained rooted in place, unmoving.
"Lucian?" Marco looked back, puzzled.
Lucian stood with his head lowered, body trembling slightly, seemingly still trapped in the shock of what had just happened.
But if someone could see his face right now—they'd be stunned.
There was no fear at all.
Instead, it was unfiltered excitement.
In his eyes, a blazing madness surged.
A Peak Whitebeard!
That was indeed a trump card capable of turning the tide of war.
But… was it truly enough?
The enemy was Marine HQ—three Admirals, Sengoku, Garp, countless Vice Admirals and 100,000 elite soldiers. Even the Seven Warlords of the Sea might join in.
Not to mention… the World Government itself stood behind the Marines.
The entire might of the world, all aimed at extinguishing the Pirate King's bloodline!
One trump card alone couldn't guarantee victory.
No! Not enough!
Not nearly enough!
Since the Gate of Time and Space had already been opened, why not think bigger—go crazier?
Why not give the Marines… and even the World Government… a real shock?
The idea sparked in his mind like wildfire—uncontrollable and all-consuming.
Lucian slowly raised his head.
He looked out at the Moby Dick quietly anchored on the sea like a slumbering beast… at Whitebeard and Marco walking ahead… and a chilling, crazed grin curled his lips again—the kind that always made Marco nervous.
"Wait up, Pops, Marco."
His voice wasn't loud, but it clearly reached their ears and made them halt in their tracks.
Whitebeard slowly turned around, locking eyes with Lucian once more.
He could feel it—something in this young man had changed.
"I think…"
Lucian met the ambition of the world's strongest man head-on.
"One Peak Whitebeard… might not be enough of a spectacle."
That line made Marco's eyes nearly pop out of his head.
What the hell did he mean… not enough of a spectacle?!
This was Peak Whitebeard they were talking about! A man who could tear Marineford apart single-handedly!
And that still wasn't enough?!
Even the aged Whitebeard was visibly stunned.
Lucian ignored their shock. Speaking almost like a proclamation, he enunciated each word with deliberate clarity:
"I'm planning..."
"…to find two more lunatics to help us."